by Alaska Jones
I sit up when an idea hits me. My embarrassment forgotten, I think it over a few times before confirming that yes, it will work. With a grin on my face, I jump off the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom for a quick shower. Lie low, my ass, I smirk as I wrap myself in a big white towel and return to the bedroom. It takes ten minutes of tugging, sweating, and listening to Cage’s footsteps to open the creaky window.
Once I’m ready, I put on a clean white T-shirt from the wardrobe and repeat the now familiar Cage-summoning ritual at the door. I got a feeling it annoyed him earlier, so I pound twice as hard this time.
“What?” he snaps at me, yanking the door open.
All the smart retorts leave my head at once when I see that he’s shirtless, like in my dream. I do a double-take at the sheer size of him and drop my gaze before he can catch me staring. Seeing him like this awakens all kinds of imagery I don’t want to remember, so I remind myself to pick up my jaw, and look up into his tired eyes.
“Here’s your bowl,” I hand him the empty bowl. “And I want my things from the apartment. I’ll give you the list in the morning. You can go now.”
His eyes darken as he leans close to my face. “It’s two AM!” he utters through his teeth. “The bowl can wait, and I’m not going back to your apartment. Goodnight.” He starts to close the door, but I grab his wrist.
“Yes, you are! If you want me to stay here and play nice, the least you can do is bring me the things I need so that my life doesn’t feel like hell. You’ve already been there, so what’s the big deal? You owe me that much after kidnapping me and stuffing me with drugs! Hey! What are you…” I yelp when he wraps an arm around my legs, swinging me up on his shoulder. “You can’t treat me like this! I’m not your pet! Put me down, you Neanderthal!”
He obeys, dropping me on the bed like a potato sack, and I’m grateful for the darkness when my big T-shirt rides too high up my thighs. Next second, it’s the least of my concerns as he leans over me and clamps his hand over my mouth.
“Stop. Yelling. If anyone calls the cops, we’re both dead.”
I shut up and take a few ragged breaths before blinking once in submission. Slowly, he lifts his hand off my face and props himself over me. I’m too overwhelmed by his scent, warmth, and closeness to have a single helpful thought in my head. He opens his mouth and speaks in a low, calm voice, but all I can do is watch his chiseled lips move mere inches away from me.
“I can do whatever the hell I want, if it means we’re going to get out of this alive. Get used to it. And go back to sleep.”
He straightens up and heads to the door.
“Wait!” I call out, then cringe and lower my voice. “Please, I can’t live here like an animal. I need the essentials, like clothes and medicine. It’ll take you five minutes to pick up this stuff, but it’ll make a huge difference for me.”
At last, he turns to look at me, and I can see by his raised eyebrow that I’ve got his attention. “Medicine?”
I shrug my shoulders, doing my best to look sincere. “Yeah, for my stomach. I have… gastritis,” I blurt out. “It’s better than taking me to the hospital, because that’s what happens when I stop taking the pills.” I fall silent, waiting for his reply, but he just gives me a speculative look. “Come on. Five minutes. It’s all I’m asking for.”
“It’s a forty-minute drive from here to your place, so no, it’s not five minutes. That’s not the problem. There are people watching the building, waiting for you. It’s not that simple.”
“Well, you did it once. I’m sure you can do it again.”
He gives a quiet sigh, dragging a hand through his tousled hair. I can’t help the warmth that pools inside me as I watch the muscles move under his skin, dark-brown in the dim light.
“Did you record the voicemail greeting I told you about?”
“Yes,” I lie, fidgeting with the bed covers.
He reaches into his jeans pocket, and I bite my lip when I see him take out his cell phone and make a call. My Nokia buzzes, and I grab it and press Decline before it goes to voicemail.
His frowned eyes turn to me, making me shrink back on the bed. “Okay, I haven’t done it yet, but only because I fell asleep. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”
“Fine. And keep that list short. The place has been trashed, after all.” I nod my head obediently. “And stop pounding on the door like that, or I’ll install a grid. Feeling like a pet will be the least of your problems then.”
