Cage

by Madison Stevens

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Thank You

  Also By

  Author Bio

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents depicted in this work are of the author’s imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2015 Madison Stevens

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cage (Allen Securities #5)

  by

  Madison Stevens

  Cage spent most of his life as a carefree bachelor. It was a good life with no attachments and a solid job working with his brothers to catch bad guys. Everything changed in an instant when he was crippled on the job, and he watched a man die to save his life.

  Now, months later, Cage is still confronting the demons of self-worth and his guilt over the other man’s death, along with growing feelings for Whitney, an attractive vet who seems to think he’s still a shallow playboy.

  Whitney doesn't want to get tangled up with a playboy. She thinks she knows Cage’s type and would rather be alone than risk her heart getting torn apart.

  When someone starts leaving strange items at her vet clinic, she finds the only man she can trust to help is the one man she’s afraid of getting to know.

  The two are forced to confront their feelings as they race to figure out why Whitney is being targeted.

  Chapter One

  Cage made his way through the quiet graveyard. The damp grass squished beneath his boots with each step. The recent spring rain only served to make the whole trip that much more uncomfortable.

  He stopped at a plain grave standing in the back of the cemetery. The headstone stood near a gravel road, which offered the potential for more traffic. Despite that, Cage doubted the place saw many visitors.

  The brief weather respite gave way to more drops falling from the darkened sky. Rain slipped down the gray stone and wove its way along the letters engraved there: CARLOS FLORES.

  The flowers in Cage’s hand seemed heavy as he stared at the name. It had been nearly two months since the woods and the incident, and yet it was as fresh in his mind as if it happened just moments ago. A simple damn job that went south.

  All they had to do was stop the idiots from setting the mountain on fire. That was it. The task had seemed like such an easy thing to pull off compared to a lot of jobs they’d had in the past. Cage and Reed were supposed to just go in and knock a few heads together. Just another day at the office. Nothing they hadn’t done before. Maybe not on a mountain, but same basic job.

  But Carlos had called and insisted on coming. They knew having him tag along was beyond a bad idea, but they had given in to the older man. After all, they all understood his position. He was fighting for his life.

  He had to regain control of the Los Malos, or his days were numbered in the gang. Old ex-leaders didn’t tend to last long. If you got booted from your position, you were weak. And gangs didn’t need the weak, especially weak old men who didn’t like the gang’s plans.

  So the old man came along.

  Cage tightened his free hand into a fist as the details replayed themselves in his mind.

  The whole thing had gone well at first. Being a thug wasn’t the same thing as having discipline, especially discipline under fire. Most of the Los Malos weren’t all that great with a gun. In the firefight, they were so worried about getting hit, they barely fired, and the few that did kept spraying bullets so wide Cage thought they’d been lucky to hit a freaking bus. Most of the tough guys fled on their bikes within the first ten minutes, despite outnumbering Reed, Cage and Carlos.

  There had been only two left. Carlos had said they were the craftier ones. Actually tough. He had been right.

  The two men had the advantage with the high ground and knew how to use it. They kept laying down fire, barely visible. No matter how good a shot Cage or Reed might have been, they needed a damn target to hit. