by Lissa Kasey
And that was all it took. I burst into tears and threw myself into his arms. He held me, careful not to dislodge Newt, and just rocked while whispering soft words. After a few minutes, I wiped my eyes and pulled away to pack up the suitcase. I felt stupid, useless, and weak. Without him I’d come unglued, and with him back I was suddenly expecting him to make life perfect again, even though he had a lot of adjusting and healing to do. It wasn’t fair.
I watched him push himself to his feet. He leaned over to let Newt jump up on his shoulders. He was so calm. So unfazed by the loss of his leg and his long imprisonment. I didn’t want to think of what they’d done to him, said to him, and tried to convince him of, but it wasn’t my place to decide that, was it?
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him quietly.
He studied me for a moment, but his expression was veiled. Then he hobbled to the door, leaning heavily on the large cane, and opened it. “Let’s go home, babe. I can’t fucking wait to be home.” And his words were genuine. Home was my house. Our house. Six months ago it had felt like a trap of bad memories and bad debt. Now it was safety, warmth, and love. Even after Donovan’s invasion and attack.
I had to help him down the stairs. We were parked on the street in front of the garage with the lights flashing on the bus. I wondered briefly how he’d make it up all the stairs inside the house. Maybe we should move to his room permanently? He had the newly renovated bathroom across the hall, and if we ever cleaned and finished the attached sitting room, it would be bigger than my space upstairs. At least that was on the second floor instead of three floors up.
In the kitchen Will and Ty were talking as they never did. Tomas was opening cupboards and the fridge, making notes on his phone. Jacob and his guards were nowhere to be seen, but maybe they were still outside or on the bus somewhere. I didn’t think it was that large, but what did I know? Maybe that bus had secret compartments for rock stars to hide in. Jacob’s old bus had had plenty of cubbies, hidden nooks, and bad memories.
Our clean laundry sat in two baskets in the living room, dry cleaner bags draped on top. My suitcase sat beside it. Newt’s litter box had been returned to the downstairs bathroom.
I just wanted everyone to leave.
“I’ll have a nurse here by midday tomorrow,” Ty told me.
I blinked at him in confusion. “What? Why?”
His eyes flicked to Kade.
“He lost part of his leg. He’s not in a coma,” I protested. “I can give him whatever he needs.”
“It’s just for a while, to help him get used to getting around. And they’ll help whenever you get a migraine.”
“I’ll get groceries for you,” Tomas spoke up.
But I didn’t want any of that, and Kade just looked tired. “I’ll order groceries online.”
“I’ll also schedule a maid to come in a couple times a week,” Ty said.
“We don’t need a maid. We don’t need a nurse. We don’t need anyone to get our groceries for us.”
“Ollie, be reasonable,” Will said.
I glared at him. I was being reasonable. They were the ones who were treating us like we were made of glass. “Out. Everybody out.” It was my fault, I realized. I’d been so self-absorbed in my own brokenness that I’d let them take control and allowed them to treat me like I was a child.
Will and Ty began to protest, but I held the front door open for them.
“I appreciate all your help, but you need to leave before I start screaming bloody murder.”
“Ollie…,” Tomas started.
I held up my hand. “You’re off with pay for the rest of the week. We will reopen Monday as usual. I will be in the office at nine sharp. Thank you.”
I waved a hand at him to leave. His eyes were wide, but he walked out, unlike Ty and Will, who were blustering in typical alpha-male fashion. Kade was silent behind me, but I knew he was tired and not in the mood to debate anyone.
“Out.” I pointed them to the door. “And if you send maids or nurses to my door, expect them to be turned away.” Finally they walked out, both glaring at me with arms crossed over their chests. “Thank you, and good day.” I closed the door in their faces and locked it.
I set the alarm and turned back to Kade, who was slumped on the couch, staring at me. “What?” I asked.
He just smiled.
“You need more rest,” I told him.
