Proof (Targes Executive Protection Book 1)

“It’s a mistake,” Cass repeated for what had to be the tenth time. He was pacing in my brother’s office, his expression ping-ponging between confusion and denial. Sully was on his second scotch, his eyes shifting from Cass to the bruises on my throat and face. I’d chosen to wear long sleeves so there would be one less bruise for both men to have to look at.

After the incident at the houseboat, I’d called Sully to let him know we were heading to his office. My brother had been waiting outside the building for us. Cass had been closer to him, so Sully had hugged him first, not noticing how on edge he was. I’d been next. My brother had been so relieved to see me that he hadn’t noticed the red marks on my face and throat, or the small butterfly bandages on my left temple.

Sully’s bear hug had both warmed me and left me carrying a lot of guilt. I’d whispered the words “I’m sorry” to him, but he’d surprised me by telling me not to be sorry because I’d done what I’d needed to do.

The implication that Sully was finally accepting the fact that I no longer needed to be taken care of had been short-lived when he’d seen my injuries. I’d told him it wasn’t important who’d given them to me, but Overprotective Sully had instantly reappeared, and the moment he’d looked at Cass only to have Cass look away from both of us, my big brother had known.

I’d known I wouldn’t be able to physically hold on to Sully so I could explain everything, so I’d resorted to using a few tactical moves on my brother that hadn’t actually hurt him but that had gotten his attention, nonetheless. It hadn’t hurt that the young man who worked as my brother’s assistant had noticed the scuffle from his desk in the lobby and had called for reinforcements.

Since I knew how ashamed Cass felt for what he’d unintentionally done to me, I’d also known that he wouldn’t have defended himself from Sully’s attack. So I’d been glad when a few of Sully’s own men had exited the building. Boone had been among them and when I’d given him a quick nod in Cass’s direction, the imposing man had understood my message, and he and the other guys had formed a protective barrier between Sully and Cass.

When my brother had finally promised me to keep his trap shut and his fists at his side, we’d gone up to Sully’s office. Boone was lingering outside the open door in case of a scuffle, a move that I was grateful for. Knowing I had someone at my back allowed me to focus entirely on Cass. So far, Sully was keeping his promise, but without the information he needed, the unknown was causing him to reach for the scotch he kept on his desk. Luckily, he was leaving a significant amount of time between drinks. The last thing I needed was Drunk Overprotective Sully.

Before I could say anything, there were a couple of knocks on the open door. All three of us looked at Boone only to see Mikey, my brother’s assistant, enter the room.

“I’m sorry for the intrusion but I thought you guys might need some water and a few snacks while you talked,” the young man said crisply. Mikey moved quickly and efficiently as he set several bottles of water on Sully’s desk along with some sandwiches that looked freshly made. He also took a few cans of soda out of the bag everything had been in.

The tension in the room was heavy and the absolute silence was unexpected. The fact that, for once, none of it appeared to have anything to do with me and Cass was unbelievable. My brother’s frigid expression as he stared at Mikey didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was the fact that Mikey didn’t cringe or scurry away because of the scowl that had become Sully’s resting face at some point in his life.

“Thank you,” I said to Mikey.

“No problem,” he returned. He seemed pained, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of what had happened outside or if something else was troubling him. I expected Mikey to leave as quickly and silently as he’d come but to my disbelief, he walked around Sully’s desk and just as my brother lifted what would have been his third drink, Mikey plucked the glass from his thick fingers. Then, without a single word, he grabbed the bottle of scotch with his other hand and walked out of the office.

I turned to look at Sully only to see a bemused smile on his face. The second he saw me watching him, his scowl returned.

“Cass,” I said as I reached for one of the bottles of water. “Baby, come sit down. You haven’t slept or eaten, and we need you to help us talk through all this.” Cass was still pacing and seemed out of it, so I gently reached out to grab his fingers as he walked past me. The move had him stopping in his tracks. He looked at me, then Sully. It was like he was seeing us for the first time.

“Cass,” I repeated. “Please.” I nodded to the chair next to mine. I’d already turned it and the one I was sitting in so he and I would mostly be looking at each other as we spoke. He’d have a clear view of the open door, but he’d have to turn his head to look at Sully.

Which I figured was a good thing.

