Dutch is tense and quiet on the drive back to my neighborhood. He doesn’t bring up what happened last night at all. I feel the distance, but I don’t breach it. A part of me is grateful that he seems to be pulling back. I don’t know how I would have handled it if he’d been all over me.
Last night already broke something.
Some boundary.
Some wall.
Some defense between my life and his.
I need to assess the damage and build back what was there before so I don’t fall even deeper than I already am. Because what happens when I really give up the fight?
Marriage. Graduation.
And then what?
What does my future look like with Dutch Cross in it?
The thought frightens me.
I can’t give up control. I just can’t.
Vi gets into the car. She’s brimming with questions and smiles until she sees both our faces. Her mouth snaps shut and she melts into the backseat, not saying a word.
“Vi, let’s go,” I mumble when Dutch slows his car in front of my apartment building.
Vi wiggles through the space between the front seats instead. “I told Shanae about the amusement park. She didn’t believe me when I told her you rented the entire place.”
Her innocent words seem to spark him from his daze.
Dutch glances over his shoulder. “We’ll do it again soon. You can bring your friends next time.”
“No way!” Vi’s eyes light up.
I stiffen. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Who says I can’t keep it?” Dutch’s eyes take me in, wrecking me, tearing me to shreds without any effort. I’m already falling for you. I can’t let my sister take the same path.
The air turns tense.
Vi scrambles out of the car, not sticking around for the aftermath.
I grip the car handle too. The last place I want to be right now is here in this car with him, trapped in the memories of what he did to my body. What I did to his.
Space. It’s the only way I can recover from Dutch Cross.
“Cadey,” he says in that way of his.
I stop.
“I’m not going to let you run this time.”
“I’m not running. I’m going home.”
His amber eyes meet mine and he cracks a smile that doesn’t quite land. “Home. Right.”
I don’t understand that look. I don’t understand the worry creeping into his expression.
“Is something wrong?”
He sidesteps the question. “I’ll send someone with breakfast.” He smirks. “Don’t worry. It won’t be pancakes.”
“I don’t need you to do that.”
“You burned a lot of calories last night.”
“Jerk.”
“I want to.” His voice is smooth and low. “I want nothing more than to take care of you and Vi.”
My heart slams against my ribs.
I turn away from him, crack the door open and hop out.
The car drives off and I stare at it as it rounds the corner. I can’t decide if I just won that argument or if I lost tragically.
My phone buzzes.
Jarod Cross: I’m waiting for an update, Miss Cooper.
I squeeze my eyes shut and blow out a shaky breath. I’m starting to think that getting involved with these Cross men was my biggest damn mistake.
DUTCH
The coffee shop where Tina asks me to meet is in an even worse side of town than Cadey’s apartment.
I can see the bullet holes and shattered windows covered with garbage bags and duct tape long before I park in front of the poorly maintained building. Graffiti lines the outside walls and it’s hard to believe this is a functioning store.
I stalk forward, pushing the door aside and bending slightly to fit through. I’m surprised when I step into a fully functioning dive bar. There are skull decorations. Mismatched scone lights, probably won from a garage sale or fished out of a dump. People with shifty eyes, tattoos and motorcycle leather.
I’m clearly younger than them, but no one bats an eye when I stalk past the tables. Guess my tattoos and jacket help me blend right in.
I search the room, my eyes settling on the one and only woman who reminds me of Cadence. She’s sitting all the way at the back with dark hair past her shoulders, a tank top and jeans.
The family resemblance is unmistakable.
She smiles when I sit across from her. Up close, the makeup starts to crack and the lines etched into her skin are clearer. She’s probably around mom’s age, but something about the way she carries herself makes her look much older. Or maybe it’s that she seems more weary. Traumatized.
She reaches out to me and covers my hand. Her smile gets wider. “Dutch.”
“Mrs. Cooper.”
“Call me Tina. Please.” She laughs. It’s a hoarse, cackling sound.
I glance down and spot the needle marks on her skin. I’ve seen those marks before. You don’t lift the curtain behind fame as many times as I do without spotting people like her. The people who use coke, liquor, whatever drug they can find to numb the pain.
No wonder you find it so hard to trust, Cadey.
I keep my expression blank. “You said this was about Cadence.”
“It is.” Tina folds her arms over her chest and studies me.
I frown.
Finally, she speaks. “I don’t get it. What would make a boy like you put a ring on her finger?”
My shoulders stiffen.
“She’s not that pretty.” Tina shrugs and reaches for a cigarette on the table. “She’s unbelievably uptight. And I’m sure it took a long time before she put out, if I know my daughter.”
“Get to your point.” My voice is a harsh clip. She’s insulting Cadence to my face and the only reason I’m not acting on my fury is because she’s Cadence’s mother.
One corner of her lips curl up. “You should be careful about that, boy. When you love someone that much, when you’re obvious about it, people can use it to hurt you.”
I slide my eyes over her, unimpressed. “I thought people who came from the dead would have better advice.”
She laughs again, but this time her eyes are sharp.
I plant both hands on the table, ready to get up and leave. This woman stole Cadey’s ring. She made Cadey cry.
I don’t need to entertain someone who has a clear disdain for the woman who belongs to me.
“Might want to sit down.”
“Why should I?”
“I’ve got evidence on your daddy,” she says.
I freeze, already halfway out of my seat. My head turns back to take her in.
“Jarod Cross has been dabbling in the good ole drug trade.”
Eyes aflame, I stare at Tina. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to know what would make a woman die when she’s alive and healthy? Seeing things she has no business seeing.”
“Dad is dealing?” I lean forward.
Smoke billows from her thin lips. “I saw Jarod Cross playing one night, before he blew up. Damn near made my knees weak the moment he opened his mouth. I swore I’d have his babies.” She laughs again and looks at me with a hint of regret. “Turns out some other woman had his babies instead.”
She’s talking in circles, but I don’t have the time or the patience.
“What did you see?” I growl.
Unfortunately, my threats don’t scare her. She’s confident. Unperturbed. She knows I wouldn’t hurt her because I won’t hurt anyone associated with Cadey.
It makes her cocky.
Tina chugs on her cigarette again. “Maybe that’s why I’m angry.” Her eyes climb to the ceiling. “I couldn’t get Jarod Cross, but my daughter is screwing his son. That’s irony if I’ve ever heard it. My daughter…” Her eyes burn into mine, “becoming a whore for the Cross boys.”
I slam my hand on the table, my placid expression twisted into a threatening one.
“I don’t care if you’re her mother. Don’t you ever talk about her like that. You hear me? I will freaking end you and it won’t be difficult.” I grip the edges of the table and lean over. “Because all it takes is one call, one picture of you going about your business, and plenty of people will have questions.” My eyes narrow. “And I’m not talking about the cops.”
She flicks her gaze over me, her eyebrows tightening. From the tremble of her lips, I can tell the threat landed where it was supposed to.
“She got it from you,” Tina whispers as if she just stumbled on a secret.
I glare at her.
“You’re Cadey’s backbone.” She smirks again and crushes the butt of her cigarette into the ash tray near her left hand. “Forty-Sixth and third, Hamshire Street. Eleven o’clock.”
I stand straight, not batting an eye.
“The evidence against your father. You’ll find it there.”
