Page 102 of Mariposa
“I know that. Get out of my way, Kade!”
“Violet…look at me.” His tone deepens with a crisp, dark hum at the end of his words. His fingers tilt my chin to meet his gaze, but I smack it away, causing him to retreat until his broad shoulders clash with the door. He straightens his posture as I try to grab the knob again, but he blocks it with his waist.
He isn’t letting me go.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he repeats, his voice bleeding with compassion. My legs shake as the memories of my dad come back to haunt me. “You talk about him in your sleep. You are the one who told me.” He pinballs his long index finger at me, then to his chest.
“You joined to honor him, didn’t you? Surpassed all odds, and you fucking did it well, Mariposa.”
I glare at him, finally giving him the attention he seeks.
“He was a father, doing what any other father would have done in that situation. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.”
“You weren’t there! He would still be here if I hadn’t jumped into that river! He’s not here because of me! My mom hates me because of it!” I shout until my throat feels like sandpaper. My brows pinch together as my vision blurs.
“I just wanted to go for a fucking swim, and now he’s dead.” I scoff with a humorless laugh. “I underestimated the currents.”
“I know, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong. Breathe…breathe, okay?” He tries to hold me again, but I resent it.
“Fuck you, Kade.” I shove him away from me, but he doesn’t falter; he remains still. He keeps his beautiful gaze on mine as a tear escapes my lashes.
“It wasn’t your fault. Say it!” he grits out through a clenched jaw, watching me intently.
Before I can suck in another breath, I crash against him, surrendering every cold shut-off part of me. My demons fall into him, nestling into the vast open void he’s letting me bury inside. His strong arms pull me closer to him. Dragging his calloused palms up and down my forearms, over and over again, he comforts me. Those four words sink away the guilt I’ve been feeling. I bury myself in his woodsy cedar scent, crying, but the tears are not derived from pain or grief this time.
They’re a rebirth. A freeing hope of light he’s breathing into me.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I breathe into his side.
The wall I’ve built surrounding my guarded heart is crumbling. No one has ever taken the time to tell me that but him. My mother and sister tossed me aside and placed the blame on me until I believed it. He’s the first person to make me truly see it. He’s healing me in everlasting ways—always looking out for me and anyone he cares about.
He makes me feel safe.
“You know more about me than I do about you. Let me into your world, Kade. How is this fair?”
40
VIOLET
“No more talking,” he demands as we both rip each other’s clothes off. He slips his shirt over his head until it lands on the floor. The sound of rain joins our moans.
“It’s been too long,” I rasp, pulling his hair, wanting to feel him in me. I missed him…I missed this.
“Say it again,” he orders, breathing against my lips until he’s sealing his over mine again.
“Say what?”
Another kiss.
“What you said to me that night in my office.”
Butterflies swarm my stomach as I try to retrace my thoughts from the night. Then it hits me—the night of my first mission. I remembered how his pupils blew when I said three words that struck his cold heart.
“I admire you, Kade.” His tongue strokes mine momentarily before he pulls back. He’s teasing me, stirring up a primal urge to touch him.
“I need you to hold onto that for the next few hours.”
“Why?”