Cass released my fingers, but to my relief, he sat down in the chair. One leg was tapping nonstop, and his fingers kept flexing into fists. I opened the bottle of water for him. He took it without argument and drank down several gulps even as his free hand remained locked in a fist and the foot tapping continued.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” I said, touching Cass’s knee in the process so he’d focus on me. Cass looked at me and then around the room. He closed his eyes and pulled in several deep breaths. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d had to do the same move in order to remain calm in his prison cell.

After his break from reality on the houseboat, we’d spent the remainder of the day getting cleaned up and then going to sleep. I hadn’t gotten much sleep but thankfully, Cass had been out all night. As soon as he’d woken up, his brain had gone back into overdrive. He’d been so inside his head that he’d allowed me to drive his car to the office.

When he opened his eyes and looked at me, I began with, “The first time you went to see your grandmother, did it take as long to get past the guard at the gate as it did when you and I went?”

Cass was quiet for a moment before he nodded. “The guard working that day was the same one as today. Owen. He’s been working for the family for around twenty years, I think. That first time, he did recognize me before he asked to see my ID. I guess he would’ve had to have been living under a rock to not know who I was.” He’d relaxed his hands, but only so he could pick at the small cuts on his knuckles. Since he hadn’t punched me during his attack, I had to assume he’d taken his rage out on something on the boat before he’d sought out the corner of the bedroom.

“But he still made you show him your ID that day.”

“Yes,” Cass said. “It was always standard procedure for visitors.”

“Family too?”

“No,” he responded. “Family members either had an opener for the gate or were waved through.”

“What about when you’d visit your grandmother while you were still in the military?” I asked.

Cass shook his hand. “I don’t understand.” I had his complete attention now.

“When you’d come home when you were on leave, did it take as long to get through the gate as it did today and last week?”

“No. I had an opener back then but if there was any reason I didn’t have it on me, I would get waved through like the rest of the family. I guess it took so long today and the last time because maybe…” Cass’s words dropped off.

“… maybe they didn’t trust you? Renly and other family members were concerned you’d hurt your grandmother?”

“Maybe. Yeah, I guess so. But I haven’t seen any family besides my grandmother since I was released. As far as I know, my father still lives in his penthouse in the city, and all my cousins, uncles, aunts… they either live in one of the other houses on my grandmother’s estate or they’ve taken up residence at the houses and apartments that the Ashby companies own all over the world.”

“What about me?” I asked. “Owen must have recognized me, but he didn’t ask for my ID like he did yours. He spent a lot of time on the phone before he opened the gate. Did that happen the first time too? The time you were alone?”

Cass was silent for several beats. He’d stopped picking at his skin, but he was still tapping his foot. “Yes,” he finally responded. “I guess I didn’t think much of it. I was nervous about seeing my grandmother. I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think she’d want to see you?”

“Yeah, I figured she’d be afraid of me. Ashamed,” Cass said, his voice cracking. The reminder of how much he loved his grandmother made me want to stop asking the questions I needed to ask because I didn’t want to inflict any more pain on him. I wasn’t sure if his mind had started putting together the pieces of what had happened the previous day but by the time we were done talking, he’d be facing some hard truths.

“Was Renly the one to greet you both times?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Was he alone or was there any kind of other staff with him or nearby? Security guards or maybe guys that looked like they did other things around the house? Landscaping guys, those valets⁠—”

“No,” Cass interrupted. “He wasn’t nervous around me at all. He even left me alone with my grandmother. At one point, I went to find him so he could tell me more about her condition. He was waiting by the front door like he usually did when guests were being expected or they were already in the house. That first visit, I had full access to the house. I thought I could use that time to snoop around and maybe even find a relative and get myself invited to the family’s next social event. But no one was there.” He paused briefly. “In the past, it always seemed like the house was full of people who were there just to kiss my grandmother’s ass to get some money out of her.”

Cass took another few swallows from the bottle of water. Thankfully, Sully had remained silent.

“I figured maybe they were trying to keep Mother Ashby’s illness a secret from the rest of the family,” Cass added.

“Who do you mean by they?”

“My father and Renly. My father because he would rather see her locked behind closed doors for the rest of her life than tarnish the Ashby name by announcing that one of the country’s most beloved philanthropists was losing her mind. Renly, he would have done it out of loyalty.”

