Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
CADE
The nightmare comes back three nights later.
Not the usual one. Not the faces of soldiers I couldn't save or the kid who called me Dad while he bled out in the dirt. This one is worse.
This one has Natalie in it.
She's running through the woods behind my cabin, barefoot, bleeding, and I'm chasing her but I can't catch up. Every time I get close, she slips further away. And behind her, gaining ground, is a faceless man with hands like vises and a voice that keeps saying mine, mine, mine.
I wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding so hard my ribs ache. Natalie is still asleep beside me. Peaceful. Unaware. I slip out of bed without waking her and pad to the kitchen. Pour myself a glass of water. Stand at the sink and stare out at the darkness while my hands shake.
Three weeks. She's been here three weeks, and I'm already so far gone that my subconscious is creating new nightmares to torture me with.
What the hell am I doing?
I know what Deck said. I know the PI is still searching in the wrong direction. I know we have time to prepare, to plan, to set up every possible defense.
But I also know that none of that matters if Kevin Pierce decides to come for her. Because men like him don't follow rules. They don't respect boundaries. They don't stop until they get what they want or someone stops them permanently.
And if something happens to her because of me? Because I wasn't fast enough or smart enough or strong enough?
I can't survive that. Not again.
The floorboards creak behind me. I turn to find Natalie in the doorway, wearing my flannel, her hair mussed from sleep.
"You okay?"
"Fine." The lie comes out automatic. "Just couldn't sleep."
She crosses to me, her bare feet silent on the wood floor. When she reaches up to touch my face, her fingers are cool against my overheated skin.
"You're sweating." Her brow furrows. "Nightmare?"
"It's nothing."
"Cade."
"I said it's nothing." The words come out sharper than I intended. I see her flinch, see the way she pulls back, and I hate myself for putting that look on her face.
"Sorry." I scrub a hand over my jaw. "I didn't mean to snap."
"It's okay." But she's wrapped her arms around herself, creating distance. "Do you want to talk about it?"
No. I want to go back in time and never let you walk into those woods. I want to lock you in this cabin where nothing can touch you. I want to be the man you think I am instead of the broken mess I actually am.
"Just stress," I say instead. "With everything Deck told us, I've been on edge."
"Me too." She leans against the counter, watching me. "But that's not what's really bothering you, is it?"
I don't answer. Can't answer. Because if I open my mouth, I'm going to say things I can't take back.
"Cade." Her voice is soft. Patient. "Talk to me."
"I can't protect you."
The words fall out before I can stop them. Natalie goes still.
"What?"
"I can't protect you." I turn away, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles go white. "Not really. Not the way you need. I can set up security and run patrols and train you to defend yourself, but at the end of the day, if he wants to get to you badly enough, he will."
"That's not..."
"It is." I cut her off. "I've seen it happen.
Overseas, here, everywhere. People with all the resources in the world still lose the ones they love.
Still fail the people counting on them. I watched half my team die because I couldn't get to them fast enough, and they were trained soldiers. You're..."
I stop. Breathe. Try to find words that don't sound like I'm calling her weak.
"You're not trained for this," I finish lamely. "And I keep thinking about what happens if he shows up and I'm not here. If he catches you alone. If he..."
"If he kills me?"
The bluntness of it makes me flinch. "Yeah."
Natalie is quiet for a long moment. When she speaks, her voice is calm. Too calm.
"So what are you saying? That I should leave?"
"No." The word tears out of me. "That's not what I'm saying."
"Then what are you saying? Because it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself that this was a mistake. That taking me in was a mistake. That we are a mistake."
"Natalie..."
"No." She holds up a hand. "Let me finish. I spent six years with a man who made me feel like everything was my fault. Like I was a burden, an inconvenience, something to be managed instead of loved. I'm not doing that again. Not even for you."
"I'm not trying to make you feel that way."
"Maybe not. But that's what's happening." Her eyes are bright, and I realize with a jolt that she's fighting back tears. "You're pushing me away because you're scared. I get it. I'm scared too. But you don't get to decide for both of us that this isn't worth the risk."
"I'm trying to keep you safe."
"By making me feel unwanted?" She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "That's not safety, Cade. That's just a different kind of a cage."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. I stare at her, this woman who walked thirty miles on cracked ribs to escape a monster, who trusted me enough to let me into her body and her heart, who's standing in my kitchen at two in the morning calling me out on my bullshit.
She's right. I know she's right.
But knowing and accepting are two different things.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit. My voice sounds wrecked.
"I don't know how to love someone and not be terrified of losing them.
Every person I've ever cared about, I've either failed or buried.
My team. My patients. My fiancée who left because she couldn't handle what I came back from the war as.
" I meet her eyes. "I'm not good at this, Natalie. I'm not whole."
"Neither am I." She takes a step toward me.
"You think I have any idea what I'm doing?
I married a man who put me in the hospital twice.
I stayed with him for six years because I thought that was what love looked like.
I'm thirty-one years old and I'm just now learning that I deserve to be treated with basic human decency.