“I feel like all I’ve been doing is resting. I don’t understand why I’m still so damn tired.”
We were totally on the same page for that. “Do you want me to help you lie down?”
“No. Not yet.”
I stalked to the kitchen to look in the fridge. As expected, there was no food. Just some condiments and an ancient jug of almond milk. “I need to order some groceries.”
“We can go grocery shopping,” Kade suggested.
I looked at him, worn out and slumped like he just didn’t have the energy to sit up straight. But his expression was hopeful. It made sense, didn’t it? He’d spent six weeks hidden away from the world, locked in a room, and fed God knew what.
“You feeling up for that?” I asked. “I’d have to drive.”
He flinched, and I smiled.
The keys to my Bug were on the counter, and the bus was gone, but I figured Kade’s SUV would be more comfortable for him. “Do you want one of your other canes?”
He looked at the metal one they’d given him. “I think once we get there, maybe we can get a chair?” He flushed at the idea, like it didn’t exactly appeal, but he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to walk around.
“Sure.” I leaned down to kiss him, and he let me, closing his eyes to savor the feel of my lips against his.
“Cat stays here,” he said, glancing back at Newt, who sat on the back of the couch.
I snorted. “This time.”
Chapter Nine
THE TRIP to the grocery store was fun. Kade actually used one of those electric carts to move around. His smile was huge as he maneuvered around displays and other shoppers like a little kid driving his first go-kart. And he’d only crashed twice, bumping into a pallet of boxed fruit and the corner of a shelf display. We filled a cart full of fruit, vegetables, and a ridiculous amount of fresh fish. Kade wanted to grill, and I would have bought him steak if he’d so much as looked at them longingly, but he was happy with the fish.
There was a prepared food area of the store that offered everything from fresh, hot pizza, to soup and salad, to sushi. We stopped for sushi and filled up a couple boxes. By the time we got to the checkout, Kade was really drooping. I paid for everything and tipped the bagger, asking for help to get everything loaded into the car. Kade said he could help, but we had probably fifteen bags of food, so I helped him into the SUV and went to meet the bagger at the curb. I shoved a box of sushi and chopsticks into Kade’s hands so he could eat. Once the vehicle was loaded, I drove us home.
I frowned at an older model tan sedan that seemed to be following us before it turned and disappeared down a side street. I let out a sigh, forcing myself to stop gripping the steering wheel like it was a lifeline. There was no reason to think someone was still after Kade. We had the law behind us, court orders. He was safe. He had to be.
Kade fell asleep during the short drive, but he’d finished the entire container of sushi. I pulled into the garage, turned off the car, and hit the button to close the door. I figured I’d let Kade sleep while I unloaded. It was weird to find Jacob in my kitchen, and he was still oddly silent. Only after my third trip inside with bags did he get out of the chair and follow me to the SUV to grab stuff.
Neither of us said anything, but once everything was inside, I returned to the car to coax Kade out. He was only half-coherent as we toddled into the house, him using me for more support than the cane.
“Do you need help?” Jacob asked quietly.
I shook my head and guided Kade toward the stairs for our slow and somewhat torturous ascent.
“Yo
ur room,” Kade mumbled. I followed his eyes up and realized to him the stairs likely looked as daunting as Mount Everest.
“You sure?”
“Yes. Your space. Our space. I think it will help if I have nightmares. Sorry I’m so tired.”
“Don’t apologize.” I helped him up the first flight, where we had to stop so he could rest. The next two flights were much the same, but by the time we got to the top and my room, he was out of breath and barely upright. I practically carried him to the bed.
“Sorry,” he grumbled again as I laid him down on the bed and pulled off his shoe.
“Clothes off or on?” I pulled the blankets aside so he could get under them.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, his eyes shutting again.
I tugged his pants down and peeled his shirt off. He was fast asleep by the time I covered him with the blanket. For a minute I debated on leaving or not, but I had a kitchen full of groceries to put away and couldn’t expect Jacob to do that. So I made my way downstairs but left the bathroom light on in my room just in case Kade woke up disoriented.
