A heavy, suffocating stillness fills the room.
Diesel lets out a shaky laugh. “Good one. You had me there—”
“I’m not joking,” I whisper.
“It’s true,” Fern says quietly. “I was there.”
Diesel’s head snaps towards her so fast his kutte shifts. “What?” His voice is low. Dangerous. He grabs her by the arm and hauls her upright. “Tell me this is a joke, Fern.” She shakes her head.
The room seems to shrink around us. My throat closes. I stare at the floor because I can’t bear to see Kade’s face.
Jade touches his arm gently. “Kade…”
He blinks, like he’s coming out of a trance, and lets go of her hand. He steps back once. Twice. Then his voice cracks, hoarse, raw, not quite steady. “Office.” He swallows hard. “Now.”
My chest tightens, and I glance up. “Me or Jade?”
“You.” His eyes snap up, blazing. “You—get in the fucking office. NOW.”
The roar shakes me to my bones. I flinch and hurry past him, hearing Jade gasp behind me.
Diesel and Fern follow, and Kade slams the door so hard the metal frame rattles. He twists the lock. Marches over and yanks the blinds shut in one violent sweep.
Then he goes still.
He stands behind his desk like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. Hands braced on the wood. Head bowed. Shoulders rigid. Breathing too hard.
The silence is suffocating.
I fold my arms around myself, trembling.
When he finally speaks, his voice is gravel.
“Start talking.”
“You told him to follow me,” I begin, my voice barely holding itself together. “I knew someone was watching, and it was freaking me out. Then I saw him, in the shadows so I followed him. I was scared and I…” I swallow hard. “I stabbed him. A lot.”
Kade pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s fighting off a migraine. “You stabbed him,” he repeats, dazed. “My Eden.My Eden stabbed a man to death?”
I nod.
He lets out this cold, disbelieving laugh. “With what? What are you doing––carrying weapons now? You in some kind of fucking street gang?”
“With his knife,” I whisper.
Kade’s eyes pierce me. His eyebrows shoot up. He flicks a glance at Diesel, who only shrugs helplessly.
My body starts shaking. Violent. Uncontrolled. Fern’s voice echoes in my head—adrenaline come down—but it doesn’t help. She didn’t mention how I stop it. My head aches and sickness bubbles quietly in my stomach. I force it down because I am done vomiting in front of Kade. Done looking weak.
He drags a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ. You killed him with his own knife?” I nod again. “How?” he demands, sharper now. “How the fuck did you get a knife off him?”
“He dropped it,” I murmur. “In the struggle.”
His head jerks up. “Struggle? What struggle?” His voice breaks into a shout. “I asked him to follow you, that’s it. There wasn’t meant to be a fucking struggle!”
“There’s more to it,” Fern says quietly.
Kade sinks into his office chair like his legs finally give out. He scrubs his hands down his face and lets out a low groan. “Of course there is. Because why the hell would anything be simple anymore.”
