I hunch over the table. “My expose is going to land that bastard and all his cronies behind bars, mark my fucking words.”
He brings our joined hands to his lips, lightly pecking my fingertips without dropping my stare. “If there’s anyone who can get the bastard, it’s you, little sinner.”
Blushing, I squeeze his hand. Then a genius idea blooms.
“How do you feel about helping burn Pastor Sinclair at the stake?”
A wicked grin.
“Sign me the fuck up.”
Fifty-Six
SEBA
My phone vibrateswith another unanswered demand from Sinclair. It’s been hours since Andrea whisked Cade away. I haven’t bothered reading the messages. Servitude can wait until they return.
As if on cue, the rumble of a sport bike draws me off the couch. All frustration dissolves as I watch them through the window. They stand next to the bike, hands grasped. Andrea peers up at Cade with a look that shreds my heart. It’s a look she gave me once, years ago, under the stars in the back of my truck.
I’ve caught glimpses of it over the years. A millisecond of it when I’m reckless enough to try again. And I have tried. Every time I attempt to explain myself— to loop her in— she pushes me away, refusing to hear me out. So I’ve gone about it differently.
Maybe one day she’ll look at me that way again, but for now, I’ll admire it from the outside.
Cade bends down, kissing her forehead. Her eyes close, her arms looping around his waist. A thrill hums beneath my skin. He rakes his hand through her glossy waves. I imagine the silky strands through my own fingers. He tugs her head back. My fingers curl into a fist. She arches into him and the memory of her breasts pressed into my chest knocks the wind out of me.Her lips part, dark eyes lost in his. My breath comes in quicker as he brushes his mouth over hers. My tongue tangles around air.
She smiles into his kiss.
It aches. It aches. Itaches. But I can’t look away. I don’t want to. Seeing them reconnect proves that it wasn’t a blip in time. There’s a thread weaving between the three of us that transcends reason and rules.
Cade’s gaze lifts, locking on mine through the window, his lips moving against hers. Heat oozes from the cracks in my broken heart and licks down my spine. I claw at the glass.
I want to be there with them.
Where I belong.
Their kiss ends. Nose to nose, they murmur to each other until Andrea reluctantly untangles herself and straddles the bike once more. She glances at me, pausing with her helmet clutched in her pale hands.
Raw hurt stretches between us.
Let me back in, sweetheart. Please.
Her jaw clenches. She dons the helmet and tears out of the driveway, leaving a gaping hole in my heart.
“Creeping on us?”
I turn away from the window to face Cade. He’s eyeing me suspiciously.
“How is she?”
“Angry.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like our girl.”
He slinks further into the living room, maintaining a few feet of distance. Circling me. “She said you still work for Sinclair.”
“For now.”
A line forms between his brows. It vanishes as he schools a bored expression and resumes stalking around me like the predator he is. It lights me the fuck up.
