14. KADENCE

KADENCE

M y fingers grasped tightly around the edges of Cole’s cut as he and Holden weave through the streets of Pine River. It's been years since I’ve been on the back of a motorcycle, and as he speeds up and the wind whips through my hair and the cold prickles at the skin of my cheeks, I remember why I loved it. The heat radiating from Cole’s body seems to help for a bit until he makes a left turn and the chill spreads over me again.

I can hear the roar of Holden’s bike trailing behind us and my mind wanders to the office, his hand on mine, and the way it felt like tiny fireworks exploded onto my skin as soon as he touched me. Not even in the beginning with Jeremy did I ever feel anything like that.

His bike pulls up next to Cole’s as they hit a straight road and my eyes glance over to the man my mind has been running circles around all day. His hair is tucked behind his ears and, at some point in the ride, he’s slipped a navy blue ball cap over his head. He looks different with his hair tucked back and not shrouded around his face. The three-day-old stubble that speckles his face creates shadows that sharpen his cheekbones and jawline under the moonlight.

He’s gorgeous and I hate the fact that every time we spend more than five minutes together, it turns guarded. Well…I turn guarded. Last night I got scared when he showed up with dinner. I have spent the last month protecting myself from men, from getting close to anyone other than Maria. When Cole offered me the job, I swore to myself that I wouldn't get close to anyone, but with Holden, it feels almost inevitable and that's what terrifies me the most. From him protecting me to offering to help and then trying to feed me…to some, it might feel ridiculous. To me, it felt like a heavy boot named anxiety pressing against the back of my neck for trusting a man again. Still, the both of us put up walls to block any vulnerability. He is crass, moody, and seems like he hates everyone except for Cole but a part of me still feels drawn to him. A twinge of familiarity sparked between us and I was still figuring out what that meant.

Holden’s bike speeds past us, making a sharp turn to the left onto a long-curved driveway. Cole follows behind, the road winding as we ride further beyond the tree line that hugs the main road. Soon I can see the faint glow of lights peeking through the branches.

I gasp softly, seeing the size of the house as it comes into view. It’s massive and made of long, dark wooden logs with lighter wood trim. The glow from all the windows lights up the driveway, making the small solar-powered trail lights almost pointless.

Cole parks his bike next to Holden’s, kicking down the stand before climbing off. He holds a hand out to me with a bright smile to help me down.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” he almost whispers as my hand grips his.

I swing my leg over the seat, firmly planting my feet on the ground. My legs feel almost numb from the vibration of the motorcycle and it makes my heart race in my chest. The feeling is as addicting as leaning over the edge of a balcony on a tall building.

Cole lets my hand go, his brows furrowing for a moment, and as I glance up at him, it’s like he’s finally taking a moment to consider whether or not bringing me here was a good idea. I can read the doubt behind his eyes from a mile away, and it’s something I’m all too familiar with. The question of being wanted.

“I’ll introduce you to Marlowe,” he finally says. “But before I do, she’s a little…”

“Nosy? Abrasive? Bit of a hard ass?” Holden quips, climbing off his bike. Those bright blue eyes turn on me, heating my skin as if he had superpowers.

Cole winces slightly, throwing a pointed glance at Holden. “I was gonna say protective…”

“Yeah, you can add that.” He sits back on the edge of his bike, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest, “Real mama-bear type,” he goads, narrowing his eyes, attempting to be playful. It only makes the pit in my stomach grow about four sizes as I turn to Cole.

“I should have stayed back at the shop.”

He shakes his head as his hands fall on my shoulders and for the first time in a long time, I don’t wince at a man’s touch. “It’s going to be fine! She’s gonna love you and if she doesn’t, I know Blake will.”

“So, there’s a chance she’s gonna absolutely hate me.” My voice whines softly as Holden scoffs out a laugh.

Holden stands from his bike, takes a step towards me, and leans in. The smell of motor oil and spice mixed with a faint hint of coffee surrounds me, swirling the butterflies in my stomach.

“Just turn on that shining personality, Princess. You’ll be fine.” He smirks, his voice low and graveled as he stands back up.

