Page 35 of Wilde and Deadly

Cade had been different with her. He wasn’t the cold, calculating bastard everyone else knew him as. He was softer, gentler—like the edges of him had been sanded down just enough to let some light in.

“He’s a different guy around her. I’ll give him that.” Davey sighed. “I guess I haven’t really made an effort there. It’s just... every time I see Cade, he’s got this look in his eye like he’s contemplating my murder.”

Tessa’s lips quirked into a small, sad smile. “That’s just his resting face these days. But I think if you made the effort, he might surprise you. He needs to hear you’re on his side, even if he’s not ready to admit it yet.”

Davey let the words settle, but doubt twisted in his gut. How was he supposed to be on Cade’s side when Cade wasn’t on his? Every time they spoke, it felt like another battle. Like Cade was waiting for him to fail so he could say, ‘I told you so.’

“I don’t know. I’m not sure he even wants to fix things.”

“Maybe not right now,” she admitted. “But he’s not a lost cause, Davey. He’s just... hurting. You might be the only person who can get through to him. You two used to be so close, and I hate seeing you at each other’s throats like this. Just talk to him. Please?”

Davey swallowed against the knot forming in his throat. Once, Cade had been his best friend. Back before everything had gone to hell.

But things weren’t like that anymore. They hadn’t been for a long time.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I’ll think about it.”

Tessa offered him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s all I’m asking.” She stood, slinging her med kit higher on her shoulder, and nodded toward the bedroom on the second floor. “Take care of her, okay? And yourself. I’ll check back in tomorrow, but call me if you need anything before then.”

Davey nodded. “Thanks, Tess.”

She hesitated in the doorway, her dark eyes lingering on him. “Don’t wait too long to talk to Cade, Davey. You both deserve better than this.”

With that, she left.

He leaned back in his chair, her parting words echoing in his mind. And whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to find a way to fix this thing with Cade—for the sake of the family and for WSW.

nine

Rowan woke gasping,her breath sharp, her pulse a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. Instinct had her scanning the room even before her brain came fully online.

A dark gray comforter, heavy over her legs. A sturdy bed, built like it wasn’t meant to move. Soft blue walls with a framed world map hanging over the headboard. The scent of cedar and leather wrapped around her, grounding her before she could remember why she shouldn’t feel grounded at all.

She knew that smell.

She knew this room.

Soft light bled through the blackout curtains, edging the two floor-to-ceiling windows. The city’s ever-present hum barely reached inside, as if this space—hisspace—existed in a world apart.

She swallowed hard, her gaze landing on the nightstand. A digital clock’s glowing numbers, a book with a worn spine, and a framed photo of Jude and Libby Wilde, smiling, with Elliot and Dominic beside them.

And—

Davey.

Flashes of memory slashed through the haze. Blood slick on her hands. The wheel slipping under her grip. The tilt of the world as she stumbled out, breath ragged, vision swimming.

Luka’s anxious whine.

Davey’s face—concern carved deep into his expression.

And then—nothing.

Her stomach twisted, nausea rising fast.

God, why had she come here? The whole point of running was to keep Davey safe. Yet here she was in his fucking bed.

No.

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