Page 50 of The Broken Note

Not when I’m talking.

Not during practice.

And sure as freaking hell not when I’m about to plunder Cadence Cooper to within an inch of her life.

Any other girl made me hot like that just to break it off, I wouldn’t have batted an eye before I sent them packing and ignored them cold.

But Cadence?

One jerk of my chain and I’ve got no choice but to come running.

This girl has me wrapped around her pinkie finger and I’m storming into her crappy apartment in this crappy side of town, the sun beating down on me and making me sweat while my rock-hard body protests every freaking step.

Damn.Damn.This is torture.

I should be plastering her to a wall and delving inside her like a maniac.

Keep it cool, Dutch.

I step into the apartment, passing the table where I made myself a sandwich and waited for Cadence to arrive that night. She stumbles right past it, heading for her bedroom.

One look at that bed and it’s over. My mind thickens with more memories of holding her. Biting down on her ear. Plunging into her mouth. Taking her hard and fast.

Calm down.

But at this point, not even a cold shower will do much.

“You need me here for this part?” I ask.

“What?” Cadence says as if half her brain is already beyond this moment.

“Good,” I mumble. Hurrying to the bathroom, I adjust myself and dunk my head under their tiny faucet. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do for now.

I can’t be screwed up in the head. If Cadey needs me to fight, I need my brain firing on all cylinders.

Once I feel like I’m in control again, I glance around the bathroom. Small towels are folded neatly. The shower curtain is pushed back and I force myself not to imagine Cadey getting undressed and stepping under the water.

Everything is small and rusted, but it’s clean.

I sniff. Strange. The faint smell of weed is in the air.

It sure as hell isn’t Cadey’s. She’s wound up so tight that I could pluck her like a guitar string and she’d ring a note.

Is it Viola? Was drugs what caused the fight the other night?

That doesn’t seem likely either. Viola’s smart, much smarter than even her sister gives her credit for. I can totally see her turning that makeup channel into the real deal, getting sponsors, and making an empire for herself. She isn’t as fragile as she looks.

Her sister either.

I open the door, curious but clearing every single shred of emotion from my face.

A rustling sound is coming from Cadence’s bedroom. I head there and find her on her knees, letting out a shocked cry as she stares intently at something in a duffel bag. My eyes drift to the bag too and I stop short.

A stack of bills fill the case.

Cadence’s brown eyes slide from the bag to me and back. “How much was that ring?”

“About twenty grand.” It was my grandmother’s. Vintage. I didn’t want to see it on anyone else’s fingers but hers.

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