The vest is still warm on my shoulders when Kade walks me down the hall.
Cal is asleep on Bode's shoulder with his little fist balled up in the shirt.
Kade: Put him in the back room. Door stays open.
Dara: Where are you taking him?
Bode: Where I can see him. He's not gonna wake up alone in this place.
Kade: Dara. With me.
His room is a bed, a desk, a safe, and nothing on the walls.
The lock clicks behind me, and every nerve in my body knows that sound.
Kade: Sit down. This is the part where you listen.
Dara: You said the club hides people. So hide us and let me go back to my kid.
Kade: That's not how this works. You stay in this room. Every night.
Dara: And Cal?
Kade: Cal's in the room next to Bode's. Nobody gets to him. Not Arlen, not Hank, not your fucking brother.
Dara: How long?
Kade: Until Arlen's gone.
Dara: That's not a fucking answer.
Kade: It's the only one you get.
He doesn't shove me off. He just waits until my hand drops on its own.
He turns the desk chair around and sits, elbows on his knees.
Kade: Three rules. You don't open this door. You don't touch a phone. You don't lie to me.
Dara: And if I break one?
Kade: Then you're out on the street with Cal, and Arlen can have you both.
He says it flat. There's no threat in his voice at all, which is how I know he means it.
Dara: You're a real bastard.
Kade: He called you a bitch in a room full of people and you stood there and took it.
Kade: That's done. You don't take that from anyone in this building.
Dara: I didn't have a choice.
Kade: Now you do. It's me.
My face goes hot, and it's shame and it's something else I don't want to name.
Dara: So what do I give you? You said every part.
Kade: Every part. That means I know where you are and who's in your ear.
Dara: Bullshit. Say it plain. I'm not fucking you for a bed.
Kade: When I want that, you'll be the one asking.
He stands up and the room shrinks. One thumb under my chin, lifting, easy.
Kade: Look at me when you tell me no.
I look. My breath goes short and my nipples go tight under the smock, and I hate him for it.
Dara: And if I say no and mean it?
Kade: Then I hear it. Once.
Kade: I'm not Arlen. But I'm not a fucking saint either.
He steps back and drops his hand, and somehow that's the part that rattles me.
Dara: You think this makes you better than him?
Kade: No. It makes me the one holding the door key.
I sit on the edge of the bed because my legs are done pretending.
The sheet smells like smoke and oil and him, and my stupid body likes it.
Dara: I hate you.
Kade: I don't give a shit. Hate me in here where it's quiet.
Kade: Bed's yours. I'll take the chair.
Dara: You're not sleeping in a chair in your own room.
Kade: Then shut up and get some sleep.
He kills the lamp and sits down in the dark, and I listen to him breathe.
Down the hall Cal is asleep, and Arlen is still out there, and this door is locked.
The price is coming. I just don't know what shape it takes yet.