by Meg Collett
“Stevie!”
Kyra bounded over and scooped her into a tight hug. She pulled back, her tanned cheeks flushed and her eyes shimmering with happiness. She wore a sleeveless top proudly, baring her scars without any self-consciousness.
The show had kept Stevie busy these past few weeks, kept her away from Kyra more than she’d wanted, but her best friend was doing well. She was healthy and happy. As much as she hated to admit it, Hale was good for Kyra.
“Cade said you had to stay late,” Kyra was saying, scrunching up her nose in displeasure. “But I’m glad you’re here now! We were just about to eat. You hungry? I’m sure you’re hungry. Come over here and say hi to everyone! They’re so excited to hear all your crazy stories from the show. We couldn’t get anything juicy out of Cade. He keeps saying something about a nondisclosure, but we know that’s bull poop.”
Kyra took her hand and propelled her forward. As Stevie worked to keep up, she glanced at Cade. He’d noticed her, his gaze shadowed from the tree branches above him. He silently watched her walk across the patio as Arie and Hale talked next to him. The icy disapproval radiating off him almost had her running back into the house.
Kyra deposited her amongst a throng of people. Stevie pulled on her happy face and spun the stories Kyra and the others wanted to hear. She drew out the funniest bits, using her own misfortunes—like the roach hotel incident—to make everyone crack up. Even Florence deigned to smile from time to time. Stevie was just finishing the great decoration challenge debacle when Hale announced the steaks were done.
“And grilled vegetables,” he added with a pained look at Kyra, as if it burned his soul to use a grill for anything other than the manliest meats.
As everyone stood to fill their plates, Stevie checked her phone.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016: 7:12 PM—Shepherd “Oil Slick” Caldwell: Leaving Savannah now.
She checked the time and started her countdown. A second ago, she’d been starving. Now she felt sick. This was really happening.
“I didn’t think you would show up.”
Stevie jumped at the sound of Cade’s voice. He took in her nervousness with a cool, assessing gaze. Everyone else was on the other side of Kyra’s yard, getting their food, leaving Cade and her alone.
“Of course I did,” she whispered. “What happened today—”
“Was bullshit.”
She scowled at his pissiness. “—is normal for television. They need drama.”
“They manipulated you.”
She saw it then, the root of his anger, and it wasn’t because of her. Guilt churned in his warm eyes. He blamed himself, directing his anger right back at him, as if he could have done anything.
“No one manipulates me, Cade. I knew something like this would have to happen.”
Instantly, his face darkened beneath his lowered brows. That had been the wrong thing to say.
“I mean,” she hurried on, “that’s what you get when you hire Stephanie Reynolds to do a show.” She swept her hands wide and laughed, the sound cracked and hollow.
“Stop,” he growled, not buying her act. “Don’t do that.”
Stevie dropped her arms. “Do what?”
“Use humor at your expense. You’re better than that.”
“Whatever.” She bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to check her phone. She had to leave soon.
Cade took her arm and directed her toward the back of Kyra’s house, casting them beneath the pergola’s shadow, far from prying eyes.
“You could have told me. I thought we were closer than that. I mean, now that we’re . . . whatever we are. But today, when you did that shit, it was like you didn’t trust me enough to even warn me.”
“You would have tried to stop me.”
He pulled her closer to him, his body heat rolling off him in waves. Even in the humidity, he looked crisp in his white shirt and khakis, like he’d stopped at the office on his way home. She easily remembered how his body felt beneath all those proper clothes.
“You’re damn right I would have,” he hissed. “I believe you’re better than that, even if you don’t. Those people, that Shepherd guy, they don’t give a rat’s ass about your sobriety. I do. I always will.”
“I know that.” Her words were barely more than a whisper.
“Do you? Because you completely discounted me today. No one had your back on that sound stage, and it eats at me.”
The truth in his words seemed to tear at him. It really did eat away at his steady calm. The storm was brewing beneath the surface of his narrowed eyes, the grim twist of his mouth, and the way he leaned over her, like even now he was shielding her.
She almost wanted to laugh. Who was protecting who here?
“I was fine.” A lie, and he heard it instantly.
“You,” he snapped, voice rising slightly, “acted drunk because some producer told you to. For ratings. For everyone but yourself. And it’s not right.”
“What?”
Stevie’s spine stiffened. Her and Cade pivoted at the same time.
Kyra and Hale stood behind them, their expressions mirror images of shock.
“You did what?” Kyra asked again, the loose ends of her hair blowing across her bare shoulders, the plate of food in her hand forgotten.
“Nothing,” Stevie said quickly. “It was nothing.”
“They deserve to know.” Cade released her arm and stepped back, angling away from her toward Kyra and Hale. “If they’re going to have to watch it happen on national television, then they should know.”
“Stevie . . .” Kyra started. Her heartbreak and the way her eyes watered almost instantly pissed Stevie off.
All of this did.
“You all act like this is some great injustice, but I’ve done this shit my whole life. How do you think reality shows are made? It’s not with fucking truths and fairy tales.” She laughed bitterly. “That shit today? That was just one day. Imagine a childhood of that. Imagine years and years with too many shows to count. That,” she snapped, glaring at Cade, “was nothing.”
