CHAPTER EIGHT
KADE
A week has crawled by before I finally convince Eden to have dinner with me.
She hasn’t set foot outside the house since she went to the doctor.
But since our rooftop incident, things have been different.
Like she’s suddenly found a little peace.
And although we’re not back to sharing deep conversations or talking about our everyday life, at least she’s here. I’ll take it as progress.
I pour her a glass of wine, since she insisted the waiter open a fresh bottle in front of her. Another new quirk I’ve given up questioning, because if letting it slide keeps the peace, then fine. I’ll let it slide.
We order pasta, and I start telling her about my week at the studio. She listens, properly listens, and for a moment, I get a glimpse of the woman I know. Focused. Engaged. Present.
“How’s your week been?” I ask, hopeful.
She gives me a small, practised smile. “Fine.”
She’s gone back to running the delivery business. She handles the legitimate stuff, packaging orders, customer bookings, while my drivers take care of the other side. The side she knows nothing about.
“That’s it? Just fine?” I tease, trying to coax something real out of her. “Usually you tell me how at least three drivers have pissed you off.”
She shrugs. “I haven’t really paid much attention.”
And there it is again, that wall I can’t get past. She’s here, but she’s not with me. Not like before. It’s like she’s holding on to something, terrified I’ll dig too deep, when all I want is to put it behind us and move forward.
A shadow falls over our table.
I look up, and my stomach drops as Jimmy smiles down at us.
“Kade. Eden. How are you both?”
My jaw tightens. He’s the last person I want anywhere near her, especially tonight. Especially after I told him to stay the hell away from my ol’ lady.
I don’t bother masking my irritation. “Fine,” I bite out. “You?”
“I tried to call you earlier,” Jimmy says. “I need to speak to you about business.”
Of course he does. Of all the nights.
I force a calm I don’t feel. “As you can see, I’m having dinner with my ol’ lady. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
“It’ll only take a minute,” he presses.
Eden’s smile flickers to something uncomfortable. But before I can shut him down again, Jimmy calls over his shoulder, “Liam, come and keep Eden company.”
My stomach twists. I stand, jaw locked tight, and Liam slides casually into my seat as if he’s been invited personally.
“Queenie,” Liam purrs, leaning in far too close. “How the hell are you, baby?”
I see Eden stiffen, a tiny, involuntary reaction, and something cold slides down my spine.
I step away with Jimmy, but every muscle in my body screams to hurry this shit up. Jimmy’s already walking toward the bar, and if I try to shut him up, he’ll drag it out longer.
I glance back one last time. Why is her hand trembling?
EDEN
I stare at Liam. At first, it’s nothing –– just him, sitting there, too close, too casual.
Then a scent drifts toward me.
Sharp. Zesty. Wrong.
My breath hitches. My fingers curl into fists. Panic uncurls in the pit of my stomach. Somewhere deep inside my mind, a voice I’ve been trying to forget tears through me like a blade.
Don’t look at me like you’re better than me. Thought you were too good, didn’t you? Not so high up now, are you, sweetheart? Hold still. Stay still. That’s it… fucking take it.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
No. No, no, no.
Not him. Please not him.
But the scent grows stronger, and my stomach drops through the floor.
I see flashes, not clear, not whole, but enough. A weight pressing me down. The panic. The dark.
Pain.
So much pain.
My throat closes, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
“Are you okay?” Liam asks, leaning closer, and the smell hits me full force.
It’s him. It was him. It had to be him.
My chair scrapes violently across the floor as I push back, legs trembling. I don’t answer. I can’t.
The restaurant spins as my fingers grip the edge of the table, and I squeeze my eyes closed just for a second, just to try and forget. It’s no good.
And so I run.
I shove through the exit, stumble onto the pavement, and drop to my knees just in time to vomit. A couple nearby jump aside with startled gasps.
“Sorry,” I whisper, wiping my mouth with a shaking hand, tears blurring everything.
“Shit, Queenie––are you okay?” Kade’s voice rushes in behind me, frantic.
I shake my head, clutching my stomach. “Can we go? I feel… I feel terrible.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He puts his jacket around me, his steady hands guiding me to my feet. I bury my face into his collar, breathing in that familiar woody scent until the world stops spinning.
“I’m sorry, Kade,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
He pulls me close, his arm firm and protective around my shoulders. “Don’t be silly. If you’re ill, you need to get home and rest.”
“No––” My fingers find his hand and cling. “I mean about everything.”
His brows pull together, confused and worried, but he squeezes my hand anyway.
