Page 76 of Restitution
This is by far the last conversation I want to have with a barely lucid Kade. But as I unlock the door and push it open, my head turns in the direction of the bathroom. The shower is running, and the steam creeping under the door is causing condensationon the window.
I close the door behind me with a click, leaning against it. “Kade?”
The shower cuts off, and a few seconds later, the door swings open, a gust of hot air hitting me as Kade walks out and wraps a towel around his waist. The cloud of steam dissipates around him. His hair is wet, and drops of water slide down his chest.
It’s the wrong time to be looking at him this way, but I haven’t seen Kade like this in so long, I’d forgotten just how handsome and perfect he is. My eyes fall on the scar he hasn’t covered, my gaze following the purple line from the corner of his mouth, all the way down his throat to where it stops, above his heart.
He follows my gaze, and when he looks back up at me, he doesn’t try to hide it.
“She did that?” I ask.
Half a beat passes before he slowly shakes his head. “She made me do it to myself.”
His voice isn’t shaky. It’s clear and deep and makes the butterflies I’ve had since I was fifteen go wild. Even though he just told me that bitch made him cut himself.
“You don’t need to keep hiding it from me,” I say, taking a careful step forward. Blood rushes in my ears, knowing that this more controlled version of him is about to shatter. “But we’re going to make her pay for everything she’s done.”
I go to tell him that she has his dad, but I can’t. The words get trapped in my throat, and I have to grit my teeth together to stop myself from letting out a broken cry.
I should have yanked Tobias’s gun from his waistband and shot her and damned the consequences. She hurt him, and I didn’t do anything about it. But I know she has a failsafe in place – Barry mentioned it before – so even if we’d been able to survivethe onslaught of her men once she fell, there still would’ve been consequences.
Taking her out in a fit of rage would have resulted in everyone’s death.
Kade’s eyes drop down my body, taking in the blood soaking my clothes and staining my skin. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, unable to speak as my eyes burn.
“You’re covered in blood.” He says it with such… normality, as if me being covered in blood isn’t a big deal, as long as I’m not hurt.
“It’s not mine,” is my reply, my eyes watering as I attempt to find the words to tell him exactly whose blood is on me.
“Do you want to use the…?” He gestures behind him, truly confused. “I won’t watch you.”
My cheeks heat. “No. I’m fine.” I fidget my hands in front of me.Tell him, dammit. “Kade, something—”
“I owe you an apology,” he cuts in, walking over to a pile of clothes neatly folded at the bottom of the bed. In amongst them is another face covering to replace the one he lost in the woods. Although I said he didn’t need to hide his scar, he wraps the black material around his face, covering his neck, so it sits just above his top lip. Then his voice is muffled as he says, “I’ve been a bit of a dick.”
I tilt my head at his actions. He seems more lucid than earlier, as if he’s finally snapped out of his breakdown. But his eyes are still bloodshot, both hands still shaking as he attempts to tie the material behind his neck like a bandana, and he drops his top twice when he tries to pull it on.
When he struggles to get his feet into his boxers while holding his towel in place, I move towards him. “Let me help.”
He huffs and runs his hands through his hair, not looking at me while I kneel at his feet and pull his boxers up his legs, stopping at the hem of the towel so he can do the rest himself. I don’t want to cross any boundaries and make him uncomfortable.
Tell him, Stacey.Maybe I can say Jason got hurt and Ewan has taken him to hospital? But then again, that would be me withholding information, sugar-coating a lie.
No more lies.
If he goes downstairs and sees the blood, the destruction, the bodies of some of the men he hired when he formed his own team, he might fall back into that hole in his mind.
I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no idea how to tell him his brother is dead. That his father is gone. I shouldn’t have volunteered to come up here. But it’s Kade.
“My body hurts,” he admits, his jaw tense, and I can tell he’s fed up and pissed off at himself. “It feels like I’ve pulled all my muscles. I can’t pick anything up without fucking dropping it.” He flexes his hands then fists them, the veins bulging. “I felt this way before when Bernadette locked me up for two weeks.” He laughs darkly and shakes his head in disgust, his pinkie spasming as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “So I know what’s up. I’m a junkie with the shakes and seeing shit, needing my next hit.”
“That’s not true,” I say, pushing up to my knees and taking one of his hands. When he doesn’t flinch from my abrupt touch or yank his hand away, I hold it. “You went through a lot, Kade. For years. It’ll take time for you to get used to not being on alert.”
He grimaces and looks down. A few seconds pass, and his voice is low, a rumble in his chest, when it comes. “Why are you here?”
To tell you your brother is dead and your dad is gone, is what Ishould say. But I don’t; I lick my lips and tighten my hands around his. “Because I care about you.”
