Caged

by J. A. Belfield

  Shit! “He’s alive.”

  Her body went limp in my arms, as though weighed down by relief and the exhaustion of fighting. “Why isn’t he here, then?” Even as a whisper, her tone held a deep demand to know.

  “The family doc’s going to check him over. He got … injured.”

  “How bad is he?” Still, she whispered.

  “I don’t know. Not until the doc’s looked at him.” Certain she’d stopped her attacks, I slid my hands back down to her hips. I had every intention of telling her the full story—as soon as I had her in the truck and us on our way. “He’s walking, and he still has his strength …” and then some. “He’s a fighter …” stronger than me, with whatever the hell they’ve done to him. “He’ll be …” I couldn’t bring myself to voice what could be a lie—couldn’t force myself, even, to tell her Gabe would be fine.

  She sighed, and her eyes cleared a little, skimming over me as though seeing me properly for the first time since I’d shown up. “You’re hurt.” She trailed fingers over the slashes across my shoulder. “What happened to you?”

  “Will you come with me, Shel? Come back to mine, see Gabe for yourself, and I promise I’ll tell you everything I know on the way.”

  She gave a nod, the action a little jerky. “You’re going to have to put me down first.”

  “Just don’t hit me again, okay?”

  Her fingers slid around to my nape, and with a gentle tug, she drew me closer. Her eyes continued to glisten when her soft lips pressed against mine, and it took every ounce of will power I had not to race up the stairs with Shelley and show her exactly how much I’d missed her.

  In no way rushed or urgent, the kiss ended with as much tenderness as it started. Her breaths warmed my face as she continued to gaze at me. “Thank you.”

  Rather than ask her ‘for what?’, I set her down, tucking strands that had fallen forward during her outburst behind her ear. “Get some bits together, okay?” As she ducked around the corner to the stairs, I turned away, rubbing hard at my face as I blew out a breath of relief. When I peered out the front door to check for witnesses to our altercation, I found Dad staring my way through the open window of the pickup. “She’s coming,” I told him.

  His lips curved up into the faintest of smiles. “Of course she is.”

  • • •

  From disbelief, to denial, to distraught shuddering sobs, Shelley’s emotions had filled the cab almost to the point of suffocation.

  “How dare they?” Her fists thumped against the seat either side of her legs. “How bloody dare they?” Her gaze darted from me beside her, to Dad in the rear view mirror, and back to me. “Who are these people? Give me their names.”

  “Shelley, that’s not goi—”

  Her hand thrust toward me. If I’d been wearing a shirt, she’d probably have grabbed a handful and yanked me forward. Instead, she jabbed a finger into my chest. “You will give me their names, Ethan Holloway. And I will hunt them down, because I will not let this go until I get some damn answers as to why someone would take my Gabe and treat him this way. Do you hear me?”

  What answer could I give? Actually, Shel, you’re looking at the why. Once more, guilt tore through me with all the finesse of barbed wire. I faced away, floundering in my mind for something to say that wouldn’t land me in future trouble for not sticking to my word.

  “Fine.” Her curt tone drew me back round. “Protect the human.”

  “Damned right, I’ll protect you. You should never have been involved in this in the first place, Shelley, so if you think I’d let you, in any way, sort this crap out, you don’t think as highly of me as I thought.” She probably wouldn’t, anyway, if she knew the truth. I rubbed at my face, irritated by the ever-expanding length of the bristles coating my chin. “Gabe should never have been dragged into it, either.”

  “You say that like it’s your fault.” At her fingers on my arm, I lowered my hands. Her almond-shaped eyes gazed up at me, full of concern, full of sympathy, and full of something I couldn’t decipher but that drove my pulse to soar. “Why do you always have to beat yourself up over stuff? You can’t hold yourself responsible for every single problem that crosses your path, Ethan.”

  Yes, I can, my head demanded—especially when the blame did fall on my shoulders—yet the expanding bubble of common sense and self preservation made a stand in my throat to stop the words from departing.

