Once the alarm is disarmed and the front door locked, I glance around the house. Everything is exactly where I left it…exactly where it's been for most of my life. Aside from replacing the television when it went out and the sofa when a piece of wire started poking through and jabbing me when I sat down, I've changed nothing. Pictures of me, my mom, and Titan are scattered around shelves and hanging on the walls. Seeing them always makes my heart ache, but they also made me feel close to Titan and mom over the years…made me feel less alone.
I miss them so much.
Tears well in my eyes as my gaze tracks slowly over each photograph. A few tears slip down my cheeks, but I don't try to fight them off. I didn't cry for ten years. Even when we buried them, I didn't cry. I refused to let myself feel anything because I knew I wouldn't make it through the day if I acknowledged the abyss of grief waiting to swallow me whole. I've cried a lot since Cade came back into my life. Seeing him ripped off the blinders, allowing that grief and pain to start slipping out between cracks in the walls I erected.
For once, I don't mind them. They don't make me feel weak. They make me feel human.
"I saw Cade the day before yesterday," I tell Dr. Jenner early on Friday morning, curling my feet up under me in the oversized armchair in her office. The room seems less like a doctor's office and more like someone's living room. The walls are a dark wood. She doesn't have a desk, but sits in a turquoise armchair that matches mine. A white rug rests on the hardwood floor, giving the place a soft, welcoming feel. The only art on the wall is a colorful abstract painting of a black tree on a vivid backdrop. It's gorgeous.
"How did that go?" Dr. Jenner asks. Like me, she's got her feet curled up in the chair beneath her, her skirt tucked primly around her legs. With her grayish-blonde hair up in a ponytail and a pair of chunky glasses on her face, she reminds me more of a soccer mom than a psychiatrist. Her smile is kind and inviting, the crow's feet around her eyes making it apparent that she smiles a lot.
I genuinely like her. She's not judgmental and doesn't make me feel like crap no matter what awful thoughts and feelings I confess to her. She just listens quietly, letting me purge myself of all the painful things that have been brewing for far too long.
"I'm not sure," I confess, rubbing a finger across the soft fabric of the chair. "We were both getting home at the same time. He didn't say anything to me. He seemed tired, like he hasn't been sleeping."
"Have you been sleeping?"
"A little. Better since I got home." I thought being home would be harder, but it's honestly been more comforting than anything. "I like knowing he's close to me," I whisper. "Even if he's next door, I like knowing he's there."
"He hasn't been there in a long time."
I nod.
"You said he's a DEA agent. That must be tough for him."
"I think so. Tougher than he likes to admit." I bite my lip and glance up at her to find her watching me, her expression open. "He does it to punish himself for what happened to Titan and my mom."
"Maybe," she agrees and then cocks her head to the side. "Do you think it's possible he does it for another reason too?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, from what you've told me about him, he sounds like someone who cares a lot about what happens to people. He's been taking care of others his entire life. Do you think it's possible that his job isn't solely about punishing himself, but about protecting people too? He lost someone important to him. I just wonder if part of the reason he does what he does is to keep anyone else from going through the same thing."
"I've never thought about it that way," I admit, frowning. "I think you're right though. He says he isn't a hero, that he's a monster, but I think he became a cop to help people. After Titan and my mom…after they died…" Saying that out loud still hurts. "He was so angry. A detective came by one day and Cade snapped on him. He was pissed because they kept coming to ask him questions instead of looking for the guys who killed our family. He said they were too scared to go into the hood to find the killers."
"You said our family."
"Huh?"
"When you were talking about Titan and your mom, you said our family, not your family," she says like she's making an observation instead of asking a question.
"They're Cade's family too," I answer anyway because it's true. Cade has always been part of our family. He was never just the boy next door to any of us. Titan was like a brother to him, and my mom adored him. He was as much one of us as me or Titan or my mom.
Dr. Jenner smiles at me and nods her head approvingly. "Do you think the police were too scared to go into the hood?"
I snort at the way she says the word hood like it's foreign to her. She doesn't like the connotations associated with the word, doesn't like the way it divides people. But that's exactly what life is like in the hood. We're divided, seen as less than our neighbors in better communities. We're the people the rest of the world would like to forget…the ones treated more like a shameful secret than like people with hopes and dreams and feelings.
"Yeah," I say softly. "I think they were afraid. Titan was a mixed kid from the wrong side of the city. No one really cared what happened to him. They didn't want to get their hands dirty looking."
"You resent that."
"Hell yes, I resent it. My brother was an amazing person. He was funny and kind and so protective. He got mixed up with Kaleo to help me, not because he was a bad person. I hate that all they saw when they looked at him was another drug dealer in the hood. That's not who he was."
Even after Cade left, that's all LAPD saw. When they came around to ask me questions, it was clear they didn't want to be there and didn't much care about my mom or Titan. As far as they were concerned, he was part of the problem in neighborhoods like ours, and that was that. How could they seek justice when they thought it'd already been served?
Eventually, I got fed up the same way Cade did and told them not to come back anymore unless they were coming to tell me they knew who killed my family. They stopped coming after that.