And just like that, the truth settles in my chest—the only place I feel safe right now is with him.
KADE
Eden clings to me the entire ride home. I don’t question it. Don’t push. Don’t ask what’s changed. I just keep one hand on her knee and the other on the bars, drinking in the feeling of her leaning against me again. After days of distance, it feels like finally—finally—we’re finding our way back.
The second we’re inside the bedroom, she pulls at my shirt, dragging me toward her like she can’t stand even an inch of space between us. She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses me.
And relief hits me so hard I nearly stagger. She wants me.S he wants us. Maybe whatever’s been hanging between us is finally breaking.
She shrugs my kutte off my shoulders without breaking the kiss, her hands shaking slightly, but I barely notice because she’s here and she’s choosing me again.
Her urgency ignites something deep in my chest.
I guide her back toward the bed, lips still locked with hers, and when she sinks onto the mattress, I brace myself above her, taking my weight on my elbows so I can look into her eyes.
Those blue eyes I’ve missed. Those eyes that used to smile for me.
“I missed you, Queenie,” I whisper, brushing my lips over hers again, softer this time, as though I’m afraid she might vanish if I push too hard.
I run my fingers into her hair, gently tilting her head back so I can kiss my way along her cheek and down the side of her neck. Slow enough to savour, and careful enough to show her I’m not going anywhere.
And for a second, for one pure, blinding second, I let myself believe this is healing.
That we’re healing.
That whatever broke between us is starting to stitch back together.
EDEN
I ball my fists and squeeze my eyes shut. One… two… three… If I can just breathe through it, if I can stay in my body, maybe I can feel normal again.
Kade’s kisses trail along my skin—too rough, too fast, too much. A shiver runs through me, but not the kind it used to be. Not the good kind.
He moves lower, trying to love me the way he always has, but every inch he touches feels wrong. Too heavy. Too close. Too similar to something I’m trying desperately to forget.
My breath hitches. A strangled sound slips out before I can stop it.
He looks up. “Are you okay?”
I stare at the ceiling and nod once, stiffly. “Uh-huh.”
If I can get through this—if I can replace those awful memories with Kade—maybe the flashbacks will stop. Maybe the scent, the voice, the panic will fade.
“Are you sure?” he asks gently. “Because if this isn’t what you want—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in, too quickly. “Actually, let’s just… just get straight to it.”
He freezes. Confused. This isn’t how we are. I’ve always followed his lead, always let him take his time with me.
“Eden, none of this makes sense.”
I force a smile, tugging him back toward me, and kissing him like I mean it. A tear slips down my cheek anyway. Uninvited.
I’ll feel better after, I tell myself. I’ll feel normal again.
But the second he moves closer, panic detonates inside my chest.
I grip the sheets so tightly my knuckles ache. My breath comes in shallow bursts. My vision blurs.
And then—that scent. Sharp. Zesty. Wrong.
My stomach twists violently, and bile scorches my throat.
Keep still. Good girl. Take it. Don’t look at me like that.
My pulse slams against my ribs.
“Kade,” I whisper, barely audible. A flash of pain—real or remembered—I can’t tell the difference anymore. “Kade… stop.” My voice cracks. “Kade, stop.”
He doesn’t hear the fear, just the words. “What?” he asks, confused. “Eden—?”
The flashbacks crash into me. That horrible thudding sound, that voice spitting venom, the terror choking me.
“KADE!” I scream, the word ripped out of me. He goes still instantly, eyes wide. He finally sees the tears streaming down my face. “Get off,” I whisper, gently shoving at his chest. He hesitates.
“Get off,” I repeat, pushing again, my panic spiralling.
He rolls away, breathing heavily, dragging a hand over his face.
I stumble off the bed, dizzy and shaking from head to toe.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” he mutters. His voice is hurt, confused, and defensive. “You started this. I wasn’t even—I didn’t expect—”
My breathing is too fast now, too shallow. My chest is tight, aching, screaming.
“Jesus, Eden,” he snaps suddenly, voice cracking, “you're acting like I—like I just hurt you!”
The words slice straight through me. I flee, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door shut, twisting the lock with shaking fingers.
My back hits the wood, and I slide down until my backside hits the floor.
Silent sobs tear up my throat as I clamp a hand over my mouth.
My whole body trembles uncontrollably. The room spins.
I lie down on the cold tiles, cheek pressed to the floor, trying to breathe.
Trying to focus. Trying to be here, now, in this room, not back there, not in that darkness.
But the panic won’t stop.