Another red light, but there are far too many cars passing in front of us to risk going through it. I finally stop and search my surroundings. Barry and the rest of my men are in a chase.
“Who was he?” she asks, breathless. “He looked familiar.”
“Someone I never want you to meet again,” I reply, rubbing her thigh over mine, trying to comfort her at the same time as holding her dress down.
I hear her gulp. “Is he dangerous?”
“Dangerous is an understatement.” I look at her through the visors. “Once we deal with them and know it’s safe, I’ll get you to the jet. I want you to go straight home and tell your brother Kyle not to leave your side. I’ll make sure they don’t find out who you are.”
“No. I already have a flight booked.”
“Don’t argue with me on this. Hold tight.”
The lights turn green, and I shoot off, her helmet hitting into mine.
I hear gunshots behind us again, the fight gaining on us. If I had a weapon, I’d help, but not only am I annoyingly unarmed, but I also need to protect Stacey.
“Go left, sir. We’ll go right. Go through the back of the hotel. It’s clear.”
“Be careful. If you get killed, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Barry snorts, the connection growing weak. “Got it, boss.”
38
KADE
We make it to the hotel in under an hour, and as Barry said, the place is clear, bar all of my guards standing outside and inside, patrolling the stairways and the surrounding area.
I slip in the back, Stacey in hand. The place is like a ghost town.
As soon as we get to the room, I can breathe.
Stacey pulls the helmet off and drops it on the sofa, hands on her hips. “Talk. Now.”
“No.” I point to her suitcase and the clothes surrounding it. “Pack.”
One of the guards gave me a charger, so I plug my phone in and wait impatiently for the screen to turn on. I look up when I don’t hear movement. She’s still standing in the middle of the room, glaring at me.
I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Move. Pack your things. We don’t have time for you to fuck around.”
As soon as a bunch of notifications pop up from Base, drunk and being his annoying fucking self, I drop to the edge of the bed, elbows to my knees. Stacey cuddles herself in my peripheral, lowering to the couch. “Kade. Please. I need you to tell me what’s going on here.”
She deserves to know. But I also don’t want her to know. Will she look at me differently if I tell her everything? Will she understand why she needs to stay away from me?
I came back home because Bernadette loosened her leash on me after putting me through a hard month of brutality, and the only reason I didn’t snap her neck then and there was because she threatened to have my dad killed and make it look like a suicide. All this shit with my ex just… happened.
The connection between us is too strong, and I didn’t even want to fight the pull.
I welcomed it. Since the moment I picked her up from that house, I’ve felt less dead inside. A speck of light in my darkness with her name on it.
Stacey broke my teenage heart, but there are more problems in my life than dwelling on the past. I’m not going to marry her and have children; I don’t get to have a happy ending. There was no harm in us having fun. Messing around. I made it clear when she was between my legs on the plane that it meant nothing, but I think I was telling myself more than her.
I’d just hurt her or get her killed.
I’ve taken so many lives that I’m numb to death. What does that say about me? I don’t deserve anything good in my life.
She can do way better.
“Kade.”
My name is a caring whisper, breaking me away from my erratic thoughts. She kneels in front of me, gently taking my wrists to halt me from texting a reply to Base.
“Who was he? And why are you trying to rush me out of the country?”
Tingles attack me, and I stare at her fingers on my skin, but she quickly pulls them away like I’ve burned her.
I close my eyes, wiping my palms down my face before looking at her. “I work for him and his wife.”
Correction: I work for Bernadette Sawyer. Archie is just a filthy disease that floats around in her rotten shadow.
She frowns, a deep line forming between her brows. Whether she’s mad, confused, happy, aroused or sad, Stacey is the definition of beautiful.
“They’re the ones who get your contracts?” she asks.
“Among other things, yes,” I reply, nodding once.
Her eyes are mesmerising as she takes me in; as she studies my anxious expression. If I bring her closer to me, I’ll see each shade, the little clusters of gold circling her pupils.
I remember when we found out we were going to have a kid, I wanted them to have her eyes. I wanted them to have everything that made Stacey who she was .
Smart.
Brave.
Confident.
Beautiful.
I wipe a tear from my face as I hold my girlfriend in my arms. “We can try again, okay? We were supposed to be parents. We were supposed to have a family. I love you, Freckles. I love you so much.”
Stacey weeps into my chest, her body shaking through each sob as she shakes her head. “I can’t. I can’t go through that again, Kade.”
I want to take in everything about her while I can. Because I’m certain this might be the last time I see her.
Having her so close to me is cruel, even for a man like me.
“Why are they coming after me?”
Fuck. How do I even explain this? Oh, Bernadette tricked my heartbroken teenage self into her house, groomed me until she got me into bed and has been blackmailing me ever since?
How about adding they got me addicted to drugs?
Or Archie having his way with me while I was unconscious because I was three hours late on finishing a job?
I wanted to fucking die for weeks after waking up in my own blood and piss. No one, let alone a helpless and scared nineteen-year-old kid, should go through that.
I’ve been planning his death for a while now. When I get out of these shackles, I’ll make it fucking hurt.
A hand presses to my cheek, pulling me back to the now. “Where did you just go?”
Where I always go. The void in my head.
I gulp. Stacey takes my other hand, which has been rubbing the side of my leg repeatedly. “I’m… I’m not supposed to have any relationships outside of work.”
Stacey tilts her head, releasing my cheek to take my other fidgeting hand. “Why?”
A rush of humiliation courses through me. “Because I belong to them. If I don’t do what they say, people around me pay the price.”
“What?” Her eyes go wide. “Go to the police!”
I force myself to laugh. “They own them too.”
Technically, they own Scotland and over half of the underworld.
Sighing, I stare at her, take in how concerned she is for me. I pull my hands from hers and cup her cheeks, stroking my thumbs under her watering eyes. “Don’t worry about me, Freckles. I told you – this is my life now. I’m not dragging you into it as well.”
“You need to tell someone,” she says, holding my hands to her face. “Please.”
“And watch my family disappear, only for their bodies to show up months later?” I let go of her face. “No.”