They were drawing the other guests’ attention. The steady chatter near the grill petered out, and everyone abandoned trying to politely refrain from staring. Worst of all, Annabelle’s hand rested on Nancy’s arm like she needed the support; Stevie had tried so hard to impress her.
So much for that.
Kyra and Cade were trying to tell her something. She didn’t listen to any of it. Her gaze landed on Hale’s quiet damnation, his jaw clenched and eyes judging.
“What now?” Stevie snapped at him. “Let me guess. You have a problem with this too.”
Kyra recoiled, her gaze darting between Stevie and Hale like she’d missed something.
Hale lifted a shoulder. “They”—he flicked a glance at Kyra and Cade—“treat you with kid gloves. They tiptoe around you like you’re a fucking bomb.”
“Hey,” Kyra began, her attention locked on Hale like a heat-seeking missile. “Language. Also, don’t talk to my friend like that.”
“No, I’m serious,” Hale continued. “She’s not made of glass. So what if she acted drunk? Was she actually drunk? You two need to realize she will screw up. She’ll more than likely have a drink at some point and she’ll need to start all over—”
“Hale, I swear—” Kyra warned.
“And that’s fine,” he plowed on. “That’s the battle, right? With addiction? It’s not a one-and-done game. She’ll have to deal with this shit herself, without you two breathing down her neck. She has to be strong enough to get back up when she’s knocked down or she’ll never stay sober.”
Every word he spoke, while the truth, was telegraphed straight back to his mother, to Kyra’s family, and to everyone in town who’d probably suspected Stevie’s problem, but now they’d had every freaking detail confirmed.
“I don’t need you standing up for me,” Stevie told him, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m standing u
p for him.”
“Excuse me?” Cade sputtered. “Why are you standing up for me? This is about being Stevie’s friend and supporting her.”
“But you’re not just friends, are you?” Hale countered, brother rounding off against brother. Stevie’s stomach sank. “And that’s exactly the problem.”
“What the hell,” Cade said, drawing out each word in a low, lethal tone, “did you just say?”
“You heard me. If you’re pissed at me, it’s only because you know it’s true. She needs time to get her shit together. Right, Stevie?” But he didn’t wait for her answer. “And when she messes up, because she will, it’ll be at your expense. You’ll be destroyed right alongside her.”
“Hale,” Kyra kitten-growled, looking like she might bite his ear off.
Cade leaned forward. He was ready to fight, ready to swing a fist. Stevie put her hand on his arm to pull him back, but he wouldn’t budge.
“That’s just swell, coming from you,” Cade said. “Kyra’s in recovery too, and you’re with her. You wouldn’t walk away if your life depended on it. So what’s the difference, brother?” He shouldered in front of Stevie, putting himself between her and Hale. Kyra’s face fell. “Because I don’t see it.”
“Look,” Stevie butted in. “Don’t fight. Everyone is staring. Let’s just—”
“There’s a big difference,” Hale said, lost in this battle with Cade. “Kyra’s recovery is nothing like Stevie’s. Not saying one is harder than the other, but I can handle it.”
Cade reacted like Hale had plunged a knife in his gut. His face went slack with shock, and his hands went limp at his sides. “And I can’t? That’s what you’re saying? I’m not strong enough?”
“No,” Hale hurried to say, already shaking his head. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”
“It sounds like that’s exactly what you said. You’ve always thought I was weak, and maybe I let you think that so you’d feel like a protector, but I’m not that little kid on the playground anymore, Hale. You don’t have to beat everyone up for me, and I sure as hell won’t let you attack Stevie because you think she’ll hurt me.”
“Wait.” Hale’s face had gone pale. “Cade, hang on. I—”
“Screw that,” Cade spat. “You’re damn straight I would be destroyed right alongside Stevie if she lost her way in this, because I’ll be right there with her every step of the way, just like you are with Kyra. Stevie’s battles are mine now. Her losses will hurt me just as much as they hurt her, but I can take it. I’m strong enough. Far stronger than you give me credit for.”
“I know. Please—”
“I love her,” Cade said. He turned to Stevie. Her mouth dropped open, falling somewhere around her shoes. “I love you, and I’m with you. We’ve got this, you and me. Every step. You don’t scare me, Stevie Reynolds, not the slightest. You’re not alone in this.”
A hush fell over everyone. The only sound was the endless waves brushing against the beach, constant and steady and almost forgotten in their consistency. Their continuous presence was easily overlooked, but powerful beyond measure.
And a magical thing happened.
Over Hale’s shoulder, Annabelle smiled, bright and shining like the sun, at Cade. She turned it to Stevie, and Stevie felt every inch of her smile’s warmth radiating over her skin.
“Are you ready?” Cade asked, staring down at her.
He’d taken her hand at some point after professing his love for her, and Stevie had wound her fingers through his without really realizing it, holding tight.
Kyra clapped a hand over her mouth to hide her face-splitting grin. She would stand by Hale tonight, even if he was being an ass, but her support was just as empowering as Annabelle’s.