“Okay,” I say, not really meaning it.
Because tomorrow, all this will be all but forgotten.
Chapter 5
Cage
I finish my second cup of coffee and look at the wall clock – ten-thirty.
It’s been two hours since I woke up. I’ve taken a cold shower, exercised, done some research and made a few calls, but still haven’t fully woken up. Between the redhead’s insomnia and my own, I must have got about three hours of sleep. And as much as I hate the idea of going back to her apartment, getting some air does seem appealing. Especially, since there’s not much to do while I gather information.
“Are you done?” I call out from the living room.
“Almost!”
I cast my eyes skyward, picking up her bowl. She’s been at it for an hour, and I’m sensing, the list can rival Texas in size by now.
“I’ll write down some extra items,” she murmurs as I come in, “If you can’t find the things from List One… Hey!” I snatch the sheet of paper from her hands and put the bowl on the nightstand.
“Eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” she grumbles.
I glance at her, flopping down in the armchair with the list. “I don’t care. You have to eat if you have gastritis. I’m not sure I’ll be able to take you to the hospital if it gets bad.”
“I’ll eat later, what’s the big deal?” She stares at me as I put down the list and look at her. There’s something off about her. Maybe it’s the look in her eyes, too intense for it to be just about the food. Maybe it’s her sudden confidence, when just yesterday, she was freaking out. I don’t know for sure, so I make a mental note and press my point.
“You’ll eat now, while I’m reading, or I’m not going anywhere. End of discussion.”
She sighs and picks up the bowl. “I hate oatmeal…”
“Too bad.” I switch my gaze back to the list.
“Here’s an idea: just fix me a couple sandwiches, and when you return, I’ll have whatever you have.”
I suppress a sigh and look up at her smiling face. For a performer, she’s not that good an actress. “Not gonna happen.” I get up to grab a pen. “I’m afraid I’ll have to shorten the list.”
She gags on her oatmeal as I strike off a few things.
“What? No! I need everything on that list!”
“Really? Why would you need a gray Victoria’s Secret sweatsuit and a Jenna name necklace? I don’t think you understand what trashed means.”
“The necklace is a gift from my best friend, and the sweatsuit is in case it gets cold here!”
“Here, in LA?” I give her a skeptical look. “I don’t think a sweatsuit can save you from the planet shifting on its axis.”
“Whatever. Just make sure you find the brown bottle with my medicine.” She puts down the bowl, and I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, I’m full already!”
“I’m waiting…” I shake my head, pausing at the door.
With an angry glare in my direction, she swallows down the last of the oatmeal and hands me the bowl and the keys to her apartment.
“Here, you monster. Now, hurry up. There’s only so long a woman can live without underwear.”
I mentally kick myself when my eyes dart to the hem of her shirt, and duck out of the door, only to come back when I forget to lock it. Why did she have to bring it up? This is not something I want in my head while I’m working. All kinds of shit might be waiting for me in that apartment of hers, and now I’m not just sleep-deprived, but also hor
ny.
Women, I sigh and shake my head.
Chapter 6
Jenna
The moment Cage leaves, I pick up the phone and call Charlie. He answers on what seems like the hundredth ring, and by then, my palms are so sweaty, I’m worried I might flood the apartment.
“Jenna! Are you alright??” Charlie’s husky voice nearly deafens me.
“Yes, but I need your help and I need it fast. Don’t interrupt me. Anthony got in trouble, so the guy that’s after him kidnapped me. He keeps me locked in his apartment. He didn’t hurt me or anything, but I gotta get out of here. I don’t know where I am. He’s headed to my place, so you gotta go NOW and get him.”
“Okay, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll go get the boys, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Be careful, Charlie. He’s dangerous.”
“Sure he is…” I hear a thud that sounds like a car door closing. “Do you know when he’ll be there?”
“He said forty minutes.”
“I’m on my way. Can you stay on the line?”