“I have a name, you know. Unless that brain of yours is too small to figure that out.” I sneer, my face dropping as I stare pointedly at him. I’m tired of him getting in every little dig that he can. It’s driving me insane, along with the fact that whenever he is near me, it’s like there is an electric buzz between us.

Darkening blue eyes stare back at me, narrowing as his tongue drags across his bottom lip before bringing it between his teeth. My eyes track the movement. His lips are plush and pink from the cold but the more he gnaws on it the more I feel myself growing warm.

The corners of his mouth curl upwards slightly as Cole waves a hand between us, “Can you two get along for literally one night?”

“No.” Both of us answer at the same time. Cole rolls his eyes, shaking his head as his hands fall on his hips.

“Well, try.”

He storms off towards the giant wooden door at the front of the house leaving the two of us alone. I narrow my eyes at Holden for a moment as he leans in again.

“You have a staring problem.” He muses softly, his voice warming my skin like the low heat of winter fire.

“I could say the same to you,” I bite back, turning on my heel and heading towards the door. The soft thud of his boots follows behind me, making me extremely aware of the distance between us.

He was like a shadow to me, dark but inviting, making me feel like I wasn’t alone. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad. Holden aggravates me. Even in the small moments I’d spent with him, he irked every nerve in my body. But there’s a part of me that feels this pull towards him. A familiarity in the way we share our anger and the deep-seated pain I can already sense behind his silver eyes. I can see small parts of myself within him, mostly the ones that feel painful and ache when triggered.

Everything he did was to challenge me, make me give in and fold. I’m done folding for people. I’d been a victim in Miami. Everyone I knew turned on me when I tried to tell the truth about Jeremy. About what really happened that night. The threats started after I got home from the hospital, and even though I wanted nothing more than to stand my ground, I was alone.

So, I ran.

Holden never forces me into backing down. It’s like he knows when to ebb and flow with me and how to push my buttons without actually hurting me. I’m thankful for that.

Cole waits for us at the entryway, holding open the wooden door and letting the aroma of freshly baked bread, spices, and something else I can’t quite pinpoint waft around me. I step through the threshold taking in Marlowe’s home. It’s the epitome of warm and cozy. Soft brown leather furniture adorns the open living area, plants hang from various corners and litter tables like mini gardens. Warm lights glow from the modern chandelier above us, and candles flicker gently on the side tables.

I can’t remember the last time I’d been in a place that felt this welcoming.

There are a few men scattered around the living room. Some I recognize from the shop. Scottie and Wyatt lounge back on the giant leather sofa, arguing and chastising each other about something I can’t quite make out. Scottie catches my eyes from his seat, throwing me a soft wink. I smile, tossing one back as the man who sits across from him turns to see who Scottie’s looking at.

Dark brown eyes study me for a moment with a tilt of his head before turning back to the men, seemingly uninterested. Which I’m completely fine with. The last thing I need is to draw any more attention to myself than I already have and I’m not ready to get the third degree from another member of the Hounds.

“Come on,” Cole says softly, leaning into me, jutting his chin towards what I assume is the kitchen judging by the way the smells get stronger as we travel down a side hallway.

As we round the corner, I spot an older woman with long strawberry blonde hair tied off in a loose braid cascading down her back. Her skin glows against the kitchen lights as she moves about, almost floating around the kitchen and tables.

“Let’s get the table set,” her voice commands gently as she stirs one of the pots on the giant stove. “Blake those don’t– No, please stop rearranging the forks and spoons.”

Cole chuckles as we stand in the door. Another woman, this time younger, steps up to the island separating Marlowe from the dining area. She can’t be much older than twenty.

“Haven’t you ever seen Titanic, Ma? The small forks go over here.” Blake points to the edges of the place settings, rearranging the small utensils as she gnaws on her bottom lip. She has long dark hair that is pulled up into a loose bun, and dark tendrils have fallen around her face, but what surprises me the most is the Hell Hounds Prospect patches stitched to the black denim vest she’s wearing.

I glance up at Cole who’s watching the scene with a smirk playing across his lips. I recognize a glint in his eye that I used to see in my father’s as he watches Blake. She means something to him and it transcends a normal friendship.

