Stepbrother Backstage (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 3) (30 page)

Chapter Eight

The vessel parts the water’s surface like silk as we coast
along in the moonlight. Cash’s powerful arms work the oars, propelling us
easily toward our destination—whatever that might be. The exertion distracts
him, gives him an outlet as he tells me more about the life that’s led him to
this moment.

“Dad wanted me to go to college more than anything,” he
says, pulling the heavy wooden oars along another arc, “His plan was for me to
take over the contracting business, as the oldest son and all. But I could
never picture myself wasting four years of my life that way. I thought, it was
easy for him to want that for me—he’d never been through it himself. There was
no way I was going to do what he wanted, but I don’t think either of us could
have known how far I’d blow by the mark…”

“By joining the army instead?” I ask gently.

“Exactly,” Cash goes on, “It was the last thing Dad wanted for
me. He already felt he’d lost part of his family when Mom left. He thought it
was my responsibility to stay and oversee things. But when I looked at the
state of the world, then…Everything that had happened to our country, in the
Middle East, far beyond our little lakeside bubble…I knew I couldn’t just plant
my feet and stay here. I needed to see what could be done. What
I
could
do. Guess I thought I was real hot shit when I was eighteen, imagining I could
go off and save the world.”

“Were you…Did you…” I stammer, unsure of how to proceed.

“You want to know about my time in the Army?” Cash asks,
“There’s not a whole lot to tell, to be honest.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe,” I reply.

He gives a wry laugh. “I just mean, I wasn’t there for long.
Truth be told, I’d barely seen combat when I was discharged.”

“Were you injured?”

“That I was,” he says, his eyes hardening, “But not like you
might imagine.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I say softly, resting a hand on
Cash’s knee, “But you can. If you like…”

For the first time since setting out, he brings his muscled
arms to a stop. The constant, lulling sound of the oar stokes dies away as we
coast along the clear lake in silence. In this moment, it feels like we’re the
only two people in the world, that nothing this remarkable has ever happened to
anyone before. I take in the sight of Cash, his profile cutting a sharp line
against the backdrop of the lake, and know that I’ll remember this moment for
as long as I live, whatever becomes of us now.

“I was injured,” he says slowly, his eyes cast off across
the lake, “But not in combat with the enemy. In a fight that broke out in our
quarters. A fight I started to…because I…”

He speaks through gritted teeth, fighting for every word he
manages to spit out. I get the feeling he’s never talked to anyone about
this—at least not in a very long time.

“What was the fight about, Cash?” I ask quietly, my
near-whisper carrying out across the still lake.

Cash draws a deep breath into his lungs and levels those
intense hazel eyes on me.

“There was this guy in my unit. An asshole jock type named
Rick. He was one of those guys who ruled his hometown, a real golden boy prick.
Thought he was entitled to anything he wanted ‘cause no one had been able to
take him down before.

“Rick and I were stationed in Iraq together. Us and a
handful of other young new recruits. There was one guy in particular who seemed
younger than all the rest of us—Drew. Really quiet, great with computers,
played the guitar. He reminded me a lot of Finn…This was back when Finn was
still fourteen, before he shot up like a damn weed.

“Anyway, we all got our asses handed to us the first couple
months in Iraq. Training is one thing, but nothing can prepare you for being
over there. You’re always on guard. One false move and you’re done. And it’s
not just the stress of constant danger, it’s fucking
lonely
. Not to
mention that with a bunch of young guys spending every waking moment together,
there’s gonna be some fucked up power plays and shit going on. Rick was the
worst with that. Always trying to one-up the rest of us, prove that he was
invincible…”

“Is that how your fight started?” I ask Cash, “Some sort of
power struggle with this guy?”

“I wish that was it,” Cash says, shaking his head. For the
first time since I’ve known him, I hear sadness color his voice. Regret.

“Then…what?” I press.

“I told you that Rick was a guy who went after whatever he
wanted,” Cash says, tearing his eyes away from mine. “I could look the other
way as long as what he wanted was the best bunk, or the most high-profile
mission, or even first dibs on grub. But a couple months into our tour…he
decided that what he wanted was a little human
contact
. And since our
base wasn’t exactly crawling with ladies…he decided he wanted it from the one
person on hand who couldn’t fight back. He decided to go after Drew.”

