CAGED: GODS OF CHAOS (BOOK TEN) (Gods of Chaos MC 10)

by Honey Palomino

  Fully exposed, the fragile bones lay on display in a place of honor of the room.

  In the corner, two figures moved together, making out furiously, their hands running over each other’s bodies as they pulled at their clothes. The woman was topless, her pink bra exposed. The man was pulling roughly in an attempt to remove it, his body pressing her hard against the wall. Neither of them noticed me watching.

  “Danny, we shouldn’t do this here,” the woman whispered, attempting to push him away.

  “Shut up,” he growled, grabbing her wrists and pushing them over her head.

  “Danny,” she whimpered.

  I strained my eyes, raking over their bodies for any visible weapons, before shining my flashlight on them. They froze and the man turned to me slowly, releasing the woman’s wrists. She quickly reached down for her shirt and I pulled out my gun.

  “Freeze,” I said. “Hands up.”

  Danny turned, slowly put his hands up and started walking towards me.

  “Stop walking,” I demanded. He smiled at me, shaking his head.

  “Hey we weren’t hurting anything,” he said, still walking.

  “I said, stop walking! Now!”

  “Danny!” The woman cried behind him. He stopped, staring me down, his eyes looking over my body and then quickly darting behind me.

  “You alone?” he asked. “You can join us, if you want.”

  “Shut up! Keep your hands up,” I said to him. I gestured to the woman. “Put your shirt back on.”

  She quickly pulled it over head and put her hands back up.

  “We didn’t mean anything,” she began talking quickly, her voice shaking. “We were just messing around. We’ll leave, okay? Just let us go.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  Where was that damned guard? I wondered.

  “Stay where you are,” I said, walking over to the man, who was actually not much of a man at all. He was tall, but clearly still young. Probably no more than nineteen, his face almost innocent, except for that look in his eye that told me he was anything but innocent. I kept my gun drawn, quickly frisking him.

  “Do you have any weapons?” I asked.

  “Only between my legs,” he quipped.

  “Danny, shut up!” the woman said. The guy laughed and I scanned over his clothes — dirty, the bottoms of his jeans worn out, his shoes worn, his t-shirt had a large rip in the back. By the smell and sight of things, he was living on the street.

  I cuffed him and ordered him to sit down. I turned to the girl and looked her over. She looked even younger than him.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Alice, but I’m changing it,” she said, raising her chin. “I’m not sure to what yet.”

  “Why did you two come in here?” I asked, frisking her, my hands running over her arms and legs. She looked over at the man nervously, then shook her head.

  “Just to get out of the rain,” she shrugged.

  “There’s better places to do that at four in the morning.”

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Listen, it’s just us. Nobody saw us but you, right? You can let us go, can’t you?”

  She was right. I could. In fact, I wanted to. I just didn’t know if that was possible just yet.

  I looked at her again, a glimmer of recognition going off.

  “Wait, I know you, don’t I?”

  She looked down, refusing to meet my eye.

  “I busted you last year,” I nodded, the arrest coming back to me. “You were shoplifting at Pioneer Place.”

  She shrugged, “yeah.”

  I nodded and looked back at the guy sitting on the ground. He was staring at her, listening intently to every word she said.

  “Alice, what’s going on with you? Where’s your family?” I asked.

  She shrugged again and I sighed. This was another one of those times when I hated being a cop. Alice obviously needed some sort of wake up call.

  “Is this your boyfriend?” I asked.

  “Yeah, she’s mine,” the guy interjected. I cringed at his words. Ownership never set well with me.

  “Did he force you to come in here?” I whispered. She glanced over at him and he glared at her. She looked back at me with fear in her eyes and shook her head.

  “Alright, turn around,” I said, turning her around and cuffing her.

  “No!” She cried out. “Please don’t arrest us. Seriously. We didn’t harm anything. Just let us go. Come on, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I’m doing this for your own good,” I said under my breath, more to me than to her. The stab of guilt twisted deeper as she began sobbing.

  “Stand up,” I said, grabbing her boyfriend and helping him up. I walked them both out to my car and locked them in the back before calling into the precinct.

  I didn’t realize the girl was pregnant.

  I didn’t realize she’d violated her probation and not attended the mandatory therapy sessions the court had assigned her as a sentence for her last arrest. I had no idea she would get a heartless judge who decided to make an example of her and send her to prison on trumped up charges because they dared to break into the museum.

  I didn’t know any of that would happen.

  I thought some time away from Danny’s influence would free her.

  Instead, I might as well have locked her cell door shut myself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  BULLET

  Libby and I stood wide-eyed, staring down at Slade’s bloody body. An equally bloody and beat-up Zane had carried him down and deposited him on the bed. Mona stood by our side, a huge smile spread across her face.

  Rage began pumping through my veins.

  “What the hell did you do to him?” I shouted, turning to face Zane. He pulled out his gun and waved it around.

  “You want some, too?” he growled. Libby put her hand on my arm, slightly pulling me back. We’d barely had time to get dressed before they’d come down and I could still taste Libby on my lips.