The bitter way Cass talked about his father and the man’s treatment of his own mother told me he was still locked in denial about several important facts.

“There were no security guards today, either,” I pointed out. “The guard at the gate saw you what, a week ago? You said he spent a lot of time on the phone talking to someone before he opened the gate for you last time. He did the same thing this time. Do you know why he was stalling?”

“Stalling?” Cass asked in surprise. It was the first sign of emotion in his voice.

“It made sense for that first call to take so long if Renly or whoever was in charge of security for the estate needed to call your father to determine whether or not to let you through. Maybe they were having trouble finding the right person who was authorized to make those kinds of decisions. But to do the same thing a week later after you had already proven you weren’t a threat to your grandmother? You said Renly left you alone with her on the first visit. If he wasn’t worried about leaving her alone with you, why wouldn’t he have told whoever was in charge that you could just be waved through the gate the next time you visited? Why didn’t he give you an opener for the gate?”

Cass went silent for several minutes. I could see Sully was getting impatient because he just wanted answers, but I knew this was something Cass needed to do. He needed to think. He needed to put aside the event that had triggered his breakdown and focus on one question at a time. It was easier said than done.

I sent Sully a warning look.

“Renly stayed,” Cass said softly. “He stayed this time when I… we were there with her.”

“But he left you alone with your grandmother on the first visit. Do you think he stayed this time because I was with you, and he thought I might be a threat to her?”

He was quiet for several long beats. Instead of answering my question, he said, “Renly never served the tea before. Not once from the time I was a kid. He never brought it, either. A maid usually did all of that. And you… Owen recognized you. I heard him say your name when he was talking on the phone. He should have checked your ID no matter what. And security guards should have been waiting for us at the house to check whether you were carrying any weapons, especially since you used to be a cop. My word wouldn’t have been enough to get you through. At least one security guard should have been with us at all times. That was always the policy when nonfamily members visited. The only person the rule didn’t apply to was my father.”

“Did Renly have the power to tell the security team to stand down?” I asked.

Cass shook his head. “No, not in the past, anyway. I guess maybe things could be different now.”

“Let’s assume that for whatever reason, Renly didn’t tell your father about your first visit with your grandmother, okay? There might not have been any security guards, but there were still a number of people working at the estate when we got there. Most of them probably recognized you. They wouldn’t have cared that you were an Ashby. Several of them probably would have only seen you as a multiple murderer who got off on a technicality. Isn’t it strange that none of them called 911 out of fear for themselves or your grandmother?” I asked. “When we were there yesterday, none of the maids looked at you and me directly, but they also didn’t shy away from you. They seemed tense around Renly, though. Did you notice that?”

Cass didn’t answer me. His agitation began to build. I didn’t try to stop him when he began to pick at his skin again and tapped his foot more quickly. They were the only coping mechanisms that were keeping him as calm as possible, given the circumstances. As much as I hated to do it, I knew I needed to fast-forward things.

“Your grandmother looked and acted the same way today as she did the last time you visited, right?” I asked.

“Mostly. She did seem quieter in the beginning. And when she thought I was my father and then my grandfather and she was trying to hide me… none of that made sense. I mean, it could make sense because she has dementia; I think seeing people or situations that aren’t real is part of the disease.”

Cass lifted his eyes for the first time and held my gaze. “That stuff just comes with the territory, doesn’t it?”

I knew what Cass wanted, needed my answer to be. It was written into his expression.

Despair.

Disbelief.

Denial.

I wanted so badly to tell him the words he needed to hear but I couldn’t lie to him. As badly as I wanted to protect him, I couldn’t risk letting him live a lie. I knew firsthand what happened when a person tried to do that.

So instead of answering him, I forced myself to continue with my line of questioning.

“Did you come out as gay to your family at any point?” I asked.

Cass shook his head. “There was no point. I knew how they felt about gay people. There’d been a few men and women, distant relatives, who’d been cut off because they didn’t hide their sexuality. They got cut off financially and no one in the family would speak to them, even their parents.”

“What about your grandmother?” I asked. “How would she have reacted?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think she would have been okay with it because it was my father and grandfather who were homophobic. All she ever did was try to protect me. I think she even donated money and sat on the boards of some foundations supporting the LGBTQ community.”

