Caged

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Caged Page 3

by J. A. Belfield


  “I’ll fix you a drink,” Shelley said.

  I climbed from my position on the floor and followed her into the kitchen.

  As though unaware of my pursuit, she paused in front of the window. Her hands rubbed across her face before they found support on the countertop, and a long, slow breath exhaled past her lips.

  “We’ll get him back, Shel,” I said.

  She turned and met my eyes with her almond-shaped greens. “I trust you to find him.”

  I nodded—could think of no other way to respond to someone who had more faith in me than I held in myself.

  “Why don’t you grab some glasses?”

  I moved across to the cupboard, my hip brushing against Shelley’s and nudging her. “Sorry,” I mumbled, reaching out a hand to steady her.

  “It’s okay,” she said as she continued past to the fridge.

  The glasses had been kept in the same cupboard for months, so I knew where to find them. They clinked together as I picked up two, the fridge closing with a whoosh and a thunk behind me.

  “Will Mia want one?” I turned to find Shelley with the bottle balanced between her denim-clad thighs whilst she twisted the corkscrew into the top. “Why don’t you let me do that?”

  “I can manage.” Her tone held a brimful of determination, yet her grunt negated the words. A few more twists of her wrist penetrated the cork further. “I’m not as weak as you all think, you know.”

  “I don’t think you’re weak.”

  Her gaze lifted as she fought with the bottle and the opener. “No?”

  “No. Just …” I smiled. “… feeble.”

  She glowered for a second before she straightened and waved the offending item at me. “Fine. You do it, then.”

  I swapped the glasses for the bottle, grabbed the corkscrew handle and tugged. The stopper slid out with a gaseous plop, and the richness of red wine scented the kitchen.

  Shelley held out the glasses.

  I poured a generous glug into each, set the bottle down on the countertop, and turned back to tap my drink against Shelley’s. “Here’s to …”

  What the hell did we have to drink to? The woman’s son had gone missing, for goodness sake.

  “Getting Gabe back,” she said.

  I tipped my face down to her as she gazed up at me, and forced my head to nod whilst attempting to keep my worry at bay.

  Fire sparked a glower into her eyes, and her free hand fisted as she leaned toward me. “You can take that look out your eye, Ethan.”

  I stared at her. “What—”

  “You can take it out right now.”

  My brow knitted. “What—”

  “That damn look of defeat.” She poked me hard in the chest. Wine slopped over the rim of her glass, splashing at my feet.

  I skimmed my drink across the counter and grabbed for her hand. “I’m not—”

  “You don’t give up.” Her fist reformed, and she thumped it against my shoulder as I tried to pry her glass from the vice-grip of her other hand.

  A low growl escaped as I freed the drink and set it down. “I haven—” I turned back to a double slam against my chest.

  “It’s not your style.”

  My jaw clenched. “I haven’t given up …”

  “Don’t you let me down, Ethan.”

  I snatched for her arms as she lunged toward my face, ducking with a snarl when I missed. My hands tightened—more against the verbal than physical assault.

  “Don’t you dare let my Gabe down!”

  “I’ve barely even started!” I snapped as my fingers circled her wrists coming at me. “Dammit, Shelley, give me a chance, will you?”

  We stared at each other, chests heaving. With a sob, she jerked away from me, fisted her hands into her fringe and dragged them over her face.

  Emotion effected Shelley’s eyes with a high shine, her cheeks with a deep blush that glowed beneath her hair. She averted her eyes, seemed to seek self-control with long, deep breaths.

  The blood passing through my carotid artery slowed its surge as I waited for her to turn back to me, fully regulating itself only once she had.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you.” Her fingers folded over my forearm before she whipped her hand away and wrung her other. “I’m taking this out on the wrong person.”

  Before I could stop myself, I reached out to sweep her mussed hair back from her face. “Who else would you take it out on?”