“I’m surprised you’re still here,” I told Jacob. He was unpacking the bags and putting things in the fridge or cupboards.
“Still no place to go. If you really want me gone, I can leave.” But the clench of his hands as he folded up one of the paper bags told me he didn’t want to.
“Would it help if I said I didn’t blame you?”
He glanced my way. “That’s a lie.”
I sighed. It was sort of, but my opinions weren’t always rational. “I’m trying not to blame you. I know it’s not your fault. I just can’t help if sometimes my brain runs away with me. But he’s home now. You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”
“I’m trying not to,” he echoed me.
We both moved around the kitchen for a few minutes in silence. Somehow I’d become used to him, and we moved in sync. It wasn’t anything romantic or sexual, but it was certainly not casual. “We can’t be anything,” I blurted.
He stopped in the process of putting baking supplies in the cupboard and looked at me. “Anything? Like what? We can’t be hippies or rock stars or rainbows?”
“Lovers.”
“No, Ollie. I don’t want to be your lover. I just want to be your friend. You have a couple of those, some are even ex-lovers.” He returned to arranging flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda. Kade had expressed interest in making homemade cookies while we were at the grocery store, so I’d followed the instructions on the back of a bag of chocolate chips and bought all the supplies.
“An ex-lover who treats me like I’m five,” I snipped, still irritated with Ty. Will had always treated me that way, but Ty hadn’t. I didn’t know why he’d started now.
“Only because you let him.”
“You think I want that?”
“I think most of the time you just don’t care enough to see what they are doing. When Kade was here and whole, you were strong and independent. The two of you sort of move like planets on the same path around the sun. They think he’s the one who makes you that way, but I think when you’re happy, that’s just how you are.” He sighed. “I never made you that happy. I messed with your head. I was an asshole. My therapist says it was a self-defense mechanism on my part, but that doesn’t make it right. And while Ty and Will want you to be safe and happy, that doesn’t give them the right to take over your life. Hell, the whole reason you and Ty broke up was because he wanted to control your life. He had you calling to check in all the time. Did you forget that?”
I stared at him, but he kept moving until all the bags were empty, groceries put away, and kitchen set back to order.
“You attract that type of man: the alpha male with a need to protect. But you’re no simpering flower.” He paused, then said, “Most of the time. They think Nathan’s death broke you.”
And it did. Shattered me into a million pieces that sometimes still cut if I turned the wrong way.
“But I think you’re stronger than that. Hurt, yes. Terrified when Kade was taken, but strong. Stop letting other people tell you what to do.” He let out a long breath like he was preparing to be attacked. “You let Nathan control you. Everything you did. The school you went to, the modeling gigs you worked. Who you dated. Now Ty and Will are trying to do the same thing. And you let them. Kade nudges you in the right direction, but does he ever outright demand you do something? Treat you like a child?” Jacob met my eyes and nodded knowingly. “He doesn’t. Ever wonder why that is?”
“He loves me,” I whispered.
“O, I love you.”
I took a step backward.
He sighed again. “Not like that. But it’s my fault. Not all my fault, but I share the blame. Love does not equal control. You don’t have to give up everything you want and are, just for someone to love you. You get that, right? Kade has proven that to you, right?”
“Yes.” Most days. The time without him had been hard, and I’d fallen into old habits. Self-destruction that made the people who loved me assume I couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of myself. “I can’t be codependent anymore.”
“You can. That’s part of the partnership you have with Kade. But it has to be on your terms, not theirs. You just have to learn when to say no.” He leaned against the counter and waved at the kitchen. “Like this. If you don’t want me here, tell me to go. I’ll find a hotel or something.”
“You love it here,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it’s the first time in my life I’ve felt safe and at home. Hell, normal, even with your crazy cat. But I don’t want to make you unhappy or force myself into your life. So say the word and I go. I’ll deal. I’ve been doing that my whole life.”