About a year later, Detective Whitten came by campus to tell me that he believed the men who killed Titan and my mom were dead, and that they were closing the case. By that time, I'd already put the pieces together myself and figured out Cade had found the Crips responsible and killed them before disappearing.
"Cops are human too," Dr. Jenner reminds me. "They make mistakes and have fears just like the rest of us. It's entirely possible they were afraid to look too hard into what happened. But isn't it also possible they were doing the best they could with what they had?"
"Maybe," I say with a shrug, not convinced. Maybe they were doing the best they could. Maybe they just didn't care. At the end of the day, the results were the same. Cade took care of the problem when they couldn't or wouldn't. He's been taking care of problems every day since. In my eyes, he will always be a hero. He will always be the one who cared enough about Titan to do something when no one else would.
"It kills me that he blames himself for what happened when all he was trying to do was protect me, just like Titan was." I've thought about that a lot…about the fact that, had things gone differently, it might have been Cade who died that night. I'm sure sometimes he wishes it had been him. That kills me too. I wish we could all go back and do it over. I'd be stronger, fight harder to defend myself. I'd have listened to Cade when he told me that he didn't want me being friends with Tony. Maybe changing that one decision would have put us all on a different path…one that didn't end with my mom and Titan dying in the street.
Maybe Cade would have made the same career choice…I don't know. What I do know is that I'm proud of him, and I'm so thankful he wasn't taken from me that night too. He's still here. He's still alive. I wish like hell Titan and my mom were with us too.
"I have homework for you this weekend," Dr. Jenner announces a few minutes later. "You told me about the necklace your brother gave you for your birthday. I want you to take it out of the box in your
closet. You don't have to open it. You don't have to wear it. Just take it out of the box."
"Why?"
"Because you need to face the things that scare you," she says frankly. "And seeing that necklace scares the shit out of you."
She's not wrong about that. I hid it in my closet the day after my birthday because I couldn't look at it without hurting. And then I couldn't look at it because I felt guilty as hell knowing he was in trouble and I didn't do anything to help him.
"You need to remember that Titan didn't do what he did because of you, January. He did what he did because he loved you. You were his little sister. Your happiness meant the world to him. You can't blame yourself for him wanting to give you the world when you would have done the same thing for him."
"Okay," I whisper and lick my dry lips. For once, the little voice that usually whispers that it was my fault is silent.
"You can do this," I coach myself, staring at the box in the back corner of my closet like it might bite me. I've avoided it all weekend, but my time is up. It's Sunday night and I have to follow through on this. I promised Dr. Jenner that I would take it out of the box. That's all I have to do. Take the box down from the closet and pull out the little jewelry box.
Five minutes later, I'm still standing there, staring at the box like it's full of spiders.
I can't do it alone. I'm not ready to do it alone. But maybe…maybe….
Before I can convince myself not to do it, I pace across my bedroom and pick up my cellphone. My hands shake as I dial. My heart pounds so hard it seems louder than the ringing of the phone.
"Baby girl?" Cade says on the second ring. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
He sounds like he was sleeping, but the second I hear that deep voice, a wave of calm washes through me. My body responds. My core clenches at the sleepy, sexy sound of his voice. The tension in my muscles eases.
"I woke you up," I whisper.
"Don't give a fuck," he mumbles and shuffles around like he's sitting up. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Nothing…I…" I'm not even sure where to begin. Maybe I shouldn't have called him, but I feel stronger when he's near and I really needed to hear his voice. "I just need you to talk to me for a little while, okay?"
"You sure you're okay?" He sounds seriously worried.
"I'm working on it," I admit instead of lying to him. "I'm…I'm seeing someone."
A pained sound comes through the line, like an agonized growl.
"A therapist," I hurry to add, hating that he thinks I meant another guy. "I'm seeing a therapist. Trying to work through some of my issues." Before I lose the nerve, I hurry back to the closet and yank the box down. Juggling the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I fish around for a second before my hand closes over the little square jewelry box.
"That's good," Cade murmurs. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby girl. There are so many things I wish I could do differently. If I could bring them back for you, I would. I'd take their place in a second to give you back your family."
"They're your family too," I whisper, holding the box tightly in my hand as my chest aches. He sounds so sorrowful, so pained. "I don't want you to take their place, Cade. I never wanted that. I would never want that. I'm…I'm glad I didn't lose you too."
"January," he groans.
"I don't blame you," I whisper, thrusting the larger box back inside the closet before making my way over to the bed. I tug open the drawer on my nightstand, determined to put the necklace inside…but I don't. Instead, I sit on the bed and cross my legs before setting it in front of me. The box still looks brand new.
"Titan made his own choices, Cade. You weren't responsible for them and I don't blame you for what happened. I was hurting the day I told you it was your fault, but I didn't mean it. I wish…I wish you would have told me the truth back then. I wish you hadn't carried that weight by yourself for so long. There's a lot of stuff I wish for, but I don't wish you were dead instead of Titan."
"Fuck," Cade says, exhaling a shuddering breath.
