THE BROKEN NOTE

REDWOOD KINGS BOOK THREE

NELIA ALARCON
 CONTENTS

Written By Nelia Alarcon

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
A Word From The Author
Also by Nelia Alarcon
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, locations and incidents are the products
of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, locales, or events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means,
including but not limited to printing, file sharing and email without the prior written permission of
Nelia Alarcon.

Copyright © 2022 Nelia Alarcon

All rights reserved.
 WRITTEN BY NELIA AL ARCON

THE REDWOOD KINGS Series

The Darkest Note
The Ruthless Note
The Broken Note

The Plutonian Warrior’s Series

The Alien Warrior’s Mate
The Alien Warrior’s Woman
The Alien Warrior’s Heart
The Alien Warrior’s Vow

Mates Of The Plutonians

Made For The Alien Warrior
ABOUT THIS BOOK

This cruel king won’t stop until he makes a queen of me.

Dutch Cross is rich, powerful, and possessive.

 I gave him too much of me and now it’s too late to run.
Yet it’s what I do.
Far, far from the villain of the story.
But the thing about villains is…
They always drag you back to the dark.
And when a secret that should have stayed buried rises from the grave, I
have no choice but to join hands with the enemy.
Lust.
Desire.
Deception.
The very boy who destroyed me is now my only salvation.
There are more beasts at Redwood than I can count.
But I didn’t fight my way into this elite world just to leave with nothing.
I’ve been broken into something stronger and I have Redwood’s cruel
prince in the palm of my hand.
They think I’m weak and powerless? Fine.
I’ll bend all the monsters to my will and show Redwood what a queen
looks like.
CAPÍTULO UNO

CADENCE

—Mamá.

Su nombre se desliza de mis labios con un leve temblor, acompañado por una oleada de
náusea. Mis dedos se aferran con fuerza al marco de la puerta—el mismo que Hunter me
ayudó a reparar hace un par de fines de semana.

La cerradura arreglada. La salida asegurada. El cambio que, sin saberlo, atrajo a mamá de
vuelta de las sombras.

Si lo hubiera sabido, quizás ni me habría molestado.

—Hija.

Mamá inclina la cabeza con lentitud.

La sala de estar queda sumida en un silencio aún más denso mientras me observa. Ojos
marrones. Cabello castaño. Labios pintados de un rojo profundo, el color de la sangre seca.
Como las costras que solía arrancarme con obsesión cuando era niña.

Mi piel comienza a picar.

Oigo las notas elevándose en mi mente.

Re sostenido mayor.

La tonalidad más melancólica de la música.

La banda sonora perfecta para el regreso de mamá.

Ella se levanta del sofá con la misma actitud de siempre, con esa elegancia fingida, ese porte
regio que nunca ha perdido, aunque estemos en la ruina más absoluta.

Solía ser hermosa. Una reina de belleza, solía presumir. Gané el certamen de Miss Teen.

Uno de sus muchos cuentos.

Los adictos son alérgicos a la verdad.

Lo que realmente ganó fue la lotería genética. Pero, como aquellos que derrochan su fortuna y
terminan peor que antes, la belleza de mamá se ha convertido en algo desesperado. Como una
cuerda gastada, sosteniendo con dificultad lo poco que queda de su atractivo.

Bajo el peso de sus malas decisiones, las grietas siempre acaban por mostrarse.

Ni el maquillaje ni una sonrisa bien ensayada pueden ocultarlas.

—¿Qué haces aquí? —mi voz es afilada como una cuchilla. A pesar de ello, mi uña raspa la
pintura brillante del picaporte. El tacón de mis zapatos golpea el suelo mientras mi rodilla
tiembla sin control.

—Encontré esto bajo tu cama.

Mamá levanta dos dedos. Entre ellos, un condón dorado.

Mi corazón se estrella contra mis costillas.

Una avalancha de imágenes me golpea con fuerza.

Dutch, con sus ojos ámbar ardiendo mientras gruñía: Quítate la ropa y ábrete de piernas.

Dutch sujetando mi rostro, besándome. Lo estás haciendo bien, Cadey. Relájate, bebé. Se
siente increíble.

Dutch hundiéndose dentro de mí, llenándome con una mezcla de dolor y placer tan intensa que
pensé que me rompería.

Mis músculos se tensan y, sin darme cuenta, mi mano roza mi falda escolar, justo sobre el
moretón más profundo en mi cadera. La fuerza de sus manos al sujetarme dejó marcas por todo
mi cuerpo. Marcas que traspasaron mi piel y llegaron hasta mi alma.

Mamá arquea una ceja.

—Ya veo.

Una sonrisa lenta y burlona se extiende por su rostro.

—Bien por ti, Cadey. Pensé que serías una mojigata toda tu vida. Me haces sentir orgullosa.

Es instantáneo.

Sus palabras destrozan los recuerdos.

Los retuercen, los manchan, los convierten en algo vulgar. En algo sucio. En algo asqueroso.
Todo lo hermoso se desmorona en sus manos corrompidas. No debería haber esperado otra
cosa. Y, sin embargo, lo único que quiero hacer es meterme en la ducha y restregarme hasta
que mi piel sangre.

—¿Fue tu primera vez?

Mis ojos se elevan hasta los suyos.

¿No puede verlo? ¿No puede notar que estoy incómoda? Que estoy furiosa. Que me estoy
desmoronando por dentro.

¿O sí lo ve y simplemente no le importa?

Siempre me lo he preguntado.

¿Es así de ignorante o así de cruel?

Los ojos marrones de mamá brillan con emoción. Solía mirarme así cuando llegaba el día de
pago y tenía a su dealer en espera.

—Oh, puedo notar que fue doloroso. Pobrecita. Siempre es horrible la primera vez.
Especialmente si él no sabe cómo complacer a una mujer. La próxima vez será mejor. Una vez
que sepas lo que te gusta…

—Te dije que no volvieras aquí —le espeto.

Las palabras mueren en su boca.

Se queda inmóvil, y un destello de algo cruel cruza sus ojos.

En un parpadeo, desaparece, y vuelve su sonrisa fingida.

—¿Por qué no vendría? Esta es mi casa.

—¿Tu casa? —suelto una risa amarga—. Rick y yo somos los que pagamos la renta y
mantenemos las luces encendidas. ¿Qué has hecho tú, mamá?

—Cadey…

La corto con un gesto afilado.

—Te dejé quedarte el fin de semana porque Viola no estaba en casa. Ya es lunes. La escuela
terminará pronto. No quiero que ella te vea.

—Oh, relájate, Cadey —chista—. Te dejé gritarme todo lo que quisiste este fin de semana.
¿Todavía no lo superas?
—¿Superarlo? —mis ojos se abren de par en par.

No debería dejar que me afecte. Debería apartarla y dejarlo pasar.

Pero es una experta en meterse bajo la piel. Empuja justo en las heridas más profundas. Es
instintivo reaccionar. Exigir justicia cuando alguien presiona una herida abierta.

—¿Qué se supone que debo superar, mamá? —siseo—. ¿El hecho de que fingiste tu propia
muerte? ¿El hecho de que me arrastraste a tu ridículo “suicidio”? ¿Que me hiciste mentirle a la
policía y quemar el cadáver de una pobre mujer?

—Ese cadáver era una Jane Doe verificada —señala con un dedo—. Y ¿por qué no gritas un
poco más fuerte para que escuche todo el edificio?

Doy un paso amenazante hacia ella y se encoge un poco.

—No me importa por qué tenías que morir ni me interesa por qué ahora estás viva otra vez,
pero, por el bien de mi hermana, necesitas seguir muerta. Al menos hasta que encuentre una
forma de explicarle esto a Viola.

—¿Explicarme qué?

Una voz dulce resuena detrás de mí, enviando un escalofrío por mi espalda.

No.

Viola no puede estar aquí.

No ahora. No con mamá en la sala de estar como un maldito fantasma vuelto a la vida.

Pensamientos frenéticos me bombardean.

Busco desesperadamente una solución.

Pero es inútil.

Mamá se adelanta primero. Y cuando se desliza a través de la puerta para revelarse, siento el
desastre acercándose.

Huele a caos.

Huele al fin de todo lo que he tratado de proteger.

 CAPÍTULO DOS

CADENCE

Llamo a Dutch.

No porque quiera.

De hecho, es la última persona con la que quiero hablar en este

momento.

Especialmente después de… esa noche.

Pero no tengo opción.

Mi hermana ha desaparecido.

—¿Has visto a Viola? —pregunto con urgencia, tratando de mantener la

calma y fracasando en el intento.

La noche ha caído. Las sombras son densas en mi barrio. Nubes oscuras

cubren las estrellas, y cuando levanto la vista, todo lo que veo es una
neblina pesada.

—¿Vi? No.

Suena sorprendido.
 —Si la ves, llámame de inmediato —suplico. Estoy desesperada.
Ansiosa. Mi voz tiembla, pero no me importa.

Viola ha desaparecido.

Hace cuatro horas, pensaba que nuestra madre estaba muerta. Ahora,
mamá está caminando, hablando y dando vueltas en nuestras vidas como
solía hacerlo.

No sé qué podría hacer una adolescente impulsiva, en estado de shock,

furiosa y frustrada.

¿Gritar?
¿Enfurecerse?
¿Hacer un berrinche?

Bien.

Que lo haga.

Conmigo.

Contra mí.

No me importa.

Solo quiero que esté a salvo.

Viola es la persona más importante en el mundo para mí. Si la pierdo…

No. No voy a pensar en eso.

Si le pasa algo, si un solo cabello de su cabeza sufre daño, será mi

culpa.
 —Por favor —añado, con los dedos temblando, casi dejando caer el
teléfono—. Por favor. Si te llama, dime.

—Brahms, ¿dónde estás? —La voz de Dutch es un acero envuelto en

terciopelo.

Mi corazón se acelera.

Mi mente está nublada.

Una ansiedad persistente florece en mi estómago. Cada parte de mí arde

con preocupación.

Viola, ¿dónde estás?

—¡Cadence! —Dutch dice mi nombre con más fuerza.

Regreso en mí.

—Estoy… —tomo una bocanada de aire inestable—. Estoy frente a la

tienda de conveniencia de mi barrio.

—Quédate ahí.

Frunzo el ceño y me enderezo de inmediato.

—No voy a quedarme aquí. Necesito encontrar a mi hermana.

—Maldita sea, Cadey. Quiero ayudar.

—No necesito tu ayuda.

—Y no me importa. Voy a buscarte. No discutas conmigo.

 Oigo el sonido de una puerta abrirse y cerrarse. Un momento después,
la voz baja de Dutch se mezcla con otra.

¿Uno de sus hermanos?

Mi teléfono vibra con un mensaje.

Cuelgo y lo reviso de inmediato.

No es Viola.

Breeze: No la encontré en el centro comercial.

Cadence: ¿Crees que haya ido a tu casa?
Breeze: Ya le pregunté a mi mamá. Vi no está allí.

Aprieto los dientes y cierro los ojos con fuerza, luchando por
mantenerme entera. El mundo se tambalea en los bordes, crujiendo como
papel sostenido sobre una llama.

Desintegrándose.

Poco a poco.

Vi, por favor, dime que estás bien.

Mis opciones se están agotando. Vi no está en el centro comercial—su

lugar favorito en el mundo. Tampoco en el parque ni en la biblioteca. Si no
está con sus amigos, ni con Breeze, ni con sus nuevos compañeros The
Kings, entonces…

No lo sé.

He chocado contra un muro.

 Las lágrimas de frustración presionan contra mis ojos.

Me duelen los pies. He estado caminando durante horas,

preguntándome si tal vez Vi está escondida en algún lugar cercano.

Dejó su celular en la entrada más temprano y no tiene mucho dinero. Al

menos, no lo suficiente para irse muy lejos.

Pero estar cerca de casa trae sus propios peligros.

Ahora que ha caído la noche, aquellos que prefieren jugar en la

oscuridad están saliendo de sus escondites.

Disparos. Víctimas.

No hay necesidad de ser humano cuando el sol se ha puesto y tus

pecados quedan ocultos en la negrura.

Si Vi se topa con algún tipo buscando problemas…

Mi estómago se revuelve.

Ignoro el dolor en mis pies y empiezo a correr, alejándome de la luz de

la tienda de conveniencia y adentrándome en un callejón oscuro.

Por favor, Vi, que estés bien. Por favor, por favor, por favor.

Salgo del callejón y noto un grupo de tipos reunidos en la esquina de la

calle.

El humo de cigarrillo se exhala de sus bocas y se ríen con fuerza.

Las alarmas en mi cabeza suenan con fuerza.

 Observo al grupo con cautela.

Puedo decir, con solo una mirada, que son peligrosos.

Ojos duros. Sonrisas frías.

Criminales sin escrúpulos.

El miedo corre por mis venas.

Me giro en la otra dirección, sabiendo que es mejor no cruzarme con

ellos.

Vi, dime que no te encontraste con alguien como ellos.

La farola sobre mí parpadea cuando acelero el paso.

Unos pasos suenan detrás de mí.

Mierda.

Mi cuerpo se tensa.

El instinto de lucha o huida se activa.

Clavo los dedos en mi falda y aumento mi velocidad.

Los pasos se aceleran detrás de mí.

Mi corazón golpea contra mis costillas y muerdo mi labio inferior para

sofocar el pánico creciente.

¿Qué puedo usar como arma?

 Trago saliva mientras palpo mi falda.

Nada.

Salí corriendo del apartamento con solo mi celular.

Miro al suelo, buscando un ladrillo o una roca que pueda agarrar y usar,
pero no hay nada.

Ni siquiera una botella de cerveza que pueda romper en sus cabezas.

Una sombra alta se extiende frente a mí.

Dios… están muy cerca.

Mis hombros se tensan hasta las orejas.

No puedo dejar que me arrastren.

No cuando todavía no he encontrado a Viola.

La sombra se alarga.

Mi perseguidor está a punto de atraparme.

Espero hasta que pone una mano en mi hombro y entonces empujo mi

codo hacia atrás con toda la fuerza que tengo.

Conecto con su estómago.

Suelta un leve quejido y su agarre en mí se afloja.

No me detengo a evaluar el daño.

 Corro.

Pero una mano atrapa mi muñeca y, en un instante, me estrello contra la

pared de un edificio de ladrillo.

CAPÍTULO TRES

DUTCH

Me mantengo en silencio mientras mis hermanos, Sol y yo escoltamos a

Cadence por las peligrosas calles del sur de la ciudad.

No digo nada cuando la veo cojeando, entrando y saliendo de tiendas de

conveniencia y cibercafés. Metiéndose en gimnasios de secundaria,
deslizándose bajo cercas de alambre y colándose en edificios cubiertos de
grafitis.

No digo nada cuando Sol sugiere que nos dividamos, ni cuando, en un

movimiento estúpido, se ofrece a acompañarla.

Como si yo fuera a permitirlo.

 Y Cadey, que no es tonta, lo rechaza de inmediato.

Luego insiste en que estará mejor sola.

No es la idea más brillante que ha tenido.

Los dos sabemos que eso no es una opción.

—No tienes que venir conmigo —murmura, avanzando con pasos

rápidos a pesar de la evidente cojera.

Es tarde.

Tan tarde que cualquiera que nos vea en la calle no mirará nuestras
caras, sino los relojes en nuestras muñecas, los zapatos en nuestros pies, los
símbolos de dólares en nuestras ropas.

Nos mantenemos en las calles principales, donde hay algunas luces de

farolas y bares abiertos. Es fácil imaginar lo que pasaría si nos metiéramos
en los callejones oscuros a esta hora.

Callejones oscuros.

Como el que encontré a Cadence hace un rato.

El recuerdo de su miedo, de verla correr asustada, hace que mis puños

se cierren con frustración.

Lo retiro.

Definitivamente no es una chica lista.

 —Puedo manejarlo sola —insiste, pero su voz suena débil. Sus ojos
están entrecerrados, sus labios presionados. Su rostro está pálido por el
dolor que trata de esconder.

—¿De verdad? —levanto la barbilla, mi tono es frío, afilado, peligroso

—. Atrévete a decirlo otra vez.

Cualquier otra persona temblaría.

Cualquier otra chica retrocedería.

Cadey no.

Mi tono solo aviva el fuego en ella. Se detiene de golpe en la acera y se

gira con una explosión de cabello largo y furia contenida.

—No me importa que me sigas, pero no voy a aguantar que me gruñas y

empeores una situación que ya es una mierda. Si vas a estar así, mejor vete.

Me quedo quieto, las manos en los bolsillos de mis jeans, mientras ella
me roba el aire de los pulmones. Solo con una mirada, con una chispa en
sus ojos marrones, me tiene atrapado otra vez.

Maldición.

Así que tanto espacio como pude darle después de aquella noche
fueron… ¿qué? ¿Doce horas?

Y eso fue todo lo que pude soportar.

Esta chica, con su cabello alborotado, su blusa abotonada hasta el cuello

y su falda de Redwood Prep a mitad del muslo, va a ser mi maldita
obsesión de por vida.
 Cuanto antes lo acepte, más fácil será todo.

Doy un paso hacia ella.

Se echa ligeramente hacia atrás, insegura.

—Dutch…

Me agacho.

—No lo hagas…

Con un solo movimiento, paso un brazo por su espalda y el otro bajo

sus piernas, levantándola del suelo.

Cadence suelta un chillido y se agita, perdiendo el equilibrio.

La acomodo contra mi pecho, sujetándola firmemente.

—¡Bájame!

Ajusto el agarre en su espalda.

Su forma de retorcerse es una distracción peligrosa. Su cuerpo se

desliza contra el mío, y mi sangre empieza a hervir.

Cierro los dedos sobre ella con más fuerza, obligándome a

concentrarme. Si dejo que mis instintos tomen el control, no podré seguir
con esto.

—¿Por qué tu hermana estaba molesta esta noche? —gruño, mi corazón

latiendo con fuerza.

No puedo evitarlo.
 Cuando Cadey está cerca de mí, mi cuerpo entra en caos.

Respiro hondo, obligándome a mantener la calma, y añado:

—¿Discutieron?

—No, pero… —su expresión se ensombrece, su mirada se pierde. Sus

labios tiemblan antes de susurrar—: Es complicado.

CAPÍTULO CUATRO

CADENCE

Tiemblo durante todo el camino de regreso a casa. Dutch se encoge de

hombros y se quita la chaqueta, colocándola sobre mí, pero ni siquiera el
calor de su cuero logra calmar el frío que se me ha metido hasta los huesos.

Viola está en el asiento trasero.

Echo un vistazo por el espejo retrovisor. Pasamos bajo una farola y la luz
ilumina su pequeño rostro. Ojos endurecidos como piedras. Labios
apretados en una fina línea. Su cabello oscuro recogido en una coleta
desordenada.

Está furiosa, pero está a salvo.

Y eso es mejor que la alternativa.

Mis dientes castañetean.

Mi corazón late con fuerza.

Todo ha salido bien, pero hay una sensación persistente en el fondo de mi

estómago. Como si encontrar a Viola hubiera sido solo un calentamiento,
un simple obstáculo antes de la verdadera tormenta.

Tengo la sensación de que perderla fue solo el modo fácil del juego.

Ahora viene lo difícil.

Puede que me equivoque. Puede que solo sea mi pesimismo crónico

haciéndome creer que el cielo está a punto de caer.

Pero si algo he aprendido en esta vida es que cada vez que me pasa algo
bueno, lo sigue algo aún peor.

Siempre.

El golpe final siempre me aplasta.

Pero tal vez esta vez sea diferente.

Tal vez encontrar a Viola fue el único problema que enfrentaré en un buen
tiempo.
Tal vez todo va a estar bien.

Me estremezco de nuevo y me entierro más bajo la chaqueta de Dutch.

Él reduce la velocidad cuando llegamos a nuestro edificio de apartamentos.

La luz de la cocina está encendida.

Una sombra mueve la cortina. Es apenas perceptible, pero lo veo.

Mamá todavía está aquí.

Aprieto los dientes y me quito la chaqueta de los hombros.

Adiós a la calma después de la tormenta. Fue estúpido de mi parte pensar

siquiera que podría tomar un respiro.

—Quédate con ella —dice Dutch, cerrando los dedos sobre la chaqueta
cuando intento devolvérsela.

Por un segundo, hay calor.

Por un segundo, me permito la idea de que tal vez podría sobrevivir a todo
esto.

Fantasías absurdas.

No hay razón para dejar que alguien me mime o cuide de mí. ¿Por qué
demonios debería acostumbrarme a eso? Especialmente si viene de alguien
como él.

Oscuro. Implacable. Un depredador con ojos dorados y manos que tocan

como si fueran magia.
Conozco a Dutch.

Está a un paso de convertirse en un monstruo.

Lo noté toda la noche.

Rabia contenida bajo la superficie, tan cerca de su piel como los tatuajes en
sus brazos.

Incluso los tipos peligrosos de mi barrio sabían que no debían acercarse

demasiado.

Y no es solo Dutch, sino todo lo que lo rodea.

Pienso en la propuesta de Jarod Cross y me empieza a doler la cabeza.

Dutch es una complicación en mi vida. Una que no necesito. No con todo lo

que ya estoy cargando.

—Estoy bien.

Empujo la chaqueta sobre su regazo.

—Viola, vamos.

Mi hermana abre la puerta de golpe y la azota tan fuerte que todo el auto se
sacude.

Se me escapa un jadeo.

No puedo pagar ni un rasguño en este auto. ¿Qué demonios está pensando?

Aprieto los puños y le lanzo una mirada furiosa a través de la ventana.

Pero ni siquiera se da cuenta.

Su coleta oscila de un lado a otro mientras sube corriendo las escaleras y

desaparece de la vista.

Salgo apresurada para seguirla.

La puerta del auto de Dutch se cierra con un golpe sordo en la noche

estrellada. Un instante después, está a mi lado. Sus dedos se enredan en los
míos.

De nuevo, siento ese calor.

De nuevo, siento que algo encaja en su lugar. Como si él se estuviera

incrustando dentro de mí, en algún lugar donde no puedo alcanzarlo para
sacarlo.

Me atrae hacia él, hundiéndome contra su pecho. Sus brazos me envuelven.

Manos grandes y firmes descansando en mi espalda y mi cintura.

Me sujeta con fuerza, tan cerca que puedo oler su colonia amaderada.

El calor contra mi piel se desliza hasta mis venas.

El calor que traté tan desesperadamente de ignorar empieza a derretirme de

adentro hacia afuera.

—No sé qué está pasando —susurra Dutch—. Y no tienes que decírmelo,

pero estoy aquí para ti.

Sus palabras son suaves, pero su agarre es firme.

Maldita sea.
Maldita, maldita, maldita sea.

No quiero sentir nada.

Quiero estar entumecida.

Quiero estar sola.

Cuidar de alguien más significa tomar más de mí misma para dárselo a otra
persona. Y no me quedan piezas para dar.

No ahora.

Ni nunca.

Por un breve segundo, me permito ser sostenida.

Y luego lo aparto.

El peso de su mirada me presiona. Sé que me está observando. Que intenta

descifrarme.

Me pregunto qué es lo que ve cuando me mira.

Una chica desaliñada. Cubierta de barro. Magullada. Sangrando.

Cualquiera que sea el juego que esté jugando conmigo, no tengo energía
para descifrarlo.

Sin decir una palabra, lo dejo en la acera y subo corriendo las escaleras.

La puerta de entrada está abierta.

Viola está ahí, congelada en el umbral.

Toda la calidez que Dutch me hizo sentir se desvanece de golpe.

Acelero el paso, preguntándome qué escena desastrosa la ha dejado

paralizada.

El momento en que llego a su lado y miro dentro del departamento, también

me quedo inmóvil.

Mamá ha puesto la mesa.

Tres platos. Tres tenedores. Tres porciones de espaguetis.

Bebidas frías. Probablemente Kool-Aid de limonada rosa, el que estábamos

guardando para celebrar algo.

Nos sonríe.

Es una de sus sonrisas bonitas, de esas que arrugan la comisura de sus ojos
y la hacen parecer menos una adicta traicionera y más una madre de
televisión.

De esas con delantales floreados, besos en la frente y cero traumas de la

infancia que cicatrizar.

Siento un nudo apretado entre mis costillas al verla.

—¿Qué hacen ahí paradas? —pregunta mamá, sacando una silla en la

cabecera de la mesa—. Deben de estar hambrientas. Siéntense y coman.

Noto cómo la piel de Viola se eriza.

Es comprensible.
En su mente, mamá estaba muerta. ¿Por qué habría de dudarlo?

Vimos su cuerpo arder.

La sostuve mientras lloraba sin parar durante días, derramando tantas

lágrimas que temí que muriera de deshidratación.

Nos acostumbramos a ser huérfanas.

A vivir sin padres.

A estar solas.

Sobrevivimos.

Y ahora mamá está aquí, en nuestra sala de estar, fingiendo que todo es
normal.

Fingiendo que todo está bien.

Fingiendo que esto no es completamente jodido.

CAPÍTULO CINCO

CADENCE
Mi teléfono vibra, pero no miro la pantalla.

Mamá está sentada frente a mí. Viola está a mi lado.

El silencio es tan profundo que puedo escuchar mi propia respiración

agitada, el aire rasposo entrando y saliendo de mis pulmones.

—¿Qué pasó aquella noche, mamá? —Viola susurra. Su voz es suave,

pero cargada de una intensidad contenida—. ¿Qué fue lo que ocurrió el
año pasado?

Mamá se lleva un cigarrillo a los labios y exhala una bocanada de humo

antes de responder.

—Esa noche… decidí tomar un atajo cuando escuché gritos y sonidos

de lucha.

Viola se inclina ligeramente hacia adelante, aferrándose a cada palabra.

Yo, en cambio, me mantengo tensa.

—Debí haber salido corriendo, pero no lo hice. Muy estúpido de mi

parte. Así que hice lo segundo mejor: me escondí detrás de un
contenedor de basura y me quedé en silencio.

Mamá toma otra calada de su cigarro.

Viola apenas parpadea.

—Cuando todo quedó en silencio, pensé que la pelea había terminado y

que los tipos se habían ido.

—¿Y entonces? —Viola traga saliva.

—Me equivoqué.

Los ojos de mamá se pierden en la distancia, como si estuviera

reviviendo la escena en su mente.

—Ahí estaba él. Cubierto de sangre. Con un cuchillo en la mano.

Parecía el mismo diablo encarnado. Y estaba mirándome fijamente.

Viola se estremece.

Yo, en cambio, frunzo el ceño.

No sé si creo en su historia.

No sé si creo en nada de lo que dice.

Pero Viola está completamente absorta.

—Si viste un asesinato, ¿por qué no fuiste a la policía? ¿Por qué huir y
fingir tu muerte? —Viola pregunta, su voz temblorosa pero firme.

La inocencia aún brilla en sus ojos.

Una chispa de esperanza infantil que no quiero que desaparezca.

Mamá suspira con pesadez y apaga el cigarro, aplastándolo contra un

cenicero improvisado.

—Sabes cuál es mi historial —dice, su tono impregnado de falsa

resignación—. He entrado y salido de rehabilitación tantas veces que
nadie me habría creído. La policía no confía en personas como yo. Y no
podía arriesgarme.

Hace una pausa, dejando que sus palabras se asienten.

Luego, añade con un dramatismo calculado:

—¿Y si ese hombre iba tras ustedes dos? No parecía el tipo de persona
que deja testigos.

