by Alaska Jones
“Did you have to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He winces and pulls away when I press too hard on his bruised knuckles, distracted.
“It’s safer for you. I couldn’t let them go and tell their boss that you have escaped. At least, this way they don’t know if you’re alive.” He picks up the medicine and stands up for the second time.
“I see,” I whisper through the dry throat, making him turn around and look at me. It’s like he’s daring me to accuse him, to say it out loud, that he’s a killer and a monster, no better than those thugs that jumped me in the dark alley. But I can’t.
Instead, I finally say what I meant to say since the moment I woke up in his bedroom. “Thank you. I never thanked you for saving me. I hope it’s not too late.”
“It’s okay.”
I blink, and he’s gone.
Frozen in place, I think that there are only two things that matter. He killed for me before he even knew me. He risked his life so he could save mine. Maybe, it’s enough to trust him.
Maybe, it’s enough not to.
Chapter 11
Cage
I crash on the sofa, feeling as if all the energy has been sucked out of me.
Jenna’s touch has brought up all kinds of memories that have been buried too deep for too long. And then, she had to bring up the scar. Every time someone mentions it, I feel this overwhelming urge to tell them everything, to talk about it just once, but I was never able to. So I fight with myself, until I’m too exhausted to care.
To think about it, that’s the reason I became who I am now. From the moment my therapist started pressing me into talking about it, I knew I was doomed. So I buried it, together with the memories of the normal life I used to have, my friends, girlfriend, plans for the future; and then I ran.
And I was good at keeping it that way, until now. Until Jenna reminded me of how a woman’s touch feels. Not the greedy kind that comes with one-night stands, but the real thing. The one that comes with you waking up in one bed every morning, with her silky hair in your face, with your legs entwined under the blanket. I’m sorry, Annie, the words echo in my head, but I can’t even remember her grief-stricken face anymore. That was the last thing I said to the girl that loved me for three years before Iraq. At least, I know she’s happily married. I would’ve made her miserable.
I rub a hand over my face, willing my head to clear of these thoughts, along with the feeling of Jenna’s hand in mine. There was something different about her this time, and I wonder if she’s up to something again. I can’t spend another night worrying about her doing something reckless.
Sleep comes just as I think that I should probably check up on her. Soon enough, I’m back to the scorching desert, feeling the sand on my skin, hearing the soldiers scream, watching my life fall apart over and over again.
I wake up with a start, feeling like only a minute passed since I blacked out. Really, it’s been three hours, and the clock shows one AM. I roll off the sofa with a groan and drag my feet to the bathroom, knowing I need to snap out of it before I try to sleep again, or I’ll fall right back into the same dream. Cold water helps the sleepiness, but not my throbbing head. I think about taking a shower, but I’m too tired and restless at the same time. Before I realize it, I find myself in the bedroom, standing over Jenna’s sleeping form.
I remember watching her on the first night. She moaned and tossed in her sleep, probably dreaming about the attack. Something didn’t let me leave her, and I worked on my notes in between reaching out to calm her down and whisper for her to go back to sleep. For the first time in years, I was reminded of what it felt like to take care of someone, to touch another human being without meaning to harm them, to feel the need to protect them. I knew she would never care about me, no one would, but I still let myself get carried away, to feel it just for the sake of feeling it. I can’t even tell if it’s her or if any woman in her place would’ve made me feel the same.
It used to drive me, above all else, that primal urge to help those in need. And then it ruined me, because my failure was too much to take. Maybe I clawed my way out of the pit to some semblance of light by going through the motions, but what’s next? Is there a next for me? Will anything really change when I move, or is this all I’m good for?
Jenna sighs and rolls over on her back, and I just stand there like some creep, wondering what I look and sound like when one of those nightmares is burning another hole in my brain. What crazy woman would take a freak like me to bed? Someone who snores too loudly to hear me screaming?
I smirk and shake my head at the thought, pulling the armchair up to the bed. If I wanted a distraction, I got it, but I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet.
“Cage? Is that you?” I almost fall off the chair at the sound of her voice.
“Um… Yes.” I clear my throat and curse in my head.
“What are you doing here?” She blinks at me groggily, sitting up.
It takes me a second to come up with a lie. “You were screaming in your sleep. I came to check up on you.” I stand up, only to trip over the chair leg and drag it across the floor with a deafening screech. She winces at the sound and smoothes her hair down self-consciously.
“I had a bad dream. Sorry I woke you up.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” I heave a sigh of relief, selfishly glad about her nightmares. Otherwise, she’d probably bring it up again in the morning.
“Can you stay?” She stops me in my tracks as I head out.
“What?” I try to keep the incredulous expression off my face, but fail miserably.
“You could wake me up if I have a nightmare again. It’s a big bed.” She shrugs, pointing her eyes at the free space to her right.
“Um…” I try to jump-start my sleepy brain so I can come up with an excuse, but there’s only white noise. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I mutter, already knowing she’s going to win. There’s nothing left in me to fight, and if she only knew how tempting she looked, tousled from sleep like that, she’d show mercy and let me go.
