Dirty Bird (Caged #2)

by M Dauphin

  "Whatever I can do. I'm here for you, forever." I reach my other hand to his cheek.

  The only way I know to help is to give him what most men want. As I straddle him and softly kiss at his lips, he grips me harder, pressing our mouths together harder. His hands roam down to my ass and then he suddenly stops.

  "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. His breathing slows down and he pulls me tighter to him, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers.

  I'm not sure why he's apologizing but I thread my fingers through his hair until I feel the bounce of his chest. Is he fucking crying?

  "Ben?" I blurt and grab his face, lifting it so I can see him and I see the tears. Jesus. "Oh, honey." I kiss him once then pull him to my chest, kissing his head.

  I'm not sure I've ever seen a grown man cry for something other than he was about to die.

  I hold him against me for what feels like an hour, though it's probably only five or ten minutes, and he weeps. I've known his respect for his father was deep, but I'm shocked to see him cry like this. As he starts to calm down, he pulls back and his grip around me loosens. As he begins to shuffle, I have no choice but to get off him and move quickly before he stands and starts to pace.

  "Everything." He huffs, wiping his face as he paces the room. 'It's just all so fucked now." He runs his hands through his hair and pauses pacing to glance over at me. "I had a plan, love. I had a plan, and my plan didn't include him dying this soon. I'm not ready. There's so much more I wanted to do and I wanted to do it all with you, Megan. Now... now what? Shit, even my damn proposal has been ruined by this last week." He curses and starts pacing again, hands shoved in his pockets.

  Proposal? He better be proposing how to get me the fuck out of this basement.

  "Ben." I stand. "Ben." Grabbing his arm so he stops moving, I make him look at me. "I'm still here and we'll still do anything you want.Together. I'm here for you." I pull him into a hug. "What's this proposal? For Jasper?"

  His body stiffens and he takes a few deep breaths before slowly backing away from me. By the way he's looking at me I can bet it's not a fucking proposal for Jasper.

  "Megan, love." He pauses. "I wanted to do this all differently. I had so much planned out for how I was going to do this, but now, nothing seems that special anymore." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small black box.

  I feared this was his propsal but I didn't think the man was in this deep yet. My eyes dart toward the camera in the corner before I look back at the box in his hand, forcing my body to hold still and not run from this insanity. Will I marry Ben Vig? I already planned for this but under faked circumstances. Am I still faking it?

  "Love of my life." He cracks open the box toreveal a pearl engagement ring surrounded by tiny sparkling diamonds.All set in a platinum band. "Will you marry me?" He looks at me nervously and when I don't respond right away he starts talking again. "I know this is not how you probably envisioned it. I never meant for this to happen this way. When my dad came to me last year with it I had full plans to court you and make you fall in love with me without the arrangement being forced upon us. I don't want you to feel like I'm doing this because I have to, Megan. My dad's gone," he whispers. "I make the rules now. But I know I am ready to marry you, arrangement or not."

  The look in his eyes is so desperate and lost, those are two emotions I am familiar with and know when looking into a persons' face. But there's another emotion, and I can't help but wonder if that's the look of love.

  "Listen, I'm sorry," he huffs, closing the box and shoving it back in his pocket. "I'll do better. I promise, I'll make you want to be mine…one day. I'm sorry. I guess I thought we had something..." He trails off and hangs his head.

  "No, Ben." I grab his hands and pull him toward me. My options are limited in this situation, but I think I'm making the best choice. "Of course we have something. Yes, I'll marry you."

  His face brightens and a smile starts to break through his somber features.

  "Are you sure? Because I don't want you feel like you have to say yes." He gives me a sideways grin, because he knows our deal just as much as I do.

  I put my left hand out and look into his eyes, patiently waiting for the gift he brought me today. He reaches back into his pocket, smiling like a madman, and pulls back out the box. Taking the ring out, he's careful not to drop it as he slides it on my finger.

  "Soon you will be my Megan Vig," he whispers, then pulls me in for a kiss. "I love you, Megan."