“Leave it, Blake,” Marlowe warns with a slight raise of her brow, “and Cole, if you’re going to lurk in the doorway at least make yourself useful and help her,” she muses knowingly, even though her back has been turned from us.

Cole laughs this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly as he steps into the kitchen, planting a kiss on the side of Marlowe’s head. “You got it, Ma.”

“Why do we need so many utensils anyway?” Blake asks, throwing her hands up in dramatics, making me smile to myself. Her eyes light up seeing Cole in the kitchen, her eyes going wide as if a light bulb has gone off in her head, “OH! Do you have any sporks? The guys would love that.”

Marlowe shakes her head, handing dishes full of food over to Cole to place on the table.

“Blake, no one uses sporks over the age of five,” he says, shaking his head.

“That’s what you think, old man.” She grins, pointing the end of a butter knife at him before he playfully smacks it away, tugging her to his chest.

He pulls back from the girl, his hands resting on her shoulders as he inspects her. “Don’t think we’re not discussing your little field trip after dinner.”

Blake winces, guilt dripping over her face like a mask before another smile threatens the corners of her lips. “Yeah, yeah,”

I linger in the doorway, turning back to see that Holden has disappeared from behind us. My heart sinks for a moment, almost expecting him to be lingering behind me, watching and waiting to irk me further. Instead, he’d left me alone. Why am I almost sad about that? Why do I even care that he isn’t there in the first place?

I take a deep breath, stepping into the kitchen.

Marlowe glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t have to hide in the shadows, sweetheart. We won’t bite you,” she coos, as if she’s lulling a scared animal from the corner of the room. “Despite what Cole may have warned you about.” She grins, continuing to busy herself with dinner.

“Ma, Blake, this is Kadence. She’s gonna help out with the shop for a while,” he says, stepping towards me. I don’t miss the pointed look Marlowe flashes to him and it’s then that I realize that it’s her who runs the show. Cole may be President and boss, but she is in charge of them.

Blake practically skips over to me as if I’m a new plaything for her. She circles me with a sly grin across her face. “How did Cole convince you to work for him? He’s a horrible boss,” Blake jokes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I am not–” Cole narrows his eyes as he shakes his head.

Blake grins at him, forcing a sigh to leave Cole’s chest as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

I chuckle softly as I tuck my jacket further around me and arms across my chest. I can’t help but shrink in on myself though the house feels warm, Marlowe’s gaze on me is chilling. It doesn’t leave me the entire time Blake goads Cole and I know I’m not going to be able to escape it.

As the night goes on, Marlowe ushers the men to the table, forcing them all to sit like one large happy family. There’s a place set next to Cole for me. I’m thankful because it’s currently where I feel the safest.

Holden sits across from me and the man from earlier is next to him. I keep my gaze focused on my food as Blake rambles on about anything and everything motorcycle related, she can think of. She jokes and laughs with the guys, tossing back insults and jabs right at them as they mess with her. It’s obvious she can handle herself around them. Her personality lights up the room like Christmas lights and I envy that about her.

I push my food around my plate, picking at small bites here and there as I take in all the conversations happening around me. I can feel eyes on me, studying me and it only brews the anxiety in my stomach. The food becomes more and more unappetizing, not for the fact that it doesn’t taste good, it’s amazing, and it’s the first time that I’ve eaten a home-cooked meal that isn’t my own in years.

The longer I feel the stares on me, the more aware I become that despite having Cole next to me as a buffer, I’m still a stranger. These people don't know me and I don’t know them. There isn’t any trust here and suddenly I feel like I’m intruding on what I can only assume is one of their most intimate times.

The need to leave creeps into my veins and nerves like a virus. My leg bounces gently under the table as, one by one, the guys begin to leave. Plates and platters start to slowly disappear as Marlowe and Blake clear them.

“You good?” I hear Cole’s voice cut through the tension building within me.

I turn toward him, my leg still bouncing and hands wringing together in my lap. “Yeah,” I mutter softly, my lips pressing into a line to fake a smile.

“You sure? Because you look like you’re about to run.”

I suck in a breath as the room suddenly freezes. I glance up, watching as Holden steps into the hallway, disappearing into the dark corridor, and the man with dark hair, who sat next to him, leans back into his chair. The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly as if amused by my nervousness.

