Damage: (Lakefield Book 5) Page 11

  “No, they never touched him, though. Ever. Not when they had me to take their crap. He seemed to be just as messed up as they were by the time I left. They were horrible people, all three of them. Last I heard, they'd moved to a different state.”

  “You turned out okay. Beat the odds. Maybe he did too.”

  He gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, other than being a recovering alcoholic that still has nightmares about getting my ass kicked as a kid for not wanting to drink with them.”

  A gasp slipped out of my mouth. “Wait, you said something about that, but I thought… Well I thought you meant it figuratively. Like you were around it so much that it was in your face all the time. I guess I misunderstood.”

  He shrugged. “No. I meant that quite literally. I think the first time I had a drink I was like five or something. My parents thought it was funny to get me drunk in front of their friends. After a few times I got smart and tried to stay out of the house when they had friends over. I fell asleep in the dog house a couple of times. With the dog. I miss that fucking dog more than my parents.”

  “What the fuck?”

  He chuckled. “Babe, no matter what happened in your past with your dad, believe me when I tell you that even in their worst moments of parenting, he probably loved you far more than mine ever showed me.”

  My mouth hung open for a minute, trying to understand why anyone would be so flippant about the whole thing. His laugh had been short, maybe even resigned, but didn’t sound bitter.

  He held up a hand before I could speak again. “I know you probably have a lot of questions about it. But right now, is right now. I’m not a product of my past.”

  “Everyone is a product of their past.”

  He looked irritated for a moment. A small flash of anger, before he glanced away. “It happened. It’s over.”

  “Have you ever talked to anyone—”

  “Don’t need to.”

  “What about the alcohol? Did you go to someone?”

  “No. Discipline.”

  “I’m not saying you need it, but what if something major happens and you get stressed out? What if this serial killer clown kills me and you go back to it? Do you have someone to…”

  He closed the distance between us before I could finish my sentence. His hands wrapped around my arms in a tight grip as he frowned down at me. His expression was furious, and it was the first time that I truly noticed how intimidating he could be.

  He shook me gently as he spoke, emphasizing his frustration. “You aren’t going to die on me. I won’t let you. That’s the whole reason we need to step back from Mick and his cronies. I know they’re outside casing the house right now. Mick is smart enough to have half the block covered. That’s great and all, but this fucking douchebag is smarter. And I’m going to make damn sure that I have people working on this that can figure it out. People that I trust not to fuck this up.”

  “I—”

  “No, listen. You’re in some serious danger here, Suzanne. But you have me and you’ll have the guys. No one is going to touch you. I’ll go to prison first before that happens.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Cade, that’s ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think you’re really getting this,” he said as he squeezed my arms almost painfully. “Fucking listen. I’ve given up my life for months trying to help these guys. You come in here, and now you’re a target of something. The killer, a prank, a fucking mistaken delivery. Who the fuck knows? And you’re making it sound like you lost your keys or something. Something stressful, but normal all the same. You're missing the severity of this.”

  I chewed on my lip, and didn’t bother denying it, as I looked past him. This whole thing seemed pretty bizarre. Like something out of a movie, and I just happened to be one of the people starring in the film. It was a surreal feeling. Earlier it scared the crap out of me, but now it just seemed so ludicrous that I would be targeted at all.

  “I was just asking about the drinking.”

  He shook me slightly again until my eyes completely met his angry ones. “It doesn’t matter about the drinking. The shit that happens afterward doesn’t matter if you’re not around to see it. Who the fuck cares?”

  “Your point?”

  He let out a frustrated growl. “My point is that you don’t fuck around with this and you don’t make it seem like a fucking joke. A distraction to your daily schedule. I want to make sure you understand. You’re one of the toughest women I know and I…”

  His arms slid around me and pulled me tight against his chest. “I know that you’re pretty badass. You’ve been through some tough shit, and you’re smart enough to get yourself out of bad situations. But this is as tough as it’s ever going to get. You have to take this seriously. Don’t ever make this shit sound like a joke again.”

  I laid my head against his chest, trapped in his arms with no desire to go anywhere else at the moment. His heartbeat was fast, but steady as I listened to it and absorbed what he’d said.

  After a moment I whispered, “I don’t deal with shit the same way other people do.”

  “I know,” he said against my hair. “I know you well enough to recognize that you’d rather play this down, laugh about it, then flip me off.”

  I smirked. “Maybe.”

  “Yeah, tough as nails. Just use your head and be smart about this.”

  “I’m not going to break down and cry about it.”

  He eased his grip and leaned back to study my face. His hand came up and gently held me. “I know. And I like that about you. You’d probably look a bear in the face and laugh. But just play this one safe. If something happened to you, no one would have to worry about me finding a bar. They would have to worry about me finding a gun. When I say I would go to prison, I mean it. I’ll kill every last fucker on the planet that puts you in danger.”

  “Cade,” I whispered, searching his stormy, furious eyes.

  “Yeah, I think you get it now.”

  After a moment I said, “We have to meet Mick.”

  “Yeah, I know, pretty girl. But just remember what I said.”

