Caged: An Alpha Protector Romance

by Alaska Jones

  I tiptoe to the grid and peek outside, seeing nothing but darkness. After he turned off the lights, the walls still shone with the ambient light of the laptop screen for a while. I decide to wait another thirty minutes, just in case. Time passes at a snail’s pace, but at last, I get up and open the bathroom door.

  Now, the main challenge is to unlock the second door without waking him up. I know he’s a troubled sleeper, and sometimes, I wake up to a lit hallway at three in the morning. But at this point, I just don’t care. I have to get out. I have to know that I can get out any time I need to.

  With moonlight not reaching this far into the apartment, I sneak in utter darkness, careful not to trip over anything. I don’t know what I’d expected to see – it is night, after all. But I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear anything.

  When Cage’s voice breaks the silence all of a sudden, I freeze in place, paralyzed with fear. For a moment, the noise of blood pumping in my head drowns out the voice of reason. Swiftly, everything comes back into focus, and I realize that his voice is muffled, as if he’s talking in his sleep.

  “Please, don’t…” he groans somewhere behind the wall.

  I hit my toe against something, but ignore the pain, too impatient to see him. The spacious living room is bathed in moonlight from the balcony. It looks empty, save for the round table and the sofa that Cage is sleeping on. The papers and strange devices on the table get barely a glance from me as I sneak past it and to his side.

  “No, no, please…” Cage’s voice is just a whisper now. He tosses in his sleep, his face glistening with perspiration. It must be a terrible nightmare, but all I can do is stare and try to ignore the desperate fluttering of my heart against my ribcage.

  After our fight slash make out, I can’t even imagine his reaction if he finds me here. Any normal person is not themselves after a nightmare, but Cage? Who knows what he’ll do? Having seen him lose it earlier today, I have no intention of bringing that scary part of him back. The only thing keeping me from freaking out is the way he kissed me. His hands were the hands of a crazy person, but his lips… That kiss was genuine, like his deepest desire breaking free, and because of it, I’ve all but forgotten the way his greedy hands felt on my body.

  I know I should get back to the bedroom, but I’m already kneeling at his side, unable to tear my eyes off of him. Seeing him tormented by his own mind like this, I forget all about the day’s terrors. He flinches and moans, and I brush a strand of hair back from his face, careful not to wake him up.

  As he quiets down and his breath evens out, I realize something. It’s been somewhere on the edge of my consciousness for a while, but this time, I feel it, I know it like I know that the sun rises in the east.

  I don’t care what he’s done in the past. I don’t know if I’m crazy to ignore his rage issues. All I know is, he needs me more than I need him. The worst thing that could happen to me right now is getting killed, quick and final. But Cage will suffer for years, burning out from whatever’s haunting him, until there’s nothing left. I don’t know if there’s absolution for someone like him, but if there’s a chance I can save him, I have to try.

  Even if he doesn’t want it.

  Chapter 19

  Cage

  I wake up from the bright light that fills the room like fire, setting every surface ablaze.

  The last few hours of sleep were blissfully dreamless, but then I remember about the nightmare that I had right after falling asleep and hastily push the thought away before it spoils my mood. The reality is just as unpleasant, knowing what has to be done today, and I can’t get rid of the image of Jenna’s face in my mind’s eye as I go through my morning routine. She’ll hate me, but she’ll survive. A few extra sets of pushups and crunches help the anger, but not the bitterness that fills the pit of my stomach, threatening to spill out and make me do things I’ll regret.

  There’s just enough time to prepare for the job, so I don’t waste any of it and eat while I work, putting together all the information I was able to get in the past week. Jenna’s still asleep when I bring her a couple of sandwiches and a thermos with tea. I can only see her face and the smudge of red that is her hair, and the rest is just a silhouette under the thin blanket.

  Resisting the urge to take a picture of her, I walk out and lock the grid. I’ll forget her a lot faster if I don’t have anything to look at. It’ll take time, but I’ll thank myself later.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, and just like that, I discover that the day can get worse than it already is.