I pulled in a deep breath. “Cass, we agreed that when I walked into that place with you, it would be as a cop and not your lover.”

Cass nodded.

“I saw things that I’m not sure you did. Things I wouldn’t have wanted to see if I’d been in your position.”

“Like what?” he asked tentatively. I could already tell he wasn’t going to believe me. Not at first, anyway.

“Your grandmother stiffened whenever we touched. Even when she had her back turned to us, she could see everything that was happening in the reflection of the glass. When we talked about how we were working through stuff so we could be together… she heard that. Really heard it.”

Cass shook his head. “No, you saw her. She wasn’t in her right mind. The way she thought I was still in school, that shit about me being my father, then my grandfather or whatever the fuck all that was about. How could she be aware of some things, but not others?”

I could practically feel Sully tensing the louder Cass’s voice got as he stuck up for his grandmother.

“There were some other things that didn’t make sense. When we got there, her nightgown was dirty and her hair was messy, right?”

Cass nodded. “Renly said she spent a lot of her time in the garden.”

“Did she wear gloves?” I asked.

“What?”

“Gloves. Gardening gloves?”

“What the fuck does that matter?” Cass shouted. He jumped to his feet, knocking the open bottle of water to the floor in the process.

“Hey, you watch how you—” Sully began as he too stood.

“Sully, shut up!” I snapped before directing my attention back to Cass. I didn’t give a shit about what my brother was feeling at the moment.

“Cass, I need you to take some deep breaths and just listen, okay? Please.”

He had moved to the wall closest to the door where Boone was still standing. I suspected being near the open door made Cass feel less trapped. I hated that I was the one making the walls close in on him. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he was sucking in breath after breath, but he nodded.

“Do you remember the widow who lived across the street from me and Sully and Dad? Sully mowed her lawn to make extra money. She spent a lot of time in her garden. People who work in gardens on a regular basis get dirt under their nails. They don’t wear gloves because they like to feel the dirt in their hands. That means the dirt gets into the divots and cracks of the skin around the fingertips. It’s almost impossible to get off in one sitting. Their nails get chipped and cracked. Your grandmother’s nails were spotless. Yes, there were spots of dirt on the backs of her hands, but it doesn’t make sense how they would have gotten there. If her fingers were perfectly clean, wouldn’t her entire hands have been the same? Her hands smelled like soap and lotion. Her nails were perfectly shaped, not cracked and broken. Her hair was a mess, but I could smell the shampoo or hair products. That stuff had to have been applied in the last twenty-four hours⁠—”

“Stop it!” Cass shouted. “What you’re saying means nothing!”

I continued as if he hadn’t interrupted me. “When she picked up her tea, she held it perfectly still while she took a sip. Her movements were slow and graceful, like someone who’d been drinking tea from delicate cups their entire life. The rest of the time she was visibly trembling.”

“It proves nothing,” Cass said adamantly.

“Both times you went there, the gate guard, Owen, kept you waiting at least ten minutes. Enough time for someone to get themselves cleaned up. It would also be enough time to do the opposite… go from clean and finely dressed to disheveled and dirty. But things like muscle memory can’t just be turned on and off. Those things stay with you unless your body or mind have experienced actual physical damage. Something like picking up a nearly full, hot cup of tea from a delicate saucer, drinking from it without spilling even a drop, and returning it to where it belonged is an example of muscle memory.”

“Shut the fuck up, JJ. You’re just doing this because⁠—”

“Because why, Cass? Because I want to hurt you? Because I want to confuse you or make you rethink certain parts of your life?” I took a few steps toward him but stopped when he put his hand out.

“Don’t,” he croaked. “Just don’t.”

I would’ve given anything to do what he wanted—to stop. But that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to accept the truth.

“You saw yourself in that little boy, didn’t you?” I asked. “Charles.”

Cass shook his head and dropped his eyes. “JJ, please,” he whispered.

“JJ,” Sully said from somewhere behind me. I could hear his unspoken warning for me to back off.

“Get out,” I said firmly as I kept my eyes on Cass. When there was no movement behind me, I shouted, “Sully, get out! Now!”