I thought about it for a few minutes. He’d moved into the spare room, the one filled with Nathan’s stuff, not long after Kade vanished. He really only used the bed and had a suitcase tucked off to the side. All of the boxes had been stacked to leave a path. It couldn’t be that comfortable for him living in the space the size of a closet with the ghost of my dead brother. But he never complained. He made himself scarce when I was in a mood or coaxed me to take it easy if I wasn’t feeling well. Most of the time he was like an unheard from roommate, though he often brought me food or could be found sprawled on the couch in the living room with the cat on his lap, watching anime.
“I’m not going to kick you out,” I finally told him. “But I don’t know how I feel about you staying here yet. I don’t think it can be permanent.”
He nodded. “Eventually I’ll have to go back to work. I’m still a rock star, you know. I travel the world singing for the masses.”
I frowned at his too-baggy sweatpants and Coca-Cola T-shirt that was so threadbare, his skin showed through in places. “Um-hum.”
He grinned. “I can still earn my keep. I’m actually pretty good at making cookies.”
“Kade wanted some, but he’s sleeping now. At least I got some food in him on the way home.”
“And you?” Jacob asked. “Did you eat?”
I hadn’t, and I wasn’t hungry. All the progress I’d made before Kade had been taken was gone. How often had my therapist warned me that adversity could make me backslide? And what had I done at the first sign of trouble, but completely fallen apart. “I am broken,” I said quietly.
Jacob laughed. “Aren’t we all?” He pulled the smallest box of sushi and a small container of precut veggies out of the fridge and shoved them into my hands. “Eat a bit, then go upstairs and nap with Kade. It’s barely after four. Plenty of time for sleep.” He looked at me sideways. “How’s your head?”
“It’s fine.” And wasn’t that odd, that after almost daily headaches for over a month, I get Kade back and don’t have one?
He nodded like affirming some unshared thought.
I took the sushi to the table and surprisingly finished the entire small box and the veggies. It was only six large pieces, but it tasted amazing. I was drooping by the time I finishe
d. Probably too tired from all the erratic sleep I’d been getting. Curling up beside Kade in my own bed sounded amazing.
Chapter Ten
KADE’S GRUMBLING snarls woke me out of a light nap. I blinked up at the ceiling and tried to remember where I was. My room, with all the windows shrouded in heavy blackout curtains. Some light peeked through the edges so I knew it was still daytime. A glance at the clock said it was just after seven. Long nap.
“Don’t…,” Kade said.
I rolled over to look at him. Normally we slept spooned, but he’d curled around himself on the bed, almost in a fetal position. His eyes were closed and his brow sweaty. I touched his face, and he flinched.
“Kade?” I called, fear settling into the pit of my stomach.
He muttered something else I couldn’t make out but sounded angry and upset. It was chillingly familiar.
I carefully climbed out of bed and made my way to the light switch for the rarely used overhead lamp. The bedroom flooded with light when I flicked the switch. He still didn’t open his eyes or stop muttering. My heart clenched and lungs tightened. I went to the bathroom door and slammed it as hard as I could.
The noise was startling, even to me, like a gunshot in the dark might have been. Kade bolted upright, swinging his fists as I feared he would. Defensive, disoriented, and lost in a nightmare I probably didn’t want him to recall out loud.
After a minute his fists lowered, and he blinked away the confusion along with tears from too much light, staring at me as I huddled near the doorway. “Did I hurt you?”
Not physically. No, it was just the familiar terror of PTSD nightmares that had my head in a tailspin.
“No,” I told him.
He looked down at his hands, which were still clenched in his lap. “I’ve never done that before?” It was a question both for me and himself, it seemed.
“Not with me.” I should have asked, prodded about the dream. But it was a paralyzing fear for more than one reason. While fists could cause temporary pain, it was the unseen mental anguish that had lasting effects.