Chapter 50

• Cade always figured Beau Walker’d die with half his secrets under his boots — a man didn’t come up rough like that without buryin’ more than he showed. But he also knew when Beau cracked those truths open, it was only ever to him — the one who’d pulled him off bar floors, patched him up after mean fights and meaner nights, hauled him home when his own daddy wouldn’t open the door.
• So when he heard Sadie’s voice on that porch swing — that sharp crack of “Tell me you didn’t leave her like that, Beau!” — Cade’s gut went cold. He didn’t need the rest. He knew what old Walker Sr. must’ve flung at her — knew the rough bones of it ‘cause Beau’d spit it out one whiskey-sour night at twenty-three, fist slammin’ the truck hood like the echo’d drown out the shame.
• When Sadie slammed the door on Beau’s truck lights that night, Cade didn’t wait to see if his sister’d break worse than she already had. He grabbed his keys and went huntin’.