  “It’s nobody’s fault,” Dad said, his voice firm. “Ethan’ll realise that once this mess is cleared up.”

  Dad was someone else I’d have to come clean to. Only difference there? I had a way better chance of walking away unscathed from him.

  • • •

  The sight of home should have been enough to send my tension packing. Maybe it would have—if not for the bodies highlighted through three out of four illuminated windows. Although I’d been expecting the presence of so many, what my natural instincts insisted had to be an invasion of territory irked me enough that my virtual ruff puffed up in defence.

  In the top window on the left, Jem’s profile filled the rectangle in silhouette, backlit by the ceiling bulb. A spilt second later, she vanished. Four seconds after that, the front door flew open.

  The truck rolled to a stop as Jem bounced down the front steps in her waddle-hobble. Sean chased after her, hands reaching, panic on his face like he had no idea where to grasp her. “Jem, wait!” He made another grab for her but failed when she twisted and snatched her arm away. She could move damned fast for something resembling a Weeble. “Please, Jem. It’s no good for you, getting yourself so wound up. Take it easy, will you?”

  Pushing open the truck door to her growled comeback of, “I’ll take it easy once I’ve seen for myself he’s okay,” I jumped out with borrowed energy, and caught her mid hop as she threw her arms round my neck. “I’m fine, Jem.”

  Trying to hold a bundle whose bulge separated us took a whole heap of effort. Her nose nuzzled my ear, her sobs shook her body, and her tears tickled in their run down my skin, stinging the slices in my shoulder.

  At my rear, doors opened and closed on the truck, and the heavy footsteps I associated with Dad strode toward the house as I peered over Jem’s head at Sean.

  His wild eyes and flexed hands told me exactly how much trouble Jem had been to placate in my absence. It also told me her emotions must have rocketed right off the scale.

  “You get bigger, or something?” I asked, hoping regular chatter would help calm her down.

  Her nod soaked my throat with what I hoped were tears rather than snot. “And you got thinner.” She lifted her head at my chuckle, and her dark sapphire eyes glistened. “I didn’t think you were coming back. Should have listened to Sean. He told me you’d never miss being an uncle.”

  “You mean his thick skull actually said something sensible?”

  She laughed on her exhale before angling her head as though she’d spotted something behind me. “Shelley’s here?” Jen wiggled her legs until I lowered her to the ground, taking my arm in a death grip as she swung round me to Shelley. “Gabe’s with the doc. He’s doing okay.” She pointed to the house, her composure in place despite the moisture still coating her cheeks and lashes. “You want to come in?”

  “Thanks,” Shelley said.

  With one massively round female hanging off one arm, and a miniature one clutching onto my other, I headed for the fuller-than-usual house.

  Connor’s roar vibrated the windows before I’d even reached there. “Kyle!”

  I almost knocked Shelley and Jem off their feet in my leap up the steps.

  The front door crashed into the hall table as I forced past it.

  Following the choking gurgles and the violent bangs, I took the stairs three at a time.

  My breaths gasped from me as the panic I’d heard in Connor’
s voice affected my frayed nerves.

  I swung right into the guest bedroom and halted, chest heaving.

  “Kyle, come on.” Connor reached out, backed away, over and over, as though he needed to do something yet didn’t know what.

  On the bed in front of him, Kyle’s body jerked and thrashed. His legs kicked out in spasmodic contraction. His arms flailed whilst his fingers flexed to the point they looked like they might snap. The whites of his eyes stared out at the lilac walls above his twitching features, and his mouth froze in perpetual grimace as thick white froth bubbled past his lips.

  Footsteps thudded up the stairs like a stampede. I identified the rest of the pack by scent as they arrived on the landing outside the room.

  Craig stood at the foot of the bed, hypodermic in hand, his wide eyes fixated on Kyle like he couldn’t quite believe what happened.

  Connor turned his accusing glare toward the doc. “What the hell did you give my son?”

