by Peach, Hanna
“I never meant for it to go this far.”
A single hot tear escapes my eye and it sears my skin as it rolls down my cheek. He cringes when he sees it and looks away. I take this opportunity to glance down at his gun. His fingers grip it lightly, the barrel pointed towards me. I’m too far away to have a chance at surprising him and getting the gun off him.
“I knew I shouldn’t have ever come near you,” he whispers, almost to himself. “It just made everything… harder.”
I understand now. Caden’s assignment from Jacob must have been to find me and kill me. He found me, but why didn’t he kill me?
“Why did you approach me then? Why didn’t you just do what you needed to do, Caden? It would have been kinder.”
Yes, it would have been kinder for him to just kill me than to shred up my heart and my soul like this. Or perhaps this was Jacob’s point. To destroy me first. First my heart, then my soul, and then – and only then – would Caden be allowed to destroy my body, perhaps torture me first before ending my life. Or maybe Jacob was the one who would torture me after Caden brought me in?
I can see the conflict going on inside him through the cracks in his façade. Whoever Caden Thaine really is, he isn’t heartless. I can see this clearly in the crinkle at the corner of his eyes. I can see it in the dejected slump of his arm holding his gun. However much Caden has bound me to him, however much he has affected me, I have affected him, too.
There are only two ways I am leaving this place: of my own free will – which means Caden would have to die or let me go – or in a body bag. I am not being taken to Jacob. Never. I shiver internally at the thought.
If I keep Caden talking, I have a chance to get out alive.
“Why, Caden?”
“I… I just wanted to trail you first. To make sure you were who I thought you were. You hide yourself well, you know. No bank accounts, no phone contracts, no gym contracts. Your nursing training meant that you could patch yourself up for most things, so you could stay out of hospitals. You live alone and your apartment rentals are paid in cash, which include your utilities, all your jobs are cash in hand...”
“So how did you find me?”
“It doesn’t matter who you are, when you go on the run you’ll try to keep some connection of your old life – family, friends, habits. I started with your grandparents.”
I flush. “If you hurt them−”
Caden had the decency to look horrified. “No. I would never. I befriended them, became their gardener and handyman, giving me access to their house.” And their trust. Sick bastard. “I intercepted your cards. Robert Frost. I narrowed down this city by the postmarks on the cards.”
“How? I always sent them from cities other than the one I was in.”
“I know. But humans are pattern-makers. Even when we try to be random, we end up making patterns. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but you were sending the cards from cities within a two hour drive from the city you were living in. When I pinned all the postmarks on a map it made a cluster and your city was in the center.”
Shit. I never thought of this. I thought I was being so clever making sure I was sending the cards from different places.
“And when you narrowed down the city?”
“People on the run will usually keep their habits to retain something comforting from their old life. I knew from your file that you went to kickboxing regularly. I began to hang out at the kickboxing clubs and gyms that provided casual memberships in this city. And I knew there were only a limited number of places you could work as unskilled labor. Mainly bars, clubs. And even fewer of them who take on employees cash in hand. So I scoped out these places. It was only a matter of time before I found you. A few times you moved before I found you and I had to start again. But I got lucky this time, with this city.”
“Persistent,” I say bitterly.
“I had time.”
“How long had you been looking?”
“Almost three years.”
My heart feels brittle with hopeless realization. Jacob ordered this man to search for me for three years. My life was a ticking time bomb. It was only a matter of time before it all caught up with me and the detonator exploded. Like right now. Even if I got away from Caden I would never be safe. Jacob would never stop looking.
I say nothing, leaving a silence for him to fill.
He continues, “I knew for sure you were who I thought you were the night that we met and I got a chance to see your face close up. You can change your hair and harden your body but… you can’t mask those eyes.”
He puts his palms to his face, even the one holding his gun and rubs his eyes. Caden hasn’t slept at all, I realize. I can use this to my advantage. He slumps back and relaxes his arm out to the side so his hand holding the gun hangs over the arm of the chair. I plant my feet on the carpet as I sit on the edge of the bed and prepare myself.
He continues, “At first I just wanted to see what you knew. I never meant to get involved.”
I lunge at him. My right elbow aims for his neck while my left elbow drops down on his arm. I hear him drop the gun and it thuds on the floor beside us. The force of my lunge knocks the chair back and we start to topple. As we go down, his arm raises up to push my forearm away from him.
We grapple on the floor for the gun, scrambling over the chair and onto the floor. I almost have it. I reach for it. But his limbs are longer than mine and he manages to push the gun just out of reach of my hand before he curls his fingers around the handle. It’s over. I lost. I lay back limp on the floor. I am tired of fighting and losing. With Jacob. With Caden.
“Why the bloody hell did you do that?” he mutters as he pulls himself up from the floor.
He steps closer so that he is towering over me. I realize I am still on the floor. Like this is an execution. I won’t die on the floor like a dog. I won’t. I push myself to sitting. I try to push up more, but my legs are shaking so much they collapse and I fall to my knees. I don’t know how I am going to stand, but I’m going to stand. God dammit, if I am going to die, I’m going to die standing.
