Page 164 of The Broken Note

“I will never hurt her.” I pause and amend, “Not anymore.”

“You can’t make promises like that because you don’t even know what love is. Who’s to say you won’t get tired of her? Maybe in a few weeks, she stops being entertaining, and you find another poor, helpless scholarship student to play around with.”

“Whether you believe me or not, my love for Cadence is real. And it’s not going to change. I need to know where she is.”

“So you can torment her more? You think ruling and obsessing over her… you think any of that is love? It’s not. It’s delusion. It’s control. It’s evil.”

My lips delve into a scowl and I snap at her, “If you’re not going to tell me, then I don’t need anything else from you.”

I whirl around, my temper rattling under my skin and begging to pour out. Breeze’s accusations are like claws, tearing through the fabric of my mind.

Is she right? Did my love hurt Cadey rather than make her life better?

“I’m glad she got away from you.”

My entire body stops cold. I spin. Stalk forward. And then I’m in front of Breeze in a blink.

Looming over her, I growl, “What do you mean she got away from me? You’re saying Cadey wasn’t taken by someone. Shechoseto leave?”

Eyes shiny with disdain, Breeze taunts, “Why don’t you ask your father?”

* * *

I crash through the doors of dad’s studio, ignoring the way Lucien eyes me and Ron moves to stop me.

“Mr. Cross, you can’t—”

My fist connects with Ron’s face before he lays a hand on my arm. I crush skin, bone and flesh and hear something crack.

A wave of satisfaction fills me.

Lucien roars. He swings at me, holding nothing back, eyes ablaze as if he’d dreamt of this moment all his life. Ron rises from where he’d staggered against dad’s mixer board. Together, they forcefully bend my arms behind my back and drive me to my knees.

I smile despite the pain. I knew I’d only get one punch in and I’m glad I made it count. Ron’s mouth is bleeding harder than mine is.

I’m just sad I didn’t get to give Lucien the same greeting.

Next time, maybe.

“What is all this?” Dad steps into the room, wearing a turtleneck, jeans and a smug expression. His eyes rove over his bodyguards, both breathing hard.

“Hi, dad,” I say darkly.

“Shouldn’t you be in school—”

“Where. Is. She?”

“Who?”

One word. One eyebrow quirk. But I see the truth as if it walked into the room with us.

Dad took Cadey—whether she went willingly or not.

He’s the one behind this.

“I’m going to end you,” I growl. “Where the hell is she?”

“You have to be more specific, son.” Dad goads me, his tone slathered in amusement.