Chapter 23
Sadie
Cade follows me to the bedroom, the same one that Clayton has violated me in time after time. But there’s only two bedrooms in this house.
And Lila’s is not an option.
I step into the room, the place filling with the scent of Clayton’s cologne. Cade looms behind me, his chest against the back of my head. Gently, he forces us both into the room, reaching around me and kicking on the light.
Then he goes rigid.
I peer up at him and follow his gaze straight to the wedding picture on the dresser. “Cade…” I take a step toward him.
But he’s already crossing the bedroom, his large hands wrapping around the frame. In one swift motion, he shatters it against the wood of the dresser.
A sharp breath escapes my lips, and even more so, as he ransacks the drawers.
“Cade!” My voice strains, my moment of rebellion fading to fear.
What have I gotten myself into?
But then I see it, the lighter in one hand and the photo in the other.
“You’re never going to look at this again,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He strikes the flame, lights the photo, holding it until it’s melting away.
And then tosses it to the bed.
“Fuck him.”
My eyes widen, as he grabs the smoke detector and rips it down from the ceiling. “What are you doing?”
The window rattles from the wind, and the quilt bursts into flames. I reach for one of the pillows, working to put out the flame. Cade grabs my arm, stopping me, and then takes the pillow from my arms.
He quickly extinguishes the fire, and then throws the pillow to the floor. I stand there, my heart in my throat, my thighs clenched as my underwear soak.
Lightning illuminates the room, as Cade turns back to me, his fingertips finding the hem of my T-shirt. He pulls it over my head, his gaze heated as he takes me in.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Cade’s voice comes out thick, as he steps closer, his fingertips gliding across my bare side. I reach for his shirt, and he helps me tug it off. It falls to the floor, and whatever guilt I felt shatters, as I brush my fingertips across his chest.
He lets out a breath, and then catches my left hand. He tilts my hand toward his face, his eyes locking onto the wedding ring.
“You can’t fucking touch me with this thing on.” His fingers pluck the diamond off my finger, and he lets it drop to the floor.
We’re headed for disaster, and there’s no looking back now.
He pulls me into him, and I find the button on his jeans. I unsnap them, and they slide off with ease. Cade’s mouth sucks on the skin of my neck, a chill of arousal running through my body.
His cock presses against my stomach, and he groans as my hand finds it. “Sadie,” he whispers into me, as he unhooks the clasp on my bra. He undoes it, pulling away from me just long enough for my breasts to fall free.
Then he’s at my jeans, pushing them and my underwear off my body.
He scoops me up and drops me back on the remnants of the scorched quilt, the scent of ash rising to my nostrils.
It’s way better than Clayton’s cologne.
His lips find mine again, his cock brushing my wet entrance. I arch toward it, a newfound sense of longing exploding in my stomach.
But then he pulls back.
I reach for his shoulders, my heart dropping suddenly at the distance. “Come back,” the whimper slips from my lips.
He pauses to look at my face, his eyes studying my features. Something is right there on the tip of his tongue.
“What is it?” I whisper, his cock flexing against the inside of my thigh. “What’s wrong?”
His gaze slides right past me to the blackened quilt. “I don’t know if I can do this, Sadie. I’ve never… It’s never been successful.”
Oh. My heart squeezes, and I reach for his face, my fingertips gently directing his attention back to me. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”
“I want to.” Cade leans in, pressing his lips to mine again. “I want you,” he breathes into my mouth.
I suck his tongue into my mouth, and then slip my hand between us, guiding him into me. I gasp into Cade, as he presses into me, stretching my pussy open with him.
“Oh fuck,” he groans, his hips bucking against me. His hand slides around my waist, finding my ass. He squeezes it, thrusting deeper into me.
A loud cry spills from my lips, filling the room. My fingers tangle through his hair, my other hand wrapping around his back. I hold him to me, as our breaths fall in rhythm together, matching our bodies.
“Sadie,” he rasps into me. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want you,” I moan. “I want you, Cade.”
He lets out a guttural, painful sound, and squeezes me tighter, the sensation almost painful. I close my eyes, inhaling him and the scent of us, mixed with ash. I rock my hips, his body meeting my clit and his cock against just the right fucking spot.