  30

  Craig stared at Connor through his glasses, and the strawberry blond hair hanging low over them. He gave a small headshake, dropping his focus to the syringe in his hand. “It’s just antibiotics,” he said, his tone one of utter disbelief.

  A snarl built deep within Connor’s chest. With teeth bared, his lips rippled as the sound roared from his throat.

  “Oh, Jesus.” The doc dropped the needle and staggered back, his hands flying up.

  Dad rushed in, slapping one arm across Connor’s chest, using the other to push him back by the shoulder. “Calm yourself, Connor.”

  “I only gave him antibiotics,” Craig said. “I swear I did.”

  “Then, why is he convulsing like he’s overdosed on some serious shit?” Connor knocked Dad back a step, but Dad regained his footing and control.

  “I-I don’t know.” Craig’s grey eyes held only pleading. “For goodness sake, you know I wouldn’t do anything to harm your family.”

  Connor’s hands fisted. The tendons strained throughout his neck.

  “He knows that.” No amount of tightness in Dad’s voice could hide the quiet warning in his tone. “Don’t you, Connor?”

  On the bed, the froth ceased to spill from Kyle’s mouth, and gut-wrenching, zombie-like groans took their place.

  Dad’s head whipped to the right, Connor’s to the left, and the stiffening throughout their bodies matched my own as we all stared toward Kyle.

  The stench of urine, without fluids for days to dilute it, arrived strong enough to wrinkle my nose, before dampness seeped into the bedding from Kyle’s groin.

  “The medicine must be reacting,” Brook said.

  I spun, finding her just inside the room, the rest of the pack right behind her. Brook’s eyes, a deep glowing gold, fixated on Kyle.

  Kyle’s spasms slowed, the mattress ceasing to squeak with the lessening onslaught, until each of his limbs slumped to the bed as though liquefied. Muscles relaxed in his face. His head rolled to the side. Deep, deep, breaths took over his groans, each inhalation sucking at his lips, each exhalation vibrating past them.

  As the feline’s words sank in, I turned back to the doc, my heart bouncing like a possessed space hopper. “Please tell me you didn’t give Gabe any of this shit.”

  “I didn’t.” He held out his palms. “He’s doing fine.”

  I glanced from Craig to the door, to Craig again. “So, where is he, then?”

  “I’m in your room, where I was ordered to stay put, or else,” Gabe growled out.

  “He spend a lot of time with you?” Craig asked, and I nodded. “He complains as much as you about being treated.”

  “I very much doubt that,” Dad muttered.

  I ignored him, asking Craig, “So, Gabe’s had no antibiotics?”

  He shook his head. “His wounds were all closed over. I only gave them to Kyle because his looked inflamed, and I didn’t want to risk infection.” He rubbed a hand around the back of his neck, above the collar of his green polo shirt. “Never seen anyone have that kind of reaction before, though.”

  “Why would antibiotic react with …” Brook’s focus lifted from Kyle to me, but it seemed to take immense effort.

  “React with what?” Craig stepped forward with a frown. “If he’s been given, or taken, something, I need to know.”

  Brook slipped from her spot, and farther into the room, wearing a pair of Mum’s sweats. “How much does the human know?” she whispered as she passed me.

  I shrugged. ‘Nothing’ would have been my answer of preference, but I refused to be that naïve. Common sense told me—us, the pack—he must have made discoveries he’d never voiced.

  “Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” Craig made a slow focal tour across the four of us standing in the room, toward Josh and Daniel crammed against the opening with Jem peering between them, and Sean behind her. When none of us spoke, he bent for his syringe, his eyes aimed at Dad and Connor. “How can you expect me to treat him like this?”

  Neither of them spoke, only folded their arms across their chests in some kind of united front. I willed them to say something, barely daring to open my own mouth, knowing the reprimand it would bring.

  The loaded glare Brook sent me seemed to question my muteness, beseech me to spill the details, and bollock me for not doing so. Her breath snorted from her nostrils as she turned to Craig. “Venom. He was infected by venom.” Her hands flicked back and forth. “Although … technically, it was anti-venom.”

