In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5)

by Melynda Price

  “I didn’t sneak.” She snuck. “I have to get to work.” Pen headed for the cupboard and grabbed a to-go mug, untwisting the cap. She could feel Kyle’s eyes on her. Everywhere they touched was like a caress. Her blood heated and that peculiar flutter in her stomach returned.

  “Pen, we need to talk about last night.”

  No, they didn’t. As far as she was concerned, there wasn’t anything to say. She grabbed the carafe from the hot plate and began filling her mug.

  “I think we need to—”

  “I’m sorry. I really can’t do this right now.” She cut him off, worried he was going to tell her last night was a mistake, that he was afraid they were getting too close. Kyle was the first man who’d ever wanted to just be with her, and not expect sex. He hadn’t wanted anything from her other than her presence, and she underestimated the emotional impact that would have on her heart. In fact, she was still processing all those thoughts and jumbled emotions. “I’m going to be late for work.”

  His brows tightened with frustration and that little muscle in his jaw ticked. It was obvious he didn’t appreciate her interrupting him—or putting him off—but he could hardly argue. She had to get to work.

  Pen capped her coffee mug, grabbed her cell off the counter and turned to leave. She could feel his eyes tracking her, only the burn at her back felt a lot less desirous and a lot more like frustration. Stopping at the door, she hesitated. “Let’s just agree that what happened last night was a mistake and not talk about it.”

  He didn’t respond as she stepped into the garage, pulling the door closed behind her.

  One step forward, two steps back.

  Why did everything have to be so difficult with this woman? He shouldn’t have been surprised she’d called last night a mistake, but that wasn’t what he’d wanted to talk to her about. He shouldn’t have caved so easily to her insistence that they stay here instead of his place. He’d been about to tell her that before she’d hijacked his conversation.

  He was concerned about the escalation of the messages, and it unsettled him that whoever was doing this knew where she lived. Pen wasn’t safe here. He’d planned to try to convince her to stay with him at his place. The mistake he’d made was erroneously assuming she would be malleable. He thought she was warming up to him, letting her guard down. Yeah, clearly that wasn’t happening. For not the first time, he asked himself why he bothered. Why he cared so damn much.

  Because you value the things in life you have to fight for.

  If that was the case, then this woman was as precious as the Hope fucking Diamond.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Any change?”

  Regan lifted his head, eyeing Kyle from across the room. The guy was in the same position Kyle had left him in yesterday, sitting vigil at the side of Willow’s bed, her little hand tucked in both of his. Regan didn’t appear to have moved in the last twelve hours—or slept. He looked like shit.

  “No change,” he answered as Kyle took the empty seat across from him. On his way to planting his ass in the chair, he brushed his lips over her forehead then took Willow’s other hand as he settled in. Her bruises were more prominent today, set off against her ghostly pale skin. His heart clenched in his chest, the ache so intense it nearly took his breath away to see her lying there looking so battered and broken.

  “You want to go home, get some rest and a shower? I’ll be here a while. I have some paperwork I need to fill out at the courthouse before they’ll let me speak at Campoli’s parole hearing tomorrow, but that’s not until this afternoon.”

  Regan shook his head, declining the offer. “That’s all right. I’m not leaving her. I have to be here when she wakes up.”

  Kyle didn’t argue with that logic. It wouldn’t do any good and he understood Regan wanting to be here 24-7. He felt the same way. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have left her bedside at all. But seeing Regan like this—the uncompromising love and devotion he had for Willow—Kyle knew that her bedside vigil was no longer his place.

  As hard as it was, he needed to step aside and let go. This was where Regan belonged. He could see that. Didn’t mean he had to like it, but he could accept it. It was just the way things were. It didn’t erase Regan’s betrayal, but that was something between him and his friend on a personal level that had nothing to do with her.

  But this…Regan’s love for Willow? That, Kyle could respect. Which was why, as hard as it was to stay away, he’d given them space. He would be here as much as Regan or Willow needed him, but the reality was Pen needed him more—whether she wanted to admit it or not. Willow was safe, she was in good hands, and Kyle had to believe she was going to recover. The alternative was just too unthinkable.

  “Everything set for the appeal, then?”

  “It will be after I file the papers.”

  It was uncomfortable…this distance and polite formality between them. Kyle missed his best friend, but he honestly didn’t know how to get back to where they’d been. Maybe they never would. Which was a shame, because he sure could have used someone to talk to about Pen. The woman had him in knots. Half the time, he didn’t know if he was coming or going. And who knows, maybe that was normal when you were falling for someone. He wouldn’t have a clue. He’d never been in love before.

  Wait…who said anything about love?

  Where the hell had that come from? He was not in love with Penelope Cantrel. Hell, that would be like falling in love with a honey badger. Sure, they might look cute and cuddly from a distance, but if you got too close, you’d get bitten. Who in their right mind would sign up for that shit?

  “You all right?” Regan asked. Because, yeah…this guy knew him better than anyone and could probably see his mental freak out.

  “No,” Kyle answered honestly, because what was the point in lying? “You?”

  “Not even close.”

  Kyle grunted in agreement. “I’d say that’s about the sum of it.”