  “He has a fucking family!” I roared, spinning around to Mona. Her smile sickened me.

  “Lucky family,” she said. “He’s a devoted family man, that much is true.”

  I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, pressing it into the wounds I could spot. It wasn’t easy. He was completely covered in blood, scratches and cuts scattered around his skin, his right eye was swollen shut, his nose appeared to be broken, and from what I could see, it was possible his leg was broken as well.

  “He needs a doctor,” I demanded.

  Mona shrugged, “Not gonna happen anytime soon.”

  “Why did you do this?” I asked.

  “I guess you could say he didn’t rise to my expectations,” she chuckled.

  “You’re a fucking monster,” I seethed.

  “I’ve been accused of worse,” she said.

  “He could die,” I warned.

  She burst out laughing and then suddenly stopped, raking her eyes over first Libby, then me.

  “Did you two fuck?” she asked. “You look like you fucked.”

  Libby gasped and looked away and my rage increased.

  “No,” I said, my voice holding back all the anger I wanted to unleash on this woman. She shook her head and laughed again.

  “I don’t believe you,” she replied. She turned on her heel and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Libby and I staring at each other in shock. Zane limped out after her, their footsteps disappearing up the stairs.

  “Bullet, come with me,” Mona called down.

  “What?” I called, looking at Libby with alarm.

  “Come upstairs right now or Zane will come down there and shoot you!”

  “Fuck,” I muttered, stealing another glance over at Slade. He was in bad shape. Very bad shape.

  Would that be my fate, too?

  I squared my shoulders and turned to Libby.

  “I’ll be back,” I said. “Try to take care of him if you can. Clean his wounds. Try to stop the blee
ding.”

  “I’ll do my best,” she nodded, lifting her chin bravely.

  I pulled her into my arms, every cell of my body screaming not to let her go. But I had to. If there was any chance of us getting out of here, it depended on me now.

  Slade was out of the game and it was up to me to protect us and get us out of this mess.

  My head was spinning.

  If anything happened to Slade, I’d have to answer to the Gods.

  I let go of Libby and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Slade, you gotta hold on, brother.” He was totally out, but I could only hope he could hear me. “I’m gonna take care of you. Just be strong and stay alive. I’ll get us out of here, I promise.”

  “Bullet, get up here now!” Mona shouted.

  I ran up the stairs, my heart breaking as I left Libby alone, anger ripping through me.

  I was ready to fight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  GRACE

  Her mother’s house was a charming little Portland four-square in inner Southeast Portland. Ryder and I walked up the steps, looking around for any sign of Slade or Bullet.

  The place was immaculate, the yard perfectly manicured, with two lush, blue hydrangeas on either side of the steps. Nothing looked out of place and everything seemed completely peaceful. A rocking chair and a round turquoise table sat on the porch, an empty coffee cup sitting next to a dog-eared mystery novel on the table.

  I took a deep breath and knocked, grateful to have Ryder standing behind me. My stomach churned and my knees felt weak. The door creaked open and we were greeted with the heavenly smile of a little old lady. She must have been at least seventy-five, if not older.

  “Yes?” she asked, her bright blue eyes shining up at us.

  “Hello, ma’am. My name is Grace. This is Ryder. I’m looking for your daughter, Mona…I mean, Alice.”

  “Is that so?” she asked, opening the door wider. “Won’t you come in?”

  “Thank you,” I nodded, and we stepped inside. She closed the door behind us and gestured to a teal broZane couch in the living room.

  “Would you like some coffee? Tea?” she offered. We sat down and shook our heads.

  “No, thank you,” I replied. “Is Alice here?”

  “Oh, goodness, no,” she said. “She hasn’t been here in a long time. She’s not the best at staying in touch.”

  “Do you know how to reach her?”

  “Just by her cell phone,” she replied. We’d been calling that for days and the phone had never been answered. “Did you check her apartment downtown? Is everything okay? Who are you again?” She squinted, looking at me suspiciously.

  “Grace, ma’am,” I replied. “We’ve actually met before. It was a very long time ago.”

  “You’re that cop, aren’t you?”

  “I used to be a cop, yes, ma’am, but I’m not anymore.”

  “What do you want with Mona? If she heard us calling her Alice, she’d kill us.”

  “We just want to ask her a few questions. She’s not in any trouble.”

  “Well, I can’t imagine she’d ever want to talk to you. She hated you fiercely back then and who can blame her really?”

  “I understand, ma’am,” I said. “I’ve lived with a lot of regret about the way everything worked out with her.”

  “Well, Mona turned out great, Grace,” she said, offering me a reassuring smile. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over that. You were just doing your job, right?”

  “I’m glad to hear she’s doing well now. Is there anywhere else she might go? Does she have relatives or close friends she might stay with?”

  “Well, no. I suppose she could be staying at her grandma’s house. Mona inherited it when my mother died. I didn’t want to move there, I love my house. So, she left it to Mona.”

  “It’s very lovely,” I nodded. “Where is this other house?”

  “It’s in Lake Oswego,” she said. “It’s very nice. I can get you the address.”

