Page 68

“Where are you going?” Savannah asks as I open the door to leave with Stanley and I close my eyes in pure fucking frustration.

I love Savannah… with every goddamn fiber of my being, but I’ve learned that when she needs to take care of someone, she goes completely overboard.

I feel like I'm under house arrest and she's my own personal warden.

Something I'd be thrilled about under normal circumstances, but right now I've got shit to handle.

“Guess I was wrong to think I could escape this place without an interrogation, huh?” I mutter to Stanley, who's so excited to be going anywhere that he's practically vibrating out of his fur.

Apparently, his Aunt Madison took him on five walks a day, and now he sits at the door, expecting the same treatment from me.

“I was just going to take our darling dog for a walk,” I say as Stanley bolts through the door, forcing me to yank him back.

The sudden movement sends a sharp pain shooting through my ribs, and I have to bite back a grunt.

It's been a week since Jeremy used me as his personal punching bag, but my body's still reminding me of every blow he landed.

Savannah's eyes narrow like she caught that wince. “Cade, you can barely lift your arms without grimacing. Maybe I should take Stanley instead.”

“I'm fine,” I lie through my teeth, even though standing here is taking more out of me than I want to admit.

“You're not fine. You're still favoring your left side, and I saw you pop three painkillers with your coffee this morning.” She crosses her arms and gives me a look I know well. That's her I'm not backing down look. “Dr. Henry said you need to rest.”

“Dr. Henry is a college student who thinks he knows everything because he's taking a few sports medicine classes.” I adjust my grip on Stanley's leash, trying not to let her see how much the simple movement still hurts me. “Besides, I've been getting plenty of rest with my very attractive nurse.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. “That's not the kind of rest he meant.”

“Maybe not, but I think all the cardio is good for recovery, don’t you? Gets the blood flowing to all the right places, making me heal quicker.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“You’re impossible.” She sighs, resting her hand on the kitchen counter as she scans all the fruit she bought and has been diligently dicing it up for me.

“I’ve been resting for a week, Sav. I’m going stir-crazy.”

“You've been healing for a week. There's a difference.”

“Have you got a nurse fantasy by any chance? Because you’re taking such good care of me and doing the role so well that I think we should give this a little more exploration.”

“Cade. Why don’t you want me there?” There it fucking is. She can read me like I'm an open book written in giant font. “Because you're still wincing every time you move, and I'm worried about leaving you alone.”

She's not wrong. My face might look mostly human again. The swelling around my eye has gone down and the cuts have scabbed over, but my ribs are still tender as hell. Every twist, every sudden movement, every time Stanley tugs on his leash sends lightning through my torso. It’s safe to say Coach Mckibbon has some questions about where I am, but apparently, Dash and Henry have been able to hold him off seeing me.

I meet her gaze over my shoulder, and those beautiful eyes are studying me like I'm a puzzle she's determined to solve. “You know I love you, Sav, but I've got some business I need to handle.”

Her eyebrow arches. “Business? What kind of business requires you to hobble around town when you're still healing?”

“I'm not hobbling. It's more like a sexy swagger with a slight limp.”

“You're totally hobbling, and don't think I haven't noticed you sleeping on your back every night because lying on your side hurts too much.”

Fuck. She notices everything.

“Hey, sleeping on my back has its advantages. Better angle for you when you want to—”

“Cade!” But she's fighting a smile now.

I shift my weight carefully because even though the bruising has faded from that lovely purple-black to a sickly yellow-green, it still feels like someone's got their fist permanently lodged between my ribs.

“Look, it's nothing dangerous. I'm just meeting someone.”

“Who?”

“Someone who can help us.”

“Cade.” She stares at me for a long moment, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. “You're meeting Jeremy, aren't you?”

“Maybe.”

“Cade—”

“Savannah, I need you to trust me on this. Just this once, let me handle it. And when I get back, maybe you can play nurse again. I think I need my temperature taken.”

She holds my stare for a beat too long, like she's deciding whether or not she's going to call me on my bullshit, but she doesn't. Not today.

She's got bigger things consuming her mind—Adley, mostly, and the possibility of bringing her home.

Savannah's pretending she's not completely losing her shit over it, but I know her.

She's so hopeful it'll go through that she doesn't want to jinx it by talking about it too much.

“Fine,” she says finally, but her voice is tight with worry. “But take your phone, and check in every thirty minutes.”

“Every hour.”

“Thirty minutes, or I'm calling Dash.”

“Deal. And when I get back, maybe we can test out how well my ribs are really healing. Very thoroughly.”

“I love you too. Just… be careful, okay? I can't lose you.”

“You won't,” I promise, even though we both know I can't guarantee that. “Besides, you're stuck with me, Pretty Girl. For better or worse, remember?”

I glance down at my furry accomplice, giving him a look that says we've got work to do.

Stanley barks once as I step out of the apartment, and even that small sound makes my head throb where Jeremy's fist connected with my skull. The weight of what's coming presses against my still-tender ribs like a constant reminder of what I've already sacrificed.

The fight may be over, but the war?

That's just getting started.

Jeremy’s already on the bench when I get there, hunched over with his hood up looking miserable as fuck. His foot won’t stop tapping against the concrete and he doesn’t acknowledge Stanley and me as we approach. This better be fucking good news.