  “What do you mean she’s gone? We have an appointment this afternoon.”

  Pen closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and prayed for patience. It was difficult to think with Bob’s dogs yapping in the background. Funny, she never figured him for an animal lover. Bob must have closed the door or gone outside, because the chaos grew muffled. “I know you do. That’s why I’m calling, Mr. Pratt. Dr. Summers is no longer with us—”

  “Well, where is she? What happened?”

  “I cannot say. All I can do is offer you an appointment with Dr. Hendricks tomorrow. He’s returning a few days early from his sabbatical. I have a 2:15 open if you’re interested.”

  “Can you tell me where she went? I would prefer to see her.”

  I’m sure you would. “She’s in New York.” And that was as specific as Pen was going to get with the guy. But maybe if he realized Vi was gone and she wasn’t coming back, he’d go somewhere else to get his therapy. Not many people spooked Pen, but here was just this look in his eyes that always gave Pen the impression he was barely holding onto his sanity.

  “I’ll take the appointment,” he grudgingly agreed.

  “Then we’ll see you tomorrow.” She disconnected the call before he had a chance to say anything else. Pen spent the next hour making patient calls. After all the appointments were either canceled or rescheduled, Pen worked on packing up Vi’s office. It was early afternoon by the time she realized she hadn’t eaten, and decided to close the office early and take the rest of the day off.

  As she contemplated how to spend the afternoon, thoughts of Kyle quickly came to mind, and her libido enthusiastically created a to-do list. She admonished her slutty side, but was unable to deny that, mistake or not, there was something brewing between her and Kyle. She wasn’t sure how much longer she had the willpower to ignore it. And she knew he felt it too. That kiss in the club, and their short make-out session just before Animal Control arrived, proved that much.

  Pen hadn’t been able to get Kyle off her mind all day. She felt bad about the
way she’d left things with him. She could have handled that better by at least letting him explain himself before jumping on the defensive. Upon reflection, he’d seemed disappointed to discover she was not in his bed when he’d woken. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but the mixture of emotions confused her.

  She texted him earlier to check on Willow, but his response had been a short, No Change. Pen wasn’t sure if his curt reply was residual anger from that morning, or the stress and anxiety of having Willow in the hospital. Maybe it was both.

  Should she call Kyle and offer to come over to the hospital and have lunch with him? That seemed like something a nice “girlfriend” would do, and they did need to keep up pretenses. The idea of being with him in public was almost a relief. At least there she didn’t have to second guess her actions, or analyze Kyle’s. It felt easier than dancing around whatever this was between them, because this whole fake boyfriend routine was messing with her head. It was giving her a glimpse of what her life could be like. If only...

  Exhaling a regretful sigh, she shut her computer down and noticed the red flashing light on the printer. Grabbing her cell, she shot him a quick message on her way to the storage closet for some paper.

  Have you eaten yet today? I’m done early. I could come by with lunch.

  Tucking her cell into the waistband of her skirt, she stepped into the closet at the end of the hall and headed toward the back shelf. Standing on tiptoes, she was reaching for a ream on the top shelf when the door behind her slammed closed, blanketing her in darkness.

  Pen startled. Her frightened yelp echoed off the walls closing in on her. Blinded, the memories returned with crystal clarity, and in an instant, she was thirteen years old again. Her knees buckled at the instinct to take cover—to hide—as she shrunk back in the darkness, praying it would cloak her. But to him it became a game of hide and seek. And he always found her.

  The corner of the closet seemed to have its own gravitational pull and Pen’s hand shot out to steady herself as the ground shifted beneath her. Grasping the shelving, she felt her way toward the door, desperate to get out. She cursed herself for being too preoccupied to flip the light switch before entering, but the open door had let enough ambient light in. How had the door shut? No one else was here.

  Fighting back the memories and the rise of bile burning her throat, she swore she could feel that phantom grip of his fingers wrapping around her ankle, preparing to yank her out from beneath her bed, or drag her from her closet.

  You can’t hide from me, Penelope… The raspy phantom voice growled next to her ear. She could still smell the peaty-sweet stench of cigar smoke and the sour tang of whiskey on his breath. She retched, her hand desperately running over the door, searching for the handle. Relief swept over her when her fingers wrapped around the knob. She turned it. It didn’t budge. God help her, she was locked in—trapped inside the closet with her memories.

  Pen began to panic in earnest. It wasn’t until her cell vibrated against her hip that she remembered she had it with her, and relief washed over her. With shaking hands, she grabbed it from her skirt.

  At the courthouse. I’ll call when I’m done here.

  Pen wasn’t sure why he was there, but she didn’t think she could wait that long. Pressing Kyle’s contact, she lifted the cell to her ear and waited for the call to connect. As it rang, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice.

  “Hello?”

  At the sound of his voice, relief flooded through her and she almost broke down crying. “Kyle?”

  “Pen? What’s wrong?”

  “I, umm… I’m at work and the door closed behind me. I’m locked in the closet.”

  “How the hell did that happen?” Then to someone else he said, “Is this all you need? I have to go.”

  His footsteps echoed across the line.

