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It’s his mouth—quick to grin—in a strong, stubbled jaw that has my heart fluttering. It’s in how he moves, as if he owns the place, dominating the air around him until it vibrates with his power that settles in me. That makesmefeel stronger. It’s in the way he looks in a suit.
It’s his command and his control and…
That’s when I remember—Cade.
Cade’s here and suddenly, the rest of the world can go to hell.
4
CADE
“Sorry if we’reboring you, Cindy.”
Isabelle’s eyes are lockedon mine and I’m glad. Glad because those eyes of hers are beautiful even though she looks like she’s been to hell and back. Glad because if she’s staring at me, she isn’t staring at her so-called friends.Friends who just fucking fired her.
“Back off, man,” I rumble as I dive into a confrontation that is none of my business, but no way in hell am I going to let this jackass annihilate Isabelle after what she’s been through. “She was discharged like five seconds ago. You giving her shit isn’t going to—”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Confused, Charlie, Cindy’s boss, mutters, “He’s a regular at the diner, David. Take it easy, sweetheart.”
Finally, I glance away from Isabelle and stare at the Disciple I know is called Poet. His top lip curls in a sneer at my dead-eyed stare.
Ignoring his woman, I drawl, “I’m her fucking boyfriend.”
“Wait, you’re dating this guy, Cindy?” Charlie gasps, looks from me to Cindy, her expression loaded with disbelief.
Not letting Isabelle argue with me, I move over to her and carefully help her out of the wheelchair. I haul her into my side even though she struggles. I know it has nothing to do with my support or her not wanting my help and everything to do with her smelling sour, of sickness and hospitals. But the moment I realize she’s shivering, and her goddamnfriendsdidn’t notice, is the moment I tuck her tighter into my hold. Questionable “perfume” be damned.
Dragging off my jacket, I tuck her inside it while I glower at Poet and Charlie. “Don’t you care that she’s shivering when you’re firing herin the lobby of a goddamn ER? Talk about kicking a woman when she’s fucking down.”
Charlie tugs on her husband’s arm. I have to hand it to her—she seems genuinely distressed.Now.After I snapped at her. But better late than fucking never. It’s enough that I lessen my glare and pin it solely on her dickwad husband, who might be defending his woman, and that deserves a round of fucking applause, but not when Isabelle’s been through hell in the past twelve hours.
Still, she disappoints me by muttering, “Let it go, David. Things have been hard for Cindy lately.”
“They’ve been hard for everyone, Charlie, and Cindy knows this.”
“I didn’t mean to be a burden,” Isabelle snaps.
Charlie’s gaze softens but Poet grates out, “That’s your problem, Cindy. You don’t think before you act. You just do things and everyone else has to deal with the consequences. You said you’d stopped using, but here we are—”
“I’m getting you out of here,” I tell Isabelle, not even looking at the prick as I interrupt his diatribe.
“Wait! You can’t just leave,” Charlie cries. “I don’t even know this guy other than what he orders at the diner!”
Isabelle studies me for the longest moment. I have no idea what she’s thinking, but I know she’s snuggling into me. I know she’s stopped shivering. I know—
Goddammit.
Train wrecks.
What is it with me and disasters waiting to happen?
Fuck. My. Life.
The moment I set eyes on her a month ago, when I first showed up at the diner, I accepted she’d likely be a problem, but when she presses her hand to my abs for balance, the heat from that innocent touch surges through me like an inferno.
She stares at me for so fucking long that I’m not even sure if she remembers the half-baked story we concocted while she was high.
