Page 70 of Hideaway

“But, why?” Kara asked, trying not to sound as though her heart were shattering into pieces. She was fairly sure itwas.

“Because I can’ttouchyou.” As much as he desperately wanted to hold her and kiss her and wipe away every disgusting, vile thing Jace had done to her body, he didn’t deserve that privilege. She deserved freedom from him. And he deserved a life of purgatory without her.

Kara gasped, unable to silently contain the pain of his words directed at her like tiny blades aimed to draw blood. “Is it…because of what happened with Jace?” she asked hesitantly, agonizing with every word.

“In part,” Cade responded vaguely.

“I thought that wouldn’t matter to you,” Kara answered softly as she avoided his gaze.

“Of course, it fucking matters!” Cade shouted, his anger cracking through the control he tried so desperately to erect. If he had to keep talking about what Jace had done, he was going to obliterate something—anything.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice choked with pain as she felt tears of helplessness and anguish flood her eyes.

Cade remained silent as he continued to wash Kara’s body. If he allowed himself anywhere nearthat, he’d strangle the fucking apology from her fucking throat. She had always been too quick to blame herself. The fact that she felt guilty for the abhorrent situationhe’dpractically thrust her into left him feeling emotionally disemboweled. “Lay your head back,” Cade commanded softly as he poured shampoo into his hands and began to work it into her silky blonde strands.

Kara’s eyes fluttered shut as she allowed herself to be enveloped by the intoxicating scent of mint and cedar as he rubbed his shampoo into her hair. His fingers massaged her scalp, pulling moans from her lips at the blissful strength of his hands. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget Jace’s violence and simply enjoy the feel of Cade’s rough hands in her hair. The moment was far too fleeting.

“I’ll handle Reed,” Cade explained as he rinsed the soap from Kara’s hair. “A man like that is simple and easily bought. I should have taken care of him earlier when things became…complicated.” He wrung the water from Kara’s hair before applying conditioner. “Jace will be more difficult, but I’m certain I can appeal to his mercenary side.”

Cade rinsed the conditioner from Kara’s hair and then motioned for her to sit up in the tub. With painstaking tenderness, he towel dried her hair before combing through the strands to remove the tangles. When he’d deemed his task of tending to her finished, Cade rose to his feet and turned toward the door, clutching the handle so hard his knuckles whitened beneath the force. When he finally looked at Kara, he wore a mask of resolve, though slivers of anguish still cracked through. “When both men have been taken care of and your safety is secured, you are free to go,” Cade announced as dispassionately as he could—as though the words didn’t obliterate every small fraction of hope and happiness he possessed.

As though those weren’t the very words Kara had been begging to hear since he’d taken her to Ashford Manor.

As though those words didn’t rip out her heart and tear it into bloody, mangled shreds of flesh and gore.

“Why are you doing this?” Kara choked out when she’d finally gathered the composure to speak.

“What do you meanwhy? Do you not want your freedom?” Cade answered, a note of frustration seeping into his voice.

“Of course I do,” Kara responded, somehow sounding defensive and desolate at the same time. “But whynow?”

“I think I’ve kept you long enough, Miss Caine. Don’t you?” Cade said bleakly, the words intertwined with utter desolation. Before he could allow himself to beg her to stay, Cade walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Alone, Kara tried to breath through the panic and despair, but her lungs seemed to have abandoned their sacred duty the moment Cade walked out on her. Deciding to sayfuck youto the unruly organs, she held onto a shallow breath and disappeared beneath the surface, allowing the warm, inviting water to swallow her whole.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Slowly, Kara counted as she willed calmness into her body.

Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five.

Slowly, calmness came, though it was an uneasy sort of peace in which total decimation resided on the boundary’s edge. If there was one thing of which Kara was absolutely certain, she was completely and unequivocallyfucked. Cade had fatally embedded himself in her heart like an arrow to the chest, and she feared there would be no removing him without bleeding to death in the process.

Chapter Eighteen

IT had been days since her return to the manor. Days since Jace had kidnapped and destroyed her. Days since Cade had touched her or looked her in the eye or given her more than a passing greeting. Everyone else in the house couldn’t seem to leave her alone. Mrs. Hughes pestered her with tea and biscuits literally every waking moment; apparently, that was the British way of combating irreparable physical and emotional trauma. The morning after her return, aget well sooncard was slid under her bedroom door, where she’d woken up alone. The card was signed by Declan, Brax, and Ortega; she wasn’t exactly sure that the card was the most socially appropriate gesture for a sexual assault victim, but she was touched by the thoughtful sentiment. The men of the house may not be well-versed in the emotional side of things, but they were trying their best.

Later that day, Brax had come to her room to deliver the phone she hadn’t seen since Jace confiscated it at the library. After checking it for any bugs Jace might have planted and giving the device the all clear, Brax installed tracking apps of his own. For the sake of her privacy, Kara had strongly refuted any need to have her whereabouts monitored, but he brushed aside her objections with a firm “Ashford’s orders.” Cade couldn’t fucking talk to her, but he’d send his minions to install spyware on her private property.

Fucking typical, control freak.

Though she was happy to have the privilege of a phone for the first time in weeks, Kara couldn’t be sure if the offer of more freedom from Cade was actually a good sign.

The next afternoon, Kara had received an unexpected visit from Ortega. He’d come with a dainty black box tied with a pretty silver ribbon. To her surprise, it looked suspiciously like a jewelry box. And it had been—a delicate gold bracelet with a lovely little gold heart charm, so pretty and entirely her taste that she happily put it on immediately. But, because no one in the house wasfucking normal, Ortega explained that the lovely little heart inconspicuously housed a goddamn tracking device. Very seriously, Ortega asked her never to take it off, and she had been surprised by the tender concern in his eyes. Then, he threw her for a loop by saying that the bracelet had been a compromise because “Ashford suggested we give you a tracking implant while you slept.”

What in the ever loving fuck, Cade?

Kara rubbed at her wrist, the small bracelet somehow uncomfortably heavy now that she knew it was merely a fashionable ball and chain. What the hell was going on in Cade’s fucked up head? He went through all the motions of safeguarding her safety, of keeping her monitored and within his vicinity, but he hadn’t actually engaged with her in any meaningful way since Jace had kidnapped her. In fact, he avoided her like the goddamn bubonic plague. And Kara was fucking sick of it. She was over Cade acting as though she didn’t exist.

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