Fear rushed in.
Peripherally, I was aware that Cade was still close by — his arms bracketed around me on my stool, his intent gaze locked on my face — but I barely noticed his presence. All my focus was on the phone in my hand; the man’s voice coming through it.
“We don’t have anything to talk about,” I whispered.
“How about the fact that you royally fucked me over? Huh?” Adrian yelled so loud, I flinched. “How about the fact that you bolted in the middle of the fucking night — no note, no explanation. Leaving me alone to deal with Viggo and his boys. They have my balls in a fucking vise over this! The residency?—”
“I told you I didn’t want a residency.”
“No one turns down a six-month gig at The Palace.”
“I do!” My heart was thundering. “I told you, Adrian?—”
Cade’s whole frame stiffened and his expression changed. I was too caught up in the phone call to see it, or realize what it meant. Oblivious, I kept speaking.
“—I’m not doing another show. Not television, not live on stage, notanything.I must’ve told you that a dozen times. You didn’t listen. You made the arrangements with Viggo all on your own. If your balls are in a vise because of it, well, that’s on you. Don’t put it on me.”
“When did you turn into such a screaming bitch?”
“Probably around the same time you turned into an abusive manipulator! Or maybe it was the time you shattered my snow globe, just because you knew how much it mattered to me! Maybe it was the time you put your hands around my neck and made me spend a month wearing goddamn turtlenecks!”
Cade’s frame, already stiff, went ramrod. It was a good thing I didn’t notice his face, in that moment. If I had, I probably would’ve fallen off my stool.
I pulled in a ragged breath. “And, might I add, it wasJune!June is not a turtleneck month, asshole!”
“Doll...” Adrian’s voice turned cajoling. A familiar tool in his gaslighting arsenal. “We were always hot and heavy. Explosive. You want that kind of fire, you also get the burn?—”
At this point, Cade was done.
The phone vanished from my hand as he yanked it away. I (belatedly) lifted my eyes up to his face and felt my heart quail at what I saw. Not anger. Not even rage. This was pure, undilutedwrath.And all of it, every terrifying ounce, was directed straight down the line at the man on the other end.
“This is Detective Caden Hightower, Salem Police Department,” Cade clipped into the phone, his voice totally controlled even though his eyes were burning like blue fire. “Lose this number. You don’t, I will dedicate every bit of my time and every one of my resources to personally fucking you over. And I will take pleasure in doing it.”
Adrian said something I couldn’t make out, though I strained my ears to hear. Cade listened for approximately zero-point-three seconds, then cut him off again.
“I don’t give a fuck what you think you’re owed here. Imogen isn’t giving you a goddamned thing. Not her time, not her explanations, certainly not an apology. Not ever again. I already knew you were a piece of shit; this conversation is just further confirmation. You call her again, you even think about calling her, I will do exactly what you do with dog shit: throw it in the fucking bin and let it rot in a landfill somewhere for the rest of time.”
A tremble moved through me.
“That’s not a threat or a warning,” Cade growled. “It’s a vow.”
With that, he disconnected the call. Then, he proceeded to shut the phone off. I watched, wide-eyed, as the screen went completely dark in his hand. When he set it on the counter, my eyes finally shifted up to his face. I sucked in a breath. His wrath was still burning bright. If possible, even brighter than before. His jaw was clenched, the telltale muscle ticking in his cheek. His voice came out tight — like he didn’t trust himself to speak.
“Explain.”
“Cade—”
His jaw went even tighter. “Not asking.”
(i.e.: he was telling.)
Oh boy.
I hurried to explain. “That was Adrian.”
He waited.
“My ex.” I swallowed hard, trying to remain calm. “From three months ago. I told you about him the other night.”