I pull the top off the box. The little pendant is nestled inside, still as brand new as the box. It hasn't dulled or faded at all over the years. Tears spring to my eyes at the sight, but I smile too. My brother was a lot of things. Maybe I'll never fully understand what happened or why, but the one thing that never changed was how much he wanted to see me happy. How much he loved me. And how much he loved Cade.
"I miss you," I whisper, not sure if I'm talking to Titan or to Cade. Both, I think.
Cade groans wordlessly. "I miss you too, baby girl. So damn much, but I've been trying to be good and give you space. I'm about to lose my mind trying, but I am trying." He exhales another breath. "Now that I've had you in my arms again, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to sleep without you in them."
"I don't want space."
"Yeah?" His voice drops low, half hopeful question, half male growl.
"There's a lot you don't know. A lot I want to tell you," I whisper, running my finger over the engraving on the pendant in my hands. "I've been–"
A floorboard creaks in the living room.
"Cade!" I half-laugh at him. He's always been fast as hell, but that was insanely fast. "Did you seriously just run over here?"
"What?"
"I just told you like thirty seconds ago that I don't want space, and now you're in my living room," I say and laugh again.
"January, I'm not in your house," he says, his voice sharp and hard.
The fear in his voice is overwhelming. It sends my heart slamming against my ribcage as fear shoots through me.
"Cade," I whimper, suddenly terrified.
Another floorboard creaks, closer than before.
"Hide, baby girl," he orders and I can hear him moving.
"Please hurry," I beg him, jumping up from the bed and rushing toward the closet with Titan's pendant still clutched in my hand.
"I love you. I'm coming for you," Cade promises me. "Hide."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Michael
Present Day
"What's up, boss man?" I ask Ames, staring out my front window like a Stage-Five Clinger trying to catch a glimpse of January. She hasn't stuck so much as a toe outside except for the couple of hours she was gone on Friday morning. Being this close to her but not able to see her is driving me insane. Normally, I'd lose myself in work, but I can't even do that considering I'm on administrative leave until they know whether or not I'm going to be charged with murder. Needless to fucking say, I'm losing my goddamn mind.
I've scrubbed and repainted the bedroom Kaleo's boys destroyed. I sanded down the hardwood floors to get the paint off and then waxed them. I've replaced all the furniture with new shit. My ass is still jittery with pent-up energy. Even jerking off to thoughts of January riding my cock hasn't settled me down any. If anything, those fantasies only made me miss her more.
"Roman Gregory and Luke Santiago found a gun on Curtis Kaleo's property," Ames says.
A smile slides across my face, satisfaction rolling through me.
"It appears to match the one used to kill Adcock and his buddies. They're sending it off for forensic testing to confirm."
I don't bother to tell him that it'll match. He doesn't bother to ask me if I planted it. We both know it will and that I did, but we dance around that subject just like we have every other day since Hernandez scooped me up from Kaleo's and took me in for questioning. I'm pretty certain Ames knows I'm the one who killed them. For some reason, he's still fighting for my dumb ass. So is Roman.
"Kaleo always was a goddamned idiot," I mutter to Ames. The fucker thought he had me over a barrel with that receipt—which I'm pretty sure he fucking planted. But I haven't kept myself alive and on top for so long by being stupid. Before I left town all those years ago, I took Kaleo's gun and hid it in the shed behind his house, beneath years of accumulated junk I knew damn well he'd never clean up.
Still, I was starting to worry they'd never find it and I would go down
for this. I still could. I wore gloves that night and made myself as invisible as possible, but committing murder isn't exactly a risk-free scenario. And I wasn't exactly in a great headspace at the time. I could have fucked up.
Ames grunts his agreement like he knows what's up with Kaleo. Hell, at this point it wouldn't surprise me to find out he knows all the sordid details about my past. I thought I buried that shit, but apparently not deeply enough to keep nosy motherfuckers like Ames and Roman from finding out the truth.
I'm not even mad at 'em.
For whatever reason, they've both kept my secret for me. I should probably feel bad that two good cops turned a blind eye to the fact that I killed three people, but Ames and Roman are good cops. If they think I'm an all right dude…maybe I'm not as worthless as I thought.
How's that for an epiphany?
Not saying I'm a hero or a good dude or deserve to be a cop, but maybe shit isn't as black and white as I've always told myself it is. I've been thinking about that a lot the last few days, letting it percolate. I'm not sure what it leaves, but maybe one day I will be worthy of January. Probably not, but shit, it's not like that's gonna stop me from trying to deserve her anyway. I went without her for a decade. If I don't go to prison, I'm not living without her anymore.
"Unless your fingerprints are on that weapon, you'll be cleared once forensics comes back," Ames says.
"Why would my fingerprints be on that gun?" I ask, peeling back the curtains in the living room to peek out. The front of January's house is dark. I guess she's in bed for the night.
Fuck.
I want to slide between the sheets with her and then slide between those sexy little legs of hers.
Fight for You: A Second Chance Romance (A Warrior for Her Book 1) Page 27