For some odd reason he puts out his hand as if to help me up. Maybe he has seen the defiance in my eyes and my refusal to die on my knees. I slap his hand out of the way. I don’t want his fucking help. I grab at the bed and use it to pull myself to my feet. Somehow I stand on my own. I don’t know how because my legs feel like jelly. I think I am running on pure defiant, stubborn determination. I shove my chin in the air and clench my jaw to try to stop my teeth from chattering. I’m not ready to die.
“Go on,” I hiss through my teeth, “kill me then. Get it over with. Just fucking do it.”
His face contorts. “Kill you? I’m not going to kill you, kitten.”
“Well, you might as well because I am not letting you take me to Jacob. I’ll die before that happens.”
His face twists. “Why the fuck would I take you to Jacob after I just saved you from him?”
“Saved me from him?”
“I knew you were hiding in that crate behind all those bags of coffee. I told them that the warehouse was empty so you had a chance of getting away.”
“What?”
Then his face breaks open with a look of realization. “You think… you said you knew everything. You don’t know everything.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Kitten, I’m a cop. I’ve been working undercover to lure out that piece of shit since he went into hiding. When you said you knew everything, I thought you knew this.”
My world shifts. It feels like someone has turned a box inside me upside down and everything is rattling and rolling as it finds its new equilibrium. Like that little toy with small metal balls and holes where you have to tilt the game board around until all the balls fall in the holes with a click, click.
Then there is a silence while everything settles.
He’s a cop.
Undercover.
And it all makes sens
e again. His double identity, his working with the Tyrells. And me. He was following me to see whether I still had any contact with Jacob. To see whether I would lead him to Jacob.
Which still means I was a job. He was using me to get to Jacob. I was bait. Look at me, wriggling so willingly on his hook. I flush. Am I so starved for love that I would give my heart away to the first man who gave me any real attention?
Apparently so.
I think to the picture of the little girl in his wallet. She is his life outside of this mess. When he finishes this job he gets to go back to his life, but I can’t. I can never leave. This mess is my life. This is my life and there is only one way out for me, it seems.
“I need to get you out of here and somewhere safe,” he continues. “You can’t stay in this city, not now that Jacob’s men are all on the lookout for you.”
“Hah! If you bring me in, it’s only a matter of time before Jacob gets to me. No cell is ever going to keep him out. Excuse me if I don’t exactly trust cops.”
He makes an exasperated noise. “I’m not bringing you in. My position undercover hasn’t been compromised and I’ve only just managed to get Jacob’s men to trust me, so I’m not risking taking you to a police station. I’ll take you to a safehouse somewhere.”
I tense. So it’s not about my safety, it’s about the job. My stomach squeezes. It’s always been about the job. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll take my chances on my own.”
Caden narrows his eyes. “Don’t argue with me. You have no money, no means, nothing. You’re coming with me.”
“I have money. In my backpack.” Shit, my backpack. I narrow my eyes at Caden. “What did you do with my backpack?”
“I didn’t take anything else with me from Dixie’s except for you.”
“That’s fine. I can go home and grab my clothes and cash. The only reason I didn’t go back before is because I thought you might find me there. Now I know that you’re not trying to kill me – except maybe for annoying me to death – I can go back and grab my stash of cash and some clothes.”
“You can’t go back to your apartment. Jacob’s men will have found it by now.”
“How? You said yourself I’m careful.”
“Your car. Before I left them they had found your car.”
I snort. “They can’t find me from just the car.”
“Did you register it in your name?”
I give him a look. “Do I look stupid?”
“Do you have a GPS?”
“Yes but…” I realize that all my previous driving history will be stored into the GPS. Like my drive from my apartment to Navajo Valley and the drive from Midnight Falls to my apartment. Caden is right. I can’t go back to my apartment. “I’ll figure something out, but I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Yes, you are.”
I shake my head. “No fucking way. You’re gonna have to shoot me first.”
Click.
“Don’t make me, kitten.”
I tense for a second. He wouldn’t. I turn my head towards him, filled with disbelief. But he is holding the barrel of the gun aimed at me. Then a thought strikes me. He’s a cop. I’m a material witness. He can’t shoot me.
I force myself to laugh. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
I can see the cracks in his façade and notice his gun wavering. No, he won’t shoot me. But it would make me feel better if I had my own weapon. I remember the gun he keeps under the sink. Would it still be there? I turn around and head to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” he demands. I can hear him storming after me.
“To pee.” I spin just inside the bathroom and try to block his way in. He stops inches from me. His body almost takes up the whole doorframe. I hate that heat still licks at me when I eye the width of his shoulders. I hate that I have to look up at him to meet his gaze. I hate that I feel so small standing before him. I fucking hate that he makes me want to let him protect me.
No. I have to protect myself. I am the only one I have ever been able to count on.
“What?” I snark. “You want to watch me pee? Is this another unorthodox sex thing?”
He flinches with visible pain and I feel a stab of guilt in my gut. Then his features harden. “Don’t lock the door. And don’t take too long.”