  I nodded as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips met mine gently, exploring and telling me without words that he valued me. It made me feel wanted. Not in a sexual sense, but as a person that mattered to another human being that had also seen his fair share of horrible things in life. I wasn’t in his arms due to him wanting something from me. He respected me and cared for me, that's why I was there.

  He leaned back and gazed at me for a moment, his eyes traveling across my face.

  “Two choices.”

  “Hmm?”

  “We come back here afterward, or we go to my place. I’ll let you decide. Here, we kiss and lights out. My place, the lights stay on for a while.”

  My body tingled and instantly heated from the thought of what he meant. It was going to be a long meeting trying not to think about it, or him.

  Cade, with the lights on, or Cade with a kiss goodnight. Choices, choices.

  Chapter Eleven

  When we pulled up in front of a nondescript building in the middle of nowhere, I was a little concerned.

  Not about Cade. It wasn’t like he planned on killing me. Yet. Although, if I made any jokes about death or killing out loud he would probably try to strangle me. No more treating this lightly. Got it.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t care what was happening here, I was just keeping my fears on lockdown. Trying to deal with what was in front of me, instead of getting freaked out and running. Cade was here. Mick seemed competent, despite what Cade said. Maybe a little detached, but he was working. Everything was going to get handled.

  Having faith in other people wasn’t my strongest trait, but I trusted Cade and his friends. Hell, they'd managed to handle Liv’s issues, and she’d had a bizarre experience with a psycho ex-boyfriend. Not exactly a serial killer, but from what the girls told me, all the guys had skills to deal with dangerous situations.

  The building we pulled up in fro
nt of reminded me of an abandoned warehouse. Overgrown weeds in the lot, missing bricks, blacked out windows, and a few graffiti symbols that I couldn’t read in the dark. Just the type of building that a pack of teenagers would dare each other to break into on a Saturday night, since it was in the middle of two corn fields, on a dirt road with absolutely no lighting.

  I knew from personal experience that this was the type of stuff that happened in Bakersville. So, pulling up in front of this kind of building was a little strange.

  After we parked, we sat there for a moment. Cade hadn’t turned the car off, so I looked over at him to see what the issue was.

  “Cade?” I asked.

  “I hate to say this, but I’ve been dreading this for months.”

  “What? Facing them?”

  He sighed, as he peered through the front window. “Asking for forgiveness. It’s something that’s honestly made me nervous. It’s hard for me to admit. As a man, I know it shouldn’t matter one way or the other. Life is life. And knowing that my actions prevented Holden from facing this shit should be easy for me to justify in my fucking head.”

  “You don’t want to lose them, that's the main reason I think you're so worried. Just like they didn’t want to lose you. All of you are family basically. The one that you chose. The thing is, they didn’t lose you, and if they can’t forgive you for this, then they’re not worth apologizing to in the first place.”

  I slid my hand over his leg, and he immediately grabbed it. With a squeeze, he brought it to his lips and gave me a small kiss.

  It made sense now, the loyalty of this man to the men he chose to have around him. He’d transitioned from a life of abuse and degradation to one filled with purpose when he found them. Family didn’t mean the blood that flowed through his veins, but the comradery of men, who like him, had served a purpose beyond what an ordinary person may have felt a compulsion for. His family, the people he felt the most for, sacrificed a life for, meant everything to him. It was humbling.

  My troubles seemed like bumps in a long road that continually went in a straight line. One that I’d endured but had never changed out of love for someone else. And it made me wonder if I’d ever really experienced true love.

  My dreams over the last few days clutched to the hope that I could change our fate, and yet shied away from the possibility considering my past choices. Was it possible to find a future with this man, if I hadn’t loved myself enough to change the way I connected with men that all seemed to have the same traits? Abusers, cheaters. I deserved more. But even knowing this, I fell into patterns that would never lift my life up.

  “This is your family, Cade. I haven’t always been good at seeing the value of mine in the last few years like I did as a child. But I do know that had I chosen to go home after what happened in Lakefield with my ex, my dad would have forgiven me. That’s called love, and I think your friends definitely have that for you.”

  He chuckled. “You didn’t die on your family, though. Or fake it.”

  I nodded. “True. But I think once they hear what happened and your side of things, they’ll at least understand. You can’t ask them not to be angry, but you can ask them to listen. And if they won’t, then they’re assholes and we’ll leave.”

  He met my eyes finally. “Have you forgiven me yet?”

  Good question, and one I was still trying to figure out. Everything was happening so fast it was hard to know what I should feel, versus what I did feel. Anger, not really anymore. Maybe a small part of me still wanted to yell at him, but it would have been pointless. What happened was over and there was no way to change it.

  But forgiveness? It seemed to me that involved wrongdoing. In this case, he’d done the wrong thing for the right reasons. The problem was trust. One stupidly noble action had bruised, not broken, that for me.

  He was studying my face as if my answer was vital. Like so many other questions and answers we'd exchanged. Each seemed to walk on the edge of disaster or relief.

  “I’m not sure forgiveness would be the right term. I’m just trying to see how this fits now. Between what I thought was going to happen and now what could happen. There’s a huge difference.”

  He smirked. “Good enough. And just for the record, I can wait. But eventually you and I are going to make this happen.”