  When he pulls away and looks at me expecting a response, I let the smile on my face brighten. "I love you too," I say, kissing him again until I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.

  Looking over Ben's shoulder, I see Luke storming toward us with his jaw tight and face a nice shade of red. I take a step back and Ben turns around, but not before Lucas slows his determined stride and unclenches his jaw.

  "Time's up, Vig," he growls, taking Ben by the arm.

  "I just got here," Ben protests. "It wasn't even a full hour, Ace."

  "Boss man says times up and I listen. We all know who runs this place," he growls, then glances over at me while I pretend to admire my ring. "Let's go."

  "Can I just give my fiancé one more goodbye kiss?" Ben pleads with him, but the grip Lucas has on his arm isn't loosening.

  "Nope," Luke blurts, pulling Ben towards the stairs.

  "Ben, I'll be here for you, honey. I love you!" I call out as Lucas forces him up the steps.

  I just wish Ben would grow some balls and punch him in the face for handling him that way. Lucas Acey is nothing he thinks he is. I wiggle my fingers looking at the ring. And this ring is going to break him.

  ***

  I've been down here so long, I know who's coming by the creak of the steps. Each man, up to and including Bronson, has their own stride when coming down those steps, and right now it's Luke. I'm not looking forward to this because when I saw him three hours ago, as he dragged Ben out of here to his father's funeral, he was pissed.

  I stay on the bed keeping my book tight in my hands, but the words are becoming a blur.

  "Megan," he announces stepping into the room. I don't move, eyes trained on the book in my hands still. "Are you hungry?"

  "Nope," I mumble keeping my gaze locked on the blur of black words against the cream page.

  I hear him take a deep breath then his footsteps come closer to the bed. He takes the book into his hands slowly and closes it, forcing me to look up at him.

  "You haven't eaten all day, Megan. Come on up with me, please. Let's have dinner together." He nods towards the stairs and takes a step back from the bed.

  My eyes dart to the steps. Is this a fucked-up joke? I stare up at him, wondering if he has it in him to actually kill me. That's all this could mean. There's no way he actually means dinner.

  "I'm fine." I open the book again and scoot away from him. I'm not going to die tonight. Not after being down here so fucking long.

  "Jesus Christ, Megs, just get up ok? I made dinner; it's getting cold up there. It's been a long ass fucking day, and I just want to enjoy it with you while sitting at a normal fucking dining room table." He shakes his head at me and starts back up the stairs but I don't hear the door close behind him.

  I don't move. He's not fucking tricking me to my death. No fucking way.

  After sitting in silence for what feels like forever, staring at the wide-open door, I hear his shoes hitting the steps hard as he storms his way back downstairs. He walks over to the bed, no words spoken, and grabs me by the arm. Before I have any time to retaliate, he throws me over his shoulder and starts to stomp back up the steps.

  "Lucas!" I scream

  "If you want to wake our son, you keep screaming like that," he grits out, stomping up the steps. "Otherwise, I'd shut the hell up if I were you."

  "Put me down, now," I demand, quieting my tone. "I swear to god, Lucas! Put me down." He stops moving and practically flips me o
ff him and onto my ass, but grabs my arm before I fall.

  "Don't run," he says with a warning in his eyes.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I ask warily and slowly look around.

  I'm holding his forearm with both hands with the fearful assumption Jasper's going to come from nowhere and attack.

  "I'm hungry. I told you that already but you didn't listen." He glances toward the basement, then back at me. "It's nicer to eat up here."

  "Lucas," I whisper as an overwhelming emotion hits me and I feel like I could cry. I've been a prisoner way too long. It's making me weak. Looking him in the eyes I ask, "Is this really to eat a meal with you? In a dining room? At a table?"

  An odd look crosses his face. "I thought it'd be nice for you to get out of there... feel like a living human being again. The moon's beautiful tonight, too. If dinner goes well, maybe we can take a walk afterwards." He leans in and whispers, "There's nowhere to run out there though, Megs. Don't even let it cross your mind."

  It hasn't left my thoughts since the second we crossed the threshold. But somewhere in this house is the boy I've grown accustomed to considering my son, and I won't leave him willingly.

