Page 130 of Crossed
Panic must show itself on my face because Cade stiffens, his eyes glancing around the room before coming back to me.
“Quin,” I call out, my muscles stiff and sore. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, it hurts to breathe. “Stay close by, dude.” I spin around, watching as he moves into the small sanctuary to the left instead of closer to the kitchen.
Definitely cracked a rib.
Cade moves in front of me, his gloves icy from the winter air as he cups my face, his eyes searching my face. “Are you all right?”
My eyes flutter closed as I sink into his hold. “I did something bad. And I’ll need your help to clean it up.”
Thirty minutes later and I’ve finagled Quinten into a bedroom upstairs while Cade is in the kitchen, seeing the damage I’ve created. I haven’t told him who Sister Genevieve really is yet, but I know that to him, it won’t matter. I lie down next to Quinten in the small bed, listening to his breathing even out and thanking God— if He exists— for keeping him safe, and eventually I stand up, tiptoeing out of the room and making my way downstairs.
Cade’s there waiting with a fresh cup of tea, my mother’s body gone and the broken chair cleaned up like it was never there to begin with.
He sets down the mug, stepping into me and pulling me flush against him, one hand cupping the side of my head and his other gripping my jaw.
“I’m sorry if she was your friend. I just— ”
“Shh,” he soothes, stroking my hair. “I don’t care.”
And now the emotions that were missing well up in the center of my chest, leaving me tired and ragged and worn. I rest my head against his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat, letting it calm me the way it always does. “She was my mother.” His body tenses.“She came up here to, I don’t know, stay close but far away? I don’t really care why. I just…I didn’t mean to kill her.”
He leans back, tipping my chin up with his fingers and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “If she hurt you, she deserved to die.”
I sigh, nodding at his words. “Is there something wrong with me?”
Cade smiles, bringing me back into his chest and wrapping his arms around me, cradling me like I’m his to hold. Like I’m the only thing that matters.
It makes my body warm and my fractured heart swell.
“There’s darkness in us all, petite pécheresse. We just have to learn to control it.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I can help you with that.”
* * *
The next morning,I wake up feeling tired and sore but ready to face the day. Cade fucked me deep into the night last night, kissing away my tears and breathing life back into my bones. He was gentle, and it still hurt, but it was also cathartic. Ineededhim to wash away the memory of Parker and replace it with himself. Because Ichoosehim.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I get out of the shower, staring at his hands, that muscle ticking away in his jaw.
My stomach dips. “What’s wrong?”
He blows out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he turns to look at me, smiling and reaching out his hand.
I take it, letting him drag me into his body until I’m standing between his legs. My hand squeezes the towel around my body tight, dread over what I can justfeelis bad news creeping up along my spine.
“I have to tell you something, and it’s…I’m not sure how to make it okay.”
I back away from him, but he reaches out, gripping my hips and holding me steady. “What’s going on?”
He licks his lips and stares up at the ceiling before meeting my gaze. “Dalia, she—Parker got to her and took Quinten before I could…”
My heart drops into my stomach, vomit rising in my throat, and I push away from him, running to the trash can, dropping to my knees, the towel unraveling around my hips as I throw up into the bin, the taste of bile and grief burning the back of my tongue. Cade moves behind me and holds back my hair as I dry heave.
I look up at him, shaking my head, my vision blurring. “She’s dead?”
He nods, empathy swimming in his gaze. “I’m so sorry, mon trésor.”
My nostrils flare as I nod, sitting upright, my stomach tossing and turning like a ship in a storm. My heart aches, and there’s this pit in my solar plexus, gaping wide and feeling like it might swallow up everything I am.
Sadness grips me by the throat, and I close my eyes, tears squeezing from beneath my lashes and dripping off my chin.
