He shrugs. "Tell me that Daddy Gardel didn't use the tough love approach now and then."
Yes, he had. But that was in terms of schoolwork, learning to fight my own battles against bullies, and learning to ride a bike like one of the big boys. He'd permitted scrapes and black eyes, and bad grades but never something seriously life threatening. Before I can form an appropriately horrified retort, he changes the subject.
"A less than phenomenal lay, huh? Does it pale in comparison to what you remember?"
"That's not it."
In truth, it had been incredible. The best sex that I've had in years and the most potent orgasm I've had without the use of a toy to aid me.
"Then what?"
Instead of answering directly, I ask the question that's been burning in the back of my mind for years.
"If I asked you to run away with me now, would you?"
I've envisioned it a thousand times in my weaker moments. I'll spin elaborate scenarios where my MC Romeo crosses the boundary to rescue me from the constraints of my life. Where he slings me onto the back of his Eagle and speeds far away, to a place where no one has ever heard of Sleepless Spades or Calamity Kings.
I'm too cowardly to glance up between my lashes to gauge his reaction. It's not like me to shy away or run from things, but I've done both in the last twenty-four hours. There's something about Kase Cruz that undoes me, makes me react in ways I wouldn't normally. He always has, and likely always will.
His hand slides into mine, lacing our fingers. He's astonishingly warm, given the chill in the air and the lack of heat in the cabin. I flex my fingers closer unconsciously, trying to leach some of his heat. He gives my hand a squeeze in return.
"No," he says finally. "If you'd asked me two years ago..."
He heaves a sigh, and my heart plummets. It's the answer I've always feared and expected. Beneath all the naive hope lays the answer I've always known we'd reach. Life has thrown too many stumbling blocks into our path to make it realistic. But it hurts more than I expect it should to watch my dreams shatter and crumble into dust.
"That's what I thought," I mumble, trying to hide my disappointment and failing miserably.
Kase slides two fingers beneath my chin and tugs my face up so he can get a good look at me. "You know I would if things were different. But with the Hellions and whatever fresh hell the Kings are pulling..."
He doesn't need to explain himself. I get it. I really, really do. There is a reason I didn't go straight to daddy after the first attempt. Playing keep away with the bastards that are after me is the best way to keep them away from my father. I can't blame Kase for being unwilling to abandon the only family he has left. It's just disappointing that I'm never going to be counted among that number.
I tug my hand from his and the cold rushes in to embrace me when my skin is no longer touching his. I shiver even as I push to my feet and turn back toward the cabin.
"Let's go to bed Kase," I say, trudging back toward the squat building, spirits dragging on the ground behind me. "I'm sick and fucking tired of this day."
9
Kase
It's not immediately apparent how much time has passed when I wrench my eyelids open. The view outside the window is still tinged gray and mostly obscured by fog. The dark outlines of spruce trees loom in the distance and my paranoid mind tries to read shapes into their shadows. But so far as I can tell, no one has found us yet.
I roll over with a groan and fish my phone from my abandoned jeans pocket. I'm shocked the thing is still working between the rain and the sad lack of charge I've been able to provide. Still, it screams a shrill ringtone into the night, and I know exactly who's on the other end even before I check the caller ID. I programed the most annoying ringtone for this number on purpose.
Jamming the green button with my thumb, I slap the phone to the side of my face and grumble;
"What the fuck do you want, Cruz?"
I half expect Brooklyn to stiffen beside me at the sound of his name, but she dozes peacefully on. She looks younger without the worry puckering her brow and the tinges of despair tightening her eyes, making them look deep-set and haunted. I can almost imagine her as my teenage lover for that brief instant, before reality piles back onto my shoulders.
"You get back here right the fuck now, Kase. This shit goes far, far beyond the pale. Come back and Imightdecide to let you live after I've turned your face into pulp."
"Somebody missed his orange juice and Wheaties," I quip, sitting up. My body is a little sore from the long ride, the bedroom gymnastics, and the effort to scrunch myself onto the small bed with Brooklyn.
Cruz is not amused. Though that isn't a fucking shock, now is it? Cruz hasn't been amused by anything I've done since we were both in pull-ups. Then he says it, the words that pierce the sardonic bubble I've been insulating myself in.
"Where the fuck is Brooklyn, Kase? Drew saw the pair of you together at the chop shop."
Motherfucking son of a bitch. If I get out of this mess alive, I'm going to press Drew's head in his compactor. I paid him a hundred bucks to fuck off for one hour. Instead he stuck around to rat me out to Cruz. Probably figured two payouts are better than one.
