They’re so wrong. Cade is chaos—a storm that tears through anything in his path. I’m just another piece caught in his whirlwind.
I’m not sure how long I stand on the porch, lost in the churn of my thoughts.
And then, a low rumble cuts through the hammering rain. At first, I think I’m imagining it. But then it comes again, louder—the unmistakable growl of a motorcycle engine.
My heart slams against my ribs.
No. It can’t be him.Must be a straggler from the charity run who got caught in the rain.
Through the chain-link fence, a single headlight pierces through the darkness, weaving up the beaten dirt road. The bike’s growl vibrates through the rain-soaked ground, and I feel it running through me.
Then, the bike skids to a halt. The rider swings his leg over with effortless grace, water dripping off his leather jacket as the engine cuts off.
I’d recognize that silhouette any fucking where.
48
Luna
Myfeet move before my brain catches up.
I’m running—sprinting off the porch into the pouring rain, my heart threatening to burst. I can barely breathe through the disbelief and relief and everything else I’ve been holding in.
I launch myself at him, feeling like I can finally breathe for the first time in days.
“Cade,” I whisper, my voice shaking as my fingers clutch his leather jacket, face pressed against his chest. His arms lock around me, warm and solid, grounding me in the middle of the storm.
“Baby,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice low and rough, like he’s barely holding himself together. “I’m back.”
I pull back just enough to search his face. Rainwater trails down his sharp jaw, and there’s something dark and raw in his eyes. Something that mirrors all the chaos I’ve been feeling.
“I thought—” The words catch in my throat.I thought I’d lost you.
Cade shakes his head, his gaze burning into mine. “I told you I’d be back when I was finished.”
I swallow hard, my tears mixing with rain. “Antonov’s dead?”
He cups my face in one hand and runs his other hand down my left arm until he reaches the rosary wrapped around my wrist.
“You were right. I was finished before I left for Moscow. I just couldn’t admit it.”
I crash into him, hands gripping his neck like he’s the only solid thing left in this world. His fingers dig into my waist, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“I’m done,” he murmurs against my throat.
His confession wraps around me like a warm blanket. He came back. For me. My hands tighten in his hair, wet strands sliding through my fingers as I look up at him. His face is hard, jaw clenched, eyes stormy, but there’s something else there—something raw, surrendered.
Words don’t matter now. I pull him down to me, our lips crashing together like I’m starving and he’s salvation. He growls and deepens the kiss.
The rain pours hard, but Cade’s heat is all I feel. Everything about this moment burns—his touch, his taste, the desperate way he holds me like he’s trying to make up for every second we were apart.
He breaks away and drops his forehead to mine. “I’ll turn my back on anything else to keep you.”
His mouth finds mine again and he pours everything into me, everything he can’t say, everything he’s felt since that first night.
Thekiss burns through my blood, my bones, my soul. His hands brand every inch they touch—waist, back, sliding under my wet shirt to find bare skin and I shiver with need.
“Cade . . .” I gasp, but he swallows my words with another crushing kiss, hands gripping my waist hard enough to bruise. I want those marks, need every reminder that this is real.