She shudders against me, whole body trembling, and claws at my shirt like she’s begging me to do just that.
“I’ve just… I’ve been alone for so long. I’m so tired.” She inhales through another sob.
“And I thought if I finally just did it—jumped and came to Heart Springs—I could find answers. But all I’ve found are other people, other families, who are willing to do everything for each other, no matter the cost. And I… I shouldn’t be jealous. It’s so selfish. But fuck, Kade, I’m so jealous of you.”
Of me? What’s she talking about? A humorous laugh slips free.
“What the fuck for? Georgia, I’m a mess. Up until you dropped that bomb into my life, I was barely hanging on. I ignored my family for years—too fucked up, too broken and ashamed of…” God, now I’m the one tearing up, choking on my words. “Of what I did.”
After a long moment, she pulls back and blinks tear-filled eyes up at me. “What are you talking about?”
My fingers tighten in her hair, and I let out a shaky breath. She’s opening up, vulnerable as hell because I practically blackmailed her into it. Least I can do is reciprocate.
But I can’t look her in the eyes when I do it, so I release her, stepping back. She lets out a pained whimper, like the distance hurts her, and I want to rush right back, but I don’t.
Knocking off my hat, I toss it next to her on the dresser and tug on my hair. And with one last breath, I let out the hardest guilt, the deepest pain of all.
“I killed my dad.”
Chapter Twenty Four
The Cost of Wanting
My first thought should bewhat the fuck is he talking about?Quickly followed by a scream, a kick to his nuts, and me running for my life.
But, God… all I can think is:He’s broken. Just like me.
Kade Archer is a good man.
An ass, sure—snarky, rude, brooding more times than not—but underneath all that rough-edged armor is something honest. Steady and solid. He’s got a good heart.
How could he not, being raised by Beatrice Archer? She’s the single most selfless person I’ve ever met. You don’t grow up loved like that and not carry some of it with you. Even if it gets buried under guilt and grief. And it’s clear he has enough of that to last a lifetime.
He’s dark… broken in a way that calls to all the fractured, ugly parts of me I pretend don’t exist. I’ve tried to stay away. Tried to ignore the tether between us that drags me back into his orbit every time we get too close. But it’s getting harder and harder to pretend I don’t feel it.
Especially when he holds me while I fall apart, rocks me and soothes me like I’m precious to him—like I matter. He was there for me, no questions asked. Worried on my behalf—angrily so, about what happened to me today to make me fall apart in Aurora's room like a crazy person.
He was here for me despite the shit I pulled on the back of that horse last week. I wanted to stay strong, but God, when he pulled that lash off my cheek and told me to make a wish like hemeant it, I couldn’t stop myself.
Kade didn’t make fun of me or laugh, he just accepted my childish dreams as reality, and gave me the only kindness he could in the face of my meltdown.
And now he’s the one unraveling.
I know how his dad died. William Archer passed from a sudden heart attack while Kade was halfway around the world. He had nothing to do with it.
No matter what logic says, grief makes liars out of us all, though.
I’ve been a liar for a long damn time, and it’s a lonely way to live. Maybe that’s why I move without letting myself overthink it.
Quietly, I slip off the dresser and smooth down my skirt. I step up behind him and press my chest to his back, wrap my arms around his waist, and just hold him the same way he held me.
He tenses at first, like he doesn’t know what to do with comfort, but then his hands come up, fingers wrapping gently around my arms where the sleeves of my sweater have ridden up. His palms are warm and rough, calloused and big.
Perfect.
I inhale his warm, clean smell—the notes of cedar and leather tamer than usual, and I wonder if it has something to do with the cowboy hat or belt he usually wears.
“What happened?”