Mis dientes rechinan.

Mamá finge preocupación, pero su actuación no me convence.

Viola, sin embargo, parece conmocionada.

—Entonces… ¿creíste que fingir tu muerte era la única manera de

mantenernos a salvo?

—Exactamente.

Mamá le sonríe, como si estuviera orgullosa de su supuesta nobleza.

Me doy cuenta de que este es su juego.

Siempre ha sabido cómo manipular a Viola.

Siempre ha sabido qué botones presionar.

—Pero si la situación era tan peligrosa, ¿cómo es que ahora estás aquí?
—Viola pregunta, con una chispa de duda en su voz—. ¿No sigue
siendo peligroso?

Mamá se encoge de hombros.

—Ya no soy un problema para él. Pude haber ido a la policía en

cualquier momento, pero no lo hice. El caso ya está cerrado. No hay
testigos. Estoy libre y limpia.
Miro sus manos.

Se frotan una contra la otra.

Se rasca el antebrazo.

Yo sé lo que eso significa.

Está necesitando otra dosis.

El cigarro no es suficiente para calmarla.

—¿Estás segura? —Viola insiste, todavía con un atisbo de escepticismo

—. Suena demasiado fácil.

—Estoy completamente segura.

Mamá evita nuestra mirada.

Sus dedos tamborilean sobre la mesa, inquietos.

Algo no encaja.

No nos ha dicho toda la verdad.

—Vi, es tarde —digo, mirando mi reloj—. Será difícil levantarnos

mañana para la escuela.

Mamá se pone de pie.

—Yo también me voy a descansar.

—¿A dónde? —mi tono es cortante.

Ella se gira hacia mí con fingida inocencia.

—A la cama.

—Solo tenemos dos habitaciones.

—Mamá puede dormir conmigo —Viola interviene de inmediato.

—Ni pensarlo.

—Está bien —mamá sonríe, alzando las manos como si no quisiera

discutir—. Me quedaré en la habitación de Cadence. Ustedes dos
pueden dormir juntas, como solían hacerlo antes.

Se me revuelve el estómago.

—No.

Viola me lanza una mirada suplicante.

—Mamá no puede simplemente dormir en un motel, Cadey. Y no es

como si nunca hubiéramos compartido cama antes.

Me muerdo el labio.

Odio esto.

Odio lo rápido que mamá se ha vuelto a infiltrar en nuestras vidas.

Pero Viola es todo lo que tengo.

Y en este momento, Viola quiere a mamá aquí.

Aprieto los dientes.

—Solo por una noche.

Mamá sonríe, satisfecha.

—Por supuesto.

Algo en su tono me da escalofríos.

Unas alarmas resuenan en mi cabeza.

Dejar que mamá regrese a nuestras vidas es lo último que deberíamos

hacer.

Pero ¿cuál es la alternativa?

Si la echo ahora, se meterá en más problemas.

Si la policía empieza a investigar, si descubren que fingió su muerte, si

empiezan a hacer preguntas sobre mí y Viola…

No puedo arriesgarme.

Además, sé que mamá nos está ocultando algo.

Si quiero descubrir la verdad, tengo que mantenerla cerca.

—No robes nada de mi habitación mientras duermo —le advierto.

Mamá suelta una carcajada.

—Buenas noches, Cadey.

Viola se queda dormida casi de inmediato.

Sus respiraciones son lentas y profundas, su cuerpo se acurruca contra

la manta.

Observo su rostro relajado y siento una punzada de culpa en el pecho.

Te odio por ocultármelo, Cadey.

Su voz todavía resuena en mi cabeza.

Me remuevo en la cama.

Ella tiene razón.

Siempre intento llevar toda la carga sola.

Siempre he intentado protegerla de todo.

Pero tal vez ya no pueda hacerlo.

Tal vez ya sea demasiado tarde.

Me levanto en silencio y salgo de la habitación.

Me deslizo por el pasillo hasta mi cuarto.

La puerta está entreabierta.

Asomo la cabeza con cautela.

Mamá está tendida en mi cama, con los ojos cerrados.

Aprovecho la oportunidad y camino directo a la cómoda.

Aparto la ropa, buscando entre mis cosas hasta que mis dedos tocan un
pequeño estuche de terciopelo.

Lo saco rápidamente y lo escondo en el bolsillo de mi falda escolar.

—¿Qué buscas?

El susurro de mamá me congela en el acto.

Me giro y la veo mirándome, una sonrisa perezosa en su rostro.

—Solo ropa para dormir —miento.

Sus ojos se afilan.

—¿Él te lo regaló?

Mi estómago se revuelve.

—¿De qué hablas?

Mamá se incorpora y sonríe con picardía.

—Vi su auto, Cadey.

Siento un nudo en la garganta.

—No sé de qué hablas.

Mamá solo ríe.

—Claro que sí.

Y entonces, con una calma escalofriante, dice:

—Si vas a salir de este infierno, cariño… más vale que me lleves
contigo.
CAPÍTULO SEIS

CADENCE

Una cuerda tensa se enrolla dentro de mí.

Incluso después de que mamá cierra los ojos y comienza a respirar de

manera uniforme, sigo sintiéndome atrapada.

Como si su mera presencia en mi habitación drenara el aire.

Me quedo allí, de pie en la penumbra, tratando de procesar sus palabras.

“Si vas a salir de este infierno, cariño… más vale que me lleves
contigo.”

Apretando los dientes, salgo de la habitación con pasos ligeros.

Las tablas del suelo crujen levemente bajo mi peso mientras me dirijo al
baño.

Me encierro dentro, respiro hondo y saco el pequeño estuche de

terciopelo de mi bolsillo.

Lo abro con manos temblorosas.

Dentro, reluce una fina cadena de oro con un colgante en forma de llave.

La sostengo entre los dedos y cierro los ojos.

Es lo único de valor que tengo.

El único recuerdo de mi padre.

Me prometí a mí misma que nunca la perdería.

Que nunca la vendería, sin importar qué tan mal estuvieran las cosas.

Pero ahora mamá está aquí.

Y si se queda, encontrará la manera de robarla.

De empeñarla.

De convertirla en dinero para su próxima dosis.

No puedo dejar que eso pase.

La coloco cuidadosamente de nuevo en su estuche y la escondo en el

bolsillo interior de mi chaqueta.

Respiro hondo y salgo del baño.

Viola sigue dormida cuando regreso a la habitación.

Me deslizo en la cama junto a ella, pero el sueño no llega.

Paso la noche en vela, con la mente dando vueltas.

Preguntándome qué hará mamá.

Preguntándome qué haré yo.

A la mañana siguiente, el sol apenas empieza a filtrarse por las cortinas
cuando me levanto.

Me muevo en silencio, sin despertar a Viola, y me dirijo a la cocina.

Mamá ya está allí.

Sostiene una taza de café, con una expresión tranquila, como si no fuera
una intrusa en nuestra casa.

—Buenos días, cariño.

Su voz es dulce.

Demasiado dulce.

Desconfío de inmediato.

Me acerco a la cafetera y sirvo un poco para mí.

—¿Vas a quedarte mucho tiempo? —pregunto sin rodeos.

Mamá sonríe y se apoya en la encimera.

—Depende.

—¿De qué?

—De lo que decidas hacer.

Su mirada se desliza hasta la chaqueta que tengo en el brazo.

Sabe que escondí algo.

Y está esperando a que me equivoque.

A que le dé una razón para buscarlo.

No le daré esa oportunidad.

—No tengo tiempo para juegos, mamá.

Me llevo la taza a los labios, pero ni siquiera siento el calor del café.

—No son juegos, cariño. Son oportunidades.

Inclina la cabeza, con una sonrisa perezosa.

—Y creo que nos vendría bien un pequeño trato, ¿no crees?

Me tenso.

—¿Qué clase de trato?

Mamá da un sorbo a su café, disfrutando de mi incomodidad.

—Tú me ayudas… y yo no me convierto en un problema para ti.

Se me revuelve el estómago.

Esto no es una negociación.

Es un chantaje.

Y lo sabe.

—No necesito más problemas en mi vida —espeto, dejando mi taza en

la mesa.
—Entonces haz lo correcto, Cadey.

Sus ojos brillan con astucia.

—Porque si no lo haces… bueno, ya sabes lo que pasa cuando la gente

no coopera conmigo.

Su sonrisa nunca desaparece.

Pero hay veneno en sus palabras.

Veneno que me quema la piel.

Me doy cuenta en ese instante de que mamá no solo ha vuelto a nuestras

vidas.

Ha vuelto con un plan.

Y yo soy parte de él.

CAPÍTULO SIETE

CADENCE

El ambiente en la mesa del desayuno es tenso.

Viola no deja de lanzar miradas entre mamá y yo, con el ceño fruncido.

Puede sentirlo.

La electricidad en el aire.

El peligro oculto bajo la sonrisa encantadora de mamá.

—Cadey, ¿quieres más café? —pregunta ella con fingida dulzura,

sosteniendo la cafetera.

—No.

Mi respuesta es seca.

Ella solo sonríe y se sienta de nuevo, removiendo su propia taza con

lentitud.

Viola suelta un suspiro y deja su cuchara en el tazón de cereal.

—Voy a prepararme para la escuela.

Se levanta de la mesa y me lanza una mirada significativa antes de

desaparecer en el pasillo.

Nos quedamos en silencio.

Mamá apoya un codo sobre la mesa y me observa con detenimiento.

—No seas tan fría, Cadey. Estoy intentando empezar de nuevo.

Mis dedos se tensan alrededor del borde de la mesa.

—¿Empezar de nuevo?

Ella inclina la cabeza.

—Así es. Pensé que podríamos darnos otra oportunidad.

Suelto una risa sin humor.

—¿Cómo madre e hija?

Mamá ladea la cabeza.

—Como familia.

Mi estómago se revuelve.

Ya he escuchado esto antes.

—Viola quiere que te quedes —digo en voz baja—. Y aunque sé que es

un error, no voy a romperle el corazón tan rápido.
Mamá sonríe, pero sus ojos brillan con un destello calculador.

—Esa es mi niña inteligente.

Me levanto de golpe, sin poder soportarlo más.

Recojo mi plato y lo dejo en el fregadero con más fuerza de la necesaria.

—Tengo que irme.

—¿Tan pronto?

—Tengo escuela.

Camino hacia el pasillo y tomo mi chaqueta.

Antes de salir, mamá dice algo en voz baja:

—Nos veremos luego, cariño.

No miro atrás.

El trayecto a la escuela pasa en un borrón.

Viola se sienta en el asiento del copiloto, sin decir una palabra.

Sé que quiere hablar, pero no sé si tengo la energía para esa

conversación.

Cuando llegamos a Redwood Prep, ella sale del auto sin despedirse y
desaparece en el edificio.
Apenas he cerrado la puerta del coche cuando una figura se desliza a mi
lado.

—¿Mala mañana?

Reconozco esa voz al instante.

Dutch.

No me molesto en responder.

Él camina a mi lado mientras subimos los escalones de la entrada.

—Viola parecía molesta. ¿Pasó algo con tu mamá?

Mis músculos se tensan.

Odio lo rápido que entiende las cosas.

Odio lo fácil que parece leerme.

—No es asunto tuyo.

Dutch suelta una leve risa.

—Lo dices como si eso me fuera a detener.

Lo miro de reojo, con el ceño fruncido.

Él me sostiene la mirada, con esa intensidad que hace que mi estómago

se encoja.

A Dutch le gusta jugar con fuego.

Lo peor es que yo también.

Sin embargo, no tengo tiempo para esto.

—Tengo clase.

Intento alejarme, pero él atrapa mi muñeca con suavidad.

—Cadey.

Su voz es baja, casi un susurro.

Cierro los ojos por un segundo, tratando de encontrar la fuerza para

ignorarlo.

Pero su toque quema.

Y no puedo fingir que no me afecta.

Me suelto bruscamente.

—Nos vemos luego.

Entro al edificio antes de que pueda detenerme otra vez.

Mi corazón late con fuerza.

Esto se está saliendo de control.

Y lo peor de todo…

Es que parte de mí no quiere detenerlo.

CAPÍTULO OCHO

CADENCE

El sonido de la campana marca el final de la última clase del día.

Recojo mis cosas rápidamente, evitando la mirada de mis compañeros mientras salgo del aula.
No estoy de humor para charlas ni invitaciones.

Necesito aire.

Necesito pensar.

Pero cuando llego al estacionamiento, lo encuentro apoyado contra su auto.

Dutch.

Como si hubiera estado esperando por mí.

Me detengo en seco.

Él levanta la cabeza y sonríe, con ese brillo de diversión en los ojos.

—¿No vas a saludarme, Cadey?

Mi corazón da un vuelco traicionero.

—¿Qué haces aquí?

Dutch se separa del auto y se acerca con paso lento, seguro.

—Te vi salir corriendo esta mañana. Parecías molesta.

Cruzo los brazos sobre mi pecho.

—Estoy bien.

—No pareces bien.

Aprieto los dientes.

—No es asunto tuyo.

Él ladea la cabeza, observándome con intensidad.

—Todo lo que tenga que ver contigo es asunto mío.

Sus palabras me descolocan.

Demasiado directas. Demasiado sinceras.

Mi estómago se revuelve.

—No tengo tiempo para esto.

Intento rodearlo, pero él se mueve, bloqueando mi camino.

—Ven conmigo.

Frunzo el ceño.

—¿A dónde?

—A despejarte un rato.

Niego con la cabeza.

—No puedo. Tengo que volver a casa.

Su expresión se endurece.

—¿A casa? ¿Con tu madre?

No respondo.

Pero eso ya es suficiente para él.

—Vamos, Cadey. Solo un rato.

Vacilo.

Sé que no debería.

Sé que si me voy con él, las cosas solo se complicarán más.

Pero la idea de regresar y enfrentar a mamá me hace sentir asfixiada.

Exhalo con frustración.

—Está bien.
Una sonrisa satisfecha se extiende en su rostro.

—Buena elección.

La moto de Dutch se detiene en un mirador, lejos de la ciudad.

El viento agita mi cabello mientras bajo del asiento.

La vista es impresionante. Desde aquí, todo se ve pequeño, insignificante.

Como si mis problemas no pudieran alcanzarme.

Me cruzo de brazos y suspiro.

—¿Por qué me trajiste aquí?

Dutch apaga el motor y se apoya contra su moto, con una media sonrisa.

—Porque pensé que necesitabas un respiro.

—¿Y qué te hace pensar eso?

—Lo sé porque eres como yo.

Frunzo el ceño.

—No somos iguales.

Él se ríe suavemente.

—No en todo. Pero en lo que importa, sí.

Niego con la cabeza, pero en el fondo sé que no está del todo equivocado.

Ambos cargamos con cosas que nadie más entendería.

Ambos sabemos lo que es sobrevivir en un mundo que no nos da tregua.

—¿Por qué te importa? —pregunto en voz baja.

Dutch se acerca.

—Porque no quiero que te rompas.

Sus palabras me atraviesan.

La brisa nocturna sopla entre nosotros, pero no puedo apartar la mirada de sus ojos dorados.

Hay algo en él que me atrae.

Algo peligroso.

Algo inevitable.

Respiro hondo y desvío la mirada.

—No te preocupes por mí.

Él se queda en silencio por un momento y luego dice con suavidad:

—Es demasiado tarde para eso.

Cierro los ojos un instante.

Estoy en problemas.

Lo sé.

Pero, por ahora, solo quiero quedarme aquí un poco más.

Solo por esta noche.

CAPÍTULO NUEVE

CADENCE

Dutch me deja en casa cerca de la medianoche.

El camino de regreso es silencioso.

No porque no haya nada que decir, sino porque hay demasiado.

Y ninguno de los dos está listo para decirlo en voz alta.

Cuando su moto se detiene frente a mi edificio, me bajo con lentitud.

Siento su mirada fija en mí.

Esperando.

Pero no me giro para mirarlo.

—Gracias por… —las palabras quedan suspendidas en el aire.

Ni siquiera estoy segura de por qué le estoy agradeciendo.

Por llevarme lejos por un rato.

Por darme un respiro.

Por hacerme olvidar.

Por hacerme sentir algo más que solo el peso de mi propia vida.

Dutch se baja de la moto y da un paso hacia mí.

—¿Quieres que suba contigo?

Mi corazón tropieza dentro de mi pecho.

—No.

Él asiente lentamente, como si esperara esa respuesta.

—¿Estás segura?

Su voz es tranquila, pero hay algo en su mirada. Algo que me dice que si
digo sí, si le dejo entrar en mi mundo, lo haría sin dudarlo.

Pero si lo dejo entrar…

Lo haré parte de todo esto.

Y no quiero arrastrarlo a mi desastre.

—Sí —susurro.
Dutch me estudia por un momento más, luego desliza los dedos por su
cabello y suspira.

—Está bien.

Subo las escaleras sintiéndome más cansada de lo que esperaba.

Pero justo cuando llego a la puerta de mi apartamento, oigo su voz.

—Cadey.

Me detengo.

Aprieto los ojos con fuerza antes de girarme.

Dutch sigue de pie junto a su moto, con las manos en los bolsillos y la
cabeza ligeramente inclinada.

—Si necesitas un escape otra vez… —su voz es baja, pero firme—. Ya
sabes dónde encontrarme.

No respondo.

Solo entro y cierro la puerta detrás de mí.

Porque si digo algo más, temo que mi voz me traicione.

Y temo que la próxima vez…

Lo busque sin dudarlo.

CAPÍTULO DIEZ

CADENCE

El apartamento está en silencio cuando entro.

Demasiado silencio.

Dejo mi chaqueta en el sofá y camino con cautela hacia la cocina.

El fregadero está lleno de platos sucios.

El olor a cigarro y perfume barato aún flota en el aire.

Mamá estuvo aquí.

Pero ahora se ha ido.

Me paso una mano por el rostro, sintiendo el peso de la fatiga.

No sé si prefiero que esté aquí o que desaparezca de nuevo.

De cualquier forma, el resultado es el mismo: caos.

Cruzo el pasillo hasta la habitación de Viola.

Abro la puerta con cuidado y me asomo.

Está dormida.

Su respiración es lenta y tranquila.

Por lo menos, ella está bien.

Me quedo allí un momento, asegurándome de que realmente está en paz.

Luego cierro la puerta suavemente y voy a mi propio cuarto.

El lugar donde mamá durmió anoche.

Mi pecho se aprieta al pensar en eso.

Aún puedo sentir su presencia en el aire, como un fantasma que nunca se va del todo.

Pero esta es mi realidad.

Esto es lo que tengo que soportar.

Me dejo caer sobre la cama y cierro los ojos.

Pero el sueño no llega.

Porque en lo más profundo de mi mente, una idea persistente no deja de atormentarme:

Mamá nunca regresa sin una razón.

Y tarde o temprano, descubriré cuál es.

CAPÍTULO ONCE

CADENCE

El sonido del despertador me arranca de un sueño sin sentido.

Abro los ojos lentamente y me toma unos segundos recordar dónde estoy.

En casa.

En mi propia cama.

Sola.

Por un momento, me permito disfrutar de la tranquilidad.

Pero entonces, la realidad me golpea.

Me obligo a salir de la cama y cruzo el pasillo hasta la habitación de Viola.

Está despierta, sentada en el borde de su cama, con la mirada perdida.

—Vi…

Ella parpadea y me mira.

—¿Está aquí?

No necesito preguntarle a quién se refiere.

Sacudo la cabeza.

—No cuando llegué anoche.

Viola aprieta los labios.

Puedo ver la confusión en su rostro, el conflicto interno en sus ojos.

Parte de ella quiere creerle a mamá.

Parte de ella quiere que todo esto sea real.

Pero la otra parte…

La parte que ya ha sido herida demasiadas veces…

No sabe en qué confiar.

—Vamos, se nos hará tarde —digo en voz baja.

Viola asiente, pero no se mueve de inmediato.

Finalmente, suspira y se levanta.

El camino a la escuela es silencioso.

Viola juega con la cremallera de su chaqueta, sumida en sus pensamientos.

Sé que quiere preguntar algo.

Sé que está luchando consigo misma.

Cuando llegamos a Redwood Prep, ella finalmente habla:

—¿Y si esta vez es diferente?

Agarro el volante con fuerza.

—No lo es.

Viola baja la mirada.

—Pero…
—Vi, por favor —mi voz es más dura de lo que pretendía—. No te hagas esto a ti misma.

Ella aprieta los labios y asiente con rigidez.

Sin decir nada más, abre la puerta y se va.

La observo desaparecer entre la multitud de estudiantes.

Me paso una mano por la cara y dejo escapar un suspiro.

Cuando bajo del auto, siento una presencia detrás de mí.

—Mañana difícil, Brahms.

Me giro y me encuentro con Dutch.

Se apoya contra su moto con los brazos cruzados, observándome con su típica expresión de te
leo como un libro abierto.

—No necesito tu análisis hoy —murmuro, pasando junto a él.

Pero Dutch, como siempre, no me deja escapar tan fácilmente.

—Eso no significa que no lo necesites.

Me freno en seco y lo fulmino con la mirada.

—No estoy de humor.

Él levanta las manos en señal de rendición.

—Tranquila, solo intentaba ser amable.

Exhalo con frustración y continúo caminando.

Pero antes de entrar al edificio, escucho su voz de nuevo:

—No dejes que te consuma, Cadey.

Cierro los ojos un instante.

Demasiado tarde.

Ya lo hizo.
CAPÍTULO DOCE

CADENCE

No puedo concentrarme en ninguna de mis clases.

Las palabras de los profesores flotan en el aire, pero no logro retener nada.

Mi mente está en otro lugar.

En casa.

En mamá.

En lo que realmente está buscando al regresar.

Porque sé que hay algo más.

Siempre lo hay.

Cuando suena la campana del almuerzo, me apresuro a salir del aula.

Necesito aire.

Pero apenas cruzo la puerta del pasillo, siento que alguien me sigue.

—No vas a escapar de mí hoy, Brahms.

Cierro los ojos un segundo y respiro hondo antes de girarme.

Dutch.

Se inclina contra los casilleros, con su expresión tranquila y esa media sonrisa que siempre
parece estar a punto de desarmarme.

—No estoy escapando.

—¿No? —Levanta una ceja—. Porque lo pareces.

Me cruzo de brazos.

—Solo necesito un momento a solas.

Él me estudia con detenimiento, como si intentara leer algo más allá de mis palabras.

—Entonces te daré dos opciones —dice finalmente—: Puedes decirme qué te pasa o puedes
dejar que te distraiga.

Frunzo el ceño.

—¿Distraerme cómo?

Su sonrisa se ensancha.

—Ven conmigo y lo verás.

Algo en su tono me dice que no es una simple invitación.

Es un desafío.

Y, contra mi mejor juicio, lo acepto.

—Está bien.

Dutch asiente con satisfacción y toma mi mano antes de que pueda cambiar de opinión.

Su agarre es firme, seguro.

Y, por alguna razón, no me molesto en soltarme.

Terminamos en su auto, alejándonos de la escuela.

—¿A dónde vamos? —pregunto.

—Confía en mí.

Lo miro de reojo.

—Eso es pedir mucho.

Él se ríe, pero no responde.

Después de unos minutos, nos detenemos en un pequeño mirador a las afueras de la ciudad.

Es un lugar tranquilo, con una vista impresionante.

Dutch apaga el motor y se recuesta contra el asiento, observándome.

—¿Qué piensas?

Exhalo lentamente y miro el horizonte.

—Es… diferente.

—Ese es el punto.

Me giro para mirarlo.

—¿Por qué me trajiste aquí?

Dutch se encoge de hombros.

—Porque te veía ahogándote y quería darte un poco de aire.

Mi pecho se aprieta.

No sé qué responder a eso.

Pero, por primera vez en todo el día, me siento un poco menos pesada.

Un poco menos rota.

Y, por ahora, eso es suficiente.

CAPÍTULO TRECE

CADENCE

Nos quedamos en el mirador por un rato, sin decir mucho.

El silencio entre Dutch y yo no es incómodo.

Es… fácil.

Como si ambos entendiéramos que, por ahora, las palabras no son

necesarias.

El viento sopla suavemente, enredando mi cabello.

Dutch me observa, pero no de la manera en que lo hacen los demás.

Su mirada no es invasiva ni demandante.

Es tranquila.

Como si simplemente estuviera tratando de descifrarme.

—¿Te sientes mejor? —pregunta después de un rato.

Cruzo los brazos sobre mi pecho y miro la ciudad a lo lejos.

—No lo sé.

Él asiente, como si entendiera exactamente a lo que me refiero.

Y tal vez lo haga.

Dutch no es como los otros chicos de Redwood Prep.

Es peligroso, sí.

Pero también es… real.

—A veces no se trata de sentirse mejor —dice en voz baja—. A veces solo

se trata de seguir adelante.

Sus palabras se quedan suspendidas en el aire entre nosotros.

Sigo mirando el horizonte, dejando que la brisa fría me envuelva.

Y, por primera vez en mucho tiempo, no me siento completamente sola.

Cuando Dutch me deja en casa, el peso de la realidad vuelve a caer sobre
mis hombros.

El apartamento está oscuro cuando entro.

Viola debe estar en su habitación.

Pero no es eso lo que me preocupa.

Es el hecho de que mamá sigue sin aparecer.

Me quedo parada en la sala de estar, sintiendo el vacío en el aire.

Algo está mal.

Y lo peor es que no tengo idea de qué es.

Respiro hondo y me obligo a seguir adelante.

No puedo preocuparme por lo que aún no ha sucedido.

Porque sé que, tarde o temprano, la verdad saldrá a la luz.

Y cuando lo haga…

Tengo la sensación de que nada volverá a ser igual.

CAPÍTULO CATORCE

CADENCE

El sonido de la puerta abriéndose me saca de mis pensamientos.

Mamá entra con la misma confianza de siempre, como si no hubiera estado desaparecida por
más de un día.

Como si no debiera una explicación.

—¿Dónde estabas? —pregunto, cruzando los brazos.

Ella deja caer su bolso en el sofá y suspira con dramatismo.

—Haciendo lo que tenía que hacer.

Su respuesta evasiva solo aumenta mi frustración.

—Eso no responde nada.

Mamá se quita la chaqueta lentamente y me dedica una sonrisa despreocupada.

—Oh, Cadey, siempre tan preocupada por todo.

Aprieto los puños.

—Porque alguien tiene que estarlo.

Ella inclina la cabeza, como si estuviera considerando mis palabras, pero la burla en sus ojos lo
arruina todo.

—Relájate. No me metí en problemas... esta vez.

Me río con incredulidad.

—Eso es un milagro.

Mamá ignora mi sarcasmo y camina hacia la cocina.

La sigo, sintiendo un nudo de frustración en el estómago.

—Viola estuvo preocupada.

Mamá abre el refrigerador y saca una botella de agua.

—Viola siempre se preocupa demasiado.

—Quizás porque siempre le das razones para hacerlo.

Ella cierra la puerta del refrigerador de golpe y me mira con una sonrisa afilada.

—¿Sabes qué, Cadey? No tienes que hacer esto. No tienes que actuar como si fueras mejor que
yo.

Mi mandíbula se tensa.

—No lo hago. Solo trato de mantenernos a salvo.

Su expresión cambia por un segundo. Algo oscuro cruza sus ojos antes de que recupere su
actitud relajada.

—Bueno, cariño, quizás sea hora de que te preocupes por ti misma.

