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I follow him as he checks the plants and makes notes on his phone. I don’t know what any of it means, but I’m fascinated watching him work this way. It’s strange to see him in a different environment, and I’m relieved that some of his earlier tension seems to have ebbed away. At least for now.
The entire process takes about thirty minutes, and just when we’re finishing up, the door opens, and Ace walks in. His eyes lock onto me within seconds, and his brow furrows in what appears to be irritation. Whatever his problem is, it looks like Madden knows, and I’m guessing it has to do with me.
“What’s she doing here?” Ace grunts.
Madden curses under his breath before he answers. “She’s helping me. You got a problem with that?”
A silent thought seems to pass between them before Ace cuts his gaze to me again.
“Did he show you your namesake?”
Madden stiffens, and I do too.
“My namesake?”
“Yeah,” Ace says. “Peaches. It’s his blend. Or is it Cold-Hearted Bitch? I guess it depends on the day, doesn’t it, Kodiak?”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Madden growls at him. “You aren’t going to talk to her like that.”
They glare at each other, and meanwhile, I feel like I might be sick.
“Your words.” Ace shrugs. “Not mine. You should know by now I don’t sugarcoat bullshit.”
“Let’s talk outside.” Madden leads the way, dragging me along beside him.
My mind reels with too many thoughts as he helps me into the truck and leaves me there. They bicker outside, and all I can think about is that joint he had in his bed this morning. It must have been the blend Ace is talking about. He was smoking it after he fucked me, but he was thinking of her.
Pressure builds behind my eyes, and I can’t stand this feeling. I can’t stand any of this. I crack open my door because I’m tired of being left in the dark, and I need to know what’s being said out there.
“That detective was here today,” Ace says. “He wants to talk to you again.”
“Fucking Christ.” Madden paces a few steps and shakes his head.
“So are you going to tell him, or am I?” Ace asks.
“No.” Madden’s voice takes on a hard edge. “That’s not happening.”
“You swore this wouldn’t be a fucking problem,” Ace barks out.
Madden stares off into the distance and sighs. “I don’t need you on my ass. I know what’s at stake.”
“Do you?” Ace questions. “Because it’s not reading like that from where I’m standing. You have people relying on you. Everyone here needs you, brother. Zoe needs you. Are you going to let her down because you’re too busy fucking around to send Bianca’s lying ass back where it belongs?”
“Don’t,” Madden grits out. “Don’t even fucking go there. You know Zoe is my priority.”
“Well, you sure as shit won’t be able to do anything for her if you’re in prison, will you?”
Silence settles between them, and I try to keep my emotions in check. That stupid jealous beast inside me is rearing her ugly head again, feeding my fears as questions swirl in my mind. Who is Zoe?
Before I get an answer, Madden leaves Ace standing there alone as he stalks back to the truck. I shut my door, and with it goes any chance of escape. But as I stare out the window on the way back to his house, entombed in the silence between us, I don’t know if it would have mattered anyway. Staying is hell. But leaving will be, too.
Chapter 52
Madden
—PAST—
“How much longer do you think they’ll keep you?” Kieran asks as we make our daily trek across the campus.
“They told me two or three more weeks, probably.”
He nods. “I’m here for another four, at least. Once I have the seal of approval from my doc, I’m out of here.”
“Got any plans for what you’re going to do?” I ask, mostly because it seems like the thing to say.
He side-eyes me. “I have some ideas. What about you?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue,” I admit. “This was plan A, B, and C.”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I shrug and then glance at Ryan, who’s been quiet for the past twenty minutes. He talked animatedly throughout dinner, leaving little room for any other conversation as he discussed every great music legend that ever influenced him. After ranking them, he proceeded to give us rundowns of their entire careers. His passion for the subject often pulls him out of the darkness that seems to lurk around us. But when evening settles in and we have to face another night of tormented memories, we all tend to get a little quieter.
These are how the days typically go. When we aren’t checking off the boxes and doing the things we have to do, we’re focused on the music. It’s been a distraction from life. Something to feel good about and get us through the days. But we all know it can’t last. At some point, we’ll have to go our separate ways, and I think that’s been bugging Ryan the most.