It’s seeping out of me onto the table by this point. I watch as his fingers drum along the body of his beer bottle. “Where did you come from, Kiddo?” His voice gravels through me.

Cole shifts in his seat, knowing that I’m not going to give a straight answer, but his attention turns towards me expectantly. Is this his true intention? To bring me here knowing that I wouldn’t be able to escape the prying eyes and probing questions his friends would have?

“I’m from the East Coast,” I force out. It’s not a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either.

The man’s lips upturn as he nods, “East Coast, huh?”

Cole sits back in his chair like it’s his turn to be amused and it’s the first time in forty-eight hours that the small amount of comfort I had around him slinks away.

“Wolfe, leave the poor girl alone. She doesn’t need you interrogating her.” Marlowe’s voice settles over the table as she grabs a few more plates. “Now, make yourself useful and help me with these dishes.”

Wolfe.

I lock eyes with Marlowe’s knowing gaze as if she can read every secret I have like they’re written on my forehead.

Wolfe’s eyes darken and he narrows them at me before standing. Great , I think. The empty and drafty apartment above the garage is starting to feel more welcoming the longer I sit here.

I stand, glancing down at Cole. “Where’s the bathroom?” I ask softly.

“Down the hallway, third door on the left.”

“Thanks,” I mutter. It takes everything in me not to run out of the room.

I don’t really need to use the bathroom. I just need a reason to leave and not have Cole hover over me.

I follow the long hallway until it opens up into the living room. I find Scottie sitting with a few of the other men along the couches and side chairs, looking as if they are discussing something I definitely am not privy to.

It only makes my chest tighten that much more, and the overwhelming feeling that I don’t belong sinks further into my bones.

I slide the tall glass door open. A chilled breeze surrounds me as I step out onto an expansive concrete patio. I finally let out a breath I’m not aware I’m holding. The autumn air burns my lungs as I suck in another breath, trying anything I can to get my nerves to calm themselves.

My body vibrates with anxiety. Every atom is bouncing around my insides like they’re trying to escape, and in a way, it makes sense. Everything is screaming at me to leave, to get away from the pack of men inside, to get out of this town and the more I stand here, taking in deep breaths, the more stuck I feel.

“Heat gettin’ to ya, Princess?”

I slide my eyes closed, sucking in a breath through my nose as his voice drifts from my left.

“You won’t be able to hide forever, ya know,” he taunts. “One day all those little secrets you’re keeping are going to spill out of you. Or worse…” He pauses and the soft thud of his boots once again surrounds me, encroaching on me as my eyes squeeze further shut, almost willing him to disappear. “...you’ll get someone killed.”

“Stop it,” I whisper, having had enough.

I peel my eyes open, turning my head to see Holden standing next to me, facing me as he puffs on a cigarette. Taking one last long drag, letting it linger on his lips as his lungs fill with smoke.

The smug look on his face falls when our eyes connect and he must have finally caught a glimpse of the fear behind my green eyes.

He drops the cigarette and my eyes follow watching as the ash crackles against the ground into tiny little embers before the toe of his boot snubs it out.

“Why do you do that?” I ask, ignoring how small my voice sounds as my gaze returns to his.

Holden’s brow furrows for a moment. “Because you aren’t alone, Kadence.” His voice drops like he’s sharing a secret with me and no one else was supposed to know. “Everyone has secrets and yours aren’t special.”

I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, gnawing as he takes the smallest step towards me. He’s close enough now that the heat of his body radiates off of him. I take a step backward, and he takes another step towards me.

I feel my back hit the cold logs of the house. He’s testing me. Pushing to see just how far he can get under my skin.

I want to push back. To shove him away from me, but the closer he moves in on me the more the pull I feel towards him grows.

“Are you scared of me Kadence?” He asks, but it's not to be cruel. There is a hint of something in his voice that makes me wonder if he is worried that I actually am.

“No,” I lie. I am scared of him. Not scared that he’d hurt me physically but scared that he is slowly destroying the wall I built around myself, around my heart.

The heat of his breath fans across my face sending a wave of goosebumps down my spine. I can see the blue in his eyes because of the moonlight shining between us; they’re bluer than I remember, with tiny green flecks, and the small smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks are more apparent now.