  I went to pull back, but her hand covered mine, holding it against her face. With a shallow sigh, she pushed onto tiptoe, placed her lips to my cheek. “Thank you.”

  I expected her to move away, but her breaths continued to warm my skin. As her fingers wove into my hair, a slight twist of my head showed me her eyes with half-lowered lashes. “Shel?” My voice came out deeper than intended.

  “Just …” Her breath shuddered out, and the tremor of her body hit my chest. “Just hold me, okay?”

  I slid my arms around her back, lifting her when I realised it would be easier than stooping. She didn’t protest as I pulled her close against my body, nor did she seem to mind when my nose nestled into her neck to inhale her sweet scent.

  Her fingers within my hair twisted a little, and her face came to rest mere inches from my throat. I closed my eyes as her breaths drifted over me, as her other hand folded around a scrap of my clothing, and held her even tighter when a damp patch began to expand across the fabric of my shirt.

  “I’ll find him, Shel,” I murmured into her ear. “I promise I won’t stop searching until I have.”

  Her face shifted, and I pulled back. As our gazes met, my heart damn near stuttered its rhythm.

  Teardrops decorated the cheeks of her elfin features like diamonds, redacting the light beneath the glistening emeralds that stared back at me.

  They all merged into one rainbow of beauty as I ducked nearer.

  Shelley didn’t flinch from my clumsy head thrust, or from the tentative sweep of my lips across hers. Instead, her face tilted, our noses brushed, and her lips parted as they pressed against mine.

  A rumble brewed deep within me as the sudden tightening of my jeans announced an arousal I hadn’t expected. With a dart of my tongue, I tasted the faint spiciness of the meal we’d shared. As her left leg lifted, my hand swept down, hooked beneath her thigh, and my step back brought me into contact with the counter.

  Her fingers grasped onto my shirt, hauled it taut across my shoulder. One quiet sigh followed another as her tongue met with mine.

  I spun, nudged her rear onto the breakfast bar, and slipped between her knees. My fingers grabbed her hips, tugged her forward against my erection, and at her gasp, I gave a low growl.

  The fingers within my hair entwined with the strands. A small yank encouraged me to keep going. Another tongue dart, another sample, and the thrum vibrated throughout my entire body, shivering along my spine. My pelvis pushed forward, my lips devouring the delicious fullness of hers, until the urge to clamber up on the work surface and bring forth even more of her erotic scent overwhelmed me.

  A click arrived from the living room, followed by the sweep of the door across carpet, and Shelley shot back from me like I’d zapped her with a thousand volts.

  Her chest rose and fell as her hands flew out. She stared at me for a second, her wide-eyed expression one of total shock, before the scramble of her legs sent her sprawling past me to the floor. Her cheeks held high colour as her head whipped up to Mia in the doorway.

  I kept my groan silent, rubbing my face.

  “I, um …”

  My hand dropped at Mia’s stutter. I found her staring my way, whilst Shelley fussed with her blouse.

  Mia thumbed over her shoulder. “I only came down to tell you I’m going to bed.”

 
“Me, too,” Shelley mumbled, and she ducked past Mia into the living room.

  As I frowned after Shelley, the young teenager followed her passage before she whirled back with narrowed eyes.

  I thought about explaining myself, even went as far as opening my mouth.

  “G’night, Ethan,” she said through compressed lips. With a final look that could only be interpreted as a warning, she spun and shot off up the stairs after Shelley.

  Alone, I let my groan free and slipped a hand into my boxers to adjust my bulging discomfort. As my fingers wrapped around my stiffness, the temptation to relieve my frustration crossed my mind for a split-second, until a head shake cleared my thoughts.

  I held out my waistband, peered into the depths of my underwear as I tucked ‘him’ to bed. “Settle back down, buddy.” I blew out a breath, rolling my shoulders. “Not meant to be.”

