Forever Yours, Sir (Doms of Decadence 2) - Page 70

“Hey, a few amazing fucks thank you very much. And no, I did this because I stupidly thought that it was what was best for you. If this was related to Angie’s death then I didn’t want to drag you into it. I forgot that without me around to watch over you, you tend to get yourself into trouble.”

She snorted. “Arrogant asshole.” She was silent for a long moment.

“Cady? What are you thinking?”

“That you really hurt me.” She glanced up at him and he was struck by the sadness in her gaze. “I was starting to trust you and you pushed me away without an explanation. I

thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought you rejected me. I don’t need you to protect me, I need you to keep your promises. I need you to talk to me.”

He knelt down at her feet, moving her legs apart gently to he rested between her thighs. “You’re right. I fucked up, majorly. Gray’s been giving me grief all week. I’m overprotective. Sometimes I can be overbearing. But I failed to save Angie, I didn’t want to fail you.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it but I can look after myself.”

Yeah, but she was a tiny little thing. It wouldn’t take much for a grown man to take her down, no matter how good her skills. Just look at what had happened to her last night. He ran his hands up her thighs.

“I know I can be an idiot and there will be times you’ll have to tell me to pull my head out of my ass, but do you think you can give me another chance? I promise that from now on I’ll talk to you. I’ve missed you so much, I know this distance between us has been my own fault, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you like crazy.”

“You pull this sort of shit again and I don’t care what reason you have, we’re over, understand?”

He nodded.

“All right,” she replied. “I guess I can understand why you did it. But from now on, you talk to me. I know I’m not the best communicator, either, so I guess it’s something we both have to work on.”

“Thank you, baby.” He rose up and leaning over, kissed her gently, aware of the bruise on her face. Sitting next to her, he drew her against his side, kissing the top of her head.

She moved closer and he heard her hiss of pain. “Time for your pain pills.”

Cady grabbed his arm as he reached for the pills. “Tell me about the rest of your family, you never talk about your parents.”

He hesitated, but then grabbed the pills and glass of water. “After you take the pills and lie down. Then I’ll tell you.”

Sending him a disgruntled look, she nevertheless took the pill he gave her then he helped her lie down with her head on his lap, looking up at him. Hunter gently massaged her temples. Cady closed her eyes with a sigh.

“I was eight when my mother died. Angie was just two. Life wasn’t perfect up until then, but no matter how bad things were mom always had a way of making things seem better. She was one of those people who just lit up a room when she walked into it. She even managed to make our dad relax and laugh.”

Cady opened her eyes. “What happened to her?”

“Close your eyes, I’m getting there. Dad got laid off when I was about seven and we lost our health insurance. He started drinking and Mom took more shifts at the diner where she worked. She was tired, working long hours, looking after two kids and my father. But she never grew angry or impatient. It was Halloween and I wanted to go trick-or-treating. I threw a fit because I wanted some stupid costume, I can’t even remember what it was now. It was late at night, but the mall was open late, so after her long shift at work, Mom got back in the car and drove to the mall. She fell asleep at the wheel and drifted off the road down an embankment. When they finally found her she was dead.”

Cady struggled to sit up, but he held her down. “Shh, lie still.”

“I want to hold you.”

He helped her sit, holding her on his lap. In truth, he needed to feel her arms around him.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” She leaned back, cupping his face between her hands. “You have to know that it wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” he replied. “My father certainly blamed me. He reminded me of that fact almost every day.”

“He probably blamed himself.”

“What?” he asked.

“He blamed himself and he took it out on you. He should have been helping out more, not drinking and wallowing in self-pity. Did he keep drinking?”

“Yeah, but he cut down, got a new job.” And made his son’s life a living hell.

“He should have been there for you, not blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault.”

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