Se inclina y me da un beso en la mejilla antes de tomar su botella de agua y salir de la cocina.

Me quedo allí, con el corazón latiendo con fuerza.

Porque sé que, detrás de su sonrisa y sus palabras suaves, hay algo más.

Algo que aún no me ha dicho.

Y no tengo idea de lo que se avecina.

CAPÍTULO QUINCE

CADENCE

Me despierto antes de que suene la alarma.

No es por el ruido ni por un mal sueño.

Es por esa sensación persistente en mi pecho.

Esa que me dice que algo está mal.

Me quedo acostada unos segundos, observando el techo, tratando de calmar mi respiración.

Pero el peso en mi pecho no desaparece.

Finalmente, me levanto y cruzo el pasillo hasta la cocina.

Viola ya está allí, con una taza de café entre las manos.

—¿Dormiste bien? —pregunta en voz baja.

Sacudo la cabeza.

—¿Mamá sigue aquí?

Viola asiente.

—Está en su habitación.

Eso no me tranquiliza.

De hecho, me pone más nerviosa.

Si mamá sigue aquí, significa que aún necesita algo.

Y cuando mamá necesita algo, nunca es bueno para nadie más.

Me sirvo café en silencio.

Viola me observa con cautela.

—¿Crees que realmente ha cambiado?

Su pregunta me toma por sorpresa.

La miro con atención.

Hay esperanza en su voz, pero también miedo.

No quiero destruir esa esperanza.

Pero tampoco quiero mentirle.

—No lo sé —respondo finalmente.

Es la única respuesta honesta que puedo darle.

Viola asiente lentamente, pero veo la decepción en sus ojos.

Antes de que pueda decir algo más, la puerta de la habitación de mamá se abre.

Ella sale con su sonrisa característica, como si nada estuviera mal.

—Buenos días, niñas.

Viola le devuelve la sonrisa, aunque un poco forzada.

Yo, en cambio, no digo nada.

Solo la observo.

Esperando.

Porque sé que tarde o temprano, su verdadera intención saldrá a la luz.

Y cuando lo haga, todo se derrumbará otra vez.

CAPÍTULO DIECISÉIS

CADENCE

Mamá actúa como si todo estuviera bien.

Como si no hubiera fingido su muerte.

Como si no hubiera destrozado nuestras vidas y luego regresado como si nada hubiera pasado.

Se sienta a la mesa del desayuno con Viola y habla sobre cosas triviales: el clima, la escuela,
cualquier cosa que la haga parecer una madre normal.

Pero yo no lo creo.

Nunca lo haré.

Viola finge que la situación es normal, pero noto cómo juega con la cuchara, removiendo su
cereal sin probarlo.
Está incómoda.

Y no la culpo.

Mamá le dedica una sonrisa radiante.

—¿Cómo va la escuela, Vi?

Viola se encoge de hombros.

—Bien.

Mamá asiente con entusiasmo.

—Sabes, cuando tenía tu edad, la escuela era mi lugar favorito.

Reprimo una carcajada.

Mentira.

Mamá nunca terminó la secundaria.

Pero Viola no dice nada.

Solo asiente lentamente y sigue moviendo la cuchara en su tazón.

Yo, en cambio, no puedo seguir soportando esta farsa.

Empujo mi silla hacia atrás y me levanto.

—Tengo que irme.

Mamá inclina la cabeza.

—¿No vas a comer?

—No tengo hambre.

Tomo mi bolso y me dirijo a la puerta sin mirar atrás.

Necesito salir de aquí antes de que mi paciencia se agote.

Antes de que diga algo que no pueda retirar.

Cuando llego a la escuela, siento que puedo respirar de nuevo.

Pero esa sensación de alivio no dura mucho.

Porque, apenas entro, lo veo.

Dutch.

Está apoyado contra los casilleros, con los brazos cruzados y una expresión que me dice que ha
estado esperando por mí.

—Llegas temprano, Brahms.

Resoplo.

—No tenía ganas de estar en casa.

Él ladea la cabeza, evaluándome.

—¿Problemas familiares?

No respondo.
Pero él ya sabe la respuesta.

Dutch siempre parece saberlo todo.

—Ven conmigo.

Frunzo el ceño.

—Tengo clase.

—Saltémonos la primera.

—No puedo.

Él se acerca, reduciendo la distancia entre nosotros.

—Claro que puedes.

Algo en su tono hace que mi determinación flaquee.

Sé que no debería ir con él.

Sé que sería una mala idea.

Pero, al mismo tiempo, necesito un respiro.

Y Dutch es el único que parece entenderlo.

Suspiro y lo miro con frustración.

—Solo esta vez.

Él sonríe.

—Buena elección, Brahms.

Y, sin más, me toma de la mano y me arrastra fuera del edificio.

Porque, aunque sé que él es peligroso…

No puedo evitar querer seguirlo.

CAPÍTULO DIECISIETE

CADENCE

Dutch me lleva lejos de la ciudad, a un lugar que no reconozco.

Nos alejamos del ruido, del tráfico, de la gente.

El camino de tierra es estrecho, rodeado de árboles altos y densos que se

mecen con el viento.

Cuando finalmente se detiene, apaga el motor y todo queda en un

silencio casi absoluto.

Frunzo el ceño.

—¿Dónde estamos?

Dutch se apoya contra el volante y me observa con calma.

—En un lugar tranquilo. Pensé que lo necesitabas.

Lo miro con escepticismo.

—¿Y qué te hace pensar eso?

Él sonríe levemente.

—Porque nunca dejas de estar en guardia. Siempre pareces lista para

correr o para pelear.

Desvío la mirada.

No puedo discutir con eso.

Exhalo lentamente y observo el paisaje.

El sol se filtra entre las ramas, proyectando sombras suaves sobre el

suelo cubierto de hojas secas.

El aire es fresco, limpio.

Es un lugar bonito.

Pacífico.

Por primera vez en todo el día, siento que mi mente deja de girar sin
control.

—¿Vienes aquí seguido? —pregunto en voz baja.

Dutch asiente, su mirada fija en algún punto lejano.

—A veces. Cuando necesito pensar.

Lo observo de reojo.

Hay algo en su tono, en la forma en que sus ojos se pierden en la

distancia, que me dice que este lugar significa más para él de lo que deja
ver.

—Gracias por traerme.

Él me mira de reojo, como si no esperara que le agradeciera.

Luego, simplemente asiente.

—Cuando quieras, Brahms.

Nos quedamos en silencio.

Y, por primera vez en mucho tiempo, el silencio no me pesa.

 CAPÍTULO DIECIOCHO

CADENCE

El sol comienza a ponerse mientras seguimos sentados en el auto,

rodeados de la tranquilidad del bosque.

Dutch no ha dicho nada en un rato.

Y, sorprendentemente, tampoco me molesta.

El silencio con él no es incómodo.

Es como si, por primera vez en mucho tiempo, no necesitara llenar el

vacío con palabras innecesarias.

Pero entonces, él rompe el silencio.

 —¿Vas a decirme qué está pasando, Brahms?

Cierro los ojos un segundo y suspiro.

—No hay nada que decir.

Dutch suelta una risa baja.

—Sabes que no te creo, ¿verdad?

Miro por la ventana, observando las sombras alargadas de los árboles.

No quiero hablar de esto.

No quiero admitir en voz alta todo lo que me está consumiendo por

dentro.

Pero Dutch no se da por vencido fácilmente.

—Tiene que ver con tu mamá, ¿cierto?

Mi estómago se aprieta.

Él nota mi reacción y asiente como si acabara de confirmar su sospecha.

—Lo sabía.

Me remuevo en mi asiento, sintiendo el peso de su mirada sobre mí.

—No quiero hablar de eso.

Dutch no responde de inmediato.

 En lugar de insistir, enciende el auto y pone las manos en el volante.

—Bien. No hablaremos de eso.

Parpadeo, sorprendida por lo fácil que lo deja pasar.

Pero entonces él añade:

—Por ahora.

Exhalo con frustración.

—Eres insoportable.

Dutch sonríe con diversión.

—Y sin embargo, sigues aquí.

Sacudo la cabeza, pero no puedo evitar que un pequeño, casi

imperceptible, rastro de una sonrisa se forme en mis labios.

Él me ve y su sonrisa se ensancha.

—Lo sabía.

—No sabes nada.

—Sé lo suficiente.

No respondo.

Porque, en el fondo, sé que tiene razón.

Y eso es lo que más me asusta.

 Cuando llegamos de vuelta a mi edificio, el peso de la realidad vuelve a
caer sobre mis hombros.

Me bajo del auto y me giro hacia Dutch.

Él apoya un brazo en el techo del coche y me mira con su típica

expresión despreocupada.

Pero hay algo en sus ojos…

Algo más profundo.

—¿Estás segura de que quieres subir sola? —pregunta.

Trago saliva.

—Sí.

Él asiente, pero no parece convencido.

—Si cambias de opinión…

—Lo sé.

Nos quedamos en silencio por un momento.

Luego, sin pensarlo demasiado, doy un paso adelante y me inclino hacia

la ventana.

—Gracias.
 Dutch levanta una ceja.

—¿Por qué?

—Por… esto.

Por no presionarme.

Por entenderme sin que tenga que explicarlo todo.

Por hacerme sentir, aunque sea por un momento, que no estoy

completamente sola.

Él me observa con intensidad, como si intentara leer lo que no estoy

diciendo en voz alta.

Luego asiente lentamente.

—Cuando quieras, Brahms.

Doy un paso atrás y me giro, subiendo las escaleras con el corazón

latiendo más rápido de lo normal.

No miro atrás.

Porque si lo hago, sé que dudaré.

Y no puedo permitirme eso.

No ahora.

No con todo lo que está a punto de desmoronarse.

CAPÍTULO DIECINUEVE

CADENCE

Cuando entro al apartamento, el aire se siente pesado.

La televisión está encendida, pero el volumen está bajo.

Mamá está sentada en el sofá, con una copa en la mano.

Viola no está a la vista.

—Llegas tarde —dice mamá sin apartar la vista de la pantalla.

Cierro la puerta detrás de mí y me quito la chaqueta con movimientos
lentos.

—Tenía cosas que hacer.

Mamá deja escapar una risa baja.

—Seguro que sí.

No me gusta su tono.

Es burlón.

Como si supiera algo que yo no.

—¿Dónde está Viola?

Mamá finalmente me mira.

Sus ojos están brillantes, pero no de emoción.

De algo más oscuro.

—En su habitación.

La observo con cautela.

—¿Estás borracha?

Ella sonríe y agita la copa en su mano.

—Un poco. Pero nada grave.

Mi estómago se revuelve.

—Pensé que habías cambiado.

Mamá suelta una carcajada.

—¿Y quién te dijo eso?

Mi mandíbula se tensa.

Camino directamente hacia el pasillo, ignorándola.

Cuando llego a la puerta de Viola, toco suavemente.

—Vi, ¿puedo pasar?

Hay un momento de silencio antes de que su voz llegue, apagada.

—Sí.

Abro la puerta y la encuentro sentada en su cama, abrazando sus rodillas.

Sus ojos están hinchados.

—¿Qué pasó? —pregunto, cerrando la puerta detrás de mí.

Viola sacude la cabeza.

—Nada.

Me siento en el borde de la cama.

—Vi, dime la verdad.

Ella respira hondo y finalmente dice:

—Mamá me pidió dinero.

Cierro los ojos con fuerza.

Por supuesto que lo hizo.

—¿Cuánto?

—No lo sé. Solo dijo que necesitaba ayuda… que solo era un préstamo.

Aprieto los dientes.

—No le diste nada, ¿verdad?

Viola niega con la cabeza.

—No.

Exhalo lentamente.

—Bien.

Viola levanta la vista y me mira con algo parecido a la culpa.

—¿Y si realmente lo necesita?

Mi corazón se aprieta.

Porque sé que todavía quiere creer en mamá.

Quiere creer que esta vez es diferente.

Pero no lo es.

Nunca lo es.

Me inclino y tomo su mano.

—No le des nada, ¿de acuerdo? No importa lo que diga.

Viola asiente lentamente, pero veo la duda en sus ojos.

Y eso me preocupa.

Me levanto y camino hacia la puerta.

Antes de salir, me giro hacia ella.

—No te preocupes por esto. Yo me encargaré.

Viola me observa con algo de alivio, pero también con miedo.

Porque ambas sabemos que esto es solo el principio.

Y que, pase lo que pase…

Mamá no se irá sin causar problemas.

 CAPÍTULO 20

El guardaespaldas de Jarod Cross me está esperando en el

estacionamiento después de la escuela.
 Siento que mi cuerpo se tensa al mirarlo a los ojos sombríos. He estado
rodeada de la parte más sórdida de la oscuridad toda mi vida, y puedo oler
algo en este tipo. Algo que me hace sentir incómoda.

Mi teléfono suena.
Es un número desconocido.
Me pregunto si es mi madre.

—¿Hola?

—Cadence —la voz ahumada y millonaria de Jarod Cross llena mis

oídos—. Lucien te está esperando en el estacionamiento. ¿Lo ves?

—Sí.

—Me temo que estoy preparándome para un concierto, así que

necesitaré que vengas a verme. ¿Está bien?

Hay algo en su tono que me dice que solo hay una respuesta correcta a
esa pregunta.

Muerdo mi labio inferior.

—Sí.

—Te veré en unos minutos —dice Jarod Cross—. Estoy emocionado

por nuestra asociación.

—Aún no te he dado mi respuesta.

—Eres una chica inteligente. Sé que no me decepcionarás.

Un escalofrío recorre mi piel. Cuelgo el teléfono y camino hacia el

hombre vestido con un traje negro a pesar del calor sofocante.
 No estoy haciendo esto por mí. No lo hago por dinero.
Lo hago por Serena.

Ella merece recuperar su lugar y la persona que mintió sobre ella y

arruinó su vida debe pagar. No me detendré hasta lograr ambos objetivos.
Sea lo que sea que tenga que hacer para conseguir las pruebas de Jinx, estoy
dispuesta a hacerlo.

Lucien me observa con ojos duros. Abre la puerta trasera.

Subo y él la cierra de golpe.

Mi corazón salta a mi garganta. Aprieto los dedos contra el cinturón de

seguridad mientras el auto arranca.

¿Debería decirle a Dutch dónde estoy?

El pensamiento me sacude hasta la médula. ¿Por qué estoy pensando en

él?

En lugar de ser una damisela en apuros, debería encontrar mi propia

salida.

Aun así, es mejor que subirme a un coche con un extraño que me pone
los pelos de punta.

Pero si llamo a Dutch, ¿qué le digo?

“Creo que tu papá es peligroso, así que quiero salir de este trato que
hice con él. ¿Puedes venir a salvarme?”

No hay realidad en la que eso salga bien.

Estoy sola en esto.

 Pensando rápido, pongo mi teléfono en modo de grabación y lo deslizo
debajo de mi muslo.

—¿Tu nombre es Lucien? —intento iniciar una conversación casual.

Unos ojos negros y brillantes se reflejan en el espejo retrovisor.

Fuerzo una sonrisa.

—¿Cuánto tiempo has trabajado para el señor Cross?

Hay un largo silencio.

Creo que no va a responder, pero finalmente dice:

—Unos cinco años.

—¿De verdad? Por la forma en que interactúan, pensé que habías

trabajado con él desde el comienzo de su carrera.

La boca de Lucien se convierte en una fina línea.

Carraspeo.

—¿A dónde me llevas?

Sigue sin responder.

—¿Qué quiere el señor Cross que haga?

Nada.
 Mi corazón late con fuerza contra mis costillas. Aprieto los dedos
alrededor del teléfono, preguntándome qué hacer a continuación.

Algo no se siente bien.

Este hombre. Este viaje. La petición del rockstar.

—No necesitas grabar esto —dice Lucien, con voz seca y cortante.
 CAPÍTULO 21

DUTCH

Sé cómo hacer que una mujer vea estrellas. Sé cómo tocarla, jugar con
ella, provocarla hasta que suplique por más. Sé cómo susurrar órdenes en su
oído, cómo comandar su cuerpo, cómo poseerla de todas las formas
posibles.

Pero no tengo ni idea de cómo demonios planear una cita.

Al menos, no una en la que la chica realmente se siente a comer y

disfrute.

Me estremezco al recordar a Cadence gritándome y luego rompiendo en

llanto en la cena a la luz de las velas que preparé para ella. Odié verla llorar
y nunca quiero ser la razón de sus lágrimas otra vez.

—No le gustan las flores —murmuro, frunciendo el ceño mientras Zane

me empuja el ramo. Estamos sentados en mi habitación, pensando en la
mayor misión de mi vida: lograr que Cadence salga en una cita conmigo.

—Tampoco le gustan las comidas elegantes —añado. La única vez que

Cadence no me está mordiendo la oreja es cuando la estoy besando hasta
dejarla sin aliento o marcando su cuerpo con mi lengua.

—Cállate y dale las malditas flores, Dutch. Es una apuesta segura.

 —No —gruño—. Ya lo intenté. El día del incendio. Y otra vez en el
aula. Se asustó.

—Probablemente porque sigues intentando seducirla en la escuela —

dice Finn con tono monótono. Sus ojos están en un libro. Pasa la página y
hace un sonido nítido al doblarse hacia el siguiente capítulo.

Me estremezco.

—No es como si quisiera verme fuera de la escuela si la invito a salir.

—¿Por qué no simplemente vas a su casa? —sugiere Zane—. Haz algo

lindo por ella ahí.

—No me dejará entrar.

—Fuerza la entrada.

—Claro, irrumpir en su casa es súper romántico —murmura Finn.

—Ya irrumpió esa noche y aun así ella…

Me tenso y lanzo una mirada oscura a Zane.

Finn arquea una ceja.

—¿El objetivo es acostarte con ella o hacer que le gustes? Porque, en lo

que respecta a ti y Cadence, esas son dos cosas completamente diferentes.

—El objetivo es que se case conmigo.

—Entonces, al menos tiene que gustarle.

Zane resopla.
 —Si eso fuera un requisito, ¿por qué el cincuenta por ciento de los
matrimonios terminan en divorcio?

—Cadence y yo no nos vamos a divorciar —Solo la idea de perderla me

hace querer destrozar algo.

—No digo que se divorcien. Lo pregunto genuinamente —Zane nos

mira a Finn y a mí—. ¿Los esposos y las esposas realmente se gustan hoy
en día?

—Siempre lo hacen al principio —dice Finn.

Zane pone los ojos en blanco.

—Creo que Dutch debería hacer algo grande. Planear un viaje a

Francia. Llevarla a una de esas ruedas de la fortuna románticas y proponerle
matrimonio allí arriba. A las chicas les encanta esa basura.

—¿En lo alto de una rueda de la fortuna, donde no pueda escapar? —

me froto la barbilla—. Me gusta.

—Primero tienes que lograr que suba a un avión a París —señala Finn.

Zane y yo nos miramos.

Abrimos la boca al mismo tiempo, pero antes de que podamos decir lo

que estamos pensando, Finn nos corta.

—Si dicen que van a “secuestrarla”, les voy a cortar las cuerdas de la
guitarra.

—Inténtalo —gruño.
 —Cadence es la única que puede destrozar su guitarra y seguir viva —
se burla Zane con una carcajada.

—Te odiará para siempre si sigues arrinconándola —advierte Finn.

—Como dijo Zane, no necesito que le guste para que se case conmigo.

—¿Entonces has decidido amenazarla?

—He decidido hacer que admita lo que ambos sentimos —frunzo el

ceño—. Ella es la que lo hace complicado.

—Y tú eres el que quiere que la chica que te ve como una amenaza se

case contigo. Cadence no es estúpida. Y no está desesperada. Si quieres
forzarla a enamorarse de ti, no puedes ir con toda la artillería pesada. Ya lo
intentaste. Y no ha funcionado hasta ahora.
 CAPÍTULO 22

CADENCE

—No necesitas grabar esto —dice Lucien con voz seca y cortante.

Mi corazón da un vuelco.

Aprieto los dedos contra el asiento de cuero y siento el sudor formarse

en mi palma.

—¿Disculpa? —pregunto, con una voz que apenas logro mantener

firme.

Lucien no responde, pero sus ojos en el espejo retrovisor me dicen todo

lo que necesito saber.

Él lo sabe.

Sabe que estaba grabando.

Sabe que lo estaba espiando.

Disimuladamente, deslizo mi mano debajo de mi muslo, tratando de

detener la grabación sin que él lo note.
 —No lo hagas —advierte.

Mi mano se congela.

—El señor Cross quiere verte en privado, pero eso no significa que
tengas derecho a registrar todo lo que se dice en su presencia.

Muerdo mi labio.

—No estoy grabando nada.

Lucien sonríe, pero es una sonrisa sin humor, sin calidez.

—No me mientas, niña.

Mis músculos se tensan.

Siento un escalofrío recorrer mi espina dorsal mientras el auto se desliza

por las calles, alejándose de mi escuela, alejándose de cualquier lugar
donde alguien pueda ayudarme.

Mi estómago se revuelve.

¿Qué estoy haciendo?

¿Hasta dónde estoy dispuesta a llegar?

—¿Dónde estamos? —pregunto, tratando de mantener la calma.

—Lo verás en un momento.

El auto se detiene.
 Lucien abre la puerta y me mira con una expresión que no deja lugar a
dudas.

Bajo.

La mansión de Jarod Cross se alza ante mí.

Alta. Oscura. Imponente.

Las luces doradas iluminan el jardín de entrada y la gran puerta doble se

abre lentamente, como si me estuviera esperando.

Lucien se coloca a mi lado y con un gesto me indica que camine.

Mis pies se mueven por inercia.

Me digo a mí misma que estoy aquí por una razón.

Por Serena.

Por justicia.

Pero no puedo evitar sentir que estoy a punto de cruzar una línea de la
que no podré regresar.

Y lo peor de todo…

Es que no estoy segura de querer hacerlo.

 CAPÍTULO 23

DUTCH

Salto de pie, lanzándome contra las barras de hierro como un hombre

poseído.

—Mi nombre es Dutch Cross y soy inocente —gruño.

—¿No estás cansado, chico? —El oficial se ríe—. Eres como un disco
rayado.

Las carcajadas estallan desde las celdas a mi alrededor.

Me alegra que se diviertan.

Me encanta que esto les parezca gracioso.

Los ojos del oficial bajan hacia la bandeja de comida a mis pies. Está
vacía. Me obligué a comer esa porquería, sabiendo que necesitaba fuerzas,
ya fuera para cavar mi salida o para abrirme paso a golpes fuera de este
infierno.
 —El hijo de Jarod Cross sí que tiene agallas, ¿verdad? —se burla el
oficial—. Míralo, fulminándome con la mirada.

—Haré algo peor que mirarte, pedazo de…

—Termina esa frase y estarás amenazando a un oficial, mocoso.

Mis fosas nasales se ensanchan, pero cierro la boca de golpe.

Las sonrisas se ensanchan. Los ojos comienzan a brillar.

Quiero golpearlo.
Quiero quemarlos a todos.
Pero no puedo arriesgar mi oportunidad de salir de aquí.

La puerta de mi celda cruje al abrirse.

El oficial se acerca. Con la cabeza inclinada hacia la mía, dice:

—Mantente fuera de problemas de ahora en adelante, ¿de acuerdo? —

Sus ojos recorren mi rostro—. O la próxima vez, no serás el único aquí
dentro.

Mis ojos se entrecierran. ¿Me está amenazando con hacerle algo a mis
hermanos? ¿Quién demonios se cree que es?

Memorizo su rostro en mi mente.

Las esposas caen en ese momento, distrayéndome. Me froto las

muñecas con rigidez, observando las marcas que dejaron en mi piel.

—Eres libre —dice el oficial en voz alta, retrocediendo—. Lárgate de

aquí, chico. Espero que hayas aprendido la lección.
 Si no estuviera tan apurado, realmente le daría un puñetazo. Dejaría que
me devolviera a esta celda por agresión a un oficial. Que me acusara si
quisiera.

Pero tengo cosas más importantes que hacer.

Como encontrar a Cadence.

No la he visto en setenta y dos horas.

Tres días. Veinticinco minutos. Siete segundos.
Una eternidad.

Cuanto más tiempo pasé en la cárcel, más urgente me sentí. Es como si

algo dentro de mí me empujara hacia adelante, diciéndome que me apurara
o llegaría demasiado tarde.

¿Demasiado tarde para qué? Ni idea.

Salgo de la prisión y me quedo atónito al ver a mis hermanos esperando

afuera.

El rostro de Zane se retuerce de alivio y corre hacia mí. Incluso Finn

parece inusualmente nervioso.

—Dutch. —Zane me agarra del hombro y me examina—. ¿Estás bien?

—Estoy bien.

—¿Te lastimaron o… alguien te hizo algo…?

—No, estuve en una celda solo. —Le lanzo a Finn una mirada dura—.
¿Qué les tomó tanto tiempo?
 —No teníamos idea de que estabas en la cárcel.

Gruño y golpeo la pantalla en blanco de mi teléfono. Los policías me lo

devolvieron, pero el dispositivo está tardando una eternidad en encenderse.

—¿Dónde diablos creían que estaba en los últimos tres días?

—Con Cadence —dice Finn.

Una oleada de ansiedad me sacude.

—Después de que fuiste a ver a papá, recibimos un mensaje de tu

número diciendo que habías encontrado la ubicación de Cadence y que
habías ido tras ella. —Finn desliza el dedo por la pantalla para mostrarme el
mensaje en cuestión.

Es mi número.
Escrito exactamente como lo habría dicho.

—Pensamos que habías vuelto a Redwood con ella. No preguntamos

más…
 CAPÍTULO 24

DUTCH

—¿Esto es acampar? —Cadence no aparta los ojos de la vista frente a

ella.
 Luces colgantes atraviesan el follaje, esparciendo destellos dorados
sobre el suelo del bosque. Tablas de madera descansan sobre pesadas ramas.
Hamacas perezosas cuelgan entre los árboles. Es una arquitectura increíble.

—¿Esto? —Cadence señala hacia arriba, enfatizando su asombro.

Intento ocultar mi sonrisa de satisfacción. Si Cadey se da cuenta de que

estoy sonriendo como un idiota, pensará que todo esto es solo un plan para
quedarme a solas con ella.

Hoy lo hice todo por ella y Viola.

Sobre todo por Vi.

“Demuestra que puedes cuidarlas. Sé un caballero.”

Ese fue el consejo de Finn.

No es de extrañar que las chicas que pasan por nuestras camas nos
odien después, pero dejen a Finn dispuestas a morir por él.

Decidí seguir su consejo. No esperaba nada a cambio esta noche.

Fantasías, sí. Muchas. Pero supuse que tendría que esperar más para poder
tocarla como deseo.

No esperaba que la recompensa por mi paciencia llegara tan pronto.

—¿Cuánto gastaste en nosotras hoy? —murmura Cadey.

No me importa el dinero. Pero por su expresión tensa, sé que para ella sí

es un problema.

Sacudo la cabeza.

—No importa.
 —Importa para mí.

—No tienes que preocuparte por eso.

Cadence se cruza de brazos.

—Si se trata de mí, sí tengo que preocuparme.

Mi mandíbula se aprieta. Me acerco a ella, la agarro por la muñeca y

presiono mi pulgar contra su palma.

—No me importa el dinero —repito—. Me importa que estés bien.

Su respiración se acelera. Por un momento, se queda inmóvil, como si

estuviera procesando mis palabras.