Fuck him. And his orders.
I slam the door in his face. And turn the lock just to spite him. With smug satisfaction, I hear him cursing at me outside.
First I turn on the tap so that the sound of running water will cover up any noises I make. I open the cupboard and crouch down. Thank God. The gun is still there. I slowly pull one end of the tape until the gun is loose. Now that I have it in my hands I can see it’s a 9mm Smith and Wesson M&P. I check the cartridge. All ten rounds are loaded.
I’m still wearing this ridiculous off-the-shoulder shirt which shows off some of my belly, so I can’t tuck the gun into my waistband. But luckily these sweatpants are baggy enough for me to put the gun in my pocket. I check myself in the mirror and am satisfied that the gun bulge doesn’t show.
I flush the toilet and while the water is rushing I close the cupboard back up. I take my time in washing my hands and splash water on my face before turning off the tap. As I glance up at the mirror and catch my reflection I see the aching sadness hidden underneath the anger in her eyes. My eyes.
I wipe my face and firm up my resolve. I open the door. Caden is still standing at the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking furious. “I thought I told you not to lock the door.”
I cross my arms and mimic his stance. “You gonna stand here and block my way all night? We’re wasting time. I’m sure your friends are missing you by now.”
He makes an exasperated noise. “They’re not my friends. And I’m not the one fucking around, Miss I-gotta-go-pee.”
I roll my eyes and stalk past him. “Whatever.”
I pause when I notice an overnight bag on the bed which hadn’t been there before. That looks like my bag from my apartment; light blue with a top zip, two pale handles and a strap. I stride over to it and unzip the top of the bag.
“No, that’s fine. Just look through whatever you want,” Caden mutters as he steps to my side.
I ignore him. Inside the bag are a few of my shirts and pants as well as a pair of my sneakers, deodorant and my toothbrush. I frown.
Caden’s voice is soft when he speaks again, “I went by your place first, just in case. I picked up some of your stuff. I thought you might need it when I found you. You should put your shoes on.”
My chest clenches as my fingers trail one of my shoes before I take them out and slip them onto my feet. His thoughtfulness hurts.
“You kept my notes,” he says quietly. “All of them.”
My cheeks flame. He found them all in my bedside drawer. “So? Don’t embarrass yourself by making a bigger deal out of it than it is.”
“Kitten−”
“Now that I have my stuff I’ll be on my way.”
I rezip the bag and grab the handles with my left hand. I barely blink before a line of cold metal clamps around my wrist.
Click.
I stare down at the metal bracelet around my wrist and follow the small chain to the other bracelet which he closes around his right wrist.
Muthafucker.
He has cuffed us together.
“Take this off now,” I demand through gritted teeth.
“Nope.”
I let out a long string of curse words which only serves to make Caden smirk. “Colorful. Very ladylike.”
I start to throw punches at him with my free hand, which he blocks with his free arm. “Do it now. I am not staying cuffed to you.”
“No can do.” He manages to kick out one of my feet, making me unstable. Before I can right myself he has spun me and I find myself with my back against his chest and his thick arm around me. My skin alights at his nearness and I feel myself shudder internally. “Even if I wanted to uncuff you
from my side, which I don’t by the way, I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“I left the key in the car.”
Bastard. But my imagination starts running on a different track. Caden. Me. Cuffed together. He spins me out and pushes me back to the bed, falling down after me. I can feel his weight crushing me along the length of my body and his erection pressing at my thigh. The familiar ache throbs to life in me. God damn him. How can he still make me want him so much? Even after everything. He groans against the pulse in my neck. “See what you do to me, kitten.” He grabs my cuffed hand and places it on his…
Dammit. I blink and stare at the empty bed in front of me. I can’t be this close to Caden. I need to get away from him. “Let go of me.” I struggle against him. I look down and try and slam my heel into his instep, but he just lifts me up so my feet are helplessly dangling off the floor. I wriggle harder, trying to slip loose from his grip. I can’t get loose. I let out another string of curse words directed at him.
He sighs. “Look, you can either walk out of here with me peacefully or I can knock you unconscious and carry you out.”
Fury swirls inside me and mixes unabashedly with heat. “Fuck you.”
“Okay, unconscious it is.” He reaches up to my neck with his free hand. Dammit. I will not be carried out of here like some rolled-up rug. I resign myself to give in. I’m not going to win this. Not at this moment. I need to pick my battles.
“Okay, okay,” I gasp out. “I’ll come peacefully.”
“You sure?” I can hear the disbelief in his voice.
I inject as much submission as I can bear into my voice. “Yes. I won’t cause any trouble.”
“Why do I not believe you?” he mutters as he slowly sets me down and releases me. He grabs my bag with his left hand.
I try to snatch it off him. “I can carry my own damn bag.”
He mutters under his breath and I catch the words “stubborn” and “pain-in-the-ass” as he swings the bag out of my reach and over his head so that the long strap slings over his body and rests on his back. He starts for the door, not bothering to shorten his long strides, and he drags me along with him. I stumble after him.
