Page 24 of Trapped With You

Cade dragged his knuckles under my chin, tipping it up to meet his inquisitive gaze. “Ella?”

The cuff of his black hoodie caught my eyes.

My heart twisted inside my rib cage.

EXCwas stitched in gold threading like a mark of ownership.

It was no secret that I’d been a territorial girlfriend during our relationship. To the point where I sewed my initials on all of Cade’s clothes. And he, in return, loved it, watching me warmly as I went about branding him as mine.

Why has he not gotten rid of all the hoodies etched with my print? Why is he still wearing my ring? Why, why, why…

My mind spun as conflicting emotions waged a war inside of me. Hurt from his betrayal. Indignation, from the casual way he carried the emblems of my love after ripping me apart. Satisfaction, from the fact that after all this time, I never stopped owning him.

Cade made a mistake and he still wanted, still cared, still felteverythingfor me.

The evidence was right before my eyes.

And he saw first-hand what it did to me, if the glimmer of hope flaring in his blue eyes was any indication.

Mustering the strength to replace my cracked armour, I steeled myself and slapped his hand away. “Get over yourself. I can fuck whoever I want without you threatening bodily harm. Mind your fucking business, Cade.”

“You are my business,” he grated, snatching my hand when I tried to walk away. “You’llalwaysbe my business. No one—nofuckingone—will ever lay their hands on you in disrespect. I’ll put a bullet through the skull of anyone who hurts you, Ella.”

Cade promising to keep me safe and defend my honour, despite us not being together, messed with my head while simultaneously causing my heart to soar like a thousand doves taking flight. I was a strong, independent woman, but there was something gratifying about a man who swore to protect you from all harm.

One thing was for certain.

This devastatingly beautiful man, who broke my heart, was still crazily obsessed with me.

“Do you hear me?” he repeated softly, squeezing my wrist, his thumb circling over my fast-beating pulse. “I would kill for you, baby.”

The darkness of the room, the sound of our breathing, and the sonorous weather laced with romanticism heightened every feeling of love and angst.

I searched his eyes for lies, finding only a mixture of longing, vexation, and adoration.

I would kill for you, baby.

God, that statement was akin to an act of worship to me and I loved it.

My own gaze never wavered from Cade’s as I leaned closer, like I was getting ready to kiss him. His Adam’s apple coasted up and down in his neck with anticipation.

Then I went for the kill. “I bet you said that to every girl you cheated on me with, huh?”

Cade fell back a step, stunned. I basked in his ache. It satisfied a sadistic facet of my nature that was previously dormant.

I jerked my wrist out of his hold and pivoted away. At the end of the aisle, there was a magazine stand next to the librarian’s main desk. My flashlight shone over it and I caught somethingcompletely out of place.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. That’s where they hid the key?

I marched over to the stand. It had a selection of tame business and journalism magazines. Sometimes there was the occasional Architectural Digest.

But never had there been aHustlerissue sitting smackdab in the middle amongst the rest. It was Shaun’s favourite reading material. The pornographic kind.

I plucked it out of the stand and a bronze key fell to the ground. A piece of paper—the second dare—was threaded through the hole in the bow.

Cade materialized out of thin air and grabbed it. Not having seen or heard him move across the aisle, a bolt of surprise struck me, followed by unmissable heat when he stood to his full six-foot-two frame. He uncurled the fingers of my right hand and deposited the key in my palm.

The pads of his fingers grazed over my heart and life lines.