Page 104 of Fractured Devotion
His jaw tightens.
I feel the last of my balance sway as the room warps, and the air turns cold.
And then, he steps forward, not fast, not urgent. Just close.
Close enough that I smell him—sharp and warm, like clean linen threaded with something darker.
His voice drops. “Do you believe me now?”
My throat tightens, my arms folding in on themselves as if I could shield myself from everything he’s implying and from everything that camera represents.
“Who put it there?” I whisper.
Kade doesn’t move. “That’s what I intend to find out.”
He walks over to the bathroom door next and slides it open. The light inside flickers, and I follow him in, slower and more hesitant. He checks the overhead panels, behind the towel cabinet, and behind the mirror. Another silence stretches.
And then, he finds the second one.
It’s tiny and hidden in the air vent above the showerhead.
This time, I do back away.
He uninstalls it without a word and drops it into a small, black pouch from his coat. Then he turns and faces me.
“There might be more,” he says, his voice low. “But I doubt they’d risk another. Two was already bold.”
“I feel like I’m being stripped,” I say.
His gaze flickers. “Then let me be the one to clothe you in truth.”
It’s a strange line, and it should feel manipulative. But coming from his mouth, it sounds protective.
My breathing is too shallow, and my back hits the wall as I move to escape the feeling.
He doesn’t pursue. He doesn’t press.
“I’ll look around and see if I can find the camera relay somewhere,” he says. “So we can trace the signal. But I doubt they’d be that dumb to want to get caught like that.”
I nod because it’s the only thing I can do.
He looks around for what seems like forever, and when he can’t find any other devices, he retreats, ready to leave.
And then, because something in me cracks wide, I say, “Stay. Just for a moment.”
Kade’s expression softens, just barely.
He nods once, follows me into the living room, and sits down beside me on the couch.
He’s close and still. Like a shadow that I invited in.
We don’t speak.
And that, somehow, is louder than anything else.
His presence next to me is like pressure, steadily increasing, yet not quite unbearable. Kade says nothing and does nothing. He just breathes in time with me.
I realize I haven’t done that in the longest time. Breathe with someone.