“Please?” I hold back a helpless groan, turning away from her big, pleading eyes. You’re so fucked up, Cage. Go back to your couch. “I’m not going to strangle you in your sleep, I promise,” she grumbles when I don’t respond.
I wish you did, I moan inwardly as my feet carry me back to her against my will. I remember about the door and lock it, hiding the key in my pocket.
“I often have nightmares. If you don’t get any sleep, remember that this was your idea,” I warn her, stretching on the bed. It feels like heaven. At the edge of my sight, I see her lie down on the pillow. If I rolled over on my side, we’d be face-to-face.
“Well…” She yawns, stretching under the covers. “In that case, I promise to wake you up too.”
Despite my gloomy mood, I laugh. My bad dream has been haunting me for years. I wish someone could wake me up from that.
“Why were you up so late?” she mumbles, and I turn my head, shooting her a stern look.
“Sleep.”
“Okay.” She rolls her eyes, but in a minute, I can hear her steady breath and realize I’m not getting any sleep tonight. Fuck.
It takes all my strength to keep myself from reaching out and sliding a hand over the perfection that is her silhouette. I know exactly what’s hidden under the blanket, and the visual is driving me crazy.
I can’t help but wonder if she would stop me, and the thought alone has every cell in my body awake with need. Remember how scared she was when she first saw you, a voice says in my head, making me grimace. The last thing I want is to be some creep who takes advantage of his female hostages. Hostage, singular, I correct myself, but I bet she already thinks I’m exactly that kind of man.
I sigh, turning my eyes up to the ceiling, and contemplate going back to the living room. But it really is a big bed, and there’s a beautiful woman on it. Not being able to touch her doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy her company
.
Fuck you, I say to the voice in my head and carefully roll onto my side, lying just a few inches away from her. This close, I can feel her warmth, and the way her chest rises and falls as she breathes fills me with peace, lulling me into oblivion. Soon enough, I find myself breathing in unison with her, and my eyelids grow heavier by the second.
The last thing I think of before I fall asleep is that the Cage-Before-Jenna would so kick my ass for trusting someone like this.
Chapter 12
Jenna
A soft buzzing pulls me out of my dream, and I wake up utterly confused. The light is blinding, there’s a heavy weight on my back, and the buzzing is coming from somewhere underneath my head. It takes me a few seconds to figure out that it’s the phone that I left under the pillow. I stare blearily at Charlie’s phone number, not knowing what to do.
My confusion turns into shock when I look over my shoulder and realize that the heavy weight is Cage’s large arm draped over my back. Memory returns slowly, and I remember asking him to stay, but I have no idea what had gotten into me. I freeze, feeling his steady heartbeat against my back, and decide to take the chance with the phone call.
In a single move, I slip out from underneath him and dash to the bathroom.
“Hey, Charlie,” I whisper, hoping he hasn’t hung up.
“How are you, Jenna? Any news?”
“I’m okay. Nothing yet. You?”
“There might be something on Tony, but I’m waiting for a confirmation. My boys are gonna start looking for you now. Can you look out the window and write down everything you see?”
“Oh, Charlie…” I press a hand to my face and turn on the water, in case Cage wakes up and hears me. “There’s just a glimpse of a street. I’m not sure it’ll be of any help.”
“It will, once we narrow it down a bit.”
“I’ll do it as soon as I can. I’ll try to call you later.”
“Okay. Bye, Jenna.”
“Bye.”
I sigh and stare at the phone, reminded of the fact that Cage can find out about the calls any moment. The battery is almost dead, so I make a mental note to ask him for a charger while checking the other door. It’s locked, as usual, but I won’t stop trying.
I brush my hair and wash up before returning to the bedroom, surprised to find him in the same position, still asleep. With me gone, he’s sprawled across the bed on his stomach. His left arm is partly hidden under the pillow, but the other one is stretched out at his side, so I can finally see the tattoo as a whole.
Too curious to miss the opportunity to study him, I tiptoe back to the bed and carefully sit down on the edge. The tattoo begins just above his pants, following his spine in two sharp stripes. It widens in the middle and spreads out to his shoulders along with a few patterns, reminding me of the tiger’s stripes. On the right side, it wraps around his shoulder, continuing down his sculpted arm and ending in a wide geometric band.
Without thinking, I reach out two fingers and carefully slide them over the pattern on his shoulder and down to the forearm. It’s only then that I notice small letters there, a line of words woven in between the patterns. It disappears around his arm, so I lean down and try to turn it.
I blink, and his hand is suddenly wrapped around my wrist. Biting down on my lip, I look up to find a single gray eye staring at me through the tangled hair.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He looks me over, not changing his position, and I tense as the silence lingers and his long fingers stay locked on my wrist. Without a warning, he pulls me down so I end up with my back to him and his arm holding me in place, steel-hard.
“I can’t think with you staring at me like that.”
“Um…” I mumble, still as a mouse in a hawk’s talons. “O-kay…?”
“What time is it?” he grumbles into my hair.
“Eleven.”
