I wondered why such a simple question would make him angry. I moved to pull away, but he held me firmly. “I guess it’s Turner,” he finally replied. “You guess?” “That name hasn’t done me much good.” The tone in his voice was odd, almost like resignation. Resignation and deep, profound sorrow. Without even knowing why, I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. My hands fluttered of their own accord. They wanted to touch him, to smooth out those furrows on his forehead. But I hesitated, and then pulled away. Realizing I had no idea how to respond to him, I pressed my lips together and resigned myself to waiting for the right moment to draw him out. Now that I was riding with the Devil’s Due, I had all the time in the world to understand Cade Turner and figure out what it would take to make him happy. I wanted desperately for it to be me. I snuggled back down again, content with his answer for now. He’d tell me more later. Once we were out on the open road, heading out towards adventures and freedom, I would find out so much more.