  “Dwight,” I greet my boss, keeping my voice down as I step out on the stairwell.

  “How’s it going, Cage? It’s been a week.”

  “It’s fine. Shouldn’t take more than a couple days now.”

  “Really? So you did find him?”

  “Maybe. I’m about to find out.”

  “When?”

  I pause, displeased with his nosiness, and lean down on the railing. “I’ll call you when it’s done, as always. What’s the problem?”

  “I can only wait so long, Cage. This time’s different. My own head is on the line.”

  Good riddance, that would be, I say to myself. “So? What do you want from me?”

  “You have to be more specific.”

  “You know I don’t share the details before the job’s done.”

  “I know, I know…” I can hear him lean back in his chair and light a cigar. “Just give me something. Are you going after him today?”

  I suppress a sigh. “Yes, this afternoon. But even if he’s not there, it’s a good lead.”

  “So he’s in town, after all?”

  Oh, what the hell, this job’s already a mess anyway. “No, I think he’s staying just out of town with a friend. It’ll take me a couple hours to get there, and I’ll call you once I find out anything. Deal?”

  “What about his girl?”

  My whole body tenses at his sudden change of topic.

  “What about her?”

  “You know where she is?”

  “Yes. I’ve tapped her phone, so if he calls her, I’ll know.”

  “If you don’t find him in two days, we’ll have to take measures.”

  “What kind of measures?”

  “You know what kind. Start taking out his people. The club. The girl. Maybe a funeral or two will help lure him out.”

  I suck in a breath, feeling the hair on my neck rise. “That’s not how I work.”

  “Well… We’ll have to rearrange it, then. I’ll double the pay, if that’s what you want.”

  “No, that’s not what I want. I want to do my job, and that’s one man and one man only. The girl, the club staff, they got nothing to do with this.”

  Dwight gives a displeased grunt. “We’ll see. Call me as soon as you have any news.”

  “I will.”

  Long after the call has disconnected, I stare at the phone, trying to sort out the chaos in my thoughts. He just had to call today. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, but right after I made the decision about Jenna. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s like a fucking sign. As if someone up there is personally not okay with me bringing her here and clinging to the ridiculous idea that it’s good for her.

  I call Al as I come in, hearing Jenna get up and run the water in the bathroom. It takes me a few tries to reach him, but eventually, I hear his voice,

  “What’s up?”

  “I need a favor,” I say, stretching on the sofa.

  “Another one? It’ll cost ya,” he laughs. “What is it?”

  “I need to check the security level on a place. Can Gia help with that?”

  “I’m pretty sure she can.”

  “I’ll text you the address.”

  “No problem!” He hangs up before I can say thanks. He’s probably at the beach right now, with a six pack and not a care in the world, and I hate him a little.

  I spend the afternoon going over the list of things I might need for the job and double-checking eve
ry single one of them. Al calls me some time later, making sure to annoy me with questions about Jenna and the situation here before he gives me the info. It’s all good, it turns out, with just a couple of guards down by the front gates and no outer perimeter. He even sends me some satellite pictures, so I know there are a few good vantage points for me up on a hill.

  At two o’clock, I put on a pair of old jeans and a khaki T-shirt and go to the bedroom with a big duffel bag in my hand. Jenna looks up at me from where she’s sitting on the bed, with a bunch of her jewelry scattered in front of her. I don’t know if it’s what I said yesterday, or if she’s just not in the mood for sexy clothes anymore, but she’s wearing loose pajama pants and a plain white tee.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, dropping the bag by the wardrobe.

  “Um…” She looks me in the eyes, only to switch her gaze somewhere else in a second, her delicate brows drawing together in a frown. “Just sorting it out, what I wanna keep and what I can sell.” Reaching up to gather her messy curls into a ponytail, she spies the bag. “What’s this?”

  “You can use it to pack your stuff. Get dressed, you’re leaving.”