Stevie squeezed Cade’s hand. “I love you too,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“Cade, hang on.” Fear riddled Hale’s voice. He’d spoken the truth tonight, but seeing its effect on his brother, Hale looked ready to eat his words. She didn’t feel triumphant though. She understood him and every word he’d said.
“Not tonight, Hale.” Cade pulled her against him and turned to the door. “Not tonight.”
Only when they were outside, heading toward her house, did Stevie remember why she needed to return home alone tonight. Her gut twisted and she thought she caught sight of the corner of a black Mercedes, but it was just a trick of the night.
Or a warning.
20
“You shouldn’t be mad at Hale.”
Stevie let them into her dark house through the front door. With a quick glance around to make sure Emilie was gone, she stepped aside for Cade and hit the lights.
“Well, I am.”
“Everything he said was true.”
Cade headed straight to her kitchen to pour a glass of water. As the water streamed from the faucet, he said, “He needs to work on his delivery.”
“I’ll agree with you on that.” She snorted. “But he means well.”
He took a long pull of water like he hadn’t drunk in days. He set the glass aside and turned off the water before leveling her with a flat stare. “Brothers fight, Stevie. Don’t be so worried.”
She made a face. “I just don’t want you guys fighting over me.”
Her eyes shifted to the windows. The streetlamps were off, and the street outside looked like a long stretch of shadows. She wondered if Shepherd would come to the front door or the back, or just let himself in. Her stomach twisted. Maybe he would—
Cade was next to her, his hands on her hips and his fingers playing with the hem of her frayed shorts. He leaned down and placed a breathy kiss against her neck. “Did you hear me say I love you?”
A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Even tonight, even with what was about to happen, she could still feel this trembling happiness, this shiver of longing tightening down her spine. Letting her head fall back, she leaned into his kiss. “Did you hear me say it back?”
“I did.” His response rumbled against her skin as he raked his kiss up toward her mouth.
She laughed—a gasping, trigger-tight sound. Cade wrapped himself around her. His hand squeezed her backside.
“Cade,” she managed. “Hang on.”
She felt him smile against her skin. With a deep inhale that drew in her scent, he pulled back, mouth quirking. “Yes?”
“It’s serious.”
The impact of her words shuttered his amusement. He stepped back and angled his head. “What is it?”
“Shepherd.”
Cade’s eyes instantly narrowed. “Tell me.”
Just moments ago, Cade had told her not to discount him, and the words to do so yet again were right on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want him here for this, when Shepherd came. She wanted him somewhere safe so he wouldn’t have to deal with the ugly. But she’d seen him take a stand beside her tonight. She’d heard every word he’d said and seen his truth.
He wouldn’t be discounted again. Not by her.
To push him away now would only play into the idea that he couldn’t handle it—the very idea she’d scoffed at Hale for having. Cade deserved more. He wasn’t the bullied little kid who’d tried drowning himself in a bathtub, and she wasn’t the girl who deserved the ugly things in her life.
His face turned stony, fierce. His brows lowered and he opened his mouth to argue, to fight for his right to stand next to her.
She didn’t give him the chance because, finally, she agreed with him. She told him everything from the very beginning.
Her relationship with Shepherd in L.A. The things she’d done. The trap she’d made for herself. And then her escape. The struggle of driving away from him and the toxicity she’d created in the City of Angels. How hard she’d fought to separate herself from that here, but how she’d ultimately failed. And then the wreck. Her redemption. How her parents had pressed for a new show. The real reason behind her empty bank accounts—Shepherd knew where to strike her. Then she told him about the show. Shepherd’s propo
sal of helping Cade and his mother and his business.
At this point, they were sitting on her couch. When she reached the part about his mother and business, Cade jerked to his feet and started pacing. Veins threaded up his arms from his tight fists. The flush working up his neck was from pure rage.
Stevie licked her lips and continued.
She told him about the tiny manipulations, like the kiss during the bathroom demo and the fight during the decoration competition. How she was doing what Shepherd wanted so she could please him and keep him off Cade’s back. She told Cade how easily the show could have ruined everything he’d built here. She spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, and finally, he understood. She laid out everything she’d done to keep his image intact.
“Stevie,” he murmured, turning to her.
The top button of his shirt was undone and his sleeves were shoved up his arms. His feet were bare. They hadn’t bothered turning on the living room lights when they came in here to talk, and seeing him like this, in the dim light, steeled her resolve. She loved this man.
The fight tonight was for them.
She continued her story, telling him how Mark had informed her that Shepherd was suspected of stealing money. How he’d been sent down here as a punishment. She described the first time she snooped in his bus, how Emilie had found her, and how Emilie was working with the network’s board to find out if Shepherd had stolen money or would steal again. Their second attempt to discover information had gone much better, but they’d inadvertently set Emilie up to take the fall. And Shepherd had had the noose ready and waiting. He’d set them both up.
Cade had his hands on his hips, waiting, watching her. He knew the worst had yet to come.
“I knew he’d punish me too,” she said. “I just didn’t know what he had on me.”
She explained how shows created promotional packages to present to advertisers and the importance of them. That everything hung in the balance of netting good advertisers.