My stomach turns over as I come to understand Cash’s
meaning.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, feeling the color drain from my
face.

“Yeah, holy shit,” Cash growls, remembering. “People are only
just starting to realize how many women get assaulted while serving. But the
men? It happens to more of them than you’d ever believe, and they’re even less
likely to talk about it. I had no idea going into the Army that this kind of
thing could happen. I was so fucking naive. It happens all the goddamn time. It
happened…on my watch.

“I picked up on Rick’s motives early on, the way he’d tear
Drew down around the rest of us, try and make him feel powerless. I started
keeping an eye on Drew on the sly—we were nearly the same age, but he still
felt like a kid brother to me. I had to let him out of my sight for a few hours
one night while I was on patrol, but the second I got back I knew something was
up. Rick and Drew were nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the guys were barely
speaking. Everyone knew what was going on, but no one was going to stop it.
Maybe they thought—hey, better him than me.

“I found the two of them in one of the deserted bunks. Rick
had Drew cornered, pinned up against the wall, and…I don’t want to upset you
with a play-by-play. I’ll never forget that moment. It wasn’t just feeling
terrible for Drew, it was knowing that we’d all failed to protect him—
I’d
failed.”

“It sounds like you were the only one who
didn’t
fail
him, Cash,” I say, tears pricking my eyes at the thought of Drew. Of all the
other guys who suffer this same torment in silence. “And it shouldn’t have
fallen to you, to save him.”

“But it did. I completely blacked out,” Cash goes on, “The
next thing I remember, I’m pounding the shit out of Rick while the rest of the
guys try to pull me off. I did a fucking number on him, but I didn’t come out
totally unscathed. Couple broken ribs. Fucker even pulled his knife on me—he’d
already been using it to keep Drew quiet…Long story short, we were both
discharged.
Dishonorably
discharged.”

“But…but that’s such bullshit,” I seethe, “You deserve a
medal for what you did, not—”

“I don’t, is the thing,” Cash cuts me off, “What I did for
Drew was basic human decency. That’s it.”

“You don’t have to downplay it,” I tell him, studying his
stony face, his pained eyes.

“To tell you the truth, Maddie…” Cash goes on, reaching for
my hand, “That’s all I’ve ever been able to do. When I got kicked out of the
Army, all I told people was that I’d gotten in a fight. I couldn’t tell them
about why the fight had really started—Drew had already been through enough
without my using the worst moment of his life to get people off my case.”

“You mean…
no one
knows the truth?” I ask, astounded.

“No one but you,” he says, rubbing his thumb against my
hand. “And a couple of Army shrinks, but—”

“Not your brothers?” I press, “Not even your dad?”

“No,” he murmurs, closing his fingers tightly around mine, “
Especially
not my dad. If I’d told him why I’d gotten in that fight, he would have just
told me that I should’ve minded my own business. Kept in line. He’d never
understand. He’s never understood anything about protecting your own. But you,
Porter…Something tells me that you’re the only person who could ever understand
this. About me.”

“I do, Cash,” I whisper, staring deeply into his troubled
eyes, “Truly, I do.”

“Then I hope you also understand,” he says, his voice
rasping, “That when I care about someone, I’d do fucking anything for them. No
matter what the risks. No matter what the consequences. Nothing can stop me
from doing right by the people I care for. The
person
I care for. You
understand what I’m saying, don’t you?”

“I think I do,” I whisper back, my heart threatening to
burst straight through my ribcage.

“Think?” Cash growls, “I need you to
know
…”

I gasp as Cash wraps his arms around me, scooping me up as
if I weighed nothing. He pulls me into his lap as I clasp my hands behind his
neck. Brushing the dark blonde hair out of my face, Cash pulls me flush against
him, bringing his mouth to mine. I open to him at once, trembling at the
passion, the ferocity rippling beneath his muscled surface. Cash works my mouth
open wide, letting his tongue sweep powerfully against mine. I swing my legs
around, hooking my ankles behind his back and straddling him right there on the
canoe bench.

A low growl vibrates from him core as I grind my hips
against his already-stiff cock. Cash grabs hold of my ass with both hands,
squeezing hard. He pulls me even tighter to that irresistible length, pressing
hard in the exact place I need to feel him…
All
of him.