Luego, suavemente, se suelta de mi agarre.

—Gracias por todo esto, Dutch —dice en voz baja.

—Siempre.

Y lo digo en serio.

No importa cuántas veces intente alejarse, siempre estaré aquí,

asegurándome de que esté a salvo.
CAPÍTULO 25

CADENCE

Me despierto en la oscuridad.

No sé dónde estoy al principio.

El aire huele a madera vieja y humedad. Hay un leve zumbido en el fondo,
como el sonido de una nevera o un motor en marcha.

Intento moverme, pero mi cuerpo se siente pesado.

Entonces recuerdo.

Lucien.
El auto.
La mansión de Jarod Cross.

Mi corazón se acelera.

Con mucho esfuerzo, me incorporo en la cama donde estoy acostada. La

habitación es pequeña, casi como una celda, con paredes de madera oscura
y una única bombilla en el techo.

Hay una puerta de metal cerrada con llave.

Estoy atrapada.

Trato de respirar con calma.

No puedo entrar en pánico.

No puedo perder la cabeza.

Busco mi teléfono, pero no está. Me reviso los bolsillos. Nada.

Mi garganta se cierra.

Si no tengo mi teléfono, ¿cómo voy a avisarle a alguien dónde estoy?

Jarod Cross me quiere aquí por alguna razón.

Pero, ¿por qué?

El sonido de pasos en el pasillo me pone alerta.

Me pongo de pie justo cuando la puerta se abre.

Jarod Cross entra con una sonrisa de satisfacción.

—Buenos días, Cadence.

Me cruzo de brazos.

—¿Qué quieres de mí?

Él suelta una carcajada baja.

—Vaya, tan directa. Me gusta eso.

—No estoy de humor para juegos.

—Yo tampoco. —Se apoya contra la puerta—. Quiero hacerte una oferta.

—No estoy interesada.

—Tal vez quieras escuchar primero.

Aprieto la mandíbula.

—Estoy buscando una cantante con tu talento. Una estrella. Alguien que
pueda llevar mi nueva banda al siguiente nivel.

Mis labios se separan en incredulidad.

—¿Me secuestraste para ofrecerme un contrato?

—Qué palabra tan fea —se ríe—. Piensa en ello como… una oportunidad.

—No quiero tu oportunidad.

—No lo entiendes, Cadence. No es una elección.

Su sonrisa desaparece.

Mi corazón late con fuerza.

—Me perteneces ahora.

CAPÍTULO 26

CADENCE
La habitación está en completo silencio.

Jarod Cross me observa, sus ojos oscuros brillando

con algo que no sé si es diversión o amenaza.

Me siento en el borde del colchón y mantengo la

mirada firme. No voy a mostrar miedo.

—No soy tu prisionera —digo con voz controlada.

—Eso depende de cómo quieras verlo.

—¿Y si digo que no?

Jarod se inclina contra la pared, cruzando los brazos

sobre su pecho.

—Entonces te haré una oferta que no podrás

rechazar.

Mi estómago se revuelve.

—No hay nada que quieras que yo haga.

—Oh, Cadence. Eres una estrella en ascenso. Tu voz,
tu presencia en el escenario… sería un desperdicio no
aprovecharlo.

—No quiero ser parte de tu mundo.

—¿No? —Se aleja de la pared y se acerca lentamente

—. Entonces, ¿por qué estás aquí?

Me trago la respuesta que quiere escuchar.

—Eso no te incumbe.

—Oh, pero sí me incumbe —sonríe—. Porque si

juegas bien tus cartas, podrías ganar más de lo que
imaginas.

Me pongo de pie.

—No quiero tu dinero.

—¿Y qué tal si te ofrezco algo más? —Su expresión
cambia, más calculadora—. Algo que quieres más
que cualquier otra cosa.

Me quedo inmóvil.

—Tengo información sobre Jinx.

Mi corazón deja de latir un segundo.

Él asiente, como si pudiera leer mi mente.

—Lo que realmente quieres no es venganza, es la

verdad. Yo puedo dártela.

Aprieto los puños.

—¿Cuál es el precio?

Su sonrisa se ensancha.

—Tu voz.
CAPÍTULO 27

CADENCE

Mi piel se eriza ante sus palabras.

—¿Quieres que cante para ti a cambio de información sobre Jinx?

Jarod Cross asiente con una sonrisa calculadora.

—Así de simple.

Nada en esto es simple.

—¿Y cómo sé que me dirás la verdad?

—Tendrás que confiar en mí.

Confianza. Qué broma.

Respiro hondo.

Serena merece justicia. Jinx merece pagar por lo que hizo.

Si esto es lo que debo hacer para obtener respuestas, entonces lo haré.

—Está bien —digo finalmente—. Cantaré para ti.

La sonrisa de Jarod se ensancha.

—Bienvenida al equipo, Cadence.

CAPÍTULO 28

DUTCH

Estoy perdiendo la cabeza.

Tres días sin Cadence. Sin una sola pista de dónde está.

No responde a sus mensajes. Nadie la ha visto en la escuela.

Algo no está bien.

Zane y Finn están conmigo en el auto, rastreando posibles ubicaciones.

—Jarod Cross la tiene —dice Zane, con voz tensa—. Lo sabemos.

—Pero sin pruebas, no podemos hacer nada —responde Finn.

Muerdo mi labio. No me importa si hay pruebas o no.

Voy a encontrarla.

Voy a traerla de vuelta.

Voy a destruir a cualquiera que se interponga en mi camino.

.
CAPÍTULO 29

CADENCE

Me cuesta respirar.

Jarod Cross me observa desde el otro lado de la habitación, con su típica

sonrisa encantadora pero vacía.

—No tienes que responder ahora mismo —dice con calma—. Tómate tu
tiempo.

Mi tiempo. Como si realmente tuviera una opción.

—¿Y si me niego? —pregunto, manteniendo la voz firme.

Jarod inclina la cabeza con interés.

—Entonces sería una pena. Pero dudo que quieras hacer eso.

—No puedes obligarme a cantar para ti.

Su sonrisa se ensancha.

—Oh, Cadence… Claro que puedo.

Mis dedos se aprietan en puños.

—¿Cómo esperas que confíe en ti?

—No espero que confíes en mí —responde, acercándose lentamente—.
Solo espero que aceptes la realidad.

Mis labios se separan, pero no sé qué responder.

—Si realmente quieres descubrir la verdad sobre Jinx, este es el camino

más rápido —añade—. Y lo sabes.

Me odia. No le importa lo que quiero o lo que necesito. Solo está jugando

conmigo.

Pero… ¿y si realmente tiene las respuestas que busco?

Si quiero justicia para Serena, tal vez este sea el sacrificio que debo hacer.

Levanto la barbilla.

—Está bien. Cantaré.

Jarod sonríe, satisfecho.

—Sabía que tomarías la decisión correcta.

CAPÍTULO 30

DUTCH

Estoy cansado de esperar.

Tres días sin Cadence. Tres días sin saber nada de ella.

No tengo paciencia para seguir con esto.

—Papá la tiene —digo con certeza, mirando a Finn y Zane.

—Lo sabemos —asiente Zane.

—Entonces, ¿qué estamos esperando?

Finn cruza los brazos.

—No tenemos pruebas. No podemos entrar así como así.

—¿Desde cuándo nos importan las reglas? —gruño.

Finn suelta un suspiro.

—Desde que queremos sacarla de ahí sin que termines en la cárcel otra vez.
Mi mandíbula se tensa.

Sé que tiene razón. Pero eso no significa que me guste.

—Entonces encontremos una forma de hacerlo bien —digo, con una

frialdad peligrosa—. Porque no voy a esperar más.

Voy a traerla de vuelta.

Voy a hacer que Jarod Cross pague.

Voy a quemar todo si es necesario.

 CAPÍTULO 31

CADENCE

El escenario es más grande de lo que imaginé.

Las luces son cegadoras, brillando con una intensidad que hace que el
mundo fuera de este pequeño espacio se desvanezca.

Mi corazón late con fuerza mientras sostengo el micrófono.

Jarod Cross está en la primera fila, observándome con una expresión de

triunfo.

No puedo creer que esté aquí.

No puedo creer que haya aceptado esto.

Pero aquí estoy.

La música comienza.
 Mis manos están frías y húmedas, pero cuando abro la boca y dejo salir
la primera nota, todo lo demás desaparece.

Por un momento, me pierdo en la canción.

Por un momento, me olvido de por qué estoy aquí.

Pero entonces abro los ojos y lo veo.

Jarod Cross, sonriendo como si hubiera ganado.

Y recuerdo.

No estoy aquí por la música.

Estoy aquí para descubrir la verdad.

Y haré lo que sea necesario para conseguirla.

 .

CAPÍTULO 32

DUTCH

—No está aquí —dice Finn, mirándome a los ojos. Está apoyado contra
el casillero de Cadence, con la vista fija en su libro.

—Ella no falta a clases —gruño. Mi corazón late rápido, como si algo

dentro de mí estuviera desgarrándose—. ¿Crees que papá…?

—¿Le haría daño? No —Zane niega con la cabeza.

—Sabe que eso desataría una guerra —me asegura Finn.

—No responde su teléfono. —Aprieto los puños y golpeo el casillero

junto al suyo—. ¿Por qué demonios no contesta? ¿Y si la secuestraron?

—Vi logró comunicarse con ella. Su teléfono funciona. Está bien —dice
Zane.

—Pero su madre…

Finn me interrumpe.
 —Es una adicta que no puede mantener su historia coherente.

—Ni siquiera sabemos si su madre decía la verdad sobre papá. Ese

celular con “evidencia” resultó ser un fracaso total —Zane frunce el ceño.

Golpeo el casillero otra vez, aún furioso por ese engaño.

Tina me hizo perder el tiempo.

Estoy harto de buscar en la dirección equivocada.

Necesito encontrar a Cadence.

Antes de que sea demasiado tarde.

 CAPÍTULO 33

CADENCE

Mis dedos tiemblan cuando me llevo la botella de agua a los labios.

El escenario está vacío ahora. Las luces se han atenuado. Pero mi

cuerpo sigue sintiendo el calor de los focos, la presión de cada mirada sobre
mí.

Jarod Cross me observa desde la distancia, con una sonrisa satisfecha.

—Lo hiciste bien —dice, inclinándose contra la mesa.

No respondo.

—¿Cómo se sintió? —pregunta, como si realmente le importara.

—¿Cómo crees? —mi voz es plana.

 Jarod se ríe entre dientes.

—Te veías como una estrella.

No sé qué responder. No quiero aceptar sus cumplidos, pero una parte

de mí sabe que tenía razón.

Cuando canto, el mundo desaparece.

Por un instante, olvidé dónde estaba. Olvidé por qué lo estaba haciendo.

Pero ahora lo recuerdo.

—Dijiste que me darías información sobre Jinx —digo con frialdad.

Jarod asiente lentamente.

—Y lo haré.

Pero algo en su tono me dice que aún no será tan fácil.

—Primero, tendrás que hacer algo más por mí.

Mi mandíbula se aprieta.

Debería haberlo sabido.

Con Jarod Cross, nada es gratis.

CAPÍTULO 34

DUTCH

El sol apenas ha salido cuando llegamos a la mansión de mi padre.

Finn y Zane están conmigo, ambos en silencio mientras contemplamos

la enorme casa frente a nosotros.

—¿Tienes un plan? —pregunta Finn, cruzándose de brazos.

—Entrar y sacarla —respondo sin dudar.

Zane resopla.

—Sencillo. Me gusta.

Finn suspira.
—Esto es una locura.

—¿Y qué más podemos hacer? —le lanzo una mirada—. No voy a
quedarme sentado mientras mi padre la retiene.

Finn se pasa una mano por el cabello, frustrado, pero no discute más.

Nos movemos hacia la puerta principal, pero antes de que podamos

tocar, se abre lentamente.

Lucien está de pie allí, con una expresión de absoluto desinterés.

—Sabíamos que vendrían —dice en tono seco.

Aprieto los dientes.

—Dile a mi padre que quiero verla.

Lucien nos observa por un momento y luego da un paso al lado.

—Adelante.

Nos miramos, sorprendidos por la falta de resistencia, pero no perdemos

la oportunidad.

Entramos.

Voy a encontrar a Cadence.

Voy a sacarla de aquí.

Voy a hacer que mi padre pague.

 Cueste lo que cueste.

CAPÍTULO 35

CADENCE

El eco de la última nota todavía vibra en mi piel cuando bajo del

escenario.

Jarod Cross me espera con una copa de vino en la mano y una sonrisa
calculadora.

—Sabía que tenías talento, pero esto… —sacude la cabeza con una
sonrisa—. Esto es otra cosa.

Mis músculos están tensos.

—Cantar no significa que confíe en ti.

—Oh, lo sé —dice con calma—. Pero la confianza se gana.

Muerdo el interior de mi mejilla.

—¿Tienes lo que te pedí?

Jarod se toma su tiempo, bebiendo un sorbo de vino antes de responder.

—Tengo algo. Pero necesito otra cosa de ti primero.

Mis dedos se aprietan en puños.

—Ese no era el trato.

—Los tratos cambian, Cadence. Bienvenida al mundo real.

La rabia burbujea en mi interior, pero la mantengo bajo control.

Voy a descubrir la verdad.

Voy a hacer que Jinx pague.

Incluso si tengo que vender una parte de mí en el proceso.

 CAPÍTULO 36

CADENCE

—Breeze tiene razón.

Le paso una servilleta a Serena, quien me agradece con una sonrisa

temblorosa.

—Y realmente no me molesta. Odio sentirme impotente. De esta

manera, tengo una oportunidad de hacer las cosas bien.

—Muchas gracias, Cadence. —Serena aprieta mi mano.

 —¡Cooper! —Una de las meseras me hace un gesto y luego señala a
Frankie.

Miro a través de la ventana de la cocina y veo a mi jefe mirándome

fijamente desde detrás de la parrilla.

—Tus quince minutos deben haber terminado —murmura Breeze.

—Tengo que volver al trabajo, chicas. —Reviso mi teléfono y confirmo

que ya pasaron cinco minutos de los quince que Frankie me dio. Me dio un
poco de margen esta vez. Probablemente porque vio a Serena llorando.

—Yo también debo irme —dice Serena—. Necesito ver cómo está mi
mamá.

—Te llevo al hospital. Mi mamá me prestó su camioneta hoy.

Breeze hace girar sus llaves alrededor de su dedo medio y levanta las
cejas.

Les digo adiós a las chicas y termino mi turno en la cafetería.

En el autobús de regreso a casa, reviso mi teléfono.

Tengo varios mensajes.

Serena: No sé qué hice para merecer una amiga como tú. Muchas
gracias, Cadence. Incluso si no funciona, nunca olvidaré lo que hiciste por
mí.

Dutch: ¿Ya empezaste alguna pelea, Brahms?

A pesar de mí misma, suelto una risita. ¿Quién se cree que es?

 Hay un mensaje más.

Es de Vi.

Viola: ¿Sabes dónde está mamá?

Mis hombros se tensan y deslizo mi dedo por la pantalla.

Nada.

Mamá no se ha puesto en contacto conmigo y, como no sé si siquiera

tiene un teléfono—mucho menos un número—no puedo comunicarme con
ella.

La frustración hierve en mi interior.

Le envío un mensaje a Vi.

“Estaré en casa pronto. Hablamos entonces.”

Quince minutos después, abro la puerta de mi apartamento y Viola salta

sobre mí.

—¿No crees que ese tipo asesino la haya atrapado, verdad?

Mi hermana menor se muerde el labio inferior. Hoy lleva maquillaje

otra vez. Se ve bien, más sutil que antes. Está empezando a encontrar lo que
le queda mejor.

—No, no lo creo. —El agotamiento pesa sobre mí, pero lo sacudo—.

¿Has comido?

Viola parpadea con sus largas pestañas y me sigue hasta la cocina.

 —¿Cómo lo sabes? ¿Y si mamá está en una zanja en algún lado? ¿Y si
cortaron su cuerpo en pedazos, lo metieron en una bolsa de basura y lo
arrojaron a un río?

Mi interior se congela.

Una parte de mí cree que, si mamá desapareciera de verdad, nuestras

vidas serían más fáciles.

Vi y yo sobrevivimos.

Seguiremos sobreviviendo, con o sin mamá.

Vi me da un golpe en el brazo.

—Cadey, ¿me estás escuchando?

—Sí, te escucho —respondo con cansancio, sacando el pan. Al menos

mamá no terminó esta barra de pan durante su ridículo intento de desayuno.
Hay suficiente para que Vi tenga un sándwich completo. Yo puedo comer la
última rebanada de pan con un par de trozos de salchicha.

—¿Acaso te importa? —me acusa.

—Por supuesto que me importa.

O al menos, quiero que me importe.

Pero mi corazón está endurecido.

.
 CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CADENCE

The voice that blasts from the doorway of The Kings’ practice room
surprises me. Since I’ve known the Cross brothers, no one has ever dared to
call them out.
Not in the hallways.
Not in the classrooms.
And definitely not in their own domain.
But Miss Jamieson doesn’t have an ounce of fear.
The moment Zane opens the door, she explodes past him and storms
right into the room. Chest heaving, she careens to a stop in front of Sol.
Dutch stiffens beside me, his eyes narrowing as if he’s bracing himself
for action. Finn’s watching it with a bored, almost detached look. Sol looks
slightly amused by it all.
And Zane…
I stare at Dutch’s twin, a little alarmed by his expression. Zane has this
intense, almost frightening gaze when he looks at Miss Jamieson. I don’t
know how to describe it except that it’s dark and… greedy.
Why is he looking at a teacher like he owns her?
Miss Jamieson’s angry brown eyes skip over everyone and land on
Sol.
She takes in a ragged breath. “You.” Sol
lifts his chin, unintimidated.
What’s going on?
 The room feels too charged for this to be a simple matter of a teacher
scolding us about skipping class.
And that scolding would be fully deserved.
I admit, since I embraced the privilege that comes with living in Dutch’s
shadow, I haven’t been concerned with my grades or my attendance. The
world suddenly felt much bigger than the halls of Redwood Prep.
But just because I felt that way doesn’t make it reality.
The truth is that I am still in high school.
I am still a scholarship student.
And I shouldn’t be here, so close to Dutch I’m practically sitting on his
lap, when school is going on.
I edge away from him, but it doesn’t matter. Miss Jamieson doesn’t
even notice me.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t mess with you boys.” She stomps
forward and her tight brown curls bounce against her back. “I was going to
leave you out of my fight, but now you’re starting to piss me off.”
“What are you talking about?” Zane says, folding his arms over his
chest. “What fight?”
She whips around and spears him with a heated gaze. “Did you all plot
to set the school on fire and have Serena expelled? Why? What did she do
to you? What is your obsession with hunting down scholarship girls and
ruining them?”
The boys don’t even bat an eye, so my surprised gasp echoes loudly in
the room.
It drags Miss Jamieson’s gaze to me.
She blinks in shock. “Cadence.”
“Uh… hi.”
“What are you doing in here?” A crease forms over her forehead. She
stiffens, her toned arms flexing and I can tell that her first thought is that
I’m in harm. Then she sees how relaxed I am and her eyes flicker with
confusion. “Are you… with them?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
 I swing my gaze up to the annoying leader of The Kings.
“She’s my fiancée,” Dutch says, draping a hand over my shoulder.
My eyes bug.
Miss Jamieson has the same reaction.
“Dutch.” My voice cracks. I try to push his hand off.
“I thought you should know,” Dutch says calmly, flicking his gaze to
my face and then back to our Lit teacher. “Since you’re family now.”
Miss Jamieson’s skin is the color of chocolate milk, but I still see her
pale a shade. Her throat bobs and she visibly struggles to maintain her
composure.
“This isn’t the time for jokes, Dutch. I want an explanation. And I want
it now.”
“An explanation for what?” Zane approaches her.
“Why did you go after Serena Parker?” Finn
snorts.
Miss Jamieson’s eyes snap to him. Her full brown lips tighten. “You
boys think this is funny?” Her nostrils flare. “I’ve kept my mouth shut. I’ve
cowered. I’ve done everything this ridiculous school has told me to do, but
I will not stand by while you ruin someone else’s shot at a better fut—ah!”
Miss Jamieson shrieks as Zane scoops her up and throws her over his
shoulder. I watch her heels kick up and down. I watch her skirt ride up. I
watch her pinch Zane and I see Zane smack her backside in retribution.
It feels like a slap to the face.
A brawny student like Zane.
A classy teacher like Miss Jamieson.
All the lines being blurred.
My heart jumps to my throat. It’s just… so wrong.
“Mr. Cross,” Miss Jamieson shrieks, “this is absolutely disrespectful.
You are crossing a line here!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Zane grumbles.
“Put me down at once!”
With a cocky nod at his brothers, Zane says, “I’ll explain things to her.
In private.”
 Dutch nods. “Have fun.” Sol
shakes his head and sighs.
Finn doesn’t stop playing his bass, but he does look up in
acknowledgement. I can tell he approves despite his expression not
changing much.
My heart rams against my ribs. Adrenaline quickens my pulse.
Are they letting Zane kidnap our teacher? Are they insane?
“Zane, stop.” I bounce to the edge of my seat. If they won’t do
anything, I will.
Miss Jamieson helped me out so much at Redwood. After Mulliez got
kicked out, she was my only ally. I can’t sit by while Zane carries her away
like Tarzan with Jane.
I take a step forward.
But one step is all I get.
Before I can react, Dutch grabs me by the waist and drags me into his
lap. I land with a thud, falling against his hard thigh.
“What are you doing? I need to help her.”
“No, you don’t.”
I squirm. “She’s our teacher.”
“She’s something else to him,” Dutch says cryptically. I lift my head to
his darkened gaze.
I see that he’s serious, and that he’s not going to share more.
What the hell is going on between Zane and Miss Jamieson? And why
did Dutch call her family?
Sol lazily climbs to his feet. I glance up. With us sitting down and him
standing, he looks extremely tall. None of The Kings are under six feet but,
for some reason, Sol feels like a giant.
He looks down at me, his face impossible to read. “Congratulations on
your engagement.”
“We are not engaged.”
“Thanks.” Dutch captures my hand and presses a kiss to my ring finger.
I grit my teeth.
 Sol says nothing more, but if he keeps scowling like that, the expression
is going to get permanent. His footsteps thump as he leaves the room,
slamming the door behind him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Finn says to his brother. He keeps plucking
the bass strings. “So unless you want an audience, I suggest you keep your
hands above your fiancée’s skirt.” “Read the room, Finn,” Dutch mutters.
Finn smirks. I get the sense that he lets Dutch lead the group because he
couldn’t be bothered. But he’s always waiting. Watching.
Calm as a still river with a rushing current underneath.
Dutch flips Finn the bird.
Finn rolls his eyes.
Grabbing the opportunity, I slip out of Dutch’s arms while he’s
distracted and dance back when he tries to swipe at me.
“I’m going to class.”
Dutch leans back, surveying me like a king on his throne. “I’ll pick you
up after.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He quirks an eyebrow as if to say I dare.
And he does.
Dutch walks me to and from classes, sits with me at lunch and repels
every living thing at Redwood Prep just by showing up.
After school, he drives me home and I’m stunned when I see Vi
climbing out of an unfamiliar car at the same time.
Panic screams through me. Fingers yanking on the handles, I push the
door open and throw it aside. My feet slam on the sidewalk.
I’m running, elbows pumping. Heart screaming. Lungs tightening.
The driver could be Jarod Cross, come to get his revenge after finding
Jinx’s device.
It could be the killer.
Or even worse.
It could be a boy who wants to date my sister.
Vi sees me. She smiles brightly, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Her
wave is big and enthusiastic.
 She’s okay.
But what if this is a warning? What if she’s only okay this time because
the driver wants to intimidate me?
I peer into the car, shocked when I see…
“Martina?”
“Have a good evening, señorita. I’m off to my tango lesson.”
Unleashing a broad smile, Dutch’s housekeeper waves and drives off.
I hear heavy footsteps behind me.
Dutch.
I whirl around. “What’s going on?” He
watches me, saying nothing.
“Martina said she’ll pick me up from now on. And look. She brought
me this drink called horchata. It’s delicious. By the way, did you know
Martina speaks the ancient language of the Mayas? Dutch, did you know
she was part Mayan? She said she’d teach me traditional Mayan makeup
for my channel.”
My jaw drops. “Why is Martina picking up my sister from school?”
Dutch’s eyes meet mine, amber pools surrounded by light. “From now
on, I’m driving you and your sister home.” Overprotective, controlling jerk.
My heart pounds. “Vi, can you give me a minute? I need to speak to
Dutch.”
“Okay.” My sister beams. “Later, Dutch.”
He nods. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. Pick a date and I’ll arrange
the amusement park passes for your friends.”
“Yes!” Vi pumps her fist. My little sister hurries away, dancing like she
just got a million bucks.
I turn slowly, pinning Dutch with a blistering stare.
“If you’re going to yell at me, at least do it in air conditioning.” He
turns sharply and stalks to his car.
My sneakers thump the ground as I stomp behind him. “You’re going
overboard.”
“You expect me to do nothing after hearing that your mom might have
witnessed a murder?” Dutch growls.
“She’s a liar. It might not have been that serious.”
 “It doesn’t matter.” He sinks into the front seat and juts his chin at the
passenger side. “Get in.”
I grab his door to keep him from locking it. Dutch’s eyes slick over my
body. Heat prickles through my stomach as his gaze darkens.
The dynamic between us is different with me standing and Dutch
looking up at me. I feel powerful and a little untouchable like this.
The crack of attraction thickens until it’s overtaking me.
“Back off, Dutch. I can take care of my family by myself. I don’t need
you. I don’t need anyone.”
If I say it loud enough and often enough, it doesn’t feel so much like a
lie. It doesn’t feel like the thinly-composed armor that I’ve been wearing all
my life. It feels real. More real than this… thing between us.
Dutch curves his fingers around my hips and my breath becomes
uneven. He skims a rough hand down my side. His hands bear the scars of
music. Years spent brutally sliding his fingers over nylon strings, wearing
them down to hard beds.
“You don’t have to need me. You don’t even have to want me. But
you’ve got me, Cadey. And since I’m here, you won’t ever have to struggle
by yourself again. I won’t let you. I forbid it. ” Broken notes haunt my
mind.
Quiet. Steady. Trilling.
I whimper as his fingers slip behind my back and find the dip of my
spine.
“You are more important to me than I am.” My
breath catches in my throat.
Dutch tugs me forward, pulling me into the car with him. His spicy
cologne fills the air around me and I inhale, getting drugged.
His lips curve up sharply. Not a smile. No, not even close. A warning.
“How long are you going to fight me?” he whispers.
I blink unsteadily. “As long as it takes.”
Dutch’s hand grazes the side of my face, sliding a single fingertip down
my throat. “How do you think I’d feel if something happened to you or
Vi?”
 “I told you. We’re fine.” My body loosens without my permission. It’s
like I have no control around him. Like all my defenses have been so badly
damaged by our past encounters that I can’t even begin to protect myself.
Dutch guides me up on my knees. He secures an inked arm around me,
holding me steady as he rolls his chair all the way back. “Fine isn’t good
enough. I want you safe.”
The chair makes a click sound, slamming to a stop. Dutch has it as far
back as it can go, but there’s still not enough room. I’m squashed between
his body and the steering wheel and the space gets even smaller when he
closes the door.
“No one showed up yet.” I put a hand on his shoulder, my head falling
back as his hands slip under my shirt.
The only bad guys I’ve encountered bear the last name Cross. But mom
didn’t exactly drag them into my life. They came on their own.
“And they won’t get a chance to.” Dutch frowns as he rolls his hips. His
eyes burn like hellfire. “If anyone hurts you, they won’t live long enough to
regret it.”
“Dutch.” It’s supposed to be a scolding, but it sounds more like a groan.
I can’t help it. His hands are skating over my aching skin, branding me like
pure fire.
My heart is beating so loudly that I can’t even hear the music in my
head. My pulse drowns it out too.
It’s all percussions.
All ancient, animalistic war drums.
While I’m unraveling, Dutch is in complete control. I can feel his
confidence when he moves my body over his lap, scrubbing me against his
jeans.
“You’re lucky it’s just Martina. I considered hiring a security team.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t you—”
His tongue plunges into my mouth chasing away the rest of my words.
A gasp tears out of me and I find myself clinging to his hair, grappling for
some sense of control in the rapidly chaotic kiss.
Dutch pushes me back. His voice is a low and tortured sound. “Off.”
 He’s pure beast. Pure caveman. No time for cohesive sentences even as
he instructs me to undress.
“What are you doing?” I pant. “We’re right in front of my apartment.”
He rolls my tights down my legs and I arch my back as he growls, “The
windows are tinted.”
It’s a good point and he makes an even better one when his hands
descend on me. Fondling. Caressing. Guiding. I erupt into a flame of heat
and need, wrapping myself around him as we exchange what little oxygen
is left in the car.
Suddenly, I hear a knock on the window.
Both our heads launch up.
My hair is in my face and my eyes are dazed. Plus the windows are so
fogged up that I can’t see anything.
And then the fog clears.
I meet a pair of familiar brown eyes.
“Oh my gosh!” I screech.
The thick, pulsing desire in my body wipes out in an instant. Shame and
embarrassment floods me next. I try to climb out of Dutch’s lap, but we’re
pressed so tightly together that I almost knee him in the jaw.
My elbow hits the steering wheel. The car horn blows loudly,
announcing to everyone that we’ve been caught—both literally and
figuratively—with our pants down.
Can someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery already?
“Who is it?” Dutch asks, his voice laced with a threat as he zips up.
“How do you know this guy?”
I button my shirt in a panic and pull my skirt back on with shaky hands.
“He’s my brother.”