“Hmm…” I realize there’s no point in hanging up. If my plan doesn’t work, Cage will take measures anyway. “I guess I can. He only left the phone here in case Anthony calls, and he forbade me to call anyone.”
“That’s strange. You sure it’s not just some thug that’s got beef with Tony?”
“He doesn’t look like a thug, Charlie,” I say, hurrying to the bathroom. “Who’s with you? He’s about twice your size.”
“Don’t you worry about me. There’s three of us and one of him. I’ve got Lincoln with me.”
“Good. Wait a second.” I bend over the toilet with two fingers stuffed down my throat. Even though I hold the phone away from me, I can hear Charlie’s alarmed voice as I heave up my breakfast. I don’t know if there’s a pill in it and if it’s already in my system, but now, at least there’s hope I won’t fall asleep again. “Sorry about that. Where are you right now?”
“Twenty minutes from your place. Are you alright?”
“Yes. You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
“So, Tony’s in trouble? I thought he went to Italy.”
I wash my face and wipe it with a towel before returning to the bedroom. “Really? So he lied to you too?”
“Well, I run the club, not his personal life. Did your… guy say what kind of trouble it was?”
“No, but he said Anthony’s a dead man. And something about Colombia, not Italy. Is it true? Was Anthony really lying about his business trips all this time?”
In my head, I can see Charlie shrug and pull at his short graying beard. “I’ll be honest with you, kid. I stopped asking long ago. When it comes to his other work, Tony’s kind of secretive. But if it’s as serious as – what’s his name?”
“Cage.”
“If it’s as serious as Cage said, I think you should leave town for a while once we get you.”
“Yeah…” I breathe out, pulling at my hair as I gaze out the window, as if there’s something besides the brick wall. “I guess there’s no choice for me. And I can’t go home. Oh, maybe Tina could come with me?”
“Sure.” I hear his dismissive tone, but it doesn’t annoy me. After all, his focus is on more important and dangerous things than where I’m going to spend the next few months. “Okay, what’s he look like?”
“Who?” I ask stupidly.
“Cage. We’ll be waiting inside, and I don’t want to accidentally assault your landlord or handyman.”
“Right…” I take a moment to gather my thoughts while checking the two doors, in case Cage forgot to lock up. He didn’t. “Wait, did I say he’s armed?”
“That’s kind of given, Jenna.”
“Just wanted to make sure you came prepared.” I catch myself throwing up my hands, as if he can see me.
“I was prepared before this bastard was even born. Come on, we’re almost there. What else?”
Chapter 7
Cage
With a few shortcuts, I get there faster than the first time and pull up at the corner so I can see what’s going on at the front doors without attracting attention. It’s a new condo, with a narrow driveway and a parking lot in the back. There are plenty of trees, but they don’t obscure my vision. Five minutes later, a black Range Rover screeches to a stop by the front door. I take out the binoculars, safe behind the tinted windows.
“…very tall, athletic, with dark-brown, um, longish hair. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans. There’s a big tattoo on his right forearm. What else…” Jenna’s voice fills my ears as I watch three men get out of the car. One of them is wearing an earpiece, just like mine, so I assume that’s Charlie. He’s about fifty years old, with raven hair and a beard, and shorter than the other two by a head. I’ve seen him at the club, and I remember him watching me too. Normally, two encounters are enough to notice each other, so I make a mental note to avoid being seen by this man in particular.
“How old is he?” Charlie asks her, disappearing inside the building with his companions, one bald and sturdy, the other one blond and lean.
“Hmm… Thirty-five, maybe forty. It’s hard to say.”
Forty? I can’t help but glance in the rearview mirror. Oh, quit it, girl. But there’s not much to do while I wait for them to clear out. Sure, there are dark circles around my eyes, and the beard makes everyone look older, but forty?
Whatever. Why do I care what she thinks about me anyway?
“We’re here, and we’ve got an eye out on the front door. Do you know what car he drives?”
“No, I can’t even see the street from my window. I’m in the process of picking the lock in the bathroom, but I’m not sure a bobby pin and a small wire are enough for that.”