  Eyes wide, she tries to lock her gaze with mine, but I turn to the wardrobe to sort through the rest of my things, in case I forgot anything I might need.

  “I’m leaving? Alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where am I going?”

  “I don’t know…” I sigh, opening a drawer only to shove it back shut. “I don’t want to know.”

  “But… Why?” Her confused voice makes me pause. I was prepared for a fight, for her yelling, throwing things, and calling me names, not whispering in shock. What am I supposed to do with this?

  I glance at her and close my eyes, rubbing a hand over my face as I try to ignore her look, so defenseless and utterly defeated. “You’re not safe here anymore. It’s better if you wait it out somewhere else,” I explain to her, hoping that maybe, once she knows the reason, she’ll become herself again.

  She blinks, her gaze turning distant as she looks away, processing my words. Just as I step to the door, she speaks again,

  “You’re lying. It’s because of yesterday, isn’t it?” Her words are accusing, but her voice is a little more than a whisper, as if she knows she lost the fight before it even started.

  “No, it’s not. The situation has changed.”

  “So you’re kicking me out without even an explanation?” She gets off the bed, and finally, I can see the real Jenna somewhere in those fiery green eyes.

  “You knew you’d have to leave eventually. What did you think would happen? A going-away party and a Hostage Of The Year diploma?”

  “No, I just…”

  “You what?”

  “I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, okay?” she exclaims. “I’m not ready to leave, Cage!”

  The way she says my name leaves a small hole in my chest, and I swear under my breath, struggling to keep emotions at bay. “Why? Why in hell would you want to stay? You hate this place!”

  “It’s not that I want to stay,” she says with a vague gesture. “I don’t know where to go, and we were supposed to set up a new bank account, remember? And I won’t even know if…” her voice trails off, and she drops her gaze when I look her in the eyes.

  “If what?”

  “If…” She throws up her hand. “If it’s over. If you’re okay.”

  I can’t hold back the humorless laugh that escapes my lips, and she looks at me like I’m crazy. It reminds me of her first day here, and seeing her so flustered, with her big, wondering eyes and lips pouted in frustration brings out that sick part of me that can’t help but take advantage of it.

  “I’ve killed more people than I can count,” I utter slowly. “And I’m about to kill at least one more. I will never, ever be okay, and it’s not something you should be worrying about. You’re gonna walk out this door, get into a cab, and forget all about this. It’s in your best interest to never mention my name again. Understood?” She stares at me silently, as stubborn as ever. “You’ll know when it’s over from your friends. There’s three grand in the bag. It’s enough to wait it out at some motel. If this…” I trail off, searching for a better way to say it. “If I fuck this up, they’ll come after you. Trust me, with their methods, it’s best if I don’t know anything about where you’re going. Start packing. And put some dark glasses on before we leave.”

  She nods once, still avoiding my gaze. I walk out of the room wondering if she’s not telling me something, only to scold myself for caring about it. In a few minutes, she’ll be gone forever. The thought should bring me relief, but all I think about is that maybe I’m the fool here. At least, she can admit that she’s not ready to say goodbye.

  We meet by the apartment door in five minutes. I look her over – jeans, a gray hoodie, and big sunglasses that will make her pretty much unrecognizable, hanging from her collar.

  She brushes past me like I’m invisible, but I catch her in the doorway as some momentary weakness overtakes my body. Her frowned gaze falls on my hand as it wraps around her shoulder.

  “Your hair,” I say, putting down the rifle case to free my right hand.

  She watches my every move as I reach up and take off her hair tie, then run my fingers through her hair to smooth it down. Every time it happens, it’s like a spell – she comes too close or looks at me in a certain way, and suddenly I’m helpless, bound by some impulse I can’t control. There’s a voice in the back of my head telling me to take it all in, this moment, the image of her looking up at me, the warmth of her body next to mine. She shivers slightly when my palm brushes her neck, and her eyes flutter closed for a split moment as I run my fingers through her hair one last time before hiding it under the hood.