Jinx: Royal Brothers Get Lonely Too

 This royal family sure do love to pick the hardest, most thorny roads to
love. But when a Snare King can have any woman he wants in his bed, it
makes sense that he would choose the woman he can’t have.
You want names, but I don’t kiss and tell. Not without evidence.
Whispers are all I have for now.
Pics of the Snare King capturing his prey for dinner or it didn’t happen.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even
closer.
- Jinx
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CADENCE

“What the hell is going on?” Rick’s entire face is red. The wind tugs at his
short hair as if trying to cool him off, but it isn’t working. Any minute now,
his head is going to explode and pure lava will shoot out of his neck.
“Rick!” My voice is high-pitched and thick with guilt. “W-what are you
doing here?”
“What are you doing, Cadence? Or should I say, who were you doing?”
His eyes narrow on Dutch.
“He’s nobody.”
I feel rather than see Dutch glare at me.
“Nobody? It’s freaking broad daylight and you’re out here wilding out
with ‘nobody’. What the hell is wrong with kids these days? Is this even
legal? How old are you?”
“I wasn’t. We weren’t—”
 “I wasn’t talking to you, Cadence.” “I’m
eighteen,” Dutch says calmly. Rick’s
eyes bug. “I’m going to kill you!” I skid
in between him and Dutch.
“Get out of the way, Cadence!”
“Rick, it’s not what you think.”
“Don’t even give me that B.S. The car was rocking so hard I thought we
were having an earthquake. I barely saw your face through all the steam on
the windshield and if this idiot didn’t moan your name loud enough for the
neighborhood to hear, I never would have thought it was you.”
Dutch lifts his chin, his face pulled into its usual stoic expression.
While I’m dying of humiliation, he seems noticeably relaxed. Rick sees
Dutch watching him and grits his teeth. “What, punk?” “You look
familiar.”
“How about you shut your face, you idiot?” Rick growls, looking three
seconds away from throwing a punch.
I’m surprised by Rick’s passionate defense of my ‘honor’. Most of the
time, he treats me and Vi like burdens. At his birthday party, he looked
irritated by our presence. I was pretty sure he hated me.
Dutch’s gaze passes over him, thoughtful. It’s irritating how composed
he is in this moment.
Rick finds it irritating too because he takes a threatening step forward.
“Oh right.” Dutch’s voice is light. As if we’re having a tea party or a
casual conversation. “You’re the security who was talking to Redhead—”
he smoothly corrects himself, “Cadence that night at the park.”
“Redhead?” Rick scrunches his nose. Recognition lights in his eyes a
moment later. “That night when I saw you dressed up in a wig…” He
pauses and says in horror. “You’re the stalker?”
I wince, remembering that night. Dutch set up a concert just to meet my
alter ego. At the time, I was trying to get away from Rick and referred to
Dutch as my ‘stalker’ to push them both off.
A corner of Dutch’s lips curl upward. He’s not bothered by the label.
“Cadence, you’re hooking up with your stalker now?”
 My mouth opens and then slams shut. How do I explain everything to
Rick? Should I even bother?
Dutch reaches out to take my hand, fingers rubbing over my naked ring
finger. “I’m Dutch Cross. I wanted to meet more of Cadey’s family, but I
hadn’t realized we’d already met before.” “Don’t talk to me like we’re
related, you—”
“Dutch was just leaving,” I say quickly, shoving his arm before Rick
decides to break out a knife or something.
The stubborn ruler of Redwood Prep doesn’t budge a single inch.
I look up at Dutch with pleading eyes.
He arches a brow, unmoved.
Desperate, I slide my hand up Dutch’s back. Rick’s eyes bug and I can
tell he wants to drag me away, but I focus on Dutch instead. My fingers
skate over the expensive fabric of his starch white shirt and press into all
the places where I marked his skin that night in the treehouse.
I keep my touch light and my voice coaxing, “I haven’t seen my brother
in a really long time. Can you give us some space to talk?”
He tilts his head to one side, considering my request. He can see right
through me, but I can see right through him too.
Back when he didn’t know I was Redhead, I could bend Dutch to my
will. He was soft for me. Eager to please.
And I still have that power.
Because I am Redhead.
Dutch glances down at me, studying me like he expects me to admit
that I’m doing all this intentionally. Does he think I’d crack so easily?
I press my body into his, one arm slung along his lean waist, and I
smile. “If you give in now, I’ll return the favor.” I rise on my tiptoes and
whisper thickly in his ear, “You can do whatever you want to me for one
night.”
He doesn’t even blink.
What? Sex isn’t enough to placate him?
Rick growls, “Cadence, get him out of here before I tell Hunter and my
boys to teach this doofus a lesson.”
Frustrated, I whip my eyes to Dutch. “Rick isn’t going to hurt me.
You can go.”
Still nothing.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” I spit.
“You’ll call?” Dutch’s lips curl up a fraction of an inch.
Internally, I freeze.
That’s it.
The crack that I’ve been waiting for.
He softens, his tense shoulders, his full, dangerous lips, his eyes.
I push on the crack just far enough to make him break.
“I’ll call you and tell you everything,” I promise. “I won’t leave
anything out.” There.
He finally loses the fight and gives in.
I can see it.
It strikes me then, in the deepest caverns of my heart, that Dutch Cross
doesn’t just want to screw me. He genuinely wants to know me. I didn’t
believe it before. Who would? The most powerful guy on campus… drawn
to me? Ridiculous.
And yet I’m starting to think that I can trust him.
I offered my body up on a platter, and it didn’t mean as much as a
simple phone call. An invitation into my life. A promise to share my
thoughts, my burdens, my words.
It’s a little disconcerting to see the depth of his feelings and I have to
blink to regain my bearings.
Dutch presses his hot mouth to my cheek, sending the butterflies in my
stomach flying. I have to resist the urge to turn my head and let his mouth
graze my lips instead.
Rick launches over to us, but Dutch just smirks.
“See you later, bro.”
“Bro? I’m not your bro!” Rick yells at Dutch’s retreating back.
Dutch doesn’t bother responding. He climbs into his car.
Rick fumes. “Is he one of those rich brothers in the rock band my girl
likes?”
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly.
“Why is he taking you home then?”
 “Because he likes me.” I stare at Dutch’s car as it drives past us.
“You? Why?”
I frown and whip my head back to Rick.
My half brother gasps. “He’s not paying you for sex, is he? Oh my go—
Cadence, mom didn’t turn you into a prostitute to feed her habit, did she?”
“No. He’s…” I inhale deeply and let the word drift off my tongue.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
Rick’s eyes go wide. “People like him don’t date people like us,
Cadence. Not seriously.”
I fold my arms over my chest, feeling dumb and a little exposed. I never
in a million years thought I’d voluntarily claim Dutch Cross as my
boyfriend. Rick pointing out the obvious isn’t helping me feel any better.
“What do you want?” I ask roughly.
He scowls, and seems to debate whether he should continue ragging me
about Dutch. My expression must show how unwelcome that would be
because he sighs and glances down.
“It’s about mom.”
I wince. Rick and mom have a complicated history. I’ve been dragging
my feet about telling him mom’s back because I don’t know what that’ll do
to him. The less people who suffer because of mom’s reappearance, the
better.
Rick’s eyes lift to mine. “She’s not dead.”
“Oh.” I breathe out in relief. “You knew.”
His head whips up. Shock tightens his voice. “Why do you sound so
calm?”
“Mom showed up a couple weeks ago.” I fold my arms over my chest.
The sun is starting to set and the wind is picking up with a cold chill. “It
was only for one day. We haven’t seen her since.”
Dutch is actually the last person who saw mom. I don’t know what that
means or why she’d prefer to spend her time lying to him rather than
visiting her own children.
“She pawned one of my rings and left half the money with me. I
thought she’d be back for it, but she hasn’t.” I tilt my head. “Maybe she
skipped town.”
 Rick shakes his head. “She didn’t.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because,” he licks his lips, “for the past few days, she’s been crashing
at my place.”
 CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CADENCE

I stalk into Rick’s cramped apartment, grab my mother by the wrist and
yank her up all before she even recognizes that it’s me.
“Cadey, what a—what a wonderful surprise…”
“We’re leaving,” I growl. “Where’s her stuff?”
“She didn’t have much.”
“I borrowed his girlfriend’s clothes.” Mom smirks. “She’s a little on the
thick side so the clothes don’t fit right, but we have to do what we have to
do.”
Rick’s eyes harden.
“Shut up, mom,” I snap.
She slurs, “Watch your tone, young lady. I’m still your mother.”
“My mother? Aren’t you ashamed to call yourself that?” Mom
tilts her head, eyes innocent as can be.
Inside my chest, I’m screaming bloody murder. “We’re leaving, Rick.
Whatever clothes mom used, burn it. Tell your girlfriend I’ll pay for new
ones.”
“Cadey, slow down,” mom whines.
A shadow fills the door while I’m pulling mom to the exit.
It’s Hunter.
His soulful brown eyes fall on me and my breath hitches in my throat.
“Cadence?”
I don’t have time for an awkward reunion right now. Stepping past him,
I drag mom behind me. She bats her eyelashes at Hunter when she passes
him by, and slides a veiny finger down his forearm.
 “Ooh. Muscles,” she whispers.
I give her a big yank and drag her down the stairs.
“Cadence, wait!” Rick’s footsteps thunder behind me. “Let me help
you.”
“Yes, Ricky-baby.” Mom pats his cheek. “You should help your
mommy.”
Rick’s jaw works. He looks like he’s being tortured.
How did he put up with mom for this long? Why would he put up with
her at all?
I jerk mom’s arm hard. My eyes on Rick, I grind out, “We’re leaving.
Don’t follow me.”
Rick remains standing on the stairs, looking at us and not coming any
closer. Why would anyone want to come close to this mess? If I had a
choice, I’d run away too. Run so far that no one could catch me.
But I’m chained here.
There’s no running from a darkness this thick.
“Cadence, you’re hurting me.” Mom yelps in pain when I tighten my
grip in response.
I pull her with me to the bus stop. She’s drunk off her face, which
makes it a lot easier to maneuver her around. Unfortunately, her flopping
arms means she slaps me in the face every time the bus takes a steep curve.
By the time I walk off the bus, night has fallen, my cheeks are stinging
and I’m so pissed off that it feels like my skin is on fire.
When I finally wrestle mom to the apartment and stuff her through the
door, Vi is sitting in the living room with her phone, a ring light and all her
makeup tools.
She sees mom and immediately shuts her camera off. “What happened?
Where did you find her?”
“At Rick’s.”
Vi’s face goes pale. “All this time?”
“No, it seemed like a recent thing.”
“Where was she staying before that then?” Vi asks.
“I don’t know.”
 “Ugh.” Mom kicks off her shoes and wiggles her toes. She digs her
fingers into her thinning hair. “Everyone hates me. Everyone!”
Vi stares at mom with anguish in her eyes. It’s been a long time since
we’ve seen mom on a bender. It’s frightening when the person who’s
supposed to be taking care of you can’t even take care of herself.
“Vi,” I touch her arm gently, “go to your room. I’ll handle this.”
My sister doesn’t argue. She nods and hurries away, leaving all her
makeup things behind.
I stare at my mother’s thin face. A seemingly innocent statement Rick
said to me after his birthday party rises to memory.
‘You need to be careful.’
‘Why?’
‘Just… be careful.’
At the time, I didn’t know what he was talking about. But in hindsight,
my brother was warning me about mom. That means mom was leeching off
him before she even thought of stealing from us.
Disgusted, I glare at her. “Why would you ask Rick for anything after
the way you abandoned him? Don’t you have a heart? Shouldn’t you be
ashamed to even look at him?”
Mom scratches her wrist. She’ll need a fix soon.
My heart balloons with pain and I feel like I’m going to explode. I need
a breath. I need a moment to just… not hurt.
But I force myself to keep being the strong one.
I step into Vi’s room. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” My sister’s long brown hair swings over her shoulder. “It’s just
weird, you know? I’d gotten used to life without her. Now, it feels like
things are back to normal and the life we were living before was the
dream.”
“Vi…”
“What?” Her sweet, innocent eyes fall on me. I want to protect her so
much it hurts, but I’m so tired.
‘I won’t let you struggle alone.’ Dutch’s words sooth me. What would
happen if I abandoned my senses and let myself fall into him? Would I find
that protection in Dutch? Would it hurt less than it does right now?
 I want to.
So badly.
I want him to rescue me.
I’m trembling, but I don’t even realize it until my sister walks into me
and slides her arms around my waist. I feel the tears pressing against my
eyes, but I don’t let them drop.
“It’s okay,” Vi says, smoothing a hand down my back.
“I’m the one who should be telling you that.”
Vi eases back and gives me a smile that’s wise beyond her years. “We
can remind each other.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat.
Suddenly, I hear a crash from outside.
Vi and I hurry out and find mom rummaging through the cupboard,
looking for food.
“Do you have any chips?” mom demands.
I’m not surprised by her sudden energy boost. Mom can crash into a
drunken slumber one minute and then wake up, fully present and
annoyingly smug, the next.
“My head is killing me,” she complains. “Rick buys the cheap stuff. I
need to teach him where to get the goods.”
I frown. “Sit down, mom. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I don’t want a sandwich.” “Then you won’t eat,” I
snap.
She frowns at me and sinks into a chair around the table. “Testy.” Vi
joins me. “Need some help?” I shake my head.
“Viola, baby, can you get your mommy some water?” Vi
gives me a look as if asking for my permission first.
I jut my chin at the fridge.
While Vi pours, I slap two pieces of bread on a plate and slather it in
condiments.
“I heard you had a busy day yesterday, mom,” I say tightly.
“Mff.” She makes a coarse grunt before gulping down all the water.
“What did you think about Dutch when you met him? He’s a little
intense, right?”
Mom chokes and a flood of water spews from her mouth.
 Vi shrieks and jumps back to avoid getting doused.
Unbothered, I slap meat on the bread, shove the sandwich together and
drop the plate in front of mom. “Why did you send Dutch to
Sinner’s Den?” She
glances away.
“Did you know I’d be there?” The
dots connect.
Mom lying about having evidence on Jarod Cross.
Jarod telling me to get evidence on Dutch.
Me coincidentally spying on the brothers ‘with drugs’.
I lower my voice urgently, “Mom, are you working with Jarod
Cross?”
Her eyes dart back and forth.
Vi brings mom a napkin. “Cadey, why would mom know a celebrity
like Jarod Cross. That’s like a homeless guy having Oprah’s phone
number.”
“Answer me, mom.”
Mom ignores me and points a strained smile at Vi. “How was your
weekend, sweetie?”
“Fine,” Vi mumbles. “We hung out with Dutch and then I had to do a
group project.”
I cringe at Vi’s mention of Dutch.
Mom pounces on it right away. Her body stiffens. “Cadence, you were
with that boy all weekend?”
“No,” I lie.
“Yes,” Vi says.
We both glance at each other.
Mom stiffens. “You were with him alone?”
I say nothing.
Mom pins her dark eyes on my little sister. She looks sharper than she
ever has before.
Viola breaks easily. “Cadey stayed out with Dutch all night an didn’t
come back until morning.” “Viola!” I hiss.
“Sorry. She scares me.”
 Mom shoots up so fast, the chair behind her topples. It crashes to the
floor, making both me and Vi jump. “Come with me,” mom barks. “I’m not
going anywhere—” “Now!” Mom hisses.
My anger rushes to the surface and I stay right where I am.
“No, mom. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to rush in here after
disappearing again and act like my mother when you’ve been anything but
a mother to me. I’m not going anywhere with you. Not until you tell me
exactly what kind of deal you have with Jarod—” “Did you use a condom?”
I freeze.
“How many times did he discharge? Were you using protection every
time? Was it around or before your period?” My eyes widen.
Vi’s are about to pop out of her head.
My chest heaves, but I’m trapped. Mom is going to keep talking about
this in front of Vi and I don’t want her to hear such crude discussions.
At least, not when I’m the subject.
Muscles so tense I feel like I’m a walking tin can, I stalk past mom and
open the door. She doesn’t immediately follow me. Instead, she goes into
my room.
“Get out of there!” I hurry after her.
But I don’t have to drag her out. She meets me in the hallway and tosses
my purse at me.
“Why do you have this?”
“You’re gonna need that.” Her expression is hard.
Thoroughly pissed off, I trail mom to the door.
“Where are you going?” Viola’s voice trembles.
“Vi, lock up behind me. We’ll be right back,” I say. I try to muster up a
smile, but I can’t pull it off.
Vi gives me a worried look, but I don’t have time to comfort her.
Mom is already halfway down the stairs.
I follow my mother outside. “Where are we going?”
She doesn’t answer. Her body cuts through the night, dipping in and out
of the shadows and the pockets of light offered by the lampposts.
We jog through the streets for what feels like hours.
 Finally, I get enough and wrench mom around by the shoulder. “Tell me
where we’re going.” She opens her mouth, but I stop her with a raised
finger. “And if you think I’m going to buy you drugs right now, you’re
insane.”
Mom gestures to the store up ahead. It’s the same pharmacy where
Dutch bought me flip-flops and patched up my bleeding heel.
The man behind the counter is the same guy from that night too. He
points at me. “Flip-Flops.” I frown.
“Where’s the Tattoo Guy?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“How long have you been here, boy?” Mom grunts. “Don’t you know
not to ask questions in this neighborhood?”
The clerk’s smile disappears and he gives mom a sullen nod.
I stumble when mom yanks me down an aisle. Past the tampons.
Past the pads. Past the pregnancy tests.
“Grab them.” She reaches for a thin box and then another.
The price tag makes me gag.
I stop her, my hand on her wrist. “What are you doing?”
“We can’t take any chances.” Her voice is low, urgent. She sounds like
she’s about to rehash her alien abduction. “Grab those over there. They’re
more experimental, but it might be effective. We may already be too late.
It’s hard to be sure.”
“Mom, I already asked you. What is—”
“Plan B.” She spears me with her glazed eyes. I’m stunned when I see
genuine fear in them. “You can’t get pregnant, Cadey.”
I blush, feeling exposed. Me? Pregnant? The thought is foreign. I never
once dreamed of having a family someday, and I sure as hell don’t dream of
having one now.
“Who said I’m pregnant?” I snap.
Mom berates me. “Sex has consequences, girl. It’s a principle. You
jump off a roof, gravity doesn’t give a damn about you or what you want
for your future. It’s going to pull you down. You sleep with Jarod Cross’s
son… it’ll pull you down the same way.” Her eyes cut into me.
“You should have never gotten involved with him.” On
that we both agree.
 Dutch is temptation wrapped in ink and I kept finding myself under his
spell. It’s like he has a hold on me that I can’t break.
“And you should have done this earlier,” mom scolds me. Her hands are
trembling as she turns a box over and compares it to the other.
“When was the last time you two—?”
“Mom.”
“When?”
I blush harder. “Today.” Her
bottom lip goes stiff.
“But it wasn’t…” My cheeks burn so hard it hurts. “It wasn’t our first
time. That was a while ago.”
Mom grits her teeth. “You better hope you didn’t take too long to take
your meds.”
“It’s not like I didn’t try,” I mumble. After Dutch took my virginity, I
went to ask for medication just in case. The pharmacists said I couldn’t buy
the pills if I was under eighteen.
I didn’t freak out about it. Back then, I thought me and Dutch would be
a one-and-done thing. I didn’t know he would be this insatiable. I didn’t
know… it could happen anywhere, at any time.
And it seems like Dutch wants me all the time.
“Stop.” I push the pills back on the shelf because the only thing worse
than buying this by myself is buying it with my mother. “I’ll handle it.”
“Oh, you’ll handle it?” Mom taunts.
“I’ll come back. I swear.” I lower my voice. “But right now, I don’t
have enough money to get all this.”
“So you’re going to throw away your future because you don’t have a
couple hundred?”
“Dutch and I will talk about—”
She lets loose a cackle so loud, that a couple in the row behind us peer
around the corner.
“Dutch isn’t going to take care of this for you, Cadey. He wants this
problem.”
My eyebrows knot.
 “How could you let him use you?” Mom hesitates, her hands over the
pregnancy test. She swipes it into her arms. “How could you be so
unbelievably stupid? At the very least, you should have made sure you were
on the pill.”
I lower my head. I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about this,
especially not Breeze who would rake me over the coals for getting this
deep into the boy who tortured me.
“If Dutch gets what he wants, it’s over for you,” mom hisses. “Over!”
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes dart back and forth as if someone is watching her. “Hurry and
pay for this. You’re taking one right now.”
“No,” I grab her arm, sensing that there’s something she isn’t telling
me. “Spit it out. You know something.”
“No, I don’t.”
She’s shaking like a hurricane now. A mixture of withdrawal and
nerves.
“I’m not taking a single pill until you tell me.”
Discomfort etches into her weathered face when she says, “Look, I’m
not supposed to know this and you aren’t either.”
I lean closer, my heart pounding and my palms sweaty.
Mom’s throat bobs and she whispers, “I overheard a conversation I
wasn’t supposed to. Something about the Cross family, an inheritance and
two conditions the heir has to meet.”
As she talks, invisible thorns wind around my body and dig into my
flesh.
“What were they?” I choke out.
Mom flinches.
“What were the conditions!” I shriek.
“Whoever gets the money has to be married…”
‘What are those?’
‘Handcuffs.’
‘Marry me, Cadey.’
 ‘You don’t have to struggle alone.’ I
stumble back, my throat closing up.
“… And,” mom adds, “they need to have a son.”
My knees weaken and I’m crashing into the ground. My hands flail for
purchase, but I can’t save myself. My mad descent is followed by boxes
and boxes of pregnancy tests and morning-after pills thundering to the
ground.
CHAPTER FORTY