  “That would be fantastic, thank you,” I said, standing up as she walked out of the room. I looked over at Ryder and smiled. This just might be the lead we needed.

  She returned and handed me a slip of paper.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, handing her my card in return. “And if you hear from Mona, please have her call me.”

  “Will do,” she said, walking us to the door with a matronly smile. “Y’all have a nice day, now, y’hear?”

  We walked out into the sunshine and I handed Ryder the slip of paper.

  “Should we go now?”

  “Not without backup,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I gotta bad feeling about this.”

  “Me, too, babe,” I said. “Me, too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  MONA

  Bullet seemed like a nice guy. But it was obvious he was young, and having a very hard time controlling his emotions. He looked like he wanted to strangle me and ask me a million questions all at once. He was obviously distraught over Slade’s condition and I could see his wheels turning, his eyes darting around looking for the exits or any other way of escaping.

  He wasn’t going anywhere with Zane’s gun stabbing him in the back.

  “Move!” Zane ordered, shoving him down the hallway. We reached my bedroom and I turned to face them. Bullet looked confused and I beckoned him in.

  “Stay close,” I said to Zane, before closing the door. The poor guy looked like he’d been in a fight with a wildcat. Slade had been a formidable opponent, fighting tooth and nail until the bitter end. Bullet was right — he might die. But at least it will be an honorable death. It was so much better to die fighting than to give in like a whimpering kitten.

  I stepped in front of Bullet and looked him up and down. His long blonde locks were tousled around his handsome face, his grey eyes dark with anger.

  “So, are you going to beat me up like you did Slade?”

  I raised a brow, and smiled. “That depends. Are you going to do as I say?”

  “I guess that depends, too,” he replied, defiantly.

  I sat on the bed in front of him, looking up at him.

  “Calm down,” I said. “What’s your story, Bullet?”

  “I don’t have a story.”

  “Everyone has a story, darling,” I said. “Don’t be a bore. Tell me how you got here.”

  “You fucking drugged us, you crazy bitch,” he replied.

  “Now, now, don’t be rude,” I said.

  “Rude?” he scoffed. “How about you tell me your story, Mona? Why are you doing this to us?”

  “You want me to repeat myself? I told you already, I’m creating my own society and I’m actively recruiting members. It’s quite simple.”

  “It’s ridiculous,” he shook his head. “Obviously, Libby doesn’t want to be involved anymore than we do, so how about you just let us go.”

  “No.”

  “No?” he asked. “That’s it?”

  “What more do you want?” I asked. “I have needs. You can fill them. Besides, it looks like you’ve gotten a head start on my mission anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw you with Eve,” I said, gesturing to the computer monitors in the corner. “I saw everything.”

  He looked down in surprise.

  “You forgot about the cameras, didn’t you?” I laughed. “It was hot, don’t worry. Definitely camera worthy. So sorry to interrupt. It was rude of me, wasn’t it?”

  I stood up, running my hand over his huge bicep and walking around behind him, my fingers trailing over the back of his broad shoulders. I smiled as I saw goosebumps pop up on his forearms.

  Maybe I’ll have more success with this one, I thought.

  “So, Bullet, you like Eve?”

  “She’s a nice girl; she doesn’t deserve all this,” he barked.

  “Right,” I nodded, continuing to walk around him slowly, my finger never leaving his body, trailing around his chest and sho
ulders and his back and back to the front again. “I saw the way you kissed her.”

  He stood silent, stoic, not daring to meet my eyes.

  “You see, Bullet, before I let things go any farther between the two of you, I need to make sure you’re worthy.

  “And how do you do that?”

  “By taking a test drive, of course,” I whispered.

  “What? No, way,” he balked, taking a step away from me. I smiled, moving closer, brushing my lips against his ear.

  “Don’t forget, Bullet,” I whispered. “Zane is just outside, ready to shoot you at my command. Don’t be so hostile.”

  I reached down, grabbing a handful of his balls over his jeans and squeezing lightly.

  He didn’t flinch.

  “Impressive,” I whispered.

  “I’m not fucking you,” he said.

  “Do all the guys in your club take a vow of celibacy or something? What is with you assholes?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind,” I replied, releasing my grip on his balls, and sitting back on the bed. “Strip.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Shall I call Zane and show you how serious I am?” I replied.

  He shook his head and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his bare chest. A ragged, angry scar tore through the middle of his sternum.

  “That’s some scar,” I said. He stood silently watching me, wearing his tattoos and scars like armor. “Take off the jeans, too.”

  “Goddammit,” he muttered, reaching down to unbutton them and push them off, after stepping out of his boots. He stood back up, his wide, muscular thighs disappearing into a pair of black briefs.

  “Slade was a boxer guy,” I said. He squinted, shaking his head.

  “What are you trying to accomplish here?”

  “I want to see your cock,” I said, pointing to his underwear. “Take those off, too.”

  “Christ,” he shook his head, pushing them down and standing back up, naked and hot as hell. My stomach flipped as I raked my eyes over him. I bit my lip, anticipating how he’d feel inside of me. His cock wasn’t hard, but the length of it hanging between his thighs told me it would be massive when it was.