The sound of my brother’s heavy footsteps moving didn’t give me any sense of victory. I saw him in my peripheral vision but didn’t take my eyes off Cass. The second Sully was gone, I nodded to Boone who slowly shut the door. I strode over to it and flipped the lock.

I turned my attention back to Cass, who hadn’t moved. I suspected he was trying to mentally crawl into one of his little compartments. The fact that I was the one forcing him in there was killing me, but another box that he would have to learn to live in was unacceptable to me.

“Charles,” I said softly. “Chandler Charles Ashby the Fourth.”

Cass flinched with every name I called out, including the number at the end. “Weren’t you the fourth?” I asked. “The fourth Chandler who would live up to the name that had been bestowed upon him?”

When Cass didn’t respond or even look up, I continued with, “Mother Ashby. Mother Ashby. ‘Mother’ because that’s who she wanted you to see her as and ‘Ashby’ to remind you that she wasn’t your mother? Was that how it worked?”

“She loved me, you fucker!” Cass snarled and then he was in my face and shoving me back against the door. “She was… is my mother! I took you there to show her that I was⁠—”

“Was what?” I interjected. Cass still had a hold of my shirt and my back was pressed painfully against the door, but I didn’t try to defend myself. “That you were happy? That you were okay?” I snapped. “Or maybe you wanted her to see that you’d made nice with the guy you supposedly tried to kill, and she’d let you come home?”

“That place was never my home!” Cass yelled. He shoved himself away from me. “She was my home,” he said quietly as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You and your family were my home.”

“We are your home,” I said softly.

If he heard me, he didn’t acknowledge my words. The way he held himself wasn’t the Cass I knew. The man before me was broken. Lost.

I had done that.

I had pushed too hard. I was trying to force him to admit something he wasn’t mentally prepared to do. “Cass, I’m sorry⁠—”

“You have so much power over me, JJ,” Cass cut in. “I don’t think you even know how much.” He returned to the chair he’d been sitting in. I slowly returned to mine but didn’t touch him or dare to interrupt him. His words, his demeanor—they were scaring me.

Cass was hunched over, his elbows on his knees, his hands holding each side of his head like he was in pain. “I would do anything for you,” he went on to say. My throat felt like it was going to close up because his words had such finality to them.

“Cass, please,” I whispered. I’d promised myself I would let him talk without interruption, but if I’d brought about the demise of the most important thing in my life, the most important person in my life… “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I shouldn’t have been treating this like an interrogation. You needed me to⁠—”

“JJ?”

“Yeah?” I responded shakily.

“It’s my turn to talk now, okay?” His words were gentle, soft.

Too gentle.

Too soft.

I’d never been in a relationship before, so I didn’t know how the whole breaking up thing happened, but it sure as shit felt like this was one of those moments.

I nodded in response. I’d dropped my eyes, so I had no idea if Cass had seen the nod, but since he wanted my silence, I gave it to him.

“I would do anything for you,” Cass repeated. “I would give you anything.”

My mouth was so dry I wouldn’t have been able to speak even if he’d wanted me to. How had I fucked this up?

“The one thing I’ll never do though, JJ, is let you put yourself, your life at risk. Our fight this morning… I think I was looking for some way for you to make the decision not to come with me.”

Cass fell silent for so long that I nearly blurted out that I didn’t understand what he was saying. I lifted my eyes and saw that he was staring straight ahead. He wasn’t looking at any one thing; it was more like he was looking into another time or place.

“If I had truly been worried about your safety, all I would have needed to do was call your brother and tell him where we were. He would have hog-tied you and thrown you in the back seat of his car so fast…” Cass let out a soft chuckle.

I couldn’t tell if he truly found the idea amusing or not. I remained silent so he would continue because I still wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make.

“That fight this morning was a last-ditch effort to avoid something I didn’t want to face,” he admitted.

Cass sighed and wiped at his eyes. “My gut told me there was something off when I went to see my grandmother the first time. I’ve always had good instincts, but not when it came to her. When I walked into the house that first time, it was so cold and dark. The curtains were drawn in most of the rooms that I saw on the lower floor and yet there were still fresh roses everywhere. And my grandmother’s appearance… Renly knew that she never would have wanted to be seen like that. All that time I was kept waiting at the gate… if it really had been meant to stall me, it would’ve been because Renly was having my grandmother cleaned up, not so that she would have time to…”

My heart broke for Cass as I realized what he was trying to say. “You wanted me to prove you were wrong—that your gut was wrong.”