DUTCH

I’m not much of a songwriter, but being with Cadey has lyrics gushing out
of me like blood from a head wound.
Finn and Zane come later and catch me working out a melody with my
guitar. I acknowledge my brothers with a chin dip, but I keep playing. I
don’t want to lose this thread.
They understand and say nothing until the last note rings through our
studio garage.
“Sounds good,” Finn says.
“A little more romantic than our usual sound though.” Zane opens the
mini-fridge. I see my twin hesitate as he reaches for his usual beer and then,
in a surprising show of restraint, he goes for a soda instead.
“I’m thinking of a rhythmic bass line.” I meet Finn’s eyes. “Less
hardcore rock. Heavier on the funk.”
“Don’t think a funky bass line will save you. I know a love song when I
hear one.” Zane takes a swig of the soda.
Finn squints at my guitar like an old man who forgot his glasses.
“Did you get new strings?”
 “No.”
Zane bounds over and peers closer at the strings. “C-A-D-E-Y… Dutch,
is that a heart on your E string?”
“Mind your own business.” I shove him back.
Zane shakes his head. “He’s gone, Finn. Totally gone.”
I rest my guitar in my lap and balance my elbows over it. “How did
your conversation with Miss Jamieson go? Did she forgive you for
throwing her over your shoulder?”
As expected, Zane’s cocky laughter dies a sudden death.
Out of my two brothers, he’s the last one who should be making fun of
me.
Finn turns to him, eyes inquiring. “Jinx didn’t rat you out.”
“That’s because I traded a secret with her as soon as I was done with
our dear step-sister.”
My eyebrows hike. This is the first time I’ve heard Zane refer to Miss
Jamieson as our step-sister without descending into a drunken stupor or
pounding his heart out on the drums.
“What secret?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I set the guitar on the stand and stretch my back. I don’t feel the strain
while I’m playing but, as soon as the music ends, it’s like the world chomps
at the bit to remind me I’m human.
“I know you guys have been worried about me,” Zane adds soberly. He
scrapes the heel of his hand against his cheek. “I spazzed out trying to force
myself to do what I thought I was supposed to.”
“And?” I ask, sensing he’s come to some sort of revelation.
“After today, I’ve decided to do things my way. Even if it’s complicated
as hell.” Finn watches him quietly.
I do too.
Zane isn’t asking for our permission and I can tell that he’s made up his
mind. However, I offer my encouragement anyway.
“Screw what people think,” I assure him. “Whatever your plan is, we’ve
got your back.”
 Finn smirks. “As long as you don’t paint her name on your drums.” I
pretend to throw a punch.
Zane slaps me on the back. “I heard about Brahms storming Harris’s
office. You sure you can handle being married to a stubborn girl like that?
She won’t let you win any arguments.”
“We’ve got our own type of conflict resolution.” I smirk crookedly.
Finn says nothing, but his eyes glint with understanding.
“You’re not fooling anyone, you filthy animal,” Zane jokes.
Finn picks up his bass guitar and slings the strap over his neck. “Play
that melody again and let me see if I can find the rhythm you were thinking
of.”
Zane jumps behind the drums.
I oblige my brothers by grabbing my guitar, but before I play a note, I
warn them, “I’m expecting a call from Cadey tonight. The minute this
phone rings, practice is over.”
“Whipped!”
“Don’t bring your married vibes in here!”
I laugh at their protests, bring my phone close so I can see when it
buzzes, and start working out the new song.
Thirty minutes ticks by.
And then an hour.
And then two hours.
At first, I don’t notice.
Since meeting Cadey, my relationship with music has been changing.
I find myself getting lost in it more often than before.
Eventually, I start to notice how late it’s getting.
“Why the hell hasn’t she called?” I mumble, swiping my phone roughly
and checking my messages.
Nothing.
“Zane, can you text me?”
Behind his drum set, my brother taps on his phone.
At once, I get a message from my twin.
It’s the middle finger emoji.
“It’s working,” I growl.
 “Maybe she’s sleeping,” Finn says.
“She promised she’d call,” I growl. “She should be done talking to her
brother by now.”
“Don’t be clingy, bro. It’s not a good look,” Zane warns.
“What if she’s hurt—”
“She’s probably fine,” Finn says, giving me a look.
“You’re going to be married. Do you want to smother her before you’ve
even said ‘I do’? What if she decides she doesn’t want to be with someone
who can’t give her a break?”
“We’re in dangerous times.”
“There will always be danger, bro. If this is how you’re acting before
marriage, imagine how much worse you’ll be when you move in together?”
I glance at Finn.
My brother shrugs. “This might be a test. Maybe she wants to see if you
go ballistic if she doesn’t keep her promise.” “Ballistic? Why would I go
ballistic?” Finn shrugs again.
I tap my phone against my leg. I’m not angry. I’m just worried. Cadey’s
in dad’s sight and, since her mom set me up, her mom is in dad’s pocket
too. Their entire family has a big red target on their back because of me.
“Cool off, Dutch.” Finn sets his guitar away and pins me with his quiet
gaze. “If she needs you, she’ll call.”
It goes against my grain, but I take my brother’s advice and set my
phone down.
Cadey might still be with her brother, or she might be with Vi, or she
might even be with her other friends celebrating Serena’s return to
Redwood.
I don’t want to keep her from having her own life. And I don’t want to
police every free moment she has.
Space. I can do that.
But as the night wears on and then morning creeps into my room, I
can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.
My phone has a ton of new updates—as usual.
But none of them are from my fiancée.
 Don’t panic yet, Dutch. You can interrogate her at school.
I leave the house first, rushing to Redwood Prep before the sun is up
properly. Cadey doesn’t have work service anymore, but I wouldn’t put it
past her to stubbornly continue the job just because I’m the one who
arranged the pardon for her.
The sun creeps over the tree tops.
My phone tags the hours as they slip past.
More students arrive.
They all watch me, prowling and pacing the front steps of Redwood like
an agitated beast waiting for its mate.
No Cadey.
I send her another text.
Then a call.
Screw space.
Why isn’t she at Redwood? Is she sick? Did she get kidnapped?
A little after the first morning bell chimes, Zane and Finn walk toward
me. They’re not alone.
“Serena,” I say, nodding at the goth chick with the ebony hair and bright
red lipstick. With the leather jacket, she looks like she’ll either climb on
someone’s bike or rob someone.
Four months ago, I didn’t give a damn about Serena Parker. I didn’t
even know her name. But she’s Cadey’s friend and so she’ll have a place at
my table.
I stalk toward her so intently that she drops back a step. Hauling to a
stop in front of her, I growl, “Have you heard from Cadence?” “No. Why?
Isn’t she here?” My jaw works.
Finn motions to Serena and juts his chin at the doorway.
She scowls at the instruction but, after taking a look at my face, decides
to make herself scarce.
“You think she’s lying?” I bark at my brothers.
“We can’t do anything if she is.”
“Of course we can.”
“What do you want us to do? Torture her into telling us the truth?” Zane
snorts.
 I consider it.
Finn gives me a dark look. “Dutch.”
I run a hand through my hair. Something isn’t right. I can feel it in my
chest. All the way down to my bones.
“She still hasn’t reached out to you?” Zane asks.
“She said she’d call.” My ribs feel like someone’s grabbing them,
oneby-one, and snapping them like twigs. “She hasn’t called yet. She’s not
at school. She’s not answering my texts.”
“I’ll call Vi,” Zane says. “Maybe Cadey’s sick or something.”
Deep in my chest, I know that’s not the case.
But there’s no freaking law against hoping, is there?
I wait while my brother makes the call.
Zane twirls a drumstick in one hand, listening. Finally, he shakes his
head. “Vi’s probably in class. She’s not picking up.” “Dammit.” I surge
down the stairs.
Finn grabs my shoulder.
I stop mid-step and glare a hole through his face. “Let me go.”
“You could be over-reacting.”
“If you’re right, I lose nothing. But if you’re wrong…” I stare my
brother in the eyes. “I lose everything.”
His fingers slowly drift off my shoulder.
I race down the stairs, jump into my car and speed across town to the
south side. Cadey’s old high school. The first thing I see when I slow my
car down are the chains. Chains so rusted and sharp they looked like they
were guarding a prison.
When I get inside, I have to stop at a metal detector. I’m seething with
impatience. Every security check slows me down.
What the hell is this place?
I hate Redwood Prep, but at least we don’t have to freaking strip
ourselves of metal every morning before we go in.
“Is that Dutch Cross?”
“No way!”
“Is that the guy from the band…”
“He’s so handsome!”
 “Am I dreaming right now?”
I hear their whispers, but I’m on a mission.
Spotting a kid who looks around Vi’s age, I stop her with a hand.
“Viola Cooper. Do you know her?”
The kid starts shaking like I asked for her lunch money.
“Answer me,” I hiss. “Y-
yes.”
“Take me to her.”
She turns, drawing the eye of everyone in the hallway as we dip and
weave past busted lockers, weathered school posters and classrooms that
smell like hopelessness.
I grit my teeth at the thought of Cadey spending day after day here. She
deserves only the finest things—bright lights, diamonds, utter adoration.
“In there.” My guide points into a cramped classroom filled with so
many students I wonder if it’s legal to keep that many people in one room.
On a weathered chair all the way at the back—similar to where Cadey likes
to sit at Redwood—is Vi.
I stalk forward, ready to throw the door open and interrupt the class.
“You can’t do that,” my guide says, snatching my wrist.
I glare at her.
She drops her hand. “Wait a sec.”
The kid creeps to the window and waves to get Vi’s attention. She then
points to me and Viola’s eyes bug.
“Miss Hendricks,” Vi raises her hand, “can I use the bathroom?”
“Make it quick.”
“Thank you.” I slip my guide a hundred dollar bill.
She gives me a big smile and hurries off.
Vi shuffles out of the classroom and motions for me to follow her.
I grit my teeth. I want answers now.
But I keep my composure and trail the thirteen-year-old to a quiet
hallway.
She tilts her head up to me, eyes so much like Cadey’s that it makes my
heart ache. “I know why you’re here. But I don’t have any answers.”
The foreboding feeling gets stronger. “What do you know?”
 “I woke up this morning. There was breakfast on the stove and a note
telling me she loved me and to behave when I get to Shanae’s house. I was
confused, so I went to Cadey’s room and it was cleared out.”
Pain strikes my heart like the lash of a thorny whip.
My heart picks up speed.
“Did you call her?”
“Right away. I asked where she was and what was going on. Cadey
didn’t say anything to me at all. She just told me that she’d talked to
Shanae’s mom and I’d be staying at Shanae’s house for a while.” Vi chews
on her bottom lip. “She said not to tell anyone mom was alive and…”
“And?”
Vi chews on her bright pink bottom lip. “Cadey also said not to tell you
anything.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying hard not to punch a hole through the
cheap plastered walls. This school already looks beaten-down enough.
“You disobeyed her,” I note.
“Because I know you love my sister and I know the only time she’s ever
loosened up and depended on someone else was with you. She’s not used to
being the weak one, but Cadey deserves to have that. She deserves a place
where she can be fragile and taken care of.”
My heart clamors to my throat. I step closer to Cadey’s little sister. “If
she calls you again, let me know.”
Vi doesn’t inch back. She knows me well enough to know that I’m
upset, but I wouldn’t hurt her. I wouldn’t hurt any of the people Cadey
loves.
Nodding, she says, “I will.”
I let out a deep breath and muster up a slightly less angry expression.
“Go back to class now. If you have any problems, tell your principal to call
me.”
“Trust me. I won’t have any problems. In fact, I think a lot of kids will
be at my lunch table today.” Vi looks up with a starry-eyed gaze.
I have no idea what she means by that, but she seems happy.
Gesturing for her to return to class, I head in the opposite direction.
 My phone is out and I’m dialing Cadey’s number again when someone
small and blonde steps into my path. I glance up, teeth gritted, muscles taut,
ready to snap at the obstacle in my way.
Through the haze of my desperation and worry about Cadey, I recognize
the girl standing in front of me.
“We need to talk,” she snaps.
I stare at her a beat longer and then it registers.
It’s Breeze, Cadey’s best friend.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

DUTCH

The basketball court behind the school is empty, which surprises me. I
thought more people would be hiding out here. This seems like the sort of
school where sports rule over music.
“A student got stabbed under the net at homecoming,” Breeze says,
noticing where my gaze has strayed. “The cops installed cameras.” She juts
her finger at the corners of the park where red blinking lights point at us.
“So no one chills here anymore.”
“Do you know where Cadence is?” I ask brusquely.
“Even if I did, do you think I would tell you?” Breeze spits. Her eyes
are full of hatred for me.
“Do you at least know if she’s alright?” There’s a hint of desperation in
my tone. I don’t care. I’m going crazy thinking of all the bad things that
might have happened to Cadey. I won’t be able to breathe until I know she’s
okay.
“Oh? Now you’re worried about her?”
“Breeze,” I growl, my patience snapping.
 “She never should have fallen for you.”
I freeze. This is my first time hearing someone confirm Cadence’s
feelings for me. Not even she admitted it to me yet.
The wind picks up and the torn netting sways back and forth.
“I used to love your band,” Breeze says quietly. Her eyebrows form a
pointed V. “I used to hear the anger and the pain in your music, and it spoke
to me because I felt that anger too. I woke up every day, burning with it.”
She licks her lips. “But after hearing what you and your brothers did to
Cadey, I couldn’t unsee it. Every time I listened to your music, every time I
heard that anger, I imagined what that fury would do if it was pointed at an
innocent person.” My fingers curl into fists.
Guilt stabs me in the chest.
“The Kings, the band, Redwood, there was a time I wanted to be close
to that light. I never told her, but I was jealous of Cadey. Going to school
with you four became my dream.”
Her expression hardens. “But sometimes, your dreams need to stay
where they are. If they join you in the real world, you realize that, in the
light, they’re ugly and despicable.”
“Do you know where Cadey is or not?” I grind out. “Why
do you want her, Dutch? So you can control her?” My eyes
flick up to Breeze’s.
“You think because she’s poor, because this—” Breeze gestures to the
chain link fences, the graffiti, the cameras—“is where she comes from that
she should be grateful to you even if you hurt her?”
“I will never hurt her.” I pause and amend, “Not anymore.”
“You can’t make promises like that because you don’t even know what
love is. Who’s to say you won’t get tired of her? Maybe in a few weeks, she
stops being entertaining, and you find another poor, helpless scholarship
student to play around with.”
“Whether you believe me or not, my love for Cadence is real. And it’s
not going to change. I need to know where she is.”
“So you can torment her more? You think ruling and obsessing over
her… you think any of that is love? It’s not. It’s delusion. It’s control. It’s
evil.”
 My lips delve into a scowl and I snap at her, “If you’re not going to tell
me, then I don’t need anything else from you.”
I whirl around, my temper rattling under my skin and begging to pour
out. Breeze’s accusations are like claws, tearing through the fabric of my
mind.
Is she right? Did my love hurt Cadey rather than make her life better?
“I’m glad she got away from you.”
My entire body stops cold. I spin. Stalk forward. And then I’m in front
of Breeze in a blink.
Looming over her, I growl, “What do you mean she got away from me?
You’re saying Cadey wasn’t taken by someone. She chose to leave?”
Eyes shiny with disdain, Breeze taunts, “Why don’t you ask your
father?”

I crash through the doors of dad’s studio, ignoring the way Lucien eyes me
and Ron moves to stop me.
“Mr. Cross, you can’t—”
My fist connects with Ron’s face before he lays a hand on my arm. I
crush skin, bone and flesh and hear something crack.
A wave of satisfaction fills me.
Lucien roars. He swings at me, holding nothing back, eyes ablaze as if
he’d dreamt of this moment all his life. Ron rises from where he’d
staggered against dad’s mixer board. Together, they forcefully bend my
arms behind my back and drive me to my knees.
I smile despite the pain. I knew I’d only get one punch in and I’m glad I
made it count. Ron’s mouth is bleeding harder than mine is.
I’m just sad I didn’t get to give Lucien the same greeting.
Next time, maybe.
“What is all this?” Dad steps into the room, wearing a turtleneck, jeans
and a smug expression. His eyes rove over his bodyguards, both breathing
hard.
“Hi, dad,” I say darkly.
 “Shouldn’t you be in school—”
“Where. Is. She?”
“Who?”
One word. One eyebrow quirk. But I see the truth as if it walked into
the room with us.
Dad took Cadey—whether she went willingly or not.
He’s the one behind this.
“I’m going to end you,” I growl. “Where the hell is she?”
“You have to be more specific, son.” Dad goads me, his tone slathered
in amusement.
My father can’t hide it when he sees someone else’s pain. He feeds on
it. Like a ghost. Like a demon.
I’m wearing my emotions on my sleeves, unable to hide my desperation
and he’s slurping it up like a greedy bastard.
“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” I growl, rising to my feet.
“Where is she?”
Dad coaches his face into a blank expression. Stepping slowly toward
me, he lowers himself to one knee. Voice a reptilian hiss, he whispers, “I
told you not to play this game with me, Dutch. You’re far too young, far too
impetuous to see the bigger picture.”
“Where!” I roar. My body jerks as I fight against my human restraints,
but Lucien and Ron have me locked in their grip.
Dad smacks my bruised cheek. He hits it again, harder. The sound of
skin meeting skin is loud in the room.
“You’re in the big leagues now, Dutch. This isn’t Redwood Prep. This is
the real world and, out here, you’re just a kid with no power.” My eyes
narrow.
“Do you see why you shouldn’t go against your father?” He says in a
stern tone. “Now I have to look like the bad guy.”
“You think I’m powerless?” I raise my head slowly. “I’m going to tear
your kingdom down, brick by brick.”
He arches both eyebrows, still looking amused.
“If you touch her—”
 “Don’t waste my time with threats.” He straightens and walks to the
mini bar, stride sure. Arrogant. Always freaking arrogant. Like nothing in
this world can ruffle him. And even if it did, he wouldn’t let anyone see.
“Believe it or not, she’s the one who came to me, son.”
“Bull—”
“I’m sure she made her own arrangements, even if she left in a rush.”
My mind whirrs. Vi said that Cadence told her to stay at a friend’s
house. She hinted that she was leaving to Breeze.
If she was kidnapped against her will, would she have time to prepare
her circle?
“This is why you never fall in love, Dutch.” Dad pours himself a finger
of whiskey. He hesitates and then he pours one for me too. “It makes you
weak. Makes you vulnerable. And the harder you try to protect that love,”
he brings the cup over to me, “the tighter you try to hold on to it, the more
it wants to escape.”
Dad gestures for his meatheads to let me go. Ron withdraws his arm,
but Lucien flings me forward when he releases me.
My hands smack on the ground, sending a ricochet of pain up my elbow
and into my shoulders.
I look up and glare at him. Lucien scowls, retreating along with Ron to
the edge of the room.
Dad motions for me to take the amber liquid.
I take the cup and turn it over. The whiskey falls out and hits the carpet,
stinking the air with booze.
Dad frowns.
“You’re right about one thing. My whole life is ahead of me. But you
—” I move toward him, “have so much on the line. And your life is already
half over. If you lose everything now, there’s no coming back.” His eyes
widen slightly, a sign of his discomfort.
I drop the empty whiskey glass on the ground. It bounces on the carpet
but doesn’t shatter.
“I’m going to find her and you better pray no one’s harmed a single hair
on her head. If she has so much as a broken nail, I’m coming for you. We’ll
see how much damage I can do in the real world.”
 Dad’s left eye twitches, but it’s the only outward sign of his displeasure.
I stalk to the door.
“She knows,” dad calls after me.
My feet are suddenly glued to the ground. I can’t move a single muscle.
“Didn’t look like she’d cried. She was so cold about it when she asked
me if it was true. I said yes and she just…” Dad stops for dramatic effect.
“She just took in a breath and nodded. Almost like it finally made sense to
her. Why you wanted her around. Why you were pursuing her.” He
chuckles and pours himself another glass. “I’ve never seen anyone so
tragically composed after hearing their boyfriend only saw them as a
private whore.”
I whirl around, my face thunderous but dad’s goons are too fast. My
arms are being held back and I’m once again hitting the floor.
“You’re never getting what you want, Dutch. Not now. Not ever.” Dad
smiles at me. “I suggest you forget about that girl. She’s long gone. And I
don’t just mean physically. Right here.” He taps his chest. “You’re so far
away from her.”
“What did you do?” I wrench out.
“I opened her eyes. I made her see that there’s a world beyond you.
She’s expanding, transforming into something you wouldn’t even imagine.”
Dad sips calmly. “I mean it when I say this is good for her.
And if you truly love her, Dutch, you’ll set her free.” My
insides twist into a painful knot.
I don’t know how she found out the truth, but it doesn’t make sense.
Cadence knew her mom was working with my dad. She knew dad isn’t to
be trusted… why did she go to him instead of me? Why did she choose to
run instead of talking to me?
Footsteps thud through the hallway outside.
Dad’s eyes jump to the door and his grin gets bigger. I see that
expression and realize too late why he was talking so much when he’d
usually keep his cards close to the chest.
It’s a trap.
My eyes widen when I see police officers filling the room. Lucien and
Ron step aside while a cop takes over their position.
 The handcuffs are cold when they slap around my wrist. I’m still reeling
from dad’s words and it takes me a moment to catch up with what’s
happening.
The second I do, I start to fight.
“What the hell are you doing? Uncuff me!” No
one listens to me.
“I need to find my fiancée. I need to—” The rest of my words become a
breathless gasp as they push me into the ground.
“Careful. Careful. He’s still my son,” dad says, grinning like a snake.
My eyes burn with anger, but I’m helpless and he knows it.
“Dutch Cross, you are under arrest for the illegal possession of drugs.
You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to a lawyer…”
I tune out the police, my eyes on dad. “Doing this won’t keep me away
from her.”
“Oh, Dutch.” Dad tilts his head and looks at me like an adult would
look at a child’s artwork. “Don’t you get it? The girl you thought you knew,
the one you fell in love with, you’re never going to find her again.”
 CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CADENCE

I step out of the changing screen and notice there’s a tray waiting on the
dresser. Right next to the makeup brush.
My stomach clenches painfully, which I don’t think was the desired
effect. The food is different this time. Sushi. Yesterday, it was salad.
Tomorrow, it’ll probably be something else.
“He told me that you should eat,” the makeup artist says. She’s a timid,
quiet woman who doesn’t talk much. I’ve been wondering if she was
instructed not to speak to me.
Doesn’t matter.
Her quiet suits me just fine.
“I’m not hungry.” I push the plate away.
She studies me as if gauging whether it would be more prudent to piss
me off by insisting or to just let it pass.
My shoulders tighten.
Her fingers reach for the makeup brush as the moment passes.
I tilt my face up to the light, body numb. Mind empty. She pastes liquid
on my face. Powders. Lipstick. Sharp things close to my eyes that could
blind me.
I almost wish they would.
I don’t want to look at myself.
But she turns my chair around.
My reaction is the same as it has been since I got here—nothing.
Makeup on or off, I don’t recognize myself anymore.
 A familiar voice comes from the hallway. The door opens and lets in the
screams of fans. Some of them are here to see me. Most of them are here to
see Pain & Punishment, a new band from Jarod Cross’s studio label.
It doesn’t matter.
None of it matters.
“Cadence.”
I glance up at the mirror. A handsome face stares back at me. Brown
hair. Brown eyes. Strong jaw.
“Hunter,” I call his name in the same patronizing tone.
“You need to eat.”
“I’ll eat when I’m hungry.”
“I haven’t seen you touch food since we got here.”
“I ate granola bars in my hotel room.”
“Granola bars?”
I shrug. The least Jarod Cross can do is pay an exorbitant amount for
my forage through the mini bar.
“I’m done,” the makeup artist says. She peers up at Hunter and bats her
eyes.
He doesn’t give her a single look.
I spot her sigh of disappointment and watch as she hurries out of the
room. I wonder what she imagines her life would be if Hunter actually
reciprocated her signals. What does she really want from him?
Acknowledgement that he sees her? That she’s pretty? Does she want him
to take her up to his hotel? Does it stop there? Does she want more?
She’s been flirting with him every day. Can’t she see he doesn’t want
any of those things with her?
There’s a part of me that hates her. Probably because she reminds me of
myself.
I wonder why we can’t let go of the people, the things that don’t want
us back. Or worse, that are bad for us. Is it our fault? Should we hold the
blame?
I dig my nails into my palm until it hurts and then I press in deeper.
Don’t I deserve the pain for making bad choices?
“Cadence.”
 I jolt and look at Hunter.
He’s frowning, lips set in a thin line. “You keep spacing out on me.”
“You talk too much,” I mumble.
His eyebrows tighten. He looks at me like he doesn’t know who I am.
I reach for the veil, set it over my freshly-done makeup and hand him
the ties.
He secures it at the back of my head. “If I knew you’d be so much
trouble, I wouldn’t have agreed to this personal security gig.” “Go home
then,” I say.
I didn’t ask for anyone to follow me into my own version of hell. In
fact, I’d prefer to be alone. Hunter’s constant worried looks only make me
feel worse.
“Done,” Hunter says.
I step out of the chair. Hunter’s eyes slide over me. If I wasn’t so dead
inside, I’d probably be flattered by the glint of admiration.
Jarod Cross’s costume designer made me a black dress with elegant
sequins and a long veil that trails from the top of my head and fans out
behind my piano stool when I sit.
The back of the dress is slightly sexier with a scooped out design that
shows off a ton of skin beneath the veil. There’s a matching mask to hide
the lower portion of my face.
When Jarod asked me what I wanted to wear, I told him it didn’t matter.
As long as when I step out into the audience, the only thing I’m exposing to
the world is my eyes.
I notice Hunter is still staring and I frown. “Isn’t it time for me to get on
stage?”
“Oh. Right.” He clears his throat and opens the door for me.
I walk with him down the hallway, carrying the tail end of my veil over
one arm.
Hunter’s stride falls in line with mine. “You get a day off on your
birthday tomorrow. What do you want to do?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. We’re closer to the stage now. The sound of Pain
and Punishment’s edgy music fills the air. The bass slips under my skin and
makes my body vibrate.
 Hunter gives me a scolding look. “Eighteen is a big number.” “Miss
Soprano.” The crew manager offers his hand to me.
I slip my fingers into his grip and meet Hunter’s eyes. “It’s just another
day.”
“Let’s do something special. Tonight. We’ll celebrate your birthday the
right way.” Hunter offers an encouraging smile.
My lips remain flat. My heart remains cold.
I climb on top of the lift.
As the platform rises, I see the packed room. Faceless blobs. Screams
loud enough to shatter my eardrums. Lights too big and too bright.
I adjust my ear piece, glad that I have an in-ear monitor so I can hear
myself when it’s time to play the piano.
The leader of Pain and Punishment, some guy whose name I forgot the
moment he shared it, gestures to me. The spotlights shift, bearing down on
my head. It’s hot, like the sun and yet I’m still shivering.
The screams get louder. Everyone seems keyed up, wound so tight I
could send them to the moon on a rocket.
I’m featured in the band’s last set.
The grand finale.
The emotional punch.
That’s what the fan who met me backstage last night called me.
And maybe that’s what I am—the world’s emotional punching bag.
I take a seat behind my piano, fingers to the keys. Mask on.
Not Cadence Cooper.
To them, I’m Soprano Jones.
I place my fingers to the keys. A low, haunting melody crawls out of the
piano. Notes too dark, too dangerous to exist in the light.
I bend my face over the keys and wild, violent emotions seep through
the cracks in my heart.
It’s unfortunate.
Every day, I get up and I put my feelings in their cages. But they always
break out and escape into the night when I play. Music does that. It unlocks
the door to the pain, the pleasure, the fear, the joy.
Everything.
 I’m masked, yet I can’t hide here.
The crowd is silent. They’re always silent. Listening. Waiting. Holding
their breath until I remind them to breathe.
The leader of the band strums his guitar.
Acoustic. Dutch preferred electric… But
I’m not thinking about him.
I hammer my fingers against the keyboard. Angry stabs. Louder.
Louder.
The music builds around me, feeding on my angst. Greedy for more of
the pain that crawls out of my melody.
The audience starts singing and screaming. A mass of bodies sway from
somewhere beyond me.
I don’t see it. I don’t hear it.
My fingers move lower. Lower. Until I’ve run out of octaves and there
aren’t enough keys to express the depth of my anger.
I climb back to the higher octave and hold the chord just as the song
ends.
I’m breathing hard, wrung out over my piano when the last note fades.
The crowd roars and chants my name.
‘Soprano! Soprano! Soprano!’
The band members smirk at each other. They think it’s a gimmick when
I flop over my piano like this. The hidden girl, covered from head to toe in
a veil and mask. A marketing shtick. A one-way ticket to going viral.
They don’t mind that I don’t practice with them. Or talk to them. Or
care about them. For a no-name band on Jarod Cross’s roster, I’m what sets
them apart.
The leader turns with his guitar and smiles at me. Suddenly, his image
putters out and I see Dutch at the mike, guitar over his shoulder. Blonde
hair messy. Amber eyes molten gold under the spotlight.
He’s smiling cockily at me like he did the night he dragged me on stage
to play the triangle. The night I made the first real step into overcoming my
stage fright.
‘Don’t look at them, Brahms. Look at me.’
 My skin suddenly feels too tight. My fingers curve on the edge of the
piano desk, but I can’t shake the striking-hot agony inside me.
And I really can’t breathe.
I shoot up from the piano.
My heart is squeezing so intently that it hurts.
Tears sting my eyes and then I’m moving.
The leader of the band glares at me.
The drummer mouths, “Where are you going? We have another song!”
I stomp off the stage.
Hunter is right there. He throws a coat over me. He slings a hand over
my arm. If he sees the tears running down my face, he doesn’t mention it.
I’m swept away to my dressing room where I change into a regular T-
shirt and jeans. Hunter leads me out of the private show and into a black
car.
The Christmas-decorated buildings become a blur of lights, fog and
concrete outside my window. Finally relaxing a bit, I take out my phone
and thumb through my messages.
Vi: I went by our apartment today. There’s still no sign of mom. Should
we call the police?
I almost snort. Call the police and tell them what? That our mom who
died came back to life and is missing?
I send Vi a reply.
Don’t worry. She’s probably fine.
The other message is from Breeze.
Breeze: Sending this early since you’re five hours ahead of us. Happy
birthday to the best bestie in the world.
The message has a kissy face emoji and a video collage of me and
Breeze together.
I smile for the first time since I stormed into Jarod Cross’s office and
heard his proposal to go on tour.
The last message is from Serena.
I sit up straight when I see it.
 She constantly asks me why I’m taking a break from Redwood, and I’m
not sure what to tell her.
Serena: Redwood Prep is not the same without you, Cadence. Ps.
Check out Jinx’s latest post. Do you know anything about this?
I scroll through the post and my stomach clenches in anger.
The car stops in front of the hotel.
Hunter hustles to get my door and open it for me. His eyes scan my
face. “I’ll order something for you to eat. Go to bed early.”
“No.” I grip the phone tighter, Jinx’s words tattooed behind my eyelids.
“I want to do what you suggested.”
“What?”
“I want to celebrate my birthday the right way.”