  5

  White stippled paint greeted me upon waking, just as it had bid farewell before sleep. The arm hooked beneath my head had folded at a funny angle against the sofa back, the tendons running down from my shoulder pulled taut to snapping point.

  I tugged it out, stretched my fingers toward the ceiling, withdrawing my other hand from beneath my waistband. Massaging life back into my deadened limb, I swung my legs around to sit.

  Gurgles drifted through from the kitchen, followed by a quiet click. I turned toward the sounds and inhaled, catching the scents’ of the two females. Even though the pouring of liquid and the comforting aroma suggested coffee could be on offer, I hesitated over joining them.

  For hours, I’d replayed my stupid actions and chastised myself for making the move on a distraught woman. She wouldn’t understand I hadn’t intended to take advantage, that I really did like her. I’d seen the look of horror on her face once she’d come to her senses, but I’d also been witness to her response when I’d kissed her.

  Females—the damn species mystified me.

  I rubbed my hands across my face like they’d somehow remove all traces of my discomfort and fatigue. With a deep breath, I pushed up from the sofa and padded into the next room.

  Mia stirred the contents of one of two mugs in front of her. Dressed in nothing more than socks and a huge sweater I’d seen Gabe in a few times, she peered across toward me. “Coffee?”

  “Thanks.” Leaning against the doorframe, I turned to Shelley at the breakfast bar, pushing aside the memory of what I’d imagined doing to her on there. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” The greeting arrived weak. Her gaze flickered away, before returning to me as she cleared her throat. “Sleep okay?”

  I slid my hands into my pockets and crossed my ankles. “Sure.”

  She stared hard at me, like she could see right through the lie. The dark smudges beneath her eyes suggested I’d not been the only one still awake in the early hours.

  “You?” I asked.

  Mia turned to Shelley and passed her drink, before tossing a curious glance my way.

  Shelley looked about to shrug, but instead, she eyed the brown liquid beneath her nose. “Sure,” she murmured.

  “You want sugar?” Mia asked me.

  I nodded. “Two.”

  “One it is, then.” She winked, seemingly amused by herself as she spooned in the white granules and stirred. “So,”—she crossed the room to me—“what plans do you have today?”

  I took the coffee from her with a nod and sampled it. “I’m waiting on Dad. But my guess is, we’ll expand the search and head back out to look again.”

  “Can I come?” Mia asked.

  I studied her a moment and shook my head.

  “Why not?” she asked, as I took another sip of my drink.

  “Because …” Struggling to come up with grounds that didn’t sound as sexist as the truth, I raised and lowered a shoulder. “Just … because.” I ducked back into the living room to avoid the conversation that would surely follow.

  The sofa groaned beneath my weight as I sat. In the kitchen, Mia mumbled to Shelley about her interpretations of my excuse for telling her no. Although Shelley placated that I probably didn’t mean it that way, Mia had it spot-on.

  Elbows resting on knees, mug between my laced fingers, I stared at my mobile. Maybe if I did it for long enough, Dad would pick up the vibes and ring to get me out of there.

  When the buzzing rippled it across the table, I almost spilled my drink.

  I snatched up the phone as I stood, hit connect and placed it to my ear in one fluid movement. “Dad?”

  “You ready?”

  I marched into the kitchen. “Are you here?” Straight across to the sink, I set my half-full mug down on the counter.

  “Yes—just pulling up.”

  “I’m on my way.” I spun as I disconnected and found two sets of eyes on me. “Dad’s here.” My long legs carried me to the doorway in four strides; another sent me through it.

  “Ethan?”

  I halted and looked back at Shelley as she took a step toward me. Her mouth opened but closed again.

  “I’ll call you if we find anything,” I said. “Okay?”

  Although the tightening of her eyebrows suggested creases hid beneath her fringe, she nodded.

  I sent her a head bob of my own, returned to my route, and bolted out the front door.

  The morning smelled fresh compared to the scent of humiliation that had stifled the house. Nostrils flaring to accommodate the deepness of my inhalation, I jogged along the short path and rounded the truck as though about to embark on a high-speed chase.