Holden leans in a little further to me, tilting his head to catch my gaze again under the brim of his baseball cap. I can hear the soft jingle of the dog tags around his neck as he moves.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he whispers, his lips hovering just above my own.

It only takes a moment to realize that my fingers are now clutched around the buttons of the dark Henley he wears, tugging gently at the collar until they tangle in the chain of his tags. My mouth begins to feel like cotton as he gently nudges my nose with his own. Careful only to touch the parts of me he can see, his hands plant on either side of my head, caging me in.

“You scare me, but not in the way you think you do.” My head goes foggy as our eyes meet again.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he rasps.

My lips part and his eyes catch the movement as I will myself to protest his comment but I can’t. He isn’t wrong and now a tiny part of me wishes I hadn’t.

Holden’s eyes dart over my face. “Tell me to stop,” he breathes.

My fingers tighten around his chain, tugging as I shake my head softly.

He only hesitates for a moment before slotting his lips over mine, slow and tentative at first, but as I pull him closer, he gains a little more confidence that I’m not going to change my mind.

And I wouldn’t.

The moment our lips meet an explosion of fireworks goes off in my stomach.

His tongue teases my bottom lip, silently asking permission to dance with my own. I whimper as his body presses against mine and I part my lips to let him in. He tastes like whiskey and smoke. It’s addicting. He is addicting.

The more I lean into him, the less I want it to stop. Both of us fighting for control over the other makes my mind swim with the idea of what his hands would feel like gliding across my skin. Molding me to him.

I pull back slightly to catch my breath. My chest heaves as his eyes search my face again. The blue is only a small sliver now compared to before with how dark his pupils have gotten.

My free hand rises, grasping his wrist gently, squeezing and hoping that he’ll understand my silent plea for more.

Holden trails his hand along the wood, his fingers dancing along the collar of my jacket as they slide behind my neck. Slowly and softly, they wrap around me, tangling into my hair. I let go of his wrist but reach for his lips, touching them so softly that if they weren’t burning and kiss-bitten, it feels like I'm barely touching him at all.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he says against my touch, surprising me.

The lust in his darkened eyes has been replaced with something else as I stare up at him, shaking my head, “I don’t want to be either.”

He dips his head again, pressing his lips against mine without hesitation. Holden tugs my body closer to his with a groan, his other hand dropping from my neck around to my lower back.

Everything he touches feels like it’s on fire, burning with the heat building in my core. I feel his knee slide between my thighs, practically holding me up. A moan falls from my lips that he’s quick to swallow.

My anxiety from tonight slowly begins to fade away with the slow and calculated movement of his lips. I still feel like running, I’m worried that now it’s always going to be ingrained in my bones to want to run.

Holden pulls away this time, “I want to leave, and I want you to come with me.”

“To where?”

He shrugs, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. “Anywhere but here.”

I smile softly. He’s giving me the chance to run and at this moment I don’t care that he’s with me. I welcome it.

“Okay,” I breathe.

The smile on his face grows as he releases his hold on me and it’s the first time that the hardened soul behind his eyes disappears. His fingers lace with mine as he pulls me along the edge of the house as if he’d snuck out of these dinners a million times. I don’t doubt that he has.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, making me stop with Holden turning back towards me. I haven’t had any notifications all day. I figure it’s just Maria checking in on me. Easy enough, I’ll text her back, tell her I’m fine, and call her in the morning.

I pull my phone out, glancing down at the notification.

My heart drops at the name.

[Mom]: You’ll never guess who I had lunch with today! Jeremy says he misses you.

[Mom]: Kadie, when are you going to stop this foolishness and come home? What you’re doing isn’t fair to Jeremy or me .

She had lunch with him? My stomach feels like it’s in my throat. What’s wrong with her? She had lunch with him like he’s a friend. Like he isn’t the one who had put me in the hospital. Like he isn’t–

“What is it?” Holden asks, concern dripping from his words.

My phone buzzes again and this time I really feel like I’m going to vomit.

“Kadence,” he says, taking a step towards me as tears prick at the corner of my eyes.

[Unknown Number]: I’ll find you Princess. You can’t run forever.