Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
My neighborhood is falling apart, but it's still home to me. I've lived in the same house since the father I don't even remember left my mom when I was a baby. We never had much growing up, but my mom worked hard to provide for us, and our house was full of love.
"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," Cade says.
I cry out, alarmed as he pops up on the other side of the porch railing. I never even heard him coming. My hand flies to my chest, trying to calm the way my pulse pounds with fear.
"You scared me," I mutter, and then I get a good glimpse at him.
He looks awful. Even with all those tattoos and that hardness—the dangerous vibe that radiates from him although he's standing completely still—he's too handsome for words. But his eyes are troubled and rimmed with dark shadows. His jaw is scruffy where he hasn't shaved. His hair is a mess, and his jeans and black t-shirt are wrinkled. The gauges in his ears and the piercing in his nose make him look dangerous in a way I find far too appealing. The bandage on his arm is gone, revealing a cut about four inches long. There are still a couple of stitches holding the edges of his puffy skin together. His hands are all cut up now too.
Has he been fighting?
"I'm not the monster in the dark you should be afraid of, ba–January," he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His gaze roves across my face, but he never meets my eyes. Even then, I feel exposed in a way I never have before.
"I'm not afraid of Kaleo." I pull my legs up into the chair and wrap my arms around my knees as if that will keep him from seeing the painful, ugly things inside that still hurt.
"You should be." He climbs up the steps, his footfalls heavy on the old wood. His boots and the bottoms of his jeans are splattered with mud. He stops at the top and props his shoulder up on the post, still watching me. "He's after the park. He won't stop until he gets it or someone stops him."
"He can't have it. It's mine."
Cade eyes me for a minute and then sighs.
"Where were you all these years?"
I don't think he's going to answer me, but he mutters a soft curse. "The Army at first, and then Seattle."
"You enlisted?"
He jerks his head in a nod. "I served less than a year before I was discharged."
"I didn't know that." There's so much I don't know. What happened to him while he was gone? He's not the same boy I knew. This version of Cade is…dark. Dangerous. The haunted weariness in his eyes leaves me with the distinct impression that he carries the weight of the whole world on his broad shoulders and has for a long time, but there are seven years of history there that I don't understand.
He's like a lullaby sung in a different language. The notes are the same, but the lyrics have changed. I don't know what they mean now.
"I didn't think you were still here," I say when he doesn't speak. "Your bike is gone."
"I left it with a friend," he says.
"Oh."
An awkward silence stretches between us. I hate it. Being with him was like breathing. It was effortless. I didn't have to think about it or worry about it. He never made me feel out of place or like I didn't fit. He made me feel like I mattered. Like I had a place and a purpose. People accepted me because of him and Titan. All these years later, people still accept me because of them.
"I'm sorry about last night," I whisper, my heart pounding. Now that the moment's here, I'm unsure where to begin unburdening myself.
"There is no other woman." He fidgets, rocking on his heels and then running a hand through his hair. He looks out into the yard and then down at his feet. "I had to come back. The guy who took my friend's wife wanted to do some seriously fucked up shit. Letting that happen wasn't an option."
"Oh." I swallow and then lick my lips, feeling guilty for being jealous. It's such a petty, destructive emotion. "Is…is she okay?"
"Not really, but she will be. She's got Tristan. He'll make sure she's straight."
"That's good then."
We drift off, both peering everywhere but at each other. I stare out into the yard. The flowerbeds will need to be weeded soon. Dandelions keep popping up all over the place.
"Are you staying for long?" I ask to fill the silence and then peek up at him.
He's watching me this time, a furrow between his brows.
"Didn't plan on it, but who knows?" He shrugs, that furrow growing deeper. His face is so much more severe than it used to be. There's a wild savagery there that I only ever saw once—the day he got into a fight with Corey Love in the park over me.