Page 158 of Wilde and Deadly

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Davey forced himself to breathe through it as he searched for the right words. None came. He’d never been good at this— at talking when it mattered.

“Cade,” he started, his voice rough, “about what happened?—”

“Don’t.” Cade cut him off, finally turning to face him. His blue eyes burned with anger, but there was something else there, too. Something that looked like betrayal. Maybe sorrow. And a touch of hate. “Don’t do the whole ‘let’s talk it out’ thing. I know you don’t mean it.”

God save him from stubborn Wildes. They were all the same—proud, reckless, and incapable of giving an inch, even when it cost them everything.

He bit back a curse and tried to keep his voice level. “That’s not fair, Cade.”

Cade let out a sharp breath, his fists clenching at his sides. “Yeah? Well, neither is getting sold out by my own goddamn family.”

“I didn’t—” Davey caught himself on the edge of the explosion. That was what Cade wanted. He wanted anger and punches because that was easier than talking. “Look, I’m here, aren’t I? If I didn’t really want to work this out, would I be up here, freezing my ass off, when I just got my woman back?”

“Yeah, you would,” Cade snapped. “Guilt has always been your best motivator.”

Davey exhaled his frustration in a low, slow breath that clouded in the air. “Of course I feel guilty. I accused you of being the mole. I didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence?—”

“The evidence was bullshit, and you knew it. But you still looked at me like I was the enemy. And now you’re firing me?”

Still trying to ignite that explosion. Well, he wasn’t going to get it. “I was— and still am— only trying to protect the company. The family. You think I wanted to suspect you? To fire you? You think I’ve enjoyed any of this?”

“You didn’t hesitate.” His voice was louder now, rough and frayed at the edges, barely held back. “Not for a second. Either time. You just decided I was guilty. End of story.”

“We had evidence?—”

“Bullshit evidence.”

“Maybe, but what was I supposed to do? Ignore it?”

“You could’ve trusted me,” Cade said, his voice quieter now but no less cutting. “That’s what you were supposed to do.”

Davey exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “You punched me at Christmas when you found out the uncles were giving me the company.”

Cade let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “And now you’re taking WSW and throwing me out with the trash. Hell of a full-circle moment.” His voice was flat, edged with something cold and resigned.

The words hit harder than Davey expected, knocking the wind out of him for a beat. He looked away, his gaze drifting to the city below, to the faint glow of dawn bleeding into the skyline. “You’re right. I never should have accused you. I fucked up. I let my doubts get in the way, and I’m sorry. But, Jesus, Cade, do you think I wanted to fire you? I didn’t have a choice. They had a fucking gun to Rowan’s head, and it was the only way to make the deal work. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted us to—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “I miss the way things used to be with us.”

Cade scoffed, the sound hollow and sharp. His hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening. “You miss it? Really?” He let out a humorless exhale, his breath shaking with the force of everything he wasn’t saying. “You’re the one who came back from the military, the conquering hero with the busted-up leg, and took everything I’ve spent my life working for.”

“That’s not true,” Davey snapped, anger flaring despite the lead weight of guilt in his gut. “I didn’t want to take anything from you.”

Cade’s eyes burned into him, searing with something deeper than anger. Resentment. Betrayal. Hurt. “Yeah? Well, you did.” His voice cracked, but he steamrolled past it. “You think I don’t know how people look at me now? I’m the fuck-up. The problem. The guy the uncles didn’t trust. The guy barely keeping his shit together. But you?” He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “You get handed the company, the loyalty, the legacy—like it was always supposed to be yours because you were born first. Like all the work I’ve done for this fucking company—this family—never even mattered. Like I never even mattered.”

Davey’s breath came sharper now, the fight in him clawing to be let loose. “You know I never wanted WSW. I never wanted to be in charge, but I did it because the uncles asked me to.”

Cade let out another bitter, humorless laugh. “You could’ve said no.”

“Yeah, I could’ve, but I didn’t. If I could go back…” Davey exhaled hard, dragging a hand through his hair. “No, I won’t lie to you. I would’ve still signed those papers. I love you, Cade. You’re family, but?—”

Cade’s head snapped toward him, his eyes flashing. “Family,” he repeated, voice rough. “Family didn’t stop Brody from betraying Sullivan. Didn’t stop Sullivan from pulling the trigger and putting a bullet in his brother.”

Davey’s stomach twisted. The fractures between Brody and Sullivan led them to that bridge over the river. And now, staring at Cade, Davey wondered if they could heal this fracture between them or if they were headed toward another bridge somewhere down the road.

“Cade—”

“No. I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need your apology. What I need—” He stopped short, exhaling through his nose. “What I needed was for you to let me do my job without treating me like a liability.”

Davey’s throat tightened. “You’ve never been a liability.”

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