  “This is better,” I murmur through the dry throat.

  She gives me an accusing look and steps outside, pausing when her eyes fall on the rifle case at my feet. I wait for her to say something, but she just keeps walking down the stairs, and I lock up before following her outside.

  The day is bright and hot, and I can hear her take a deep breath as she steps onto the porch. I walk past her when she stops uncertainly by the door, and put the rifle in the trunk, feeling her staring at my back.

  “Put on your glasses. I don’t know if Dwight knows where I am. He can’t find out you’ve been here all this time.”

  She gives me an annoyed look, but obeys, putting on her glasses. “So this is goodbye?”

  I shrug my shoulders, pushing my hair back from my face. “I guess so. Stay safe.”

  “You too.”

  I wait for her to leave, but she just stands there, making it impossible not to stare at her as I get into the driver’s seat and pull out of the narrow driveway.

  The image of her haunts my rearview mirror until I turn right and focus on the road, frowning at my distracted state of mind. The radio brings nothing but irritation, but I keep flipping the channels, determined to find peace while I drive. Maybe if I just admit to myself that I didn’t want Jenna to leave, it’ll be easier to get over it.

  The hours on the road pass in a blur, and I almost miss the turn to the secluded area where the villa sits at the foot of a small hill, hidden under giant palm leaves. The Jeep grumbles as I drive it off the road and into a small grove around the hill. A few trees and some scrub at the top are just enough for a cover, so I don’t waste any time looking for the perfect spot. I grab the rifle and lock the car.

  The climb only takes five minutes, and the moment I reach the top and crouch in the shrubs to observe the area, I see the place is just what I need. If not for another hill to my right, it would’ve been perfect. I take my time searching for anyone hiding in the trees through my binoculars before turning my eyes to the villa.

  The two guards by the front gate are doing a lousy job, ogling a young, busty cleaning lady that’s too busy sweeping a veranda to see them stare. The building itself is shaped like a horseshoe, with a big pa
tio and a round pool in the center. The lounge chairs are hidden under big white umbrellas, so I can’t get a good look at the two people by the pool, but I’m prepared to wait.

  I clear a patch of ground away from thorny bushes and lie down on my stomach, propping myself on the elbows. Until I get a visual on Hunt, the rifle stays in the case. Even then, I’ll still need to find a good moment for taking him out. If he’s there at all, the voice in my head reminds me that all this is nothing but a theory.

  Someone walks out of the glass doors, and my heart skips a beat excitedly when I see Marquez. Dressed in white pants and an unbuttoned shirt, he grins at someone and saunters to join them by the pool. A single tattooed hand reaches out from under the umbrella and puts a glass on a small table nearby. Hunt doesn’t have any tattoos on his hands, so I turn my eyes to the other chair, while Marquez sits beside it.

  They chat for a few minutes, until he turns around, as if someone has called out to him from the house. He nods and rises to his feet, disappearing back in the house. A minute later, the other man stands up and dives into the pool. My heartbeat quickens as I watch him swim across the pool and resurface on the other side.

  It’s him. Anthony fucking Hunt, hanging carelessly at his friend’s villa all this time, as if it’s the best plan he could come up with. What a fool.

  I drop the binoculars and reach for the rifle, taking it out and assembling it in a few seconds. Hunt is standing by the pool, drying off in the sun, by the time I look at him again through the scope. He’s of average height, a wiry man with sleek black hair. The other man is still there, and the sun won’t be down for hours, so I wait for a better moment. No eye witnesses would be ideal, but I’ll settle for no one watching him closely so they don’t see where the bullet came from.

  My leg cramps up suddenly, and I roll onto my side just as something tears into my left arm, whistling past me with a painfully familiar sound.

  I duck and crawl farther into the bushes as another bullet whizzes above me, not believing my ears. Fucking woods! I peer at the trees through the leaves, but there’s no point in trying to take out the sniper, because he’s obviously got a better position than me.