When he got home, he had picked me up from the store on his bike, taking me to his place. We were all over each other as soon as we got in the door, much like last time, but this time, he fucked me against the door. It was ah-ma-zing. He then carried me to his room, slowly took off my clothes, then made love to me. That brought me to now. Lying on his rumpled bed, naked, staring at the ceiling, feeling content. I felt Cade settle in beside me, pulling me to his side. I instantly snuggled into the crook of his shoulder, stroking his tats.
“Baby.”
“Hmmm,” I half answered, distracted by his tattoos and his body.
“We gotta talk.”
Still distracted, I muttered, “Okay.”
“You’re going to tell me what happened to you,” he spoke gruffly as if he expected something horrible.
I turned to stone. I knew he felt it because he started to stroke my back gently.
“What happened to put that fear behind your eyes? What makes you flat out panic when the boys get too close? What made you say what you said on the beach that day? What gave you the scars?” He lightly traced the scar my cheek, the evidence of a ring tearing open my face, then my stomach, where the doctors opened me up because I was bleeding internally.
I felt it curling up in my belly, the poison of the memories that would taint what we had. I couldn’t have my happiness for a second without this eating at me, so much so that Cade noticed and he wasn’t going to give up until he knew the ugly truth. Then he probably wouldn’t want me. Because I was broken, scarred, dirty.
His jaw was hard, but his gaze was tender. I knew he felt anger, without even knowing what actually happened he was already pissed off.
“Cade,” I whispered brokenly. “You don’t want to know.”
“Gwen, I do,” he said firmly. “I need to know so I can start fixing you.” His grey eyes fixed on me, determined.
I felt the blow in my stomach. Fix me? Then he knew I was broken. If he knew that there was no hope for me anyway, I knew he wouldn’t let this go. I took a deep breath, preparing. I looked at his face, at his strong jaw, covered in dark stubble. I struggled to meet his gaze, but I had to, one last time before it was full of pity and disgust. I watched him for a long moment before I began.
“I moved to New York when I was twenty-one. Always knew I wanted to, since I was little, I’d tell people I was going to live in New York. Manhattan to be exact. People in my small town in New Zealand didn’t really know what to say to that, they would mostly shrug it off, no one really left. Maybe to move a couple of hours away, but few really saw the world. So they dismissed me. I was determined.”
Cade smirked, a half smile breaking the hard expression on his face. “Bet you were baby.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my nerves. “Anyway, after seeing the wrong side of the tracks for a year, I nearly lost my dream, but luckily I had someone to set me straight. I got my shit together, got a degree and moved to New York. Never been happier, had my apartment, had a job. Had my city.” I smiled at the memory of how young I was, how carefree. “I met Amy, we were friends instantly, made heaps of other new friends, there were some guys, no one special.”
I took a deep breath and didn’t meet Cade’s eyes.
“Then I met Jimmy. He was different than all my glossy Manhattanite friends. He was a biker, wore a cut, rode a Harley and was gorgeous. I was infatuated, whether it was the novelty of being with a ‘bad boy’, a real one, so different than my new friends and my old ones, his dangerous but exciting world enticed me, sucked me in.”
Cade watched me intently jaw hard, super alert since I mentioned Jimmy wore a cut. I soldiered on.
“I got immersed in his world, I spent too much time with him, not enough with my friends. I’m not stupid, I knew he was into shady stuff, but he never let me see too much, I didn’t really want to know so I never asked, naïve, I know.”
I shook my head, angry with my past self.
“Anyway, one night I went to visit him at his apartment, which I never did, cos he lived in a seriously dangerous part of town. He didn’t like me coming there, but I had a surprise for him for his birthday, I was excited. So when I walked up his stairs I wasn’t prepared to see Jimmy blow someone’s head off, to feel their blood on my cheek.”
“Jesus, fuck, baby,” Cade muttered holding me tight.
I continued on, ignoring him, lost in my memory. I was so scared that night, I had just seen a man die, watched the man I loved kill someone.
“His name was Carlos.” I paused. “The man Jimmy murdered, his name was Carlos. He had three children and a wife, he was just a regular guy who made a couple of stupid choices, which led to him owing the club money. Money, which he couldn’t pay back. So Jimmy murdered him.” My voice was small and weak.
Cade’s hand circled my back. I looked at him, tears glistening in my eyes.
“His wife’s name was Rosa, she loved him with all her heart. His children were five, seven and fifteen.”
“You were close with him baby?” Cade asked softly, eyes never leaving mine.
I was surprised at his question. “No. Didn’t know him,” I replied.
This was Cade’s turn to look surprised. His expression was intense, unreadable.
“I found out who he was, after. I wanted to know. Needed to. I saw a man’s life end in front of my eyes, I wanted to know who he left behind. I talk to Rosa at least once a month.” I didn’t mention that I also give her monthly payments to help her keep her children fed and clothed.