  “Where’s the fire?” Dad asked as I leapt in beside him.

  “Didn’t want to keep you all waiting.” I peered into the back, noticing for the first time the others’ absence. “Where’s—”

  “Working out a better grid.” He pulled off from the kerb. “We’ll continue the search, and meet with Connor and Kyle before lunch. Need to remember to eat today.”

  Leaving it so long the day before had left me weakened—something we needed to avoid at all costs. “Where are we headed?”

  “I’ve had a change of direction in my thoughts.”

  He took a corner, and I waited until he’d picked speed back up to ask, “Which is?”

  “What are the chances of them still being this close to the last ones they took?” He glanced at me.

  I thought about his question a moment. “More than what are the chances, what would be the point?”

  “Exactly.” He nodded. “They’ve taken one from this area. The odds of finding another here, when Gabe isn’t part of a pack, are pretty much zero. If they’ve done enough research to know where to go in the first place, they’ll know how many are where.”

  “You’ve thought this through.” More than I’d done. Only topic on my mind had been Shelley. “So we’re combing which area?”

  “I rang Jack for suggestions. He believes witches are the source of the females that have gone missing.” He flicked on his indicator for the turn off the island we rounded. “So, we’re going north … to Witchurch.”

  My eyebrow lifted. “Jess lives in Witchurch.” I’d had a brief moment with Jem’s older sister at the beginning of the year.

  Dad nodded. “She’s also a witch.”

  “You’re telling me we’re going to Jess’s?” I hadn’t seen her since I’d knocked back her amorous advances.

  “We owe her a warning, Son.” He stopped at a red light and turned to me. “Or would you like to tell Jem your pride got in the way of giving her sister a heads up?”

  Staring back at him, I thought about suggesting he go on his own. Instead, I shook my head. “No, I don’t.” She’d played a big part in helping the pack over the previous New Year. “We do owe her.”

  Heading from one awkward female moment to another hadn’t
been how I’d envisioned my day.

  Just great.

  • • •

  Smugness coated Jess’s lips as a sparkle invaded her eyes. Her confident strides carried her across the floor of the local job centre where she worked. Each step matched the swing of hips I’d once wanted to feel beneath my palms.

  Three times I’d made excuses to the pack and ducked off to meet with Jess late last winter, but we never went much farther than first base. Of course, it’d bugged the crap out of her because I’d been the one to stall it every damn time. Though, if I’d clicked to the reason why sooner, we wouldn’t have done that much. Because Jess’s base scent matched Jem’s, a sisterly vibe—which made the appeal seem off on a whole level of incestual-don’t-go-there.

  “Well, well, well.” Jess came to a wide-legged standstill with one hip jutted out and her hands at her waist—not unlike the females in one of my magazines. “What brings Ethan Holloway to my doorstep?”

  “Nice to see you, too, Jess.” I spotted the interest from her work colleagues in my periphery. “I need to speak to you.”

  “Sorry, but I’ve moved on already.”

  “This is important … I wouldn’t …”

  “Be here otherwise?” The twinkle faded from the hazel of her eyes, and I knew the business-not-pleasure aspect of my visit had sunk in. “What’s happened?”

  “Any chance you can take a break?”

  A few seconds of visual penetration preceded her nod. “Let me square it with my boss. Meet me outside.”

  She walked away in her tight skirt and heels, brown hair bouncing with each step.

  Did she really hold a grudge over my deflection?

  As she rounded the corner, I snapped my attention away, catching four females, all seated at desks—all of whom smiled my way.

  With a rough hand-brush of my hair, I spun and made my second escape of the day.

  Clouds had nudged across to block the blinding sun and left the car park’s surface a dark shade of grey.

  Dad’s face greeted me through the windscreen. At my nod, he climbed from the truck and shut the door. “Did you see her?”

 

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