Stanley trots ahead, sniffing the grass and marking his territory, completely oblivious to the fact that we’re going to discuss ending a man’s entire existence. Figuratively speaking, of course. Death is obviously a step too far for me.

I ease down on the other end of the bench with a quiet grunt. Still sore as hell, still moving like I got hit by a freight train full of regret. Jeremy glances over, finally meeting my eyes, and the bastard has the audacity to look amused.

“You still look like absolute shit,” he says, his lips twitching. “Thought it was just a post-fight thing, but apparently that's just your face.”

I want to give him some smart-ass comeback that'll wipe away his smirk, but I can't. The fucker is built like a Greek statue and clearly bounced back easily from our little dance while I'm still here looking like roadkill.

“Nice dog,” he adds, watching Stanley investigate what's apparently the most fascinating patch of grass in existence. “Savannah always wanted one in the group home. Used to talk about having a little house with a yard big enough for a dog and a bunch of kids.”

The comment hits me square in the chest. Of course she did. Of course she dreamed about the kind of normal life that I took for granted.

“Well, she’s getting it now,” I say with more pride in my voice than intended. I know exactly what Savannah deserves and I will spend my life giving it to her.

“Yeah, she is.” Jeremy's expression goes soft for a split second before he remembers he's supposed to be a hard-ass. “She deserves it all, man. Every good fucking thing in the world.”

“I didn't come here for a therapy session,” I say, cutting through the sentiment because I doubt my pain killers will last that long. “I want to know if you've got it.”

He rolls his eyes before pulling something small from his jacket pocket, holding the USB between his thumb and forefinger like it might explode.

I snatch it from him, barely believing he actually managed to pull this off. This tiny piece of plastic and metal might be the key to everything—to Savannah never having to look over her shoulder again, to building the life she's always deserved but never thought she could have.

“How'd you manage it?”

“When I went back into the bar after our little performance, Luke saw me stumbling around and I fed him some bullshit about feeling woozy. Dumb fuck bought it completely. Offered me his office to recover from the 'brutal beating' you gave me.” Jeremy's smirk is pure mockery.

“Hey, I landed some decent shots.”

Jeremy actually laughs. “Sure, tough guy. If that's the story you want to tell yourself, I'll play along.”

“What happened in his office?”

“Plugged in the USB, waited for the little light to stop blinking, then yanked it out. Felt like the longest five minutes of my fucking life, sitting there waiting for someone to walk in.” He shrugs like he didn't just risk his life for people he barely knows. “But nobody came.”

I nod, tucking the USB into my jacket's inside pocket where I can feel it against my chest. This little device is going to change everything, and I'm not letting it out of my sight until Luke's world is nothing but ashes. “Perfect. You did good.”

But he doesn't look relieved. If anything, he looks like he's about to puke.

“I don't know, man,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “What if they trace it back to me? What if they figure out I'm the one who fucked them? You know how Luke operates.” His voice drops. “He’s already told me I need to win another fight to make up for this loss. I can’t keep doing this shit and risk ending up in a cell again.”

“You won't have to,” I tell him, and I mean every word because the alternative isn't something I'm willing to consider.

Not when Savannah would blame herself if something happened to him.

“The guy who programmed this thing swore to me that as soon as someone tries to access anything from that drive, it'll launch malware that'll nuke Luke's entire system.

Nothing will be left. They'll think it's a hardware failure or some random glitch. No way anyone traces it back to you.”

He nods slowly, but I don’t think he fully believes me. Can’t say I blame the guy.

Jeremy exhales like he's been holding his breath for hours, then looks at me with an expression that's way too serious for comfort.

“You take care of her,” he says, voice quiet but steady. “Savannah. She's… fuck, man. She's everything good that's left in this shitty world.”

My chest tightens because I know exactly what he means. Savannah is pure light wrapped up in soft skin and stubborn determination. She's every reason I've ever had to be better than the selfish asshole I used to be.

“I know,” I say, and those two words carry every promise I've ever made her, every vow I plan to keep until I'm six feet under.

“She deserves someone who'll burn the world down for her,” he continues. “Someone who sees what I see when I look at her.”

“She's got that.” The words come out rougher than I intended. “She's got everything I have to give and then some. Always will.”

He studies my face for a long moment.

“Good. Because if you ever hurt her, if you ever make her feel like she's not worth everything—”

“I won't.” The certainty in my voice surprises even me. “I'd rather rip my own heart out than cause her pain.”

Jeremy nods and pulls his hood up as he stands.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Gotta ghost for a while. Lie low until we know this thing worked. If everything goes to plan, maybe I can stick around. If not…” He doesn't finish, but he doesn't need to.

“Good luck. Make it count.”

“I'm not doing this for luck,” he says, looking back at me one last time. “I'm doing this for her. So she never has to be afraid again.”

I don't try to stop him from leaving. Jeremy's not the kind of guy who needs sentimental goodbyes or group hugs. He's a survivor, just like Savannah, and he'll figure out how to land on his feet.

I sit there for a while after he's gone, my thumb brushing against the USB through my jacket. Stanley eventually abandons his grass investigation and presses his head against my knee, like he knows some serious shit is about to go down.

He's not wrong. But first, I need to get this thing to Matty and finish what we started.

For Savannah. For the life she deserves. For the family we're building.

Time to watch Luke's empire burn.