  "I'm hungry," I quietly state and release my nervous grip on his forearm, trying not to seem so skittish.

  "Right this way." He rests his hand on my lower back and guides me to the formal dining room.

  He wasn't joking when he said he'd made dinner. Two place settings with dinner awaiting. The food on this table is enough to feed us for days. I guess I never really believed him when he said he cooks for himself.

  "Filet mignon." He nods towards the plates and walks to the table, pulling out my chair. "Come on, sit down."

  I sit, still wary about all of this, but I watch as he does the same. My eyes lower to the knife next to my plate then dart to look at him. He stares at the knife a minute before looking at me with a smile. Not a sinister 'I know what you're thinking'. No, this is more 'I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt'. I don't move because the urge I have right now could make my life more of a living hell.

  "You're going to need this to eat," he says, picking up the knife and offering it to me, his eyes never leaving mine.

  I snatch the knife and look away before I start cutting into my food, trying not to over think this meal with him. He wants to get fucked, and I still don't think I'm in the clear from sudden death.

  I enjoy silence, except when there's someone to talk to. This only happened recently when I forced to be alone for so long.

  "What happened to Ben's father?" I know better than to believe B.K. Vig died of natural causes.

  Luke slows his chewing, probably forming his answer carefully, then takes a drink before looking at me.

  "He died." He's staring at me point blank, like that wasn't the stupidest answer he's ever given me.

  "Lucas," I slowly say his name, trying to remain calm. "Who killed B.K. Vig? And why?"

  "Vig had a heart attack, Megan. He died of natural causes, probably because he ate too much damn fast food if ya ask me," he grumbles, shoving another bite of food in his mouth.

  "Are you certain this wasn't some kind of plan to keep me from marrying Ben?" I glance at him then look down at the ring on my finger before I begin to play with the metal I haven't removed since Ben placed it three hours ago.

  He looks at the ring before we lock eyes and I smile softly, looking down at the pearl again. His silverware clanks loudly before he snatches my hand and yanks the ring from my finger, throwing it haphazardly across the room before he picks up his knife and fork then continues to eat.

  "Lucas!" I gasp and look toward the direction he threw it.

  When I go to stand, he kicks my chair leg, making me fall back into my seat.

  "Eat!" he snaps, pointing to my plate with his knife.

  I glance toward the corner again, then pick up my knife and glare at him while I clutch it tight.

  "Good girl," he growls, shoving another bite of meat in his mouth, his eyes never leaving his plate.

  He doesn't acknowledge me again, and before I even take my next bite he's almost done with his meal. He brings me amazing food, nothing this good though, and it's been so long since I've been in a normal setting. I want to enjoy this, so I focus on my food and let the ring slip into the back of my thoughts.

  "How's Bronson's school work?"

  "Good." He nods, finally looking up at me. His jaw twitches and he shakes his head. "Katy's teaching him a ton. I think he's going to be a grade level ahead by the end of this session."

  "Remind me why he needs a homeschool teacher? Is it because I'm sitting locked away in a dungeon all day and must play prisoner, so I can't teach our son? Or is it that you just find me too stupid to properly educate him?"

  He chuckles and sets his utensils down, slowly standing from his seat. Leaning over the table, he locks his eyes with mine. "She's just really fucking good to look at."

  I chuckle and stand from the chair and he immediately stands tall, as if he thinks he's going to have to catch me. "After I find my ring, I'm ready to be returned to the basement, Lucas," I tell him while I head to the corner looking for the large ring around the table in the corner.

  "Hey, come on Megs, I was just fucking with ya," he says walking over to me. He leans down, his hand resting on mine, stopping my searching of the carpet. "You're just too easy to get riled up about her." He grins this lopsided grin and brings my hand to his lips to kiss.

  I pull my hand away. "I don't get riled up over her. The fact my son's being taught by a brainless whore that only wants to fuck his dad is what rubs me the wrong way. I don't care if you're fucking her, Luke. I don't care if you like to look at her. I care you're teaching Bronson that nice tits and ass matters more than his education." I squat down and spot the ring next to the leg of the table.