“I love how much you want me,” Cash growls, running his
hands up along my back.

“Looks like I’m not the only one,” I breathe, pressing back
against his rigid manhood, “Or should I say,
feels
like…”

“Believe it or not,” Cash laughs roughly, drawing back to
take me in, “Fucking you dirty in this boat was
not
my plan.”

“I don’t believe you,” I tease, raking my fingers down his
chest.

“If you can wait just a little while longer,” he says, “I’ll
show you what I actually had in mind for us.”

“You expect me to
wait
?!” I laugh incredulously,
“What kind of cruel and unusual—”

“I promise it’ll be worth it,” he smiles, circling his
strong hands around my waist.

“You and your promises…” I murmur, wanting nothing more than
to feel him
now
.

“I always make good on them in the end, don’t I?” he
challenges me. “Come on. Be a good little girl and keep your hands to yourself
for just—”

“Call me ‘little girl’ again and I’m swimming back to
shore,” I warn him, picking myself up off his lap and making a big show of
folding my hands in my lap. It’s a bluff, of course. There’s no way I could
tear myself away from him now. I try to ignore the throbbing need that rings
out just beneath them, pounding insistently between my legs.

“Duly noted,” Cash grins, grabbing hold of the oars once
more.

In a silence pulsing with desperate need, we soar across the
lake. I barely notice as the sky loses its inky black sheen, giving way to a
rich charcoal, then a heather gray. The sun must be about to rise. I can’t
think of a better way to greet a new day than this, all alone at the edge of
the world with the man I… The man I
what
? Want, certainly. Need,
perhaps. But what else?

Do I even dare put a word to how I feel for him?

“Here,” Cash says, his voice a low rasp.

I look past the bow of the canoe and spot a small stretch of
shoreline. It’s entirely hidden from sight, this spot—obscured by overhanging
trees and deep woods on all sides. The narrow beach looks unreachable, remote,
and
entirely private. A kick drum of
anticipation starts up in my core as we glide toward the shore. In one
masterful motion, Cash swings his legs into the shallow water, towing us the
rest of the way. My knees are trembling by the time we’ve reached the shore.
I’m sure that the very edges of my form must be vibrating with barely contained
desire.

From under his seat, Cash produces a thick gray blanket,
tightly rolled. Tucking it under his arm, he extends his hand to me. I lace my
fingers through his, pulling myself to standing. At once, Cash feels my
shakiness, and stops to steady me.

“Are you OK?” he asks, training his gaze on me.

“Of course,” I smile gamely, willing myself to calm down.

“You’re shaking like a leaf,” he murmurs, concerned.

“It’s nothing,” I tell him, laying my hands on his firm
chest, “Just…a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

His brow furrows. “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, “I
didn’t mean to scare you with all that—”

“No, Cash…” I cut him off earnestly, “You didn’t scare me.”

Cash’s story of valor and sacrifice didn’t scare me in the
slightest. Nor did knowing what he’s capable of doing, when pushed. What
did
scare me, though, was the feeling these revelations inspired in me. Or rather,
the depth of that feeling—the extent to which I’ve fallen hard for this
gorgeous, passionate, steel-willed stranger. This man I know I can never have
for long. I push the thought of our impending separation far out of mind. I
won’t let it ruin the moment at hand.

“That’s good,” Cash murmurs, taking my face in his hands. “I
never want you to be afraid of me, Maddie. You never have to be afraid of me. I
know how to control myself. I’ve had to learn. And goddamn, has that control
been tested.

“I know, Cash,” I whisper, wrapping my fingers around his
wrists.

And it’s the truth, too. There may be nothing but raw power
coursing beneath his sculpted exterior, but I know without needing proof that
he would never turn it against me—or anyone else who didn’t deserve it. Didn’t
he hold himself back from fighting Luke just yesterday? Didn’t he rise above
those asshole bikers the night we first met? His Dad may have passed down the
reckless impulse to do harm, but Cash has trained himself to be better. This is
a man who turned down a profitable business when it was offered on a silver
platter, simply because it was the right thing to do, by his code. And that is
a man I trust, implicitly.