  “After he’d been infected with venom.” I avoided Dad’s stare as its weight settled on me.

  Craig frowned. “Do I want to ask what kind of venom you’re talking about?”

  “The better question is should you,” I said.

  “Okay.” He said the word slowly. “Should I ask what kind of venom you’re talking about?”

  Three resounding ‘No’s responded from Dad, Connor and Brook as I shook my head.

  Craig opened his mouth; it hung there a moment like he considered arguing, but he nodded. “Okay, then, the best I can do for him is put him on a saline drip to ensure he doesn’t dehydrate any more than he already has, and keep an eye on his vitals. Which means, I’ll have to hook him up to an ECG. But”—he turned to Connor—“if he goes into seizure again, I’ll need to administer an anticonvulsant, which I’ll have no choice but to take him in for as I don’t have any with me.” He shrugged. “With the limited information, that’s the best I can offer to do.”

  Connor nodded, as Dad said, “Do it.”

  The doc released a long exhale. “Anyone care to go to my car for me?”

  Dad pointed to Josh, waved him in, and Josh pushed forward, hand already held out. “What do you need?”

  “It could be a long night,” Craig said, dropping his keys into Josh’s palm. “You’d better bring me everything.”

  Josh paused as he turned for the door, his green eyes skimming over my body before settling on my face. “You look like you pissed off a cat.” When my eyes darted to the left, landing on Brook’s gaze aimed at me, Josh chuckled and nudged me with his shoulder. “Good to have you back.”

  After he ducked out the room, Jem stepped into the gap he’d created, a bowl of water sloshing around in her hands. “Make way for the wide load.” She paused beside Brook. “You hindering, or helping?”

  “I would very much like to help. It may work to take my mind off the discomfort of being the only …” Her eyes flickered to the left, where the doc cleaned his glasses like he pretended not to be listening. “… one of me in a houseful of … you.”

  Jem smiled. “The bathroom’s at the end of the landing. Washcloths are beneath the sink, if you’d like to grab some.”

  Brook nodded. “Of course.”

  “Better bring some towels, too,” Jem called after her. “You’l
l find them on the shelf below.”

  “How about you?” Craig asked me. “Those gashes of yours could do with stitching—especially the one you think you’re doing a good job of hiding beneath your waistband.”

  “I don’t need stitches.” I followed Brook’s apologetic stare as she waltzed past me with the towels for Jem, and tried to convey with my own eyes that I didn’t hold her responsible. Catching Dad’s disapproving expression, and the fold of his arms across his broad chest, I turned back to Craig. “I’m fine. Kyle needs you more than I do. Gabe, too.”

  Craig sighed. “Gabe is not in any immediate danger. Though, I could run tests to find out exactly—”

  “No,” Dad said.

  Craig met Dad’s stare head on yet only for a split second. “Then the best treatment he can currently receive is rest, rehydration and fuel for his body, which is the job of the drip I’ve set him up with.” He sent me a small smile. “And some good old fashioned TLC.”

  And hope for the best, my mind finished. “I’ll go check on him.” For myself.

  In my bedroom, familiarity greeted me in the coffee walls, the crisp freshness of clean linen, the view of the forest through my window, and Shelley … on my bed.

  Stood to reason she’d be with Gabe, but the sight of her sitting somewhere I never thought I’d see her faltered my step and sent me in a sideways stagger. I righted myself before I shoulder slammed the wardrobe, going for cool and collective as I tucked my hands into my pockets.

  Gabe sat in the only chair, with way more worry lines than should have been present on a nineteen-year-old face, and a tube that connected the back of his hand with a bag of clear liquid on the window ledge beside him. “W-what’s up with K-Kyle? He okay?”

  I went to nod, but stopped myself when I realised I didn’t have that positive an answer. “Hopefully.” Shelley staring up at me drew my eyes her way. “How you holding up?”

  “Better. Thanks.”

  “No worries.” I twisted back to Gabe. “You been fed?” The aroma of some kind of broth told me Mum had been busy prepping for the troops.