And I explode around him, my pussy clenching his cock.
He gasps at the sensation, his hips stuttering as he follows me.
“Fuck, Sadie,” he groans, his climax rattling us both. “You’re all I fucking see. You’re all there is. It’s you.”
We stay locked like that, both of us breathing hard and trembling against each other. He buries his face in my hair, the weight of his body still heavy against the inside of my leg.
Finally, Cade lifts his head, and a grin breaks across his face. “I just fucked a married woman. That might be the worst thing I’ve ever done.”
I smile softly at him, but we both know that’s not true.
Slowly, we untangle, both getting dressed, but the reality crashes down on my shoulders much, much faster.
I can’t hide what happened in this bedroom. Clayton is going to see it.
Cade slides his T-shirt over his head last, and then leans against the wall. “Do you want to hear it?” he says. “What happened?”
I know what he means. I should say no, but I can’t. I know he needs to say it, and I need to hear it.
“Yeah,” I say. “I do.”
He nods, and stares at the far wall, the storm throwing shadows across his face in a way that makes it impossible to read. When he talks, it’s quiet and flat, like he’s dictating from memory, not living it in the now.
“It was a Tuesday,” he starts. “You could hear them before you saw them. Him, mostly. Slapping, cussing, calling her names. She didn’t yell back, just took it. It wasn’t a rape. Not in the legal way.”
I watch the set of his jaw, the way his fingers work at the hem of his T-shirt. Every muscle in his arms is strung tight, but his voice is dead calm.
He goes on. “It’s not even the first time. They did it for fun, sometimes. Or that’s what he’d say. But that day, he was different. Meaner. The sound she made wasn’t a scream, it was more like a—” he hesitates, searching, “—like a dog getting kicked. And that sound, it’s what did it.”
His eyes flick to mine for the first time. I don’t look away.
“I went in there. I don’t remember much.
Next thing, I had him on the floor, and I hit him until he stopped moving.
She didn’t try to stop me, not at all. When it was over, I turned around and she just looked at me like I was the fucking psycho, not him.
She called me one. So, I shut her up, but I don’t really remember how. ”
His head drops for a second, the muscles in his neck flexing. “I called Knight. He was my best friend. We were already doing some… bad… stuff.”
“Like what?” I eye him, as I sit down on the edge of the bed. “What kind of bad stuff?”
“Ben Knight has his own… code of ethics.” He pauses, his lips twitching. “He likes to play God, decide who lives, who dies, and who dies slower than the rest. It fed me. I love murder. I love fire.”
“I see,” I keep my voice even.
“I fucked up when I killed Rodriguez and Wheaton. Ben couldn’t cover it. The neighbor heard. Called it in. Just like that, I was over—and a liability to Knight.”
I swallow hard, watching as Cade’s eyes grow distant. “You broke out of the brig?”
His gaze snaps to me. “Not quite. Ben sent me to a guy named Bradford, but he couldn’t keep control. I was losing it anyway.” He frowns, raking his fingers through his hair. “That’s how I ended up here. A guy was supposed to put a bullet in me but didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because he pitied me. My stepfather abused me, and I set the house on fire. I murdered him. I don’t regret it. I don’t regret a single fucking life I’ve taken.” He looks at me. “But if I did it to you, I would. I’m still a bad person though.”
I think that might be the closest Cade has ever come to saying he loves someone, and for some reason, I have no idea what that means for either of us.
The rain ramps up, or maybe I just notice it more.
“I’m a bad person, too,” I whisper, reaching out and grabbing his hand.
He shakes his head. “No. Guilt is a weapon bad men use to keep good people from running,” Cade mumbles. His tone is tight, as he looks back to me. “Clayton killed your daughter, and made you feel the guilt of it. You’re a good person. It’s him. He needs to go.”
My throat closes, as Cade drops to his knees in front of me, his hands sliding up my thighs.
“We should just leave,” I say, and then gesture to my ankle. “But I can’t.”
Cade’s jaw sets, his expression darkening. “I can’t leave either.”
I furrow my brow. “Why?”
“Because Ben has already found me, and I’m tired of running from my fate.”
I don’t know what he means, but it leaves me with the urge to hold him.
And never let him go.