  Before I slip it on, he gently takes it and puts it into his pocket.

  "I'm not fucking her, Megan. I've already told you that." He walks away, my ring firmly in his pocket, and starts clearing the table silently.

  His jaw is tight as he storms through the double doors into the kitchen. The door to the dining room is open. There's French doors leading out into the dark yard right behind me. I could run and hide for hours before he even found me. As he storms back into the dining room to grab the remainder of the table settings, he doesn't even look at me and goes back into the kitchen, slamming around more dishes. I'm surprised he hasn't broken any yet. And I'm surprised I haven't ran yet. But I stay planted by the small end table, not sure what's gotten into me or why I won't run. Other than Bronson.

  He's searching for something else to clear from the table, but there is nothing.

  "I know you said you're not fucking her, Luke." I clear my throat, not really sure what to say, but it's angered him that I think he is, apparently.

  "Fuck, Megan, can we just drop the whole teacher thing?" He sighs and curses. "This isn't how I wanted tonight to go. I'm fucking sorry I made that comment about her, ok?"

  I rub my temples, getting a headache when I should be feeling elated I'm out of confinement.

  "Lucas." I approach him while he starts picking out wilting flowers from the vase on the table. "How long until you put me back?" I carefully ask.

  He pauses then looks up at me. Instead of answering me, he walks over to the table and picks up his phone, touching a few things on the screen before setting it down. Soft, classical music fills the room almost immediately. He walks back over to me, taking my hand in his and giving me a sad smile.

  "Care to dance?" Not until he pulls me closer and starts moving do I realize he's not kidding.

  "Lucas." I chuckle but move my hand to rest behind his neck as his grabs my hip and pulls me closer.

  I suppose if this is the end for me I'd want to go out ignorantly in bliss, so I lay my head to his chest and close my eyes, dancing for the first time ever in my life.

  "You're not too shabby at this." With my ear to his chest, his deep voice reso
nates through my body. His hand snakes down slowly, resting on my ass.

  "I've never danced," I stupidly admit and fight the annoyance that I'm opening up to him.

  I know he's a snake and I shouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing any more personal information about me, but I can't seem to care right now. This is the life I've been fabricating to Ben since I met him and right now I'm living it with Lucas.

  He pauses, bringing a hand to my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

  "No one's ever taken you dancing?" There's curiosity in the look he's giving me, and when I gently shake my head 'no', he sighs. "I'll take you sometime, Megs. Promise." He lays a kiss on my forehead before going back to his methodical movements.

  I'm torn between paranoia and enjoyment so I tell myself, what do I have to lose? And I enjoy the surreal time with Lucas. All good things must come to an end. I move closer and hold him a little tighter and, for the night, let myself become the woman I've never been and never thought I wanted to be.

  We spend ten minutes moving and swaying in unison before he begins walking me toward the French doors. "Where are we going?" I stare out into the dark night and push away the warning in my gut as he leads me outside.

  He spins me to face him, the moonlight the only bright thing out here, and locks eyes with me. It's mesmerizing, being out here after so long in that basement. The way he's looking at me... it's not the Lucas from earlier at dinner, and I don't want to put words to the emotions I see in his face. He pulls me closer to him, his hand going to the back of my neck and his lips press to mine gently, slowly. There's so much more meaning in his lips tonight. Pulling away, he takes my hand in his and starts walking toward a path near the woods.

  "When I was a boy I used to come out here at night and pretend I was an astronaut," he says, keeping up a steady pace. "That tree over there was always my rocket ship." He points to a massive Oak in the distance and smiles. "This place will be amazing for Bronson to grow up in."

  I stare at his profile, trying my damnedest not to overthink this.

  The man was born a weasel that turned into a snake. How can I believe a word he says? And why do I want to believe there's something actually between us? His behavior tonight is strange, but if I've learned anything about him, he sometimes needs attention, and he fills that need by making a fool out of others. I'm out of the basement though, and I hope to stay out, so I'll play his game.