Hurt me like you need me novel Chapter 4

Sawyer’s POV

My mom has made enough food for twelve people. There are four of us at the table.

She cooks when she’s nervous, so today we have roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade rolls, a salad nobody will touch, and a pie cooling on the counter.

She’s been at it since I got back from campus, moving around the kitchen in her good dress with her hair actually done for once, and I know — I know in my gut — that whatever tonight is about, it’s bigger than dinner.

Richard Ellory sits at the head of the table in the chair my father used to sit in before he went to prison. He’s wearing a button-down like this is a date, and he keeps touching my mom’s arm when she passes him.

Cade is late, obviously. He walks in twenty minutes past seven with wet hair and a smile that makes my mom light up and makes me want to put my fist through the wall.

“Sorry I’m late, Mrs. Drum. Practice ran over.” He kisses her on the cheek.

He actually kisses her on the cheek, and she laughs and waves him toward the table like he’s her son instead of the person I found balls-deep in a random dude six hours ago.

He sits across from me and catches my eye. His mouth twitches.

I look at my plate and start eating. The parents fill the silence.

“So how’s the first semester treating you boys?” Richard cuts into his chicken. “Cade says the swim team’s looking strong this year.”

“Strongest roster we’ve had since I joined.” Cade doesn’t even look up from his plate. Somehow that’s worse than bragging. “Coach thinks we’ve got a real shot at regionals.”

“That’s wonderful.” My mom beams at him from across the table like he just announced he cured cancer. “Sawyer, are you thinking about joining any teams?”

“No.”

She blinks. Richard fills the silence by reaching for the rolls.

“Sawyer’s more of a solo athlete,” Cade says, and the way he says it — casual, almost kind — makes my skin prickle. He glances at me with that helpful, supportive expression he puts on for parents. “I’ve seen him running laps around the track at six a.m. He’s fast.”

I stare at him. He’s seen me running at six in the morning. Which means he’s been watching me, and he wants me to know it.

“Is that true, honey?” My mom’s face lights up. “You should look into track. Richard, didn’t you say the track coach is—”

“I’m not joining track, Mom.” I stab a piece of chicken hard enough that the fork scrapes porcelain and everyone at the table flinches except Cade.

Cade just watches me with that patient, entertained expression, like a kid poking a wasp nest to see how many stings he can take before it stops being fun.

“I’m just saying, if Cade thinks you’re—”

“I don’t care what Cade thinks.” It comes out louder than the table is ready for.

My mom presses her lips together and reaches for her wine glass. Richard clears his throat and puts his hand over hers.

“Linda, this chicken is outstanding.” Richard smiles at my mom and puts his hand over hers, and I want to break every one of his fingers. He’s comforting her from me. “Is that rosemary?”

“Rosemary and thyme. It’s a new recipe.” She’s recovering, smoothing over the crack I just put in the evening. She’s good at that. Years of practice. “So, Cade.” She passes him the rolls with a warm smile, redirecting. “How’s the social life? Anyone special?”

I freeze with my fork halfway to my mouth.

Cade leans back in his chair and grins. “Actually, yeah. There’s this guy I’ve been seeing. Nothing serious yet, but he’s…” He pauses like he’s searching for the right word, and his eyes flick to mine for half a second. “Closed off.” He takes a bite of his roll and chews slowly. Swallows. “But I’m patient. He’ll come around.”

My grip tightens on my fork so hard the metal bites into my palm. I stare at my plate and think about the locker room. The guy pressed against the lockers. Cade’s shorts around his thighs. The way he looked at me while he kept going.

Who is he talking about? That guy? Someone else? Why the fuck do I care?

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” my mom says, and she means it. There’s no hesitation, she’s genuinely happy for him. “What’s he like?”

He’s describing me. He’s sitting at my mother’s dinner table, eating her food, and describing me to her face, and she’s nodding along like it’s sweet.

My mom actually laughs. “That’s what I keep telling Sawyer.”

Fuck no.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

“Linda and I have been together for several months now, and we’ve decided…” He squeezes her hand. “We’re getting married.”

You must be fucking kidding me.

My mom raises her left hand. There’s a ring on it. Small diamond, silver band. She’s been hiding it all evening.

The room tilts.

“We’ve found a house near campus,” Richard continues, his voice thick with the optimism that makes me want to scream. “Neutral territory, fresh start for everyone. Four bedrooms, big yard. Boys, your rooms will share a jack-and-jill bathroom so you won’t have to fight over the main one.”

My eyes snap to Cade’s across the table.

For one second — one honest, unguarded second — I see something real on his face. His smile drops. His jaw tightens. His blue eyes meet mine and I see my own horror reflected back at me, sharp and immediate and genuine.

He didn’t know. He’s just as blindsided as I am, and for that single second we’re on the same side of something, united in the understanding that our parents have just locked us in a cage together and thrown away the key.

Then the second passes.

Cade’s mouth curves into a slow smile that says I’m going to enjoy this.

“That’s amazing, Dad.” Cade turns to my mom and his voice is pure warmth. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Drum.”

Richard beams across the table at both of us. “You two will finally get to be real brothers.”