  “I don’t know. And you’re not supposed to be running, Kyle.” It was crazy, the stupid shit people said when they were scared. The inconsequential things their minds chose to focus on for self-preservation. And hers was the step-clomp combo of Kyle running down the hall.

  “Yeah, well you’re not supposed to be locked in a closet, so I guess we’re even. Are you alone? Are you okay?”

  “I…think I’m alone. I was the only one here. But then the door slammed shut and when I tried to open it, it was locked.”

  “Baby, you need to hang up with me and call the police. I’m on my way, but I’m still a few miles away.”

  “I don’t want to call the police and tell them I’m locked in the closet, Kyle. It’s stupid and embarrassing.”

  “Not if someone’s there who did it! If you don’t want to call the police, I will.”

  “No! Don’t hang up!” Panic forced a broken sob from her throat at the thought of losing her connection with him. Here in the dark, he’d become her lifeline. “Kyle, I’m scared. I… I have issues with small dark spaces.” It was the first time she’d ever told anyone that.

  He muttered a curse under his breath that sounded a lot like “Fuck me.”

  “Just talk to me, okay?” she pleaded. “As long as we’re on the phone together you know I’m fine.”

  A car door slammed and she could hear the roar of the engine as he fired up his Charger. Tires squealed, protesting the abuse of his foot against the accelerator as the engine revved through the RPMs.

  “All right. How about you tell me why you’re scared of the dark. I noticed you have a nightlight beside your bed.”

  “I’d rather talk about why you took me to your bed last night and didn’t try to have sex with me.” It wasn’t how she’d planned to bring this conversation up. Guess her improv sucked after all.

  “Because it’s against the rules.”

  “And if it wouldn’t have been?” she challenged, suspecting it was a copout answer. Kyle didn’t exactly strike her as a rule follower.

  “I still wouldn’t have fucked you.”

  Ouch. Well, that stung.

  “What I would have done to you… It would have been so much more than fucking.”

  Okay, wow. Her pulse quickened, but it wasn’t fear driving the tempo. This was exactly what she needed—a distraction—and Kyle was doing a fantastic job of it.

  “Your turn. Now tell me why you’re scared of the dark.”

  “Because…” the words slipped out in the quietest whisper, “he always found me.”

  She heard the soft click of a door down the hall, and then footsteps. Adrenaline flooded her veins, hammering inside her chest as they grew closer and then stopped. Her gaze dropped to the strip of light shining beneath the gap at the bottom of the door. Shadows blotted out the stretch of light and panic seized her. “Kyle…someone’s here! He’s standing outside the door!”

  He snarled a foul curse. “I’m calling the police. Hang on, baby. I’m almost there.”

  She couldn’t have protested if she’d wanted to. Her lungs were frozen. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, air refusing to move as her heart hammered a chaotic rhythm inside her chest. This was it. Her monster had found her once again…

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kyle hung up with the police just as he was tearing into the parking lot. He’d hated to disconnect Pen’s call when she was so terrified, and the thought of not being there for her gutted him, but the police needed to be involved, if for nothing else than to keep him from getting arrested when he got his hands on this bastard. He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

  The tires squealed as he slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the car. He raced up to the office and yanked on the door, finding it locked.

  “Pen!” The glass rattled as he pounded his fist against the door. He could hear sirens going off in the distance but couldn’t wait. Pen needed him now. Surveying the thickness of the glass, Kyle tore off his shirt and wrapped it around his hand. Acting on nothing but adrenaline and muscle memory, he punched his fist through the glass. Shards cut into his arm but he felt no pain as the sharp edges lacerated
his flesh. Reaching inside, he flipped the lock and pulled the door open. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet as he raced inside.

  The reception area and waiting room were empty. Two name-plated doors were on the left and a long hallway on the right. “Pen!” There was no sign of anyone. What if that bastard had already taken her? What if he was too late? “Pen!” he yelled for her again and raced down the hall.

  “In here!”

  He heard her muffled cry, and then pounding on the door. Kyle followed the banging to the last room on the left, a stone’s throw from the emergency exit. When he flipped the lock and wrenched the door open, she came stumbling out into his arms.

  “Kyle!” she cried, tears streaming down her panic-stricken face.

  He hugged her tight as she collapsed against him, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. “Shh…” he soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He’d never seen her so terrified. The Pen he knew was stoic as hell and tough as nails. It rattled him to see her so shaken. “You’re all right. I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  But was it? Kyle knew this bastard was escalating. Hadn’t he told her it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened? This was beyond some misguided infatuation. Locking her in a closet... What if she wouldn’t have had her cell to call for help? She’d have been gone. Just the thought of how different this could have ended struck him cold with fear.

  “He was here, Kyle! I saw his feet beneath the door!”

  “Did you see his face?”

  She shook her head. “He tried to open the door, but I held onto the handle. Then something broke in the lobby and I heard him run off.”

  Sirens wailed outside and then abruptly cut out. A moment later, voices shouted down the hall. “This is the Las Vegas Police! We got a call about an intruder.”

  “I called. I think whoever was here ran out the back exit.” Kyle nodded toward the neon sign behind them.