Cass’s nod was so slight, I nearly missed it. He remained quiet for several long beats. Occasionally, he’d discreetly wipe at one of his eyes. His hair wasn’t quite long enough to shield the movement.

“She erased me,” Cass whispered. “I don’t know if it happened four years ago when Charles was born or when I went to prison… I guess it doesn’t really matter. I was the only one in the family who called her Mother Ashby. My father called her ‘Mum’ when I was younger but then even he started calling her what everyone in the family did: ‘Ma’am.’ She said I got to call her Mother because I was special. I was supposed to do important things one day. Her little rose.”

“You weren’t supposed to see Charles,” I suggested. “I got the impression from the way his nanny was calling him that yesterday wasn’t the first time he’d snuck past her.”

“The way he walked, the way he stopped in front of her but didn’t touch her, his hands behind his back like they were,” Cass said fiercely. “Always looking to her for approval. It was like looking in a fucking mirror when I was that age. I was only ever allowed to love her from a distance. It was the same way she loved me. I figured it was normal.”

He let out an ugly laugh. “I guess it was more than anyone else in the family got to do. I always thought I was the lucky one but maybe…”

“Cass, all we have is proof that she deceived you. It doesn’t mean she didn’t love⁠—”

“Officer Ferguson,” Cass interrupted, his voice even and empty. “Is it reasonable to say that Patricia Ashby was of sound mind when you last saw her?”

“Cass, don’t do it like this⁠—”

“I believe I asked you a question, Officer,” he stated more loudly.

I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to play this game with him. I knew what he wanted, but I didn’t want to give it to him. Not the way he wanted. We weren’t in a courtroom, there was no judge, no audience. It didn’t matter, though, because Cass was making it clear that he wanted facts and facts alone. He wanted distance and indifference. He was hurting, but he wanted to do it alone.

If I did it his way, it would be like sinking a knife into him every time I responded. He wanted the raw, ugly truth. He wanted me to force him to face the facts.

Facts that would do nothing but rip him to pieces.

“Yes,” I said. “Despite her attempts to appear mentally incompetent, several irregularities stood out that proved otherwise.”

“Any thoughts as to why she would have behaved in such a manner?”

“Cass—”

“Answer the question, JJ,” Cass interjected.

“She likely wanted to manipulate her grandson in some way.”

“Is it your belief that when her grandson was arrested and charged with three murders and the attempted murder of a police officer, she was mentally competent to come to his aid, if not financially, then at least in the form of emotional support?”

I swallowed hard. That was the question he’d really taken me to the Ashby estate to answer. He already knew the answer, but he couldn’t say it out loud. His mind couldn’t process that kind of betrayal. Not from his mother. He might have compartmentalized the possibility of it after his first visit, but his breakdown just after the second visit was proof that the truth wanted out of that box. Cass just wanted to hear the words so he could shove them back inside the box and lock it away with all the others.

“Cass,” I said gently as I reached for his hand. He jerked it back.

“The question⁠—”

“Enough!” I shouted.

“JJ, open this fucking door right now!” I heard Sully yell. I knew my brother would kick down the door, but I needed him to stay out of this.

For my sake.

And especially for Cass’s sake.

During Sully’s outburst, Cass had stood up and walked to the line of windows that overlooked the lower level of the renovated warehouse. I ignored the scuffle outside and went to him.

I knew what he would do when I grabbed him, but I was ready for it. The second my fingers wrapped around his lower arm, Cass grabbed my wrist to dislodge my hold so he could escape me yet again.

This time, I wasn’t letting go. I knew Cass could easily snap the bones in my wrist like they were nothing more than twigs beneath his boot, but I also knew something else. The first time it had happened had been the day I’d initially confronted him after his release. I’d had my gun pointed at his chest, but he hadn’t stopped coming for me until that gun had been pressed against his chest. When he’d easily taken it from me, he’d disabled the weapon and thrown it aside instead of pointing it at me. The same thing had happened in the cabin when I’d discovered the elaborate web of lies he and Sully had built to prove Cass would never hurt me. Their gamble had been right because when I’d held a gun on him for the second time, he’d ignored my warnings to stay where he was. He’d only stopped when I’d pointed the weapon at my own head.