Jinx: Prince Charming Moving On?

Cinderella has been missing from Redwood Prep for three days now
and sources say she might never come back. Prince Charming has been
MIA lately too. But what first appeared to be a joint romantic getaway is
now a royal scandal.
Prince Charming has been busy finding himself a new lady love.
Pictures of him getting up close and personal with a mysterious blonde
bombshell have been circulating everywhere.
You snooze, you lose Cinderella.
It seems like the queen’s throne is about to be claimed by someone
new.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even
closer.
- Jinx
 CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

DUTCH

Chains rattle close to the door of my holding cell. An officer appears, face
flickering in the shadowy night.
I jump to my feet, throwing myself against the iron bars like a man
possessed.
“My name is Dutch Cross and I am innocent,” I growl.
“Aren’t you tired, kid?” The officer chuckles. “You’re like a broken
record.”
Laughter booms from the holding cells around me.
I’m glad they can laugh.
I’m freaking thrilled this is amusing.
The officer’s eyes drop to the food tray at my feet. It’s empty. I forced
myself to eat the gunk, knowing that I needed my strength— either to dig
my way out or punch my way out of this hell.
“Jarod Cross’s kid sure has spunk, doesn’t he?” The officer taunts.
“Look at him glaring me down.”
“I’ll do worse than glare, you piece of—”
“Finish that and you’re threatening an officer, punk.” My
nostrils flare, but I slap my mouth shut.
Smiles get wider. Eyes start glinting.
I want to punch him.
I want to burn them all.
But I can’t jeopardize an opportunity to get out.
The door of my holding cell creaks as it swings wide.
 The officer moves closer. Head bent toward mine, he says, “You stay
out of trouble from now on, alright?” His eyes sweep over me. “Or the next
time, it won’t be you alone in here.”
My eyes narrow. Is he threatening my brothers right now? Who the hell
does he think he is?
I mark his face in my mind.
The handcuffs fall away at that moment, distracting me. I woodenly rub
my wrists, staring at the marks left on my skin.
“You’re free to go,” the officer says loudly, stepping back. “Get outta
here, kid. Hope you learned your lesson.”
If I wasn’t in such a rush, I really would swing at him. Let him send me
right back to this holding cell for assaulting an officer. Let him charge me if
he wants.
But I have more important things to do. Like
find Cadence.
I haven’t seen her in seventy-two hours.
Three days. Twenty-five minutes. Seven seconds.
An eternity.
The longer I’ve been held up in jail, the more urgent I feel. It’s like
there’s something inside me, prodding me forward, telling me to hurry or
I’ll be too late. Too late for what? Hell if I know.
I step out of prison and I’m stunned to see my brothers waiting outside.
Zane’s face twists with relief and he rushes toward me. Even Finn looks
unusually nervous.
“Dutch.” Zane grabs my shoulder and looks me over. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Did they hurt you or… did anyone…”
“No, I was in a holding cell. Alone.” I drill a hard stare into Finn’s face.
“What took you so long?”
“We had no idea you were in jail.”
I grunt and tap on my blank phone screen. The cops gave me my phone
back and the device is taking forever to turn on. “Where the hell did you
think I was for the past three days?” “With Cadence,” Finn says.
A ripple of anxiety washes over me.
 “After you went to see dad, we got a text from your phone saying you’d
found Cadence’s location and you’d gone after her.” Finn scrolls to show
me the text in question.
It’s my number.
Written exactly how I would have spoken to them.
“We thought you’d come back to Redwood with her. We didn’t ask
questions.” Zane glares into the back of a tree. He looks ready to pummel
something, anything. “We should have freaking asked questions.”
“When did you figure it out?”
“When Jinx wrote a post about you being with a blonde.” Finn’s voice
is dry. Matter-of-fact.
“A blonde?” I grind out. For the past three days, I’ve been in jail.
When would I have time to meet…
Breeze.
Dammit.
Jinx must have gotten pictures of me talking to Cadence’s best friend.
“Neither of us believed it.” My eyes widen slightly.
“I’ve seen you with other girls,” Zane fills in. “The way you are with
Brahms is different. You were—are—serious about her. After everything
you’ve done for that chick, you wouldn’t jump ship. I had to hear you
confirm it with your own mouth.”
My lungs burn. Well played, dad.
Our psychopathic father found a way to keep me away from Cadence,
while convincing my brothers I was happily spending time with my fiancée.
“Did you hire a lawyer to get me out of jail?” I ask, stomping to the car.
“The cops couldn’t charge you with anything. You were being released
today anyway.” Finn stops me and prods me back. He gets into the driver’s
seat instead. “It was just a coincidence that Jinx told us your location
around the same time.”
I scowl as I climb into the passenger seat. “Jinx? Why would she know
I was in jail? Dad told the cops to keep it private. They didn’t even take me
in through the front because they were afraid I’d get my picture taken.”
Finn shrugs. Despite his outward calm, his fingers are squeezing the life
out of the steering wheel. “We don’t know how Jinx knows anything.”
 “Here.” Zane shoves a burger at me from the backseat. “I’ve heard that
prison food tastes like crap.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Eat it.”
“Give me your phone instead. My battery’s shot.”
“I’ll give you when you take a bite,” Zane insists.
I grit my teeth, swallowing back a wave of anger. My brothers are being
ridiculous. I’m fine. I don’t need coddling. In fact, I’m burning with energy.
Zane gives me a hard look. It’s enough to convince me I shouldn’t push
my luck.
My fingers close around the burger. It smells like heaven. Especially
after eating that jail gunk for three days.
I take a bite for my brother’s satisfaction.
He hands over his cell.
“I’m calling Vi.” The phone is heavy in my palm. My fingers tremble.
“It’s been three days. By now, she must know where her sister is.” “Before
you do that…” Finn murmurs.
“What?” I stare at the side of his face.
“Show him.”
Zane takes the phone away from me and my gut reaction is to lunge for
it.
“This video appeared on my feed two days ago,” Finn explains.
Zane presses play and the video begins.
On screen is a slim woman draped from head-to-toe in a sparkly veil
and face mask. Even covered up, she looks sexy and alluring. The fabric of
her veil is slightly sheer and the dress underneath shows off her body.
I suck in a sharp breath. Something about the way she moves over to
her piano is familiar.
In the video, the woman sits.
She takes a breath before she presses on the keys.
At the first note, I know.
“It’s her,” I whisper. The music is full of emotions, ragged, raw, and
real. Like a girl stripping down bare and opening herself up for the world.
 I’d recognize that music anywhere. Cadey doesn’t know how to play
any other way than honest.
“She’s a featured guest in the band Pain and Punishment,” Zane says.
“She’s crazy good.”
“Pain and Punishment?”
“Dad’s latest new project.” Zane scoffs. “It’s like a rip-off of us.”
“Online, I’ve seen them tagging her as ‘Soprano Jones’.”
“Soprano.” My eyes jolt to the phone. “Cadence used that name the first
time she played at Redwood.”
“We didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Finn explains.
“And yet,” I peer at the road sign, “you’re taking me to the airport.”
“The band’s on a European tour. Now that we know Soprano Jones is
Cadence, it’s safe to assume she’s over there now with them, ” Finn says.
“Just for the record, I don’t think you should do this.” Zane’s chest
expands with a breath. “Cadence got sent away. You went to jail. It’s clear
Dad’s getting desperate.” He runs a hand through his hair. “If he really went
to all this trouble just to keep the inheritance, there’s no telling what he’ll
do next. And what if Cadence really gets pregnant?” My stomach twists
into knots.
“I keep thinking it might be safer for you, and for her, if you two stay
apart.”
“That’s not happening,” I growl at Finn.
Zane nods as if he’d expected that response. “What are you going to do
when you see her? If she’s keeping up with Jinx’s app, she probably thinks
you’ve moved on to someone else.” “She knows that’s bull.” “Does she?”
Finn challenges.
“I don’t care what she believes. I’m going to remind her of the truth,” I
spit, my fingers tight on the phone. “She belongs to me. And she always
will.”
 CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CADENCE

Rowdy laughter breaks out from the crowd behind us. The pub’s been
getting louder and more crowded as the night wore on.
“Maybe you should slow down,” Hunter says, moving my mug away.
I hiss at him and grab the beer from his fingers. The contents slosh over
the rim, splattering against my hand and the darkly varnished table.
Hunter gives me the stink eye, but I don’t care.
We’re sequestered at the back of the pub. Above me, triangle-shaped
Union Jack banners hang from the ceiling and there’s not a single
Christmas tree in sight.
I told Hunter to take me away from the hotel’s bar because they were
playing Christmas carols and it was making my head hurt. In here, the
songs are Europe’s version of country music. I can work with that.
“Hold still,” Hunter grumbles. He swipes a bunch of napkins from the
dispenser and dabs my fingers.
I stare at the napkin, remembering the day at the amusement park when
Dutch decided he didn’t need a napkin to clean me up.
‘You’re melting, Cadey.’
I refuse to think about his tongue sliding over my skin, or his wicked
smile as I gasped.
But now it’s all I can think about.
Dutch smiling.
Dutch frowning.
Dutch growling into my ear, ‘You’re mine, Cadey’.
Pain strikes me hard.
 I react on instinct and send the empty mug flying.
Hunter barely manages to catch it before it hits the ground.
“What the hell?”
“Something’s wrong with this beer.” I bristle. Lifting another one of the
mugs in front of me, I stare at the frothy liquid from underneath. “I
shouldn’t be able to feel. Why do I still feel?”
“Cadence, it’s your first time and you’re overdoing it. You need to stop
now.”
I plant my hands on the table and shove myself up. The world tilts and I
windmill my arms to keep it from spinning so much.
“Be careful.” Hunter hauls on me.
“Get me something stronger,” I beg him. “From there to there.”
Pointing to the liquor on the top shelf, I giggle. “That should do it.” “It
won’t.”
“How do you know?” I counter.
“Even if you get black-out drunk tonight, you’re going to wake up
tomorrow feeling the same gaping hole in your chest.” His eyes are on the
table. His tone is contemplative. As if he’s gone through it before. “Nothing
except time can heal a wound like that.”
“Wound?” I laugh raucously. The tables close to us peer at me like I’m
crazy.
Maybe I am. Maybe this insanity was handed down to me from my
mother. A dark curse that spans generations.
“I don’t have a wound. I’m great. Everything is…” I sway and almost
bash my head on the low-hanging lights. “Ow.”
Hunter shakes his head. “I’m taking you back to the hotel.”
“No.” I push him off. “I want another drink.”
He stares down at me like he’d want nothing more than to throw me
into the nearest river.
I point a finger at his reddening face and giggle. “You’re angry.” His
jaw works.
“Don’t be angry, Hunter.” I grab his hand and wrap his fingers around
the mug. “Drink with me. See?” I smash our mugs together. “Cheers!”
 The beer runs down the side of my face and stains my T-shirt as I gulp it
down. The brew tastes horrible. Why do people overindulge at parties when
beer isn’t even that sweet?
Hunter goes still. I glance aside and notice him staring hard at my face.
“What?”
“I’d rather you talk about him,” Hunter says quietly. “I’d rather you tell
me that you loved him and you miss him. This hurts worse. Watching you
in pain, in agony—you’re killing me, Cadence.”
His softly spoken words slash my heart in two. I hate seeing the pity in
his eyes.
Forcing a laugh, I reach for his drink. “I’ll finish this if you won’t.”
Hunter plants a big hand on top of the beer to keep me from lifting it.
My eyes shoot to his. He’s gazing at me as if I’m a broken doll,
shattered on the floor.
Anger spurts from the depths of my soul and causes me to shake.
I curl my fingers into fists. “You’re wrong. I don’t love him. I never
loved him. He was… he meant nothing to me.” Hunter presses his lips into
a thin line.
“I never believed him when he said he’d be there for me. I never trusted
him when he kept showing up for me and saving me. I never wanted to
belong to him.”
The frigid armor around my heart is thawing, releasing a torrent of
emotions that I don’t want to deal with.
But it’s like spilled beer.
Once it’s out, you can’t scoop it back in.
“I didn’t like him touching me…”
When he touched me, my numbness cracked and broke apart. I wanted
him to touch me more.
“… I didn’t like him treating me like I was his property…”
He made me feel vulnerable and out of control.
“… I didn’t like that he was always around.”
But now that he’s not around, all I can think about is how I can see him
again.
 “Does that sound like love to you?” I challenge Hunter. “Does that
sound like I miss him?”
Hunter’s face goes dark all at once, like he’s been drained of every
emotion. Like he’s so incredibly tired.
I see it and I feel particularly cruel. “Why did you come on this trip
with me, Hunter?”
His eyes slant over my face.
“I know Jarod Cross approached you. I know it was a good-paying job.”
I pause for a minute as the room spins again. “But why did you say yes?
You should have just left me alone. It would have been better for the both
of us.”
An alarm pings.
It’s Hunter’s phone.
He glances down at it and then looks up at me. “Happy birthday,
Cadey.”
“I turned eighteen five hours ago.”
“In the UK, but not in the US.” He nods. “Now you’re eighteen in both
countries.”
“I’m eighteen.” I scoot closer to him. Leaning toward Hunter, I say,
“What do you want to do?” His
hand rises to my face.
I close my eyes and tilt my head up. Since the beer didn’t do its job
properly, maybe Hunter can.
He moves in close. So close I can feel his beer-scented breath on my
cheek. He smells different than… no. I’m focused.
This is Hunter.
Hunter.
Hunter.
“What I want?” he breathes.
I nod and purse my lips.
He stops an inch away from my mouth and whispers hotly, “I’ll tell you
in your hotel room.”
 CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

DUTCH

The airport is colder than a Siberian winter. Both my brothers are dozing in
the uncomfortable black chairs. Outside, the sky is dark.
My watch says it’s two a.m.
Yesterday, we rushed into the airport, ready to buy a ticket, but we
missed the last flight and couldn’t bribe, fight or pay our way onto another
one.
After that, we called mom. She couldn’t get clearance for her private jet
to pick me up this late, but she promised to pull some strings. I’ve been
waiting hours for her call.
My phone lights up.
Finally.
“Mom?” I scramble to my feet. “Did you find a way to get me over
there?”
“Before I answer that question, I want to ask you something.”
“What?” I grouse, hoping she’ll hurry up. I don’t have time for
questions. I need to see Cadey.
“If you found out that Cadence was pregnant—”
I choke on a breath. “Pregnant?”
“… for another man….”
My fingers nearly crack the phone in two.
“… would you still want to be with her?”
“That would never happen.”
“Answer the question, Dutch.”
 “It’s a ridiculous question. Cadence isn’t like that.” She’s never been
with anyone except me. Never been with anyone before me either. It was
obvious. Every time I touched her, she reacted like it was her first time.
“Mom, did you get the plane or not?” My
phone beeps.
Confused, I pull it back and glance at the screen.
“Is that the tickets?” I ask excitedly.
“Open the message, Dutch.” Mom’s voice is strangely subdued.
I tap on the screen and pictures of Cadey and Hunter fill my vision.
He’s got his face close to hers. From this angle, it looks like they’re kissing.
Dark, violent emotions swirl through my chest.
“Do you see?”
“What the hell is this?”
“There’s more.”
My vision turning red, I swipe through the pictures.
An older guy’s got his arm around Cadey and she’s leaning into him.
He’s leading her into a hotel. He’s carrying her into a hotel room.
I grit my teeth and try to keep a clear head. “Mom, you can’t believe
anything dad sends you. This is all part of his elaborate plan to break us
up.”
“Dutch…”
“I won’t fall for it,” I say agitatedly.
“Dutch…”
“If you knew what dad did to keep me and Cadey apart, you’d—”
“It wasn’t your dad, Dutch.”
I feel the world tilt. “What do you mean it wasn’t dad?” Mom
remains quiet.
“What do you mean, mom?” Spit flies from my mouth. I’m trembling
hard.
“My son insists on marrying a girl I’ve never met. Did you think I
wouldn’t investigate this young lady?”
Finn’s eyelashes flutter and he stares sleepily at me. “What’s going on?”
I give him a panicked look.
He instantly wakes up and rouses Zane too.
 “Your grandmother’s inheritance is more than you can imagine, Dutch.
Even if you split it with your brothers, even if you give half of it away, it’ll
still be enough for you and your children’s children. If you were to marry
this girl, she’d receive a windfall—whether or not you
two work out. I had to make sure you weren’t being conned.” My
heart feels like it was flung into a grinder.
“My sources say she and this young man have history—”
“No.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself. “There’s got
to be another explanation.”
“Since the tour began, Hunter and Cadence have been very close. They
spend all their time together. Tonight, they were kissing, drinking, and
acting like a couple. And then he took her to a hotel room. You can imagine
the rest.” My eyes squeeze shut.
My shoulders are taut. Zane
walks up to me. “Dutch?” I
shake my head.
Something dark and sinister drops into my stomach.
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she really does love you and this was one
mistake, but that mistake has big repercussions. If you insist on marrying
this girl, Dutch, and she eventually finds out she’s pregnant, you won’t
know who the baby’s father is until it’s born. And by then, it’ll be too late to
start from scratch. You won’t qualify for the inheritance and
you’ll be stuck raising another man’s child.”
I’m barely breathing.
“Is that the life you want? Is that the love you want? Think about it.”
She pauses. “The plane will be on standby in twenty minutes. You
can be in London before noon. I love you, son. Choose wisely.” The
line clicks.
She hung up.
“What was that about?” Zane asks.
Finn’s gaze is steady on my face. “Nothing good.” “Cadence
is in London,” I croak.
“We knew that,” Zane says cockily.
“With Hunter.”
 Both my brothers fall silent. They were with me that day in the diner
when Cadey acted like Hunter was her boyfriend.
I show them the pictures of Cadence kissing him.
Finn frowns.
Zane pales.
“What are you going to do?” Zane asks me.
I fall into the chair, unable to find the strength to stay upright. Cadey’s
betrayal cuts deep and I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can
survive the angst. If I get her back and she’s pregnant, will I have to hold
my breath until I find out whether the baby’s mine? And what if it isn’t?
“Dammit.” Zane plops into the seat beside me. “No one would expect
you to raise another man’s kid, Dutch. It might hurt like hell now, but
you can cut your losses. No one would blame you.” I
drop my head in my hands and scrub my cheeks.
“Dammit!” Zane’s voice is louder now.
I squeeze my eyes shut. My knee is bouncing like I’m already on the
plane experiencing turbulence.
“Why the hell aren’t you saying anything?” Zane flings the words at
Finn.
“Nothing I say matters.”
“Of course it matters.”
“No, the only thing that matters is what Dutch wants.” I
look up at my quiet brother.
He meets my stare head-on. “This is the moment you decide if you
meant all that crap you said about her.”
“It’s not that simple, Finn.”
Finn ignores Zane’s outburst. “Did you really love her? Or did you just
want to own her?”
“Of course he loved her. But this is… man, this is insane.” Zane paces
up and down.
“Now that she’s of no use to you, now that it can cost you something,
now that you really have to sacrifice what you want, what will it be? Does
she still belong to you? Or did she only belong to you when she did what
you wanted?”
 Finn’s words lodge in my brain. I fight them as hard as I can, my
instincts going wild.
I’ve always lived in full self-protection mode.
My world.
My rules.
I’ve never had to give up that power for anyone. Never felt the need to.
I close my eyes and try to picture a world without Cadey in it. All I feel
is immeasurable pain, darkness, lashing winds and so much emptiness.
I can give up here. I can move on. I can find some other girl to screw
and bear me a child, but I don’t want to.
Even if it means I have to die, it’s Cadey or nothing.
“I love her,” I say, my eyes springing wide open. “I love her.”
Finn bobs his head, looking pleased. “Then what the hell are you
waiting for? Go get on that plane.”

CADENCE
The first thing I see when I pry my eyelids apart are beautiful amber
eyes. Gold and honey. A worried gaze.
My heart picks up speed.
Dutch?
I reach out and touch his face. It’s warm.
Tears sting my eyes and I cup his cheek. What is this feeling in my
chest? This… swelling emotion. Why does it feel like home?
“Cadence,” a voice that is not Dutch’s rings in my ears, “drink this.”
I blink and gasp when Hunter’s face comes into focus. He’s stripped out
of his shirt and is just wearing a wifebeater. He holds out a bowl of soup to
me.
Panicked, I scramble up and look down at myself. When I see that I’m
wearing a robe and nothing else, I grab the blanket and pull it up to my
chest.
“What happened last night?” I croak.
 “You drank too much, so I took you back to the hotel room and then…”
Hunter glances at the floor where my panties and bra are lying haphazardly.
My heart lurches to my throat. I don’t remember much about last night
except for drinking too much and goading Hunter into kissing me at the
pub.
I try to sit up straighter, but my head hurts like someone’s slamming it
with a hammer.
“Don’t try to move too fast,” Hunter says.
I flinch when he puts his hand on my arm to help me. He notices and
withdraws.
Awkwardness falls heavy between us.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I whisper.
Hunter nods.
I roll out of bed and scramble to the bathroom. Once I’m in there, I lock
the door and try to make sense of what happened. It’s hard to think straight
with my pounding headache, but I collect all the evidence.
The rumpled bed.
My naked body.
Hunter’s naked body.
It’s obvious we slept together—even if I don’t remember it.
Moaning softly, I shake my head. “Why, Cadence?”
I wouldn’t have slept with Hunter just because I was drunk but…
I would have taken my clothes off eagerly if I pretended that Hunter
was Dutch.
My head sinks low and I squeeze my robe tightly.
Hunter knocks on the door. “Can you open up for me?”
“W-why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
Nervously, I pull the door. Hunter’s in the frame, looking tall,
purposeful and much older than me. Normally, I don’t notice the age gap,
but there’s something about his clenching jaw and the way he watches me
that makes me feel small and young.
 “H-Hunter, I don’t exactly remember last night.” I scrub my scalp with
my fingernails. “But I don’t… I mean, whatever happened between us, I’m
not interested—”
“The only thing you did to me yesterday was vomit all over my shirt.”
My eyes widen.
“Then you got into bed and started stripping.” His throat bobs. “So I
left.”
“You… you mean we didn’t—”
“No, Cadey.”
“Thank God.” I wilt against the sink.
Hunter smirks. “I’m slightly offended.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… not in a place to get into another,”
I squint my eyes, “situation right now.”
Hunter observes me so long and hard that I start to squirm.
“After last night, I’ve decided to tell you what I think, even if it hurts.”
Hunter steps into the bathroom with me. His broad shoulders take up so
much of the space. “Because I’d rather be in pain than see you suffer
another day.”
My body locks in place. I stare into his eyes.
“You love him, Cadence.”
“No.” I shake my head, fighting it hard.
“You can’t hide it. Leaving him devastated you and the more you
pretend you’re fine, the less believable it is.”
“I am fine.”
“You’re not eating. You’re not sleeping. And your music—”
“What about my music?” I snap.
“Every note sounds like you’re calling his name. If you need someone
that much, then you shouldn’t be running away.” He lifts his chin. “You
should fight for what you love.”
“It’s not that simple,” I croak.
“Since when has love ever been simple?” Hunter’s lips curve into a sad,
pained smile. “You either choose it or you don’t. There’s no in between.”
I breathe in deeply and realize that he’s right. The more I’ve tried to run
from my feelings, the greater they became.
 I fell for Dutch Cross.
The ruthless, dark and twisted ruler of Redwood Prep.
Giving my heart to him scares me because it means losing myself to a
power that’s bigger than I am. What if I lose my ability to see clearly?
My ability to choose? My ability to fight?
Something clicks into place, like curtains being lifted and revealing the
truth.
I can still fight, but it’ll be a fight for love.
I can still see, but those visions will include two people instead of one.
And I still have choice.
I can choose to love him despite my fears.
“Thank you, Hunter,” I say, squeezing his hand. Determinedly, I stalk
out of the bathroom. “I need you to do me a favor.”
He remains in the doorway, his smile more broken than I’ve ever seen.
“Anything.”
“Take me to the airport.”
 CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

DUTCH

I don’t have any bags with me, so as soon as I’m off the plane and through
with customs, I escape into the London fog.
Rain drips steadily over me.
I raise my arms above my head and try to flag down a taxi. My
movements are urgent, but none of the damn cars will stop for me.
Ridiculous.
I thought it would be easy to catch a cab outside of an airport.
Apparently, not when it’s raining.
Finally, a taxi stops.
I wrench the door open and grunt out the name of the hotel nearest to
the concert venue. Knowing dad’s habits, I’m certain he wouldn’t have
housed his rock band—and Cadence—too far from the show.
Just as the taxi’s pulling out, I hear a car beeping behind us.
“You forget so’mim, mate?” “What? No. Just drive,” I growl.
The car behind us blows its horn instantly, but I ignore it in favor of
checking my DMs. I sent Cadey hundreds of messages, and I’m hoping she
responds.
There’s nothing from her.
My taxi pulls into traffic.
Suddenly, a sleek black car speeds up, brushing against us and almost
crashing into the taxi’s fender.
“Bloody hell.” The driver throws his door open and goes right up to the
driver’s side of the black car. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Hey!” I yell at him. “I’ll pay for the damages. Let’s just—”
 Knuckles ram against my window.
I whip my head back and see Hunter’s face behind the tinted glass.
My eyes cut through him like a knife. In a second, I ram my door open.
He jumps back, narrowly missing a serious blow.
“Dutch, what are you doing here?” Hunter demands.
“Why the hell are you asking me that?” My fingers dig into his collar
and I shove him up against the taxi. “Where’s Cadey?”
“Ey, ey, young man.” My taxi driver motions to Hunter. “This man is
saying you told him to cut me off. What the bloody hell?”
I shake Hunter, slamming him harder against the car. “Where is she?”
His expression grim, Hunter pauses and looks up at me. “I really wish it
wasn’t a rich prick like you.” “Where?” I roar in his face.
“Ey, now. Calm down.” The driver puts a hand on my shoulder.
I wrench him off.
Hunter eyes me like my face makes him want to vomit. And then he
growls, “She booked a flight back to the States… so she could see you.”
“What?” My fingers go lax. I drop his collar, taking a second to process
the news. “How long ago?”
Hunter rubs his neck. He just stares at me, not answering.
“Dammit!” I spin around and race back into the airport. A sea of people
press around me, all swirling in a pulse of movement, exhaustion, and
excitement.
I didn’t think to get her flight information from Hunter before I barged
in here. She could be anywhere.
It doesn’t matter.
I’d search the end of the world to find her because I can’t live without
her. I’ve waited my whole life for Cadence Cooper.
I let her slip through my fingers once. But
it’s never going to happen again.

