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Cade is alive.

With Saint’s weight gone, I pull myself to my knees and then onto the glass-covered seat.

Through my tears, I see Cade standing with his arm around Saint. The dog’s risen on his hind legs, paws resting on Cade’s chest in a hug. Cade murmurs soft praises about how good he’s been, and something about that tenderness—this killer gentling his war dog—makes my throat close up.

I bite back a sob as I crawl out of the car. My legs shake like they might give out, but I force myself upright. Every cell in my body screams to close the distance between us, to feel him—solid and real and alive—against me.

“Cade . . .” His name catches in my throat.

He turns, and the look he gives me steals my breath. There’s something raw in his eyes, something that makes me want to shatter in his arms.

Butthen he winces as his gaze rakes over me, and that moment of vulnerability vanishes.

“Are you okay?” His voice is flat and cold, nothing like the warmth when he checked on me during the shootout.

“I—yeah, I’m good.” I manage a nod.

“Sweet.” The detachment in his tone hits like ice water.

I open my mouth to say more when Saint drops to all fours, and that’s when I see the blood soaking Cade’s arm and side, so much blood. Horror twists my gut at the sight.

“Oh my God, Cade, you’re bleeding!” I reach for him without thinking, hands going to his wounds. He’s hurt. He’s hurt because of me.

But he pushes me back, his expression hardening to stone. “Not now. Get in the car.”

“Cade, please—”

“Get. In. The. Car. Luciana.”

His voice hits me like a blade, freezing me in place. The man who kissed me breathless earlier, who made me feel things I can’t name, has vanished. In his place stands the cold and ruthless Cade Quinn.

I swallow the rejection and stumble back to the truck, hands trembling as I slide into my seat. My racing heart pounds out the truth with every beat: he’s hurt.

Cade clicks his teeth for Saint, and the truck dips as the dog bounds into the back.

I glance over my shoulder and see two motorcycles neatly parked on the road shoulder, but no bodies. Cade’s taken care of those.

I shiver, turning back to face the front as Cade slides into the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched tight, tension radiating off him in waves.

Hedoesn’t start the car. Just sits there, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. The silence stretches and I brace myself against what I know is coming.

Finally, he turns to me, his voice deadly soft. “You want to tell me what the fuck you did this morning?”

My fingers find my rune pendant as I push words past the lump in my throat. “Nothing. I swear. Well, I only sent my friend—an email.”

He smiles coldly, and that hurts worse than if he’d yelled. “Email. Of course. Had to update your status while on a road trip with a psycho.”

His tone raises my hackles even as guilt churns in my stomach. “Look, I know I messed up.”

“You lied to me.”

In that quiet tone he might as well have accused me of shooting him for how it makes me feel.

“Maybe I wasn’t, I-I wasn’t completely open—”

“No, Luciana. I gave you a chance to come clean this morning. You looked into my face and lied.”

“I was scared, alright!” My voice cracks as the truth finally spills out. “I had no idea where you were taking me.”