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)
That's the one that still bothers me. All the rest, I did what I had to do to stay alive. But killing a woman fucked me up a little bit. I think it always will.
"These are from a broken beer bottle someone stabbed me with," I murmur, moving on to the two small scars near my collarbone. "The cartel member who did it is still in prison for the attempted murder of a law enforcement officer. This one," I tell her, placing her hand over the one on my sternum, "is what happens when you aren't careful. Some nineteen-year-old kid barricaded himself inside a woman's house after shooting and killing two rival gang members. I went in after him. Thought I had him subdued, but I didn't see the knife in his boot. He stabbed me and then grabbed the woman, intending to kill her. I shot him."
Tears well in January's eyes, and her hand trembles as she explores each scar with tentative fingers. "None of that was your fault," she whispers as her little hand slides across my skin, leaving me aching with need. "You were just doing your job."
God, she's so innocent, so trusting. I pull out the note Kaleo's boys left for her to find. The one I stole to keep my secret. I hold it out to her.
Ask him who he killed.
She peers down at it, frowning in confusion as her eyes track across the scrap of paper.
"This is who I am, baby girl. It's who I was long before the DEA put a badge in my hand and told me to have a go at keeping Seattle's gangs in line. I'm a killer," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "The day before I left Los Angeles, I murdered three people. I don't regret it. I'm not sorry. It doesn't haunt me."
"Why are you telling me this?" she whispers, searching my face for some answer I'm not sure I know how to give her.
"You wanted to know why I'm so goddamn afraid you'll hate me," I tell her, keeping my gaze locked on her face. My throat burns like fire. "The three people I killed then, all the ones I've killed since…I don't regret it. If I had to do it all over again, I'd make the same choices. I'm not a good man. The only reason the DEA put a badge in my hands is because I'm the only thing motherfuckers like Kaleo are afraid of. I'm the monster who keeps the other monsters in line, and I'm the one they answer to when they step over that line."
"You aren't a monster."
There's so much you don't know. Things that would horrify you if you did."
Those deaths aren't the worst of my sins. They aren't the ones that haunt me.
"You're wrong, Cade," she says, sliding her hand up my chest to my shoulders. Her other joins it before she slides off the couch, wrapping her body around mine. Her lips ghost across my chest, pressing kisses into my skin. "There's nothing you could say that would ever make me hate you. I know why you killed those men, and I don't care. If you're bad, then so am I because I've always known you were the one who killed them, and I kept that secret for you."
"Ah, sweetheart," I groan, trying to find the strength to tell her the parts she doesn't know.
"I lied to you," she whispers into my skin, those soft lips roving everywhere she can reach. "I can't fall in love with you because I never fell out of love with you to begin with. I've been waiting to be yours again for so long. Don't make me wait anymore. Please."
Christ. She's killing me. Each word that drops from her lips tears at my resolve until it's shredded into nothing. It's in tatters around me, unable to withstand the power she has over me. My body, my heart, my soul…every piece of me belongs to her. It has since she was four years old, racing toward Titan.
When she's not wrapped around me, pleading with me to make the ache go away, I'll tell her everything and face the consequences. Until then, my girl needs me. She's hurting for me, and I'm not strong enough to tell her no. I never have been.
"Never, baby girl," I vow and lift her into my arms. "I'll never keep you waiting again."
Chapter Fourteen
January
Then (Age Eighteen)
"I think I have the plague," Mariah mumbles and then coughs loudly.
"You sound like you have the plague," I tell her, setting my cell phone on the counter so I can pull my hair up into a ponytail. "You should stay home tonight. I love you and all, but I don't want whatever you've got."
"You won't be upset if I'm not there?" she asks me, clearly worried.