I sit up straight. That’s bad. She won’t get out of the apartment even if she opens the bathroom door, but there’s a whole bunch of things she just can’t see. I always clean up my things before leaving, but when it comes to this woman, I have to face it – my expectations haven’t been accurate so far. The way she set me up still has me in awe, and I can’t decide whether I hate or admire her. I didn’t doubt her calling someone eventually, and that’s why I’ve given her the phone, to find out everything there is on Hunt directly; but this? A full-on ambush in just a day?
I shake my head, not for the first time this morning, and pick up yet another cup of black, steaming coffee. There are plenty of ways to fix the damage, even if she does get out of the bedroom, but she’s going to make this job difficult.
“Charlie?” her voice interrupts my train of thought.
“Yes?”
“You aren’t going to kill him, are you?”
“Who?”
“Cage.”
There’s a pause, and I find myself straining my ears, suddenly interested in their conversation.
“Not if we don’t have to,” Charlie replies at last, and even I can hear the stiffness in his voice that means he’s lying.
“And what if I asked you not to?”
“Why? You said he’s dangerous.”
“Yes, but he also saved my life, so I feel really shitty about this. Oh, and he said I wouldn’t be safe on my own right now. Do you think it’s true?”
“I don’t know, kid. There are rumors, but I didn’t know what happened until you called. And what do you mean? I thought you said he kidnapped you.”
“He did, but before that, some thugs attacked me just outside Velvet. If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead. And it’s not like I’d be okay with you killing some random person because of me, but with him, I just…” I hear her sigh, as if struggling to put her feelings into words. “I can’t do it. Can’t be a part of this. Is it okay with you?”
Charlie lets out a grunt. “Okay, we’ll do what we can. Can’t have you living with guilt, girl. Wait, someone’s here.”
“Is it him?”
I watch an old man get out of a black SUV and hear Charlie reply with a disappointed sigh,
“No, false alarm.”
I lose track of their conversation as I catch a glimpse of my dumb smirk in the rearview mirror. It takes me a minute to trace it back to Jenna’s words about how she wouldn’t be okay with Charlie killing me. She doesn’t hate me, the thought echoes in my head, unwanted, until my buzzing cell phone interrupts it.
I smile at the unfamiliar number, knowing that only one person keeps trying to force his way into my life uninvited. “Detective Miller!” I greet him as I lock my eyes on the second hand of my watch.
“Miss me?” he copies my friendly tone, but his usual grumbling manner is still there. Only one of us is pretending – I’m genuinely happy to make a fool of him every time he reappears in my life.
“If I say I did, will you believe me?” Ten seconds.
“Considering how it went down last time we spoke, maybe. What you did back in San Diego was beautiful, I’ll give you that. You must be real proud of yourself.”
“Why, thank you! That’s nice to hear, but you’d better tell me why you’re really calling me, or I’m hanging up,” I warn him in the same exaggeratedly polite voice.
“Fine,” he grunts. “We picked up your trail near Club Velvet and a few more locations that I won’t mention. Just wanted you to be prepared, because we’re about to meet in person, finally.”
Thirty seconds.
“Yeah… I don’t think so,” I drawl, letting him think that my confidence got the best of me. It’s just a few seconds, but hope only needs so much time to find its way into someone’s heart. “Congrats on tracking down my phone number though. That’s impressive.”
“Don’t you wanna know who gave it to us?”
Forty.
I only hesitate for a moment, reminding myself that I’ll be leaving the country for good soon, and it doesn’t matter. “Not really. Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got terrible crimes to commit. Take care, Doug.”
I can imagine exactly what he looks like as I hang up and remove the battery from the device before taking another phone out from the glove compartment. After all, I’ve seen him many times, which he can’t say about me. All he’s got is one blurry picture, and now, the useless phone number. I know he’s from Utah, his mother is Irish, and his kids just graduated from UCLA. I also know he’s about to retire, and he would’ve done it two years ago if he hadn’t stumbled across my case.