  When we exited the car, he took my hand as we headed to the industrial set of double doors. As soon as Cade pulled one open for me, we were met with the sounds of several men yelling.

  “What the fuck?” Cade said.

  Entering the building I took note of several things that were happening at once. First, Brock had Mick pushed up against one of the walls, in what looked like an office. The interior was white, with a meeting table in the center of the room. It wasn’t decorated with anything, and had several whiteboards up on the walls, with someone’s scrawled handwriting covering the surface of at least two of the boards.

  What lay beyond the office, was a mystery. It seemed too small of a room to take up an entire building. But there were no other entrances, or exits, and no windows. In fact, it looked like an office you might see in a business complex or corporate office. Very normal, but also clearly not the only thing that the building had in it.

  Aiden was sitting at the table, hands steepled, with an extremely thoughtful expression on his face. Odd, since his friend was in a fight, five feet from him on his right. Logan was walking toward Mick and Brock, trying to shout over Brock’s furious ranting. Holden was yelling from the other side of the room in anger, while a man that I knew as Jake, was trying to talk to him. Jake was trying to restrain Holden with a hand to his chest but looked like he was going to lose the battle any moment.

  When we walked in, shutting the door behind us, all eyes turned in our direction and the volume completely dropped.

  There was a frozen moment that was suspended in time before all of them moved at once. Holden shook Jake off, and started for Cade, looking angrier than ever. Logan turned and changed directions toward me. Brock, punched Mick in the face, and Aiden still sat at the table, but leaned forward, giving the man standing behind me a hard look. His jaw clenched, he blinked, then hung his head.

  Cade moved me toward Logan, as Holden approached on our other side. Logan reached out and grabbed me, just as I heard something hard collide with something, or someone behind me.

  When I turned around, Cade was rubbing his jaw, then gave Holden a nod. He punched Holden in the chest once, but without much force, then grabbed him for a hug. It was such an odd greeting among friends, that I knew I would never forget it. Cade slapped Holden on the back a few times, then they parted, just staring at each other.

  “Fuck, man. Missed you,” Holden grunted.

  “Same,” Cade replied.

  Brock brushed past us, and just went straight for a hug, without all the punching. When he stepped back, he just shook his head.

  “Fucker.”

  Cade chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

  Brock shrugged it off, like the last few months didn’t matter, and turned around to Logan. He gave him an annoyed look, then took a seat at the table in front of a laptop. Holden and Jake sat down beside him, after Cade shook Jake’s hand.

  Logan led me to a chair, then turned toward Mick, who was clearly furious, and was staring daggers at Brock.

  “You okay?” Logan asked.

  “Of course,” Mick replied, and took a seat.

  Cade made his way over to Aiden, who was now standing beside the table. They stared at each other for a moment before Aiden gripped Cade’s shoulders and gave him a relieved look.

  “Welcome home, brother,” Aiden said. “Don’t ever do that shit again.”

  Cade nodded in silent acknowledgement, but I could tell from his eyes, that he was overwhelmed to be reunited with the family he valued. The one he’d sacrificed for, and the one he would've done anything for to keep safe.

  After a moment, he joined me at the table after giving Logan a tight hug as
well.

  Mick cleared his throat. He gave Brock a dark glare, then swept the room with his eyes before turning to Cade. “Okay, now that everyone's been briefed on what happened, does anyone have any questions at this point?”

  “Glad you asked,” Brock said, in a deceptively pleasant voice. The look on his face was anything but. “You said, that the main reason we were kept out of the loop, was because of me. Is that out of rivalry, or are you just that big of an asshole?”

  “Brock,” Aiden growled.

  Mick held up his hand. “Fair question, and now that you’ve decided to use your words rather than throwing a childish fit, I guess we can address that, asshole. First, I don’t want any of you here.”

  Holden mumbled under his breath but was too far away for me to hear what he said.

  “Cade has taken it upon himself to insert you into a criminal investigation and that's the only reason you're here. One that you’re not qualified to handle. None of you are employed by the Federal Bureau in the behavioral science division. You’ve managed to handle a lot of shit shows over the last couple of years, but you’re not employed by the government anymore.”

  Brock opened his mouth and started to speak but Mick cut him off. “I don’t give a fuck who you’re still doing side work for or with. You go talk to your fucking handler and I’ll go talk to the Justice Department. Then we can have a nice sit down with a few marshals, the Attorney General, and your real boss at the CIA.”

  My gaze turned toward Brock to see what he would say, but he just rolled his eyes and started typing on his computer. None of the other guys said anything, and none of them acted like this was news.

  “Anyone else?” Mick asked, sweeping his eyes across the room.

  Aiden cleared his throat. “I’m aware that our presence here may hinder your investigation if we were to interfere. That’s not something we want to do in any way. However, it’s my understanding that if Suzanne is reluctant to help, she does have the right to employ a private security firm for her safety.”

  Mick tilted his head. “So, we’re agreed that any interference at this point could jeopardize an ongoing investigation. Not to mention destroy chain of evidence, degrade witness testimony, and make it nearly fucking impossible to put the guy behind bars.”