Page 133 of Stay Scared

“You tore the tape.”

“The wall and I disagreed.”

“The wall is unavailable for questioning.”

“Feels biased.”

I clean away the blood.

Cade’s fingers close around the edge of the bench when I press near the back of the wound. “Right fucking there.”

I change the angle, and his shoulders loosen by a fraction.

“Better now?”

“Enough that I might forgive you.”

“A medical breakthrough.”

A faint smile tries to appear before pain kills it.

I secure the new dressing and leave his vest beside him. Through the open doorway, Owen remains visible beneath the monitors. Mark is still upright on the stage feed. Nobody has told us we can move.

When I turn back, Cade is watching me instead of the door or the screens.

“You scared the hell out of me in that corridor.”

“I gathered that.”

His palms flatten against the bench beside his thighs. “If I’d found you under one of those walls, I would’ve torn the whole fucking section apart.”

“You would have reopened your ribs before you got through the first panel.”

“Didn’t say it was a good plan.”

“That has never slowed you down.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “I know what fear does to me.”

I wait.

Cade drags his tongue over the cut I left in his lower lip. “I reach.”

“You grab.”

“I do.”

“You block things.”

“I have.”

“And then you call it keeping me safe.”

His fingers hook beneath the bench. “I used to call it whatever kept you close.”

The honesty lands harder than another apology would have.

I step between his knees. Every muscle in Cade tightens, but his hands stay locked around the bench’s edge.