“Eleven??” I feel him tense behind me, but only for a moment. Next second, his weight is gone, and he stretches on the bed with a yawn. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“I just got up myself.” I look at him over my shoulder, only to turn away when the sight of his shirtless, ripped body right next to me is too much to take. “How’s your hand?” I ask, looking for a distraction.
He raises his right hand – long, scarred, and yet, absolutely perfect – and flexes it a few times. I grimace, annoyed at my ogling.
“Fine.” I notice how he’s not in a hurry to get up. Instead, he rolls over onto his side and props his head on his hand, looking at me through the perfect mess of dark hair.
“Why don’t you try calling Hunt?”
I choke on my breath. “Now?? Why? He never picks up.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs and scratches his stubble. “It’s a hunch. Do it.”
I pick up the phone, rolling my eyes. Seconds stretch out like hours while I listen to long beeps, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing stare. I cut my eyes sideways, noticing the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips, but when I turn to him, it’s gone.
“See?” I hang up and toss the phone on the bed.
He shrugs again and finally sits up. “Okay.”
I try not to stare when he falls to the floor to do a few pushups, then gets up and opens the wardrobe, offering me a view of his broad, long back.
“By the way, I need a charger for this thing.” I shake the phone at him when he turns to look at me. His expression wavers in a strange way, and as I watch his eyes darken, cold spreads through my veins when I realize what a stupid thing I just did.
“Really?” he rumbles slowly. I can swear he knows every thought that’s going through my head right now. He knows everything. But for some reason, he puts on a blank face and a light tone. “It’s a Nokia. It only needs charging, like, once in a blue moon.”
I realize my throat is dry and swallow hard, praying that my face doesn’t give away my fear. “Yes, but everyone has been calling me lately. It still uses up the battery even if I don’t pick up.”
He steps closer, and it takes all in me not to bolt to the door. It’s like there are two Cages, and the moment something serious comes up, he changes from the human, sarcastic Cage into this cold, observant beast.
He takes the phone from me, eerily quiet, and looks at the screen. I know he’s two buttons away from finding out I called Charlie, right here and now, and the thought has me paralyzed with fear. Somehow, the idea of him checking the call history and then coming here to yell at me seemed much less terrifying. Now, I can’t even explain it. He could yell at me from across the street and still have me shitting bricks.
“Okay,” I hear him say, and as my thoughts return to reality, I realize he has dropped the phone on the bed and returned to the wardrobe.
I exhale, feeling cold sweat beading on the back of my neck. “Can I have some coffee?” I hear myself say in a thin voice.
“Nope.” He picks up his clothes and heads to the door.
I open my mouth to protest, but snap it back shut. From now on, I decide I will think three, no, five times before I say anything to him.
Chapter 13
Cage
After a quick workout, a shave, and a shower, I walk into the kitchen to fix us something for breakfast. I pass on the coffee, feeling more awake than I’ve felt in weeks. In fact, the last time I slept through the night was when I had drunk myself into a coma because I couldn’t take any more sleepless nights. The time before that, I was on medication after a minor shooting incident.
I pause, realizing that I remember every single time it happened in the past six months, because that’s how rare it is. And now, there was nothing, except Jenna next to me.
I shake my head at the thought. Don’t be ridiculous. Still, it’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what real rest feels like. With the weariness gone, I don’t need anger to drive me. I don’t feel like a robot anymore, going through the motions, when all I really want is to black out for a week. With so much energy, I can’t
stay still, so I pace the kitchen floor while I wait for the kettle to boil.
I pick up a clean T-shirt, when suddenly, my earpiece clicks,
“Charlie, what is it? I can’t talk right now.”
“I got a confirmation on that thing about Tony, so I might be unavailable for an hour or so. Have you got the info I asked you about?”
I blink. The info? Confirmation? What the hell did I miss?
“Not yet. I’m waiting for him to leave. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Okay. I’m gonna swing by Velvet to check on a couple things before tonight’s show. If you need anything from there, just tell me.”
There’s a short pause. “Just the stuff from my locker. Thanks, Charlie. Bye.”
The earpiece goes quiet, and I stand there, baffled. This is what I get for enjoying my morning too much.
It takes me a few moments to calm down the chaos in my thoughts and pick out the facts. If I leave now, I might be able to intercept Charlie at the club and follow him wherever he’s going. But I can’t leave Jenna alone, because she’s obviously up to something. Between tying her to the bed and feeding her another sleeping pill, I choose the fastest option and quickly grind down the pill and mix it into her oatmeal. I can’t keep doing it forever, and she’s not sick anymore, but there’s really no time.
I put on my jeans and a black hoodie, when an idea hits me. Even if I don’t catch up with Charlie, I could get something out of all this. It takes me a couple of minutes to gather my things and grab some food on my way out.
“I’m heading out, so be a good girl and don’t trash the place while I’m gone,” I say, coming in to drop off her breakfast.
She cuts her eyes at the oatmeal and grimaces. “Why, did something happen?”
“I just got a call. Hunt has been spotted in town.”
“Really?” She acts casual, but I know she has swallowed the bait. “Okay. Good luck with all the killing.”