CADENCE
 “Sorry.” I smile sheepishly at the man who just tapped my shoulder and
told me the line moved.
I roll my suitcase forward, moving ever so closer to the jet entrance.
Through the rain-soaked window, I see giant jets coasting onto the
runway. Red lights flash before my eyes.
When it first started raining, I was half-afraid my flight would be
canceled. This was the earliest ticket I could book.
Every minute that I’ve been waiting felt like torture.
Hunter stayed with me until he got a call from Jarod Cross asking him
to ‘report my location’. He’s going to say that I’m at the hotel and buy me
more time, but our ruse will be exposed if I don’t get on this plane.
Three more people in front of me.
My knee bounces.
My throat is dry.
Come on. Come on.
There’s a sudden shriek from the PA system in the airport. The noise is
followed by a male voice that sounds nothing like the calm, collected
announcers who usually make these broadcasts.
My suspicions are amplified when the speaker clears his throat and
mumbles, “Is it on?”
Chuckles erupt from the travelers around me.
I take a giant step forward. Shake my head. Tune out the announcer.
I’m almost there.
One more person before I can get on that plane.
“Brahms.” A dark, rough voice that I haven’t heard in far too long
makes my muscles seize. “Brahms, it’s me.” I freeze and glance up.
“If you’re still here, if you can hear my voice, I want you to know
something…”
“Miss.” The flight attendant collecting the tickets gestures to me.
“The first time I felt regret…was after meeting you.” A knife
lodges under my ribs. He… regrets meeting me?
“Miss, your ticket.” The flight attendant frowns my way. “Do you have
it?”
“Sh.” I lift a finger.
 Her eyebrows twitch and she screws her lips in annoyance.
“I regret the way I hurt you. I regret every time I made you cry. I regret
lying to you about that stupid will.”
“Is there a problem here?” A big, burly security officer arrives.
The people behind me are grumbling.
I’m holding up the line.
“Ma’am, step aside,” the security says.
I can’t feel my legs, so I honestly don’t know how I walk. The floor is
gone. The ceiling blew off. I’m drifting, floating somewhere beyond this
busy airport and the guards who are looking at me like I’m a criminal.
“In front of all these people, I want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m
deeply, truly sorry.”
I lift a hand to cover my mouth.
My knees shake.
“Ma’am, are you on any drugs? LSD? Heroin?”
I’d laugh if I wasn’t so blown away. They have no idea who I am.
Seeing the way drugs ripped mom’s life to shreds, I’d rather chew a bag of
safety pins than get caught up in that life.
“And I love you,” Dutch says.
Gasps break out.
One woman groans, “That’s so romantic.”
“Ma’am, I need you to focus,” the security guard says.
“He’s talking about me,” I mumble.
“What?” He arches a bushy eyebrow.
“I’ll be waiting for you in front of the information desk on Floor 3. If
you’re still in the airport, meet me there in five minutes.” “Where is that?
Where’s Floor 3?” I shriek.
The security guard finally seems to catch on and he motions to me.
“This way.”
I scramble behind him as the giant man clears a path for me and
squawks into his walkie. “Referring to the Code Adam, I have the target in
custody. Repeat, I have the target in custody. We are en route. Hold the
train.”
 He tugs me through the crowd and I notice there’s a train waiting for
me.
“Boyfriend?” The security asks as he helps me onto the carriage.
My heart races and I feel a zing of excitement. “Fiancée.”
The security winks. “Congratulations.”
I smile distractedly at him and grab the bar of the train as the doors
close. The three minute travel between floors is the most nerve wracking of
my life.
When I step off the train, I’m surprised at the sight of another security
guard.
“Brahms?” She points to me.
I nod.
“Get in.” She motions to the golf cart waiting near the train.
My eyes double in size.
“Quickly.”
I jump on and my head snaps back immediately as she takes off like a
race car driver. We weave through travelers, zipping across the airport.
Finally, she stops in front of the desk and juts her chin. “I love a good
happily ever after.” She winks. “You kids be happy.” I grin and glance
toward the information desk.
My breath catches in my throat when I see him. Steel giant. Broad
shoulders. Eyes like the setting son and a mouth that’s crafted for absolute
bliss. A worried frown mars his handsome face but it disappears when he
catches sight of me, replaced by gratitude, regret and wonder.
“Brahms.”
I hop out of the golf cart and start running.
 CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CADENCE

My arms close around his neck and he catches me soundly. I look up into
eyes of fire and golden sunlight. The numbness that consumed me peels
away until it feels like I’m standing in the sun.
“Cadey.”
“What are you doing here?”
He glances around and his shoulders stiffen slightly. “Come with me.”
I stumble behind him as he leads me away from the information desk.
We weave through the crowd, moving briskly.
“What are we running from?” I ask, panting as I keep up.
“Our tail.” He grunts.
“Did your dad send someone to spy on me? How long have they been
watching?” My face pales.
“It’s not just my dad.” He shakes his head. Messy blond hair curls under
his ears, damp with rain. “It’s a long story.”
We fast-walk through the airport. His grip on me is like granite.
Everything about him is hard-concrete, from head to toe. From skin to soul.
Did he really declare his love for me over the airport PA?
Dutch Cross?
Ruler of Redwood Prep?
More cheesy than heroes at the end of a romantic comedy?
My lips curl up.
He glances over his shoulder and his eyebrows furrow. “What’s so
funny?”
 “Everything with you has to be intense, doesn’t it?” His
nose scrunches. He doesn’t understand.
I don’t either.
A light, bubbling feeling is spreading through my body. Whatever
danger Dutch is sensing, the sensation inside me is ten times more lethal.
It’s consuming. Blinding. The kind of resolution that made Romeo and
Juliette choose a tragic ending.
A kind of violent, all-or-nothing, take me to hell and back kind of
commitment.
The curse of love.
Now, it’s settling around me.
A tight hug.
No resistance.
Dutch leads me to the entrance of the VIP section.
“Mr. Cross.” Someone unclips a velvet rope.
He drags me inside without acknowledging him.
Once the door closes, I step around in a slow circle, my eyes wide.
“Is there a hotel in the airport?” I gawk, temporarily distracted by the
sofas, counters lined with snacks, and massage chairs.
“It’s a private lounge.” He sweeps the curtains closed and locks the
door.
I watch him prowl the room and shivers run down my spine. Love
didn’t soften him the way it softened me. He’s still moving darkness. Hard
edges. Shadows shifting through his eyes. He’s still the cruel leader of The
Kings. But he’s also… What is it?
He’s also… mine.
All of him—the good, the bad, and the… well, Dutch Cross is many
things, but definitely not ‘ugly’.
What are you getting yourself into, Cadey?
“There are some things I need to clarify.” Dutch growls, turning to look
at me with those sharp eyes. “And I need you to listen because I mean
every word.” I nod.
 “My mom told me about my grandmother’s will recently, but I wanted
to marry you long before that. The night I came to your apartment, I’d
already decided that my future belonged to you.” I open my mouth.
He keeps talking. “And that blonde girl from Jinx’s app?”
“It was Breeze.”
“I—” He stops and looks at me with a question in his eyes.
“She texted me this morning and clarified what those pictures were.”
‘I don’t want you to think I went after your man. I don’t approve of him,
but I certainly wouldn’t steal him from my best friend.’
He juts his chin down. Prowls in the other direction. “I’ve been trying to
get you pregnant.” I flinch.
He stops and stares at me. “I want you to have my children, but not at
the cost of losing you.”
“So you’re giving up on the will?”
“If that’s what I have to do.” His face darkens. It’s like looking into a
rumbling storm cloud, lightning flashing inside a hurricane. “You’re mine,
Cadey. Always have been. Always will be and nothing can change that. No
one can change that. Not my dad. Not my brothers. Not… even if I find out
you’re pregnant with Hunter’s child, I’d still lay my life down for you and
the baby.”
My eyebrows hike. “What?”
Dutch studies my face. Suddenly, he crosses the room to me. Hard
fingers squeeze my waist. “Listen up and listen well, Cadence. I told you
once that I’ll love who you love and I’ll hate who you hate. If one day,
you’re pregnant and it’s Hunter’s baby, I’ll love him like it’s my own damn
blood.”
I blink up at him in shock. “Dutch, what are you talking about?”
“I mean that.” He grabs my face gently and holds my head up. “We can
have children or we can hold off. You can tell me right here, right now, that
you never want kids, ever. Or you can tell me that Hunter’s… that you
two…”
Dutch thinks I slept with Hunter last night.
Feeling especially cruel and wanting to test him, I say, “Would you
really take care of the baby if it was Hunter’s?”
 There’s not a second of hesitation. Not a glimmer of unease.
Dutch gathers me by the small of my back and growls darkly, “I’d
rather have you and some other guy’s baby than not have you at all.” “What
about your dad?”
The muscles in his face go taut.
“He’s not going to just… let us be together. He sent me away. He made
me think you were a drug dealer. If you and I… if things change
—”
Dutch’s eyes glint with danger. He bites out, “I won’t let anyone take
you away from me.” Rough hands cup my cheek. “You’re my drug, Cadey.
I’m addicted to you. I’d do anything to have you. The more of you I taste,
the more I want.” His thumb slides over my cheek. “I’ve never loved like
this before. Nothing else matters but you. And I have no intentions of
hurting you again.” My hands cover his.
“Tell me,” he demands, an edge of violence to his voice. “Tell me I
haven’t lost you.”
“I showed up, didn’t I?”
His eyes narrow. “I want to hear it.”
I lick my lips and stare up into a face that used to feature in my
nightmares. A face that morphed into my secret dream.
“I wanted to hate you. You’re annoying. You’re pushy. You’re
absolutely unreasonable.”
His eyes narrow slightly.
“But,” I push up on my tiptoes, “I don’t hate you. I never really did.”
“Then what is it, Cadey?”
Those words. They’re so big. So absolute.
At least for me.
I lick my lips and whisper, “I love you, Dutch.”
His smile is decidedly more wicked as he steps into me. “Again.”
“No.”
He advances. A predator on the savannah. And I’m the clueless gazelle
who doesn’t even realize she’s prey.
I inch back.
Not that I get far.
 Dutch pushes me into the wall and pens me in with an arm on either
side. “Again, Cadey.”
“You heard me the first time,” I whisper, my fingers sliding over his
broad shoulders.
He leans in close, his face up against mine. My eyes fall shut
automatically. Emotions arc through me like burning asteroids plummeting
toward earth.
“Scared already?”
“We’re not going to be that cheesy couple who says ‘I love you’ every
second. That’s gross,” I murmur.
Dutch’s breath whispers across my lips and I shiver.
“We are going to be that gross couple,” he grinds out. “It’s…”
My eyes open. “Inevitable?”
Amber eyes burn into mine. The edge of his mouth twists up in a cruel
sort of smirk.
“So much to learn,” he mumbles.
And then his mouth descends.
His lips are hot, scalding. So is his tongue as it strokes mine to a rhythm
that obliterates every thought. His hands rove my body with an incessant
demand. More, he’s saying without ever tearing his mouth off my face.
I kiss him back with everything in me, a whirlwind of passion
drumming up from the depths of my soul.
Dutch called me his drug.
But I think he’s mine.
My desire.
My need.
My obsession.
His fingers roam lower and I think he’s going to unbutton my jeans but,
instead, he palms my stomach and pushes slightly.
My mouth disconnects from his and I groan in frustration at the
distance.
“Marry me,” he growls. “Be my wife, Cadey.” I don’t
think in that moment. I just feel and let it sit.
My choice.
What do I want?
And Dutch waits.
For several seconds, we stand there, staring at each other.
I tilt my head up. “Yes.”
 CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

DUTCH

I adjust my black suit jacket and run my fingers through my hair. Throwing
the door open, I step out of the boutique’s changing room and throw my
arms wide so my brothers can inspect me.
“Where’s the bow tie?” Finn asks, slouched in the corner of the pristine
white sofa.
“I’m not a bow tie kind of guy.” Zane
rolls his eyes.
Finn scolds me, “Cadence chose this suit for you. You should wear it
the right way.”
“I hate tuxedos.”
“It’s a suit, not a tuxedo. And without the bow tie, you look like you’re
a drunk eloping in Vegas, not New York,” Zane says.
I glance through the windows, admiring the New York skyline. “It’s
almost the same thing.”
I preferred Vegas actually. There, we could have gotten married on the
same day. Here in New York, we had to wait twenty-four hours after
receiving the license.
It worked out though. My brothers were able to fly over and bring Vi
with them. The moment Cadence saw her sister, they collided in a tangle of
arms, hair and tears.
I really don’t understand women.
“This isn’t my only shot. I plan on getting married again,” I growl.
“You’re already thinking of divorce?” Finn raises both eyebrows.
 “Divorce isn’t in my vocabulary.” I adjust my cuffs. “Cadey is never
getting rid of me. I meant I’m giving her the big, million-dollar wedding
she deserves later on, when I’m sure dad won’t try to ruin it.”
Zane snorts. “It’s strange that he’s not barging in right now.”
“He probably thinks Dutch wouldn’t go through with a wedding after
seeing the pictures.”
“What pictures?” I ask, fixing my collar.
“Right after you left for the airport, we got a package. Inside were
pictures of Cadence and Hunter together,” Finn says dryly.
“Dad and mom were spying on her. It’s insane.” Zane blows out a
breath.
“We don’t have normal parents,” Finn agrees.
“Maybe that’s why we’re not normal,” Zane muses. He walks up to me
and holds the bow tie up.
I grit my teeth and dutifully tie it around my neck.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Vi slips through, wearing a frilly pink dress. I told her to choose
whatever she wanted from the store and she spent the next three hours
agonizing over all her favorites. In the end, I told her to choose one and I’d
buy her the rest.
“Wow.” Vi’s eyes light up. “Dutch, you look really handsome.”
“It’s the bow, right?” Zane says proudly.
“I can’t believe my sister’s getting married to the lead guitarist of The
Kings.” Her voice sounds dazzled.
“Is Cadence ready?” Finn asks, checking his watch. “We told the
wedding planner we’d meet at three o’clock and it’s two forty now.”
Vi scratches her nails into the door knob and chews on her bottom lip.
“Is Cadey okay?” I ask, my eyes fastening on her nervous expression.
“Not really.”
I’m in front of her in a snap. “What happened?” So
many things could go wrong.
Dad might have kidnapped her.
Hunter might have rushed over to declare his love.
 Sol might be trying to steal her away.
Breeze might have found out and flew over here to dissuade her from
marrying me.
“What is it?” I demand.
“Cadey’s blowing chunks,” Vi whispers.
My eyes meet my brother’s.
“She said it was just nerves, but I don’t know. My sister doesn’t throw
up much. And she never gets sick…” I rush out of the room.
Vi, Finn, and Zane are right behind me.
“This way,” the manager gestures with white-gloved hands.
I storm into the bathroom and notice there are other women who are
inside.
“I need the room,” I bark.
The women watch me like I’m insane.
“His fiancée’s in here,” Zane says, flashing a smile and charming the
ladies into doing his bidding.
Finn gestures to the door, helping to escort them. “This way.” The
room empties in three seconds flat.
“Cadey, I brought Dutch,” Vi says, tapping lightly on the closed
bathroom stall.
“Why?” Cadey’s voice sounds weak. “I’m fine.”
I glance under the slit of the stall door and see tulle creeping out like an
explosion of white, lace, and fabric.
“Throwing up in your wedding dress is your definition of ‘fine’?” I
growl, worried out of my mind.
“I drank too much before I left London.”
“Hangovers usually don’t last for two days,” Finn says thoughtfully.
I hear a retching sound and my heart shatters.
Scrambling up, I grab the handle of the door. “I’m coming in,
Cadey.”
“No,” she moans. “It’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress.”
“I don’t give a damn.” I ram my shoulder into the door when it won’t
open.
 “Dutch.” Vi slides in front of me before I can kick the door. She gives
me a stubborn look.
Small and delicate, but brave…
Like her sister.
I remain frozen in place, but I’m breathing hard and ready to crash
through the doors if I hear Cadey in pain. Finn and Zane will hold Vi back
for me.
“Cadey?” Vi says, whirling around and putting her ear to the door.
“I’m okay.” Cadey’s voice is shaking. “I’m… okay.”
“Did you eat something bad?”
“I didn’t eat much this morning,” she admits.
“And you didn’t get much rest last night either,” I mumble, feeling a
twinge of guilt. Since it was Cadey’s eighteenth birthday, I made sure we…
celebrated in our own way.
Vi gives me a curious look.
I clear my expression, knowing instinctively that Cadey wouldn’t want
her little sister suspecting what we do in the bedroom.
Zane stands beside me and whispers in my ear, “It might be nerves.”
“Or…” Finn joins me too. His almond-shaped eyes bore into mine. “It
might be—”
“A baby?” Vi says excitedly.
I smirk and cross my arms over my chest, pleased even if I don’t think
that’s the case. Cadey told me about her mom giving her pills last week.
And I doubt we’d be pregnant this fast, even if we did spend all last night
making sure a baby was in our future.
The toilet flushes.
“Dutch, turn around,” Cadey orders.
I hear the steel in her voice and decide not to stress her out by arguing.
Turning, I face the mirror.
“Go outside.”
“Just let me make sure you’re okay,” I plead.
“I’m fine,” Cadey says again.
I remain where I am.
“Leave or I’m not getting married to you today.”
 My shoulders tighten. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.” I grit my teeth.
Zane glances at Finn. “I thought they’d stop fighting now that they’re
finally getting married.”
“Marriage doesn’t change people, Zane. It only joins what’s already
there. That’s why you shouldn’t jump into it without making sure your
partner’s ready.” He glances at the bathroom stall. “Are you sure you want
to go through with it? He’s not going to get any better than this.” “Screw
off, Finn. I’m leaving. I’m leaving.” I stomp out.
I hear Vi and my brothers laughing at me.
Freaking backstabbers.
Since I’m all the way in the corridor, I only faintly hear the bathroom
stall swing open.
“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not pregnant,” Cadey says loud enough
for me to hear from outside. “I think it might just be the stomach flu.”
“Do you want to postpone the wedding?” I ask, holding my breath.
“No,” Cadey says. “Let’s do this.” I smirk.
That’s my girl.
Finn, Zane and I pay for our wedding attires and get into the car waiting
outside. The boys put a blindfold on me so Cadey can get into the same car.
There’s no freaking way I’m letting her out of my sight until we’re
declared man and wife. Maybe I’m paranoid, but I don’t know what dad’s
going to do when he finds out I made up with Cadey at the airport.
For the foreseeable future, I’m sticking to my woman like glue.
We stop in front of a penthouse and climb out.
A familiar voice greets us in the lobby.
“Wow. I’ve done some wild things, but nothing as wild as getting
married at eighteen.”
I smirk at the sound of Bex Dane’s voice.
Another reason why we chose New York—dad doesn’t mess with Bex
Dane. I think a part of him is intimidated by Bex’s rising fame, which is
why he hates him so much.
“Everything’s ready?” Zane asks.
“Penthouse is that way.”
 I’m still blindfolded, but I assume Bex just pointed up.
“Someone pinch me. I think Bex Dane just looked me in the eyes,” Vi
squeals.
“Hi, pretty lady.”
“She’s thirteen,” Cadey says immediately.
I snort.
Bex laughs too.
“I’m dead. I’m deceased,” Vi hisses like a hot air balloon soaring
through the sky.
My brothers separate from me to take Cadey upstairs. I stay back with
Bex and finally take my blindfold off.
He slaps me on the back. “You turned down my press tour manager so
many times that when you finally reached out first, he fainted.”
“Sorry to barge in like this.”
“It’s fine. Not often that you make genuine connections in this industry.
I’d say if you find the right one, you hold on tight.”
There’s a dark glimmer in his eyes. Almost like regret.
If I cared enough, I’d probably ask.
But I don’t.
I just want to get married to Cadey as soon as possible.
“Hey, Dutch,” Bex says, “since I kindly lent you boys my penthouse,
how about you return the favor by opening for me next year on my world
tour? You’ll be out of high school by then.”
I smirk. “I’ll think about that after I make the best decision of my life.”
Bex chuckles. “Better than a no.”
I head to the elevators.
It’s time to make Cadence Cooper a Mrs.
 CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CADENCE

“I can’t believe you’re getting married in Bex Dane’s penthouse,” Vi says

as we line up outside the doors to the balcony. “One of the biggest
celebrities in the whole world and we’re just… standing in his living
room.”
My sister looks like her head is about to explode.
“How is this my life?” Vi squeals.
“This isn’t your life. We’re just borrowing this place.”
She slowly turns to face me. “I don’t get it. You’re so calm.”
“I’m nervous.”
“No, I mean about meeting Bex Dane. And about marrying Jarod
Cross’s son. We’re like… our family’s going to be royalty now.”
“Rock stars are just people,” I tell her.
“Yeah, super rich, super hot, super talented people. Let’s not act like
any of this is something normal people get to do.” She gestures to the suite.
I hook my arm around hers. “Royalty or not, I wouldn’t have wanted to
do this without you. Thank you for being here.”
“Of course.” Her eyes meet mine. Sparkling brown. Soft and innocent.
“I’ll always be here for you, Cadey.”
My bottom lip trembles.
I feel strangely emotional.
Maybe it’s the nerves.
The enormity of what I’m about to do is finally settling on me.
I’m going to be a wife.
I’m going to be Dutch Cross’s wife.
 The world still has so many obstacles in our way. It almost feels like we
should wait to conquer them all before we take this step. But I’d rather face
those obstacles with him, than alone.
And that’s a big freaking one-eighty from the way I’ve always been.
He’s changed me.
I think, in some ways, I’ve changed him too.
Music strikes up. It sounds like drums and a bass guitar. I’ve never
heard such a beautiful resonance from an instrument that deep. My eyes
widen. “Is that live?” “I think so,” Vi says.
“That must be our cue.” I shake out my sweaty hands, accept the
bouquet from my sister, and take our first step.
“Are you happy, Cadey?” Vi asks.
Another step.
“I am.”
“I wish dad could have been here,” Vi whispers.
“He’s here.” I smile down at her.
She smiles back.
None of us mention our mother. Right now, I just want to focus on what
I can. Mom is… she’s someone I don’t have to handle alone anymore.
And there’s comfort in that.
I’ll deal with her when I get back home.
“You look smoking by the way.” Vi winks. “Dutch is going to faint.”
“Let’s hope not. His tux is a rental.” Vi giggles.
We turn the bend and I finally get to see how the balcony’s been
decorated. A dazzled exhale gets trapped in my throat.
Bex Dane’s people managed to transform this balcony into a wedding
destination. Delicate white flowers. Beautiful arches. White cloth tastefully
draped over white pillars.
But nothing is as breathtaking as the backdrop of the New York skyline.
I don’t even want to think about how much it costs to see a view like that
every day.
Finn and Zane are to the side. Zane is playing an electric drum kit,
looking sharp and mischievous as always. Finn has on a white shirt and
black pants, but the simple outfit looks like a fashion statement as he plucks
his bass guitar.
My eyes skip over the brothers and land on the man at the end of the
aisle.
Dutch.
He’s wearing a black suit and a bowtie. His hair is slicked back for the
first time since I’ve met him.
As our eyes collide, something strange happens.
All the nerves in my stomach settle.
It’s like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.
Vi and I get to the front of the aisle. She breaks off to stand behind me
while Finn and Zane stand behind Dutch.
The officiant is a small man with a long, Santa beard. I don’t know if
they just grabbed a Salvation Army Santa off the street to do this or if that’s
just how he grows his facial hair. It doesn’t matter.
My entire focus is locked on Dutch.
As the officiant speaks about love, commitment and forever, Dutch
leans forward and says soft enough that only I can hear, “After I marry the
hell out of you, I’m going to rip that dress off.” His fingers tighten around
me.
My heart beats faster and heat washes over my skin. The memories of
him touching me last night are still sharp around the edges. Am I marrying a
man or a beast? And why doesn’t that scare me anymore?
“We’ll be traveling home right after this,” I mumble.
“Then we’ll have our honeymoon on the plane,” he murmurs.
I shudder, my body tightening with the promise burning in his eyes. I
can already feel his body pressing into me and my heart trembles in
anticipation.
“Dutch,” the officiant says.
Dutch cuts him a hard glance.
“Your vows?”
He nods. “Cadence Cooper, I’m going to love you, honor you and serve
you for the rest of your life. Words don’t mean a damn. So take this as day
one of me showing you—and I’m going to show you every day going
forward—why you’re the most important person in my life.” “Aw,” Vi says
behind me.
I squirm and push at my veil. “I didn’t write vows.”
“That’s okay. Just say what’s on your heart,” the officiant says.
I look up at Dutch. “I won’t promise you that I’ll always say what you
want to hear. Or that I’ll always do what you tell me to do.” “You don’t do
that already,” Zane mumbles.
Vi laughs.
“But I will promise you that I’ll be with you through thick and thin. The
world might not understand us, but they don’t have to. We’ll make our own
world. And we’ll rule it together. There will never be a Dutch Cross without
Cadence Cooper.”
Dutch looks touched. My heart flutters when I realize I’m the only one
who brings out that soft expression.
“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.
You may kiss the bride.”
Dutch yanks me toward him and kisses me like he’s branding me. Like
he’s drinking from an everlasting fountain. Like it’ll never be enough.
I faintly hear cheers but, inside my heart, fireworks are going off.
“Cadey.” Vi tugs at my sleeve.
I realize that what I think are fireworks is actually my phone’s ringtone.
“Cadey, someone’s been buzzing your phone for a while,” Vi admits. “I
didn’t want to tell you before the wedding, but they haven’t stopped.
I think it’s important.”
“Who is it?” Dutch grunts, looking like he’ll strangle whoever’s on the
other end of the line.
“It says ‘Miss Jamieson’.”
Zane’s head whips up and he barges over.
I glance at Dutch. “What do you think she wants?”
“I don’t know.”
Vi purses her lips. “Do you want me to—” “Answer
it,” I say, my stomach quivering.
Finn joins us.
We’re all crowding over the phone, waiting.
 A foreboding feeling rolls over me.
Dutch senses it and grabs my hand, squeezing my fingers in
encouragement.
“Put it on speaker,” Zane growls.
Vi does what he says.
“I’m here, Miss Jamieson.”
“Cadence?” Miss Jamieson sounds harried and nervous. “Thank God.
You finally picked up. Where are you?”
“I’m in New York.” I glance at the curious officiant, the stunning
skyline and the bright blue sky.
It’s my last chance to enjoy the view. This pit in my stomach isn’t going
away, and I have a feeling all this beauty is going to collapse around me
when this call is over.
“You need to catch a flight back. Now,” Miss Jamieson insists.
Dutch wraps an arm around me.
I smile at him. I’m not alone. Dutch is here. Vi is here. The Kings are
here.
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t want to tell you over the phone…”
“You can say it.”
She inhales a deep breath and lets it out. “I don’t know what’s going on,
but your mother…”
Vi’s eyes widen and she flings me a desperate look.
Miss Jamieson croaks, “your mother is dead.”

Thank you for reading! Cadence and Dutch’s love story is complete, but
Redwood Prep still has so many secrets to spill. The Kings will return in
2023.

JOIN THE MAILING LIST for an exclusive, cut scene of Cadence and Dutch
before the wedding.
 A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

Thank you so much for reading The Broken Note, Book 3 in the
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other readers by leaving a review.

The series continues with Zane’s POV coming next year so stay tuned!
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ALS O BY NELIA ALARC ON

The Redwood Kings Series

The Darkest Note
The Ruthless Note
The Broken Note

The Plutonian Warrior’s Series

The Alien Warrior’s Mate
The Alien Warrior’s Woman
The Alien Warrior’s Heart
The Alien Warrior’s Vow

Mates Of The Plutonians

Made For The Alien Warrior