" Another step. "We're both broken. That doesn't mean we have to stay that way. "
"What if I hurt you? Not physically, but... what if I shut down? What if I pull away? What if I'm too damaged to be what you need?"
"Then we deal with it." She's close enough to touch now. "Together. That's what we said, remember? We deal with what's in front of us."
I want to believe her. Want to believe that we can figure this out, that my damage and her damage can somehow add up to something whole.
But the nightmare is still clawing at the back of my mind. Natalie running. Natalie bleeding. Natalie slipping through my fingers while I fail her like I've failed everyone else.
"I think..." I force the words out. "I think maybe we should slow down."
The silence that follows is deafening.
"Slow down," Natalie repeats. Her voice is flat.
"Just until we know what's happening with Kevin. Until the situation is resolved. I can't think clearly when I'm worrying about you, and I need to be sharp if we're going to..."
"Stop." She holds up a hand. "Just stop."
I stop.
"You're not saying you want to slow down because of Kevin." She meets my eyes, and the hurt there guts me. "You're saying it because you're scared of how much you feel. And instead of dealing with that like an adult, you're using my ex husband as an excuse to push me away."
"That's not..."
"Don't." Her voice cracks. "Don't lie to me. Not you. I've had enough lies to last a lifetime."
She's shaking. I can see the fine tremor running through her body, the way she's holding herself together through sheer force of will.
I did this. I put that look on her face. Me and my fear and my inability to be vulnerable without immediately trying to protect myself.
"Natalie." I reach for her.
She steps back. "I need some air."
"It's two in the morning."
"I'm aware." She's already moving toward the door. "I'll be on the porch. Don't follow me."
The door closes behind her with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the quiet cabin.
I stand there for a long moment, staring at the space where she was. Luna whines from her bed by the fireplace, sensing that something is wrong.
"I know, girl." I sink into a kitchen chair and drop my head into my hands. "I fucked up."
The minutes tick by. I should go after her. Should apologize, explain, make her understand that I'm not trying to hurt her, that I'm just terrified of losing her in a way that makes me stupid and careless.
But she asked me not to follow. And after everything she's been through, the least I can do is respect that boundary.
Even if it kills me.
I'm still sitting there when the front door opens again. Natalie steps inside, her arms wrapped around herself, her face streaked with tears she's tried to wipe away.
"I'm not leaving," she says quietly. "I don't have anywhere to go, and even if I did, I wouldn't run from this. From us. That's what Kevin would expect me to do, and I'm done letting him dictate my choices."
"Natalie..."
"But I need you to understand something.
" She crosses to stand in front of me, looking down at where I'm slumped in the chair.
"I can handle your fear. I can handle your damage.
I can handle the nightmares and the walls and the moments when you forget how to be vulnerable.
What I cannot handle is being treated like a burden you're trying to figure out how to put down gently. "
"You're not a burden."
"Then stop acting like I am." She crouches down so we're eye level. "I know you're scared. I know you've lost people. But I'm not one of your soldiers, Cade. I'm not asking you to save me. I'm asking you to love me. Those are two different things."
The truth of it settles into my chest like a weight I didn't know I was carrying.
She's right. Again. About all of it.
I've been so focused on protecting her, on keeping her safe, on not failing her the way I failed everyone else, that I forgot the most important part. She doesn't need a guardian. She needs a partner. Someone who stands beside her, not in front of her.
"I'm sorry." The words feel inadequate, but they're all I have. "I'm so sorry. I got scared and I handled it badly and I hurt you, and none of that is okay."
"No. It's not."
"I don't want to slow down." I take her hands in mine. They're cold from being outside, and I warm them between my palms. "I don't want distance. I want you, Natalie. All of you. Every broken piece and every sharp edge and everything you think makes you damaged."
"Then act like it." Her voice is still hard, but I can see her softening. "Show me. Don't just tell me what you think I want to hear."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to stop trying to protect me from yourself." She squeezes my hands. "I'm not afraid of your darkness, Cade. I've lived with real darkness. Yours doesn't scare me. What scares me is the thought that you might use it as an excuse to push me away."
"I won't." I pull her forward until she's standing between my knees, until I can wrap my arms around her waist and press my face against her stomach. "I won't, Natalie. I promise."
Her hands find my hair, stroking gently. "We're going to fight sometimes. We're going to say things we don't mean. That's what happens when two broken people try to build something together. But we don't walk away. We don't give up. Deal?"
"Deal."
I hold her for a long time. The cabin is quiet around us, the dogs settled, the night pressing against the windows. When she finally pulls back, her eyes are red but her expression is resolute.
"Come back to bed," she says.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." She tugs me to my feet. "But Cade? If you ever try to noble sacrifice our relationship again, I'm letting Vivian handle you. And she's pregnant and hormonal and absolutely terrifying."
Despite everything, I laugh. "Noted."
We climb back into bed together, but this time she curls around me instead of the other way around. Her body is warm against my back, her arm draped over my chest, her breath soft against my neck.
"Sleep," she murmurs. "We'll figure out the rest tomorrow."
I close my eyes and let the rhythm of her heartbeat carry me under.
The nightmare doesn't come back.