Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
CADE
When people think of Florida, they immediately think: palm trees.
And yeah, there are plenty of those, but in the older areas, like Fort Manor, it’s the oaks that reign supreme.
They’re stoic and massive, dripping Spanish moss and arching over sunlight-dappled roads like an overgrown garden, left to its own devices.
It’s seen some shit, weathered some storms and wars, but still standing.
It’s strangely… comforting.
Which is cool, considering coming back here is fucking terrifying.
Even though Mom is tucked away in her box, I’m not stupid enough to think she’s gone for good.
For all I know, she could start her bullshit as soon as we park in the driveway.
(The house is pretty triggering, not gonna lie, especially upstairs.) But at least now, I have a few tools that neutralize her until I can get to Dr. Bedi and Dr. Kat to work through it.
So, while I’m still under a pretty strict treatment plan, I’m more or less off-leash.
It’s been so long that freedom almost feels like breaking the law. I kinda like it. That little kick of adrenaline. Makes me wanna do something reckless…
Country music drifts from the speakers— some guy singing about how he’s gonna make someone miss him. I’m tempted to read into it. Every song Sebastian has played on the drive back from the airport has been a love song. Then again, most country songs are love songs and he only listens to country.
I glance at him through my sunglasses.
Humming along to the song, Sebastian rests his wrist on top of the steering wheel, occasionally puffing from the cigarette dangling from his lips.
The bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks are sun-kissed like he’s been outside all morning and his stubble has grown into a short, rugged beard.
A tuft of chestnut hair pokes out of his faded backwards hat, curling away from his forehead— one rogue piece fluttering like mad in the wind blowing through the open windows.
He looks like a blue-collar wet dream.
Fucking punch me.
As if sensing my wandering eyes, he flashes me a small smile. I immediately turn away.
I can’t figure him out. And I can usually figure everyone out.
It’s throwing me off. Big time. Because he’s acting like…
he wants me still. And if he does, why didn’t he reach out?
He could have asked Dad to come visit me…
Unless Dad didn’t tell him where I was. But he picked me up at the airport, so Dad had to give him the rundown… right?
Regardless, it’s impossible to ignore the way he’s looking at me. Like he wants to eat me alive. For all I know, I’m hallucinating, but I don’t think so. I can tell when someone is imagining me naked and Sebastian is definitely imagining me naked.
My cock wakes up at that. It’s surprising considering my meds make it difficult sometimes. Then again, my dick was always in overdrive around my stepbrother.
He’s just so infuriatingly, effortlessly gorgeous.
NO. I’m not falling into his trap just for him to abandon me again. Fuck that and fuck him. He gets the silent treatment.
A few minutes later, we’re pulling into the neighborhood.
My fingers shake from the coffee— or nerves. I shouldn’t be nervous. It’s gotta be the caffeine. And nicotine.
The old truck’s tires crunch on the gravel drive. Sebastian shifts into park and cuts the engine, leaving the keys dangling from the ignition.
“You never visited,” I blurt.
So much for giving him the cold shoulder.
He sighs. “I couldn’t, darlin.”
Should’ve kept my big mouth shut. I hug myself and shrink into the seat.
“Don’t call me that.”
He has the audacity to look wounded. “Cade…”
“No. Fuck you.”
Shaking his head, he gets out of the truck.
He’s just gonna leave it like that? Leave me here? No fight?
Suddenly, my door opens. I barely catch myself from tumbling right into his muscular chest.
Then my sunglasses are ripped off.
“Hey!”
Rough, callused fingers grip my jaw, tilting my head up to stare directly into warm brown eyes.
“If I visited, I would’ve taken you home with me and you weren’t ready.” His thumb creeps toward my lip, then stops. His jaw flexes like he’s restraining himself.
My teeth grind. “You didn’t even call.”
Not that I had my phone, but it's the principle.
He levels a stern glare. “You know sure as shit it would’ve ended the same.”
“I don’t know that because you didn’t fucking talk to me,” I hiss, clinging to anger like a life raft. “But it doesn’t matter because I don’t believe you. You’ve given me no reason to.”
Frustration simmers in his gaze. “Cade—”
I make my move, tearing from his grasp and climbing over the center console into the driver's seat. Cranking the truck back to life, I shift into reverse.
“Son of a bitch,” Sebastian growls.
“Got that right,” I sneer and slam on the gas. The truck lurches, spraying gravel as it shoots backward. With another muttered curse, Sebastian stumbles, the passenger side door swinging wide open.
“CADE!” he roars, charging after me way faster than a two-hundred-plus-pound guy should.
I hastily reach over and slam shut the passenger door seconds before flooring it. The tires squeal on the pavement, leaving my furious stepbrother in the rearview.
He might not have called me, but someone else texted me for years without a response. And she deserves some answers.