Hold Me (Love The Way Duet 2)

My brother’s frown deepens as he looks back at me. “You know how vulnerable she is. And you don’t want to admit it, but what happened with Quincy fucked you up. It made you susceptible to this kind of thing.”

Rage flares in me, followed by the pang of a deep, old guilt. Not because I felt for Quincy the way I feel for Ella. It’s because the mention of her name makes every failure seem worse. All my worst moments stem from that one.

“Don’t talk about her.”

Cade narrows his eyes. “It’s true.”

My voice is low, the words coming from deep down in my chest and murmured with an edge to them that could kill. “I said, don’t talk about her. Quincy doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Ella, and you’re not going to sit here in this fucking coffee shop and talk to me about things you know nothing about.”

“Fine,” snaps Cade and then he takes several deep breaths in a row. His hands flex on the table before he grips his mug again. When next he speaks his voice is level. “I asked you here to tell you that I’m letting you go from The Firm.”

Cold shock washes over me. I can’t believe Cade would do this. Part of me is stunned that my own brother would turn on me. It doesn’t matter that I went against him first.

“You can’t be serious.” Stress keeps my voice tight. He isn’t even man enough to look me in the eye.

His jaw works as he grits his teeth. “If you’re going to be with her, you sure as hell can’t be on payroll.”

A tic in my jaw spasms with agreement. He’s right. I have no qualms about that. My relationship with Ella will be strictly what we decide tonight. As I sit here, it all unravels in front of me, a chill running through my blood. It’s not about what I want and what could be. It’s only about what she needs right now. A Dominant/submissive relationship. She has to know that’s all it is at the moment. I haven’t forgotten our night together and her emotional response. I can care for her in only some ways. She has to accept that. Until the situation is different, that’s all we can be. It’s not about what I want, it’s about what she needs.

My mind wanders to what I wish we could be, if things were different, until Cade stares back at me, expecting a response.

“I can’t be on payroll with the company or for this case?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Fresh anger flares in his eyes. “You don’t understand what almost happened, Zander. If Kamden had gone to the judge rather than me, you would be in a fucking jail cell, and she would be back at the Rockford Center.”

“It wasn’t me who—”

“Is that what you want? Ella back at that place, isolated from everyone? Is that what you want for her?”

For her hits me like a bullet straight through the chest. It rattles around my heart and exits out the other side. Cade understands this, at least. I don’t want those things. I don’t want the Rockford Center for Ella. I don’t want her to shrink back into that pale, silent woman.

“No.” It untwists something in my chest to say it. It feels honest, and right, even if I’m completely fucked. “I don’t want that for her. I did what I could to be careful.”

“Bullshit.” Cade’s grip tightens around his coffee cup. “If you had come to me, if you had informed us, we could have adjusted. You should have waited. You should have told me.”

“You’re full of shit.” My snide response is louder than I’d like and rewards us with an onlooker’s gaze. Clearing my throat, I adjust my tone. “Ella doesn’t just want what I give to her. She needs it. There’s no adjusting for that. It was what brought her out of her pain enough to even talk to the rest of you.”

Cade’s eyes meet mine and I have the impression he’s looking right through me as though he’ll refuse any evidence. Like the truth doesn’t matter.

“And what about you, Zander? Do you need it?”

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.