Cade looked at me for a long moment, and nodded. "You would be the one person who could understand that, June," he said. "The problem is, what did you do with your shit? You became a fucking doctor. Joined the Navy. I didn't exactly go the honorable route."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "You joined the Marines."
"And then I joined the MC, June."
"You had your reasons, I'm sure," I said. "It was a place that fit. It wasn't all bad, from the beginning, right? You couldn't have known."
"June," he said. "You need to stop. Stop defending me. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it."
"Don't say that," I said. "It's bullshit. And, besides, I'm not defending you. I can think for myself."
"Do you know what I did for the MC?" he asked.
I shrugged. Nothing good, I was sure. "Probably a whole bunch of criminal stuff. I'm not naive, Cade. Give me some credit. I just think that you feeling ashamed of what you've done is pointless. Just because you've fucked up in the past doesn't mean you're fucked up forever. There's always a way to right things." I listened to myself say the words, the person who believed people couldn't ever change.
Did I really believe that, or was I just naively hoping Cade could change?
"June." He brought his face up, looked at me, unblinking. "I was the enforcer for the MC."
"So what?" Enforcer. I had an inkling of what that meant.
"So," he said. "It's not just because I was good at throwing punches, June."
"It's because you were a sniper," I said. "So you killed people for the MC." I wasn't asking. I was listening to how it sounded, the statement coming out of my mouth.
"On occasion," he said. "Still think I'm not fucked up forever?"
I couldn't answer.
"Yeah," he said. "I thought so." He exhaled, his eyes down, looking like he was deflating as he sat there. My heart ached for him, for the pain he carried. I wanted to tell him I couldn't answer because I was the one who was permanently fucked up. How could I judge him, when I was just as bad? It's not like I hadn't ever killed anyone.
"Cade," I said. I couldn't take it, watching him hurt like that. I crawled over to him from where I sat, moved across from him, put my fingers under his chin and tilted his head up. He shook his head away, and I took his face in my palms, made him look at me. "You're not fucked up."
"Don't, June," he said. "You don't know all of it. Not everything."
"What else is there?"
He took my wrists, pulled my hands off his face. "June. There's something..." His voice started to crack. "Shit, I can't even say it."
"What is it?" I pulled back, already tense. What could be that awful that he was so ashamed?
"June," he said. "Hell, I don't even know how to say it. Your sister- the ranch hand, it's all my fault, what happened."
"What are you talking about?"
"I knew about the two of them. I caught them together once, in the barn. I threw him out, sent her home. I should have done more, but I didn't. And it was my fault. If I would have kicked his ass, told someone..."
"This is your big secret? The thing you're so ashamed to admit?"
"June, I don't even know what to say..."
"Cade," I said, taking his head in my hands again, "I knew about them too. That night? I knew my sister was going out to party with him. She snuck out of the house."
"You knew about it," he repeated slowly.
"Yes," I said. "Have you been beating yourself up over this for all these years?"
He didn't say anything.
"Oh my God, Cade," I said. "We were kids. We didn't know any better." I leaned forward, kissed him lightly on the lips. He didn't push me away. So I kissed him again, gently, and his lips parted. Then he kissed me back. Wordlessly, I climbed on his lap, sat on his crossed legs, wrapped my legs around his back, held his head to my chest. I breathed in, feeling my heart rate settle and come down low as I held him tight against me. I kissed his forehead, breathed him in.
And felt warmth spread throughout my body, in response to the smell of him.
How wrong was it that I was thinking about how much I wanted him inside me? Cade was sitting here, feeling ashamed and horrible, and all I wanted to do was ride him.
As if he could read my thoughts, Cade looked up. "Come here," he said, his hand at the base of my neck, pulling my hair, pulling me into him. He kissed me, roughly, and I felt my nipples harden to his touch, need washing over me.
It wasn't slow and gentle, not like the way he'd made love to me this morning. This time, there was no time for foreplay; it was all I could do to rip myself away from him in order to grab a condom. I didn't want to talk anymore, and I didn't want to think about who Cade was or what he might be a part of. Hell, I didn't want to contemplate those questions myself.