What I was about to do was my own version of that same gamble. I just hoped like hell it worked. Not for me, but for Cass.

“I’m not letting go, Cass. I may not be strong enough to hold on to you at this very second, but I’m going to keep coming after you. I’m not ever letting you go. You’ll have to break something to get me to stop and even then, I won’t. So go for it,” I bit out as I tightened my hold on his wrist.

“Let go, JJ,” Cass warned, his voice icy cold.

Lethal.

“Never,” I said simply.

Cass was strong enough to physically pull my fingers from his arm, but the second he did, I grabbed him with my other hand.

“Let go,” Cass repeated. His voice held no emotion, but his eyes were dark and stormy.

“Never,” I repeated. I still had a piece of Cass with me but if I gave in for even a second, he’d become the man he’d been the day before. He’d be back in the prison cell that still existed in his mind, only this time he wouldn’t have a reason to ever leave it.

“Goddamn it, JJ!” Cass snarled. He ripped free of my hold but did it in a way that, like the first time, probably hurt him more than me. My fingers were going to leave bruises on his skin with how hard I was holding on to him, but I was sure I’d have few, if any, marks on me when all was said and done.

I heard banging and shouting on the other side of the door but ignored it. I was just hoping whoever had prevented my brother from kicking the damn thing down the first time was able to hold him off a little longer.

Cass and I continued the chaotic dance of him forcing one hand off his body only to have the other clamp down on a different part. Every muscle in his body was tight with fury. A mental image of him sitting on the floor of his prison cell popped into my head. In that moment, I could actually see him using every mental trick or tool that he’d learned in the military and during his cold, loveless childhood to remain in control of his body, his sanity.

My patience and conviction paid off when Cass finally lost his cool and slammed me up against one of the glass windowpanes that went from the floor of the office to its ceiling. Both his hands wrapped around my wrists and in one easy move he had my arms pinned above my head with one hand and the other at my throat. Unlike the day before, the only pressure he applied was the kind that was meant to hold me in place, not slowly steal my life. It was further proof that my Cass was still with me.

“No more hiding, Cass,” I said quietly. Considering the circumstances, I should have been the one panting and sweating and filled with complete and utter fear.

I wasn’t.

But Cass was.

“If you need to take your rage out on me, you have to do it right here, right now. Not in some box in your mind where you could do and say anything to hurt me as much as I hurt you. If you want to beg me not to leave you, do it right here, out loud, because that box is going away too. If you want to scream as loud as you can, do it now. It doesn’t matter who the fuck hears you because everyone should hear you! Every single person who condemned you to that godforsaken place should hear your screams in their nightmares for the rest of their lives.”

I paused only long enough to pull in a breath. “I don’t care if you open every single one of those goddamned boxes one at a time or all together, but you will open them and I’m going to be there when you do… every single fucking time. I promised I would never leave you again and I’m going to keep that fucking promise for the rest of our days.”

His hold on my wrists relaxed slightly, so I gentled my voice. “Our days, Cass. Our days. There’s no you and me anymore. There’s us. Only us. Always us.”

Cass’s face was flushed red and stained with sweat and tears. His hair clung to his forehead and his eyes remained locked on mine for what seemed like forever. My arms ached from being held above me for so long, but there was no pain around my wrists.

Just like there was no pain on my neck, not even where I was still sporting bruises from the previous day. If anything, his fingers felt more like a caress than any kind of threat.

“Us,” Cass whispered. He nodded slightly, but his voice was wobbly.

“Us,” I repeated firmly. Unwavering.

“Us,” he said with more certainty. He released my wrists and rubbed his hands up and down my arms to restore the blood flow. I settled them on his shoulders instead of dropping them to my sides. Both of Cass’s arms ended up around my waist as he slowly sank to the floor. I went with him.

When my knees hit the floor, he put his head against my chest and clung to me. I held him against me as his body began to violently shake. That was when the sobs began. I didn’t try to comfort Cass with words. I didn’t make him promises that everything would be okay. I didn’t even tell him how much I loved him.

I held on to him as tight as I could because that was what he needed me to do.

Truth was, I needed it too.