Secrets & Submission

Something balls up in my throat, and I can’t answer him. He must see the reality in my eyes, though, because he lets out a heavy sigh. Like I’ve disappointed him.

Cade raises his eyes from his coffee. He’s not only disapproving now, not only disappointed. He’s worried about me. The instinct grows to brush it off. No one needs to worry about me. But that’s not true. I wouldn’t have survived after Quincy if it weren’t for Damon. Fuck, I don’t want to be brought back to that moment. To a place that only offers emptiness or regret. There’s nothing else but that.

In some ways, I feel like that now. Everything is fucked. The ground isn’t steady, and I need things. It feels unreasonable to want reassurance. I’m the one who’s supposed to reassure other people, not the other way around.

It’s one simple fact that gives me doubt: they could take her at any moment. There’s not a damn thing I could do. The heaviness of that reality is bitter and palpable. I have to be careful, not because of her, but because of them.

I don’t say this to my brother. I don’t say a word because I’m too damn afraid that if I say the wrong thing, he’ll convince me I shouldn’t be with Ella. He’s right, I do need her. I need her more than I’d like to admit.

He pushes his coffee cup aside and stands. “I have paperwork to do.”

My pulse flares in my neck as I flex my hands back into fists. “And Ella?”

He looks down at me, shrugging his suit jacket back into place, and he’s hovering somewhere between Cade, owner of The Firm, and Cade, my brother. There’s no way to know which version will win out. “If you want to see Ella, go to her. It will not be as an employee of this company. I can’t risk it.”

My next breath comes easy and the change in my brother’s expression tells me he knows how much relief I must feel. My hands are a breath away from shaking. I curl one into a fist on the table, and hold my coffee cup in the other. “Understandable, and I respect that decision.”

“That means you’ll no longer have the motel paid for.”

I don’t give a damn about the motel or money. “Also understandable.”

“Consider yourself on unpaid leave.”

All I can do is nod. For the first time in a long time, I want to stand up and crush him in a quick embrace. He doesn’t know what he’s given me with this. Or maybe he does. I can’t say.

Cade shifts his weight from one foot to the other, about to leave, but then he hesitates. He lets out a breath. “You need to be careful, Zander. You and Ella—you’re both in positions to be hurt badly in this. Her more than you. I don’t want this to end badly. So if you can walk away, I think you should.”

I don’t want to hug him anymore. My gratefulness shrinks until it’s a more appropriate size. “That’s your opinion.”

“It is.” He’s insistent now. Like he knew that it would piss me off to make the comment, but he had to make it anyway. Cade has never shied away from having hard conversations. Sometimes he’s taken it too far. I didn’t expect him to become a different person over this, and he hasn’t. “It is my opinion. But it’s because I don’t want to see anyone else hurt.” He turns to go. “I’ll be in contact,” he says over his shoulder.

“Anyone else” is another reference to Quincy. With his back to me, he walks out of the shop, the bell above the door chiming as he goes. Leave it to Cade to get that shot in at the last moment. It all starts with her, doesn’t it?

But no—no. I take a four-count breath, then another, and sit with the pain in my chest and the surge of guilt. Quincy didn’t die because of me. She died because some desperate bastard with a cruel streak mugged her and killed her. What’s arguable is whether I should have insisted on walking her home. I should have insisted on seeing her to a safe place, and I didn’t. I allowed her to walk away.

I’m not doing that with Ella. I didn’t drive back to the motel and head out of town. I didn’t take no for an answer when Damon tried to keep me from her. I didn’t do a damn thing until I’d spoken to her.

I want to speak to her now.

I want to do more than speak to her. I want to be back in that bedroom with the door shut and kiss her until she moans. I want to feel her body underneath mine. I want to hear the way she whispers my name in her ear.

I reach for the phone in my pocket and pull back at the last minute. That phone belongs to The Firm. There’s another one snugged beside it. Mine.

I let my mind wander to her. Her soft skin. Her pouty lips. Her wide, dark eyes. Her trust.

It takes no time at all to pull up her number. To see her name on the screen. She hasn’t messaged. I haven’t messaged her either, even though we’re both aware there’s plenty to discuss. It feels as though we’re just getting started. It’s thrilling, but in a way that’s filled with uncertainty.

Be ready for me tonight. I have a few things to work out, then I’ll be over like I promised.

There’s a slight pause,and then she replies.

Zander?

A smirk pullsmy lips up, realizing she didn’t have this number. Yes. This is my number now. Use it as often as you’d like.

I will.Not another second passes before she tells me, I miss you.

It’shard to read her tone from a text message, but I imagine it’s soft. Open. She’s telling me something in honesty. In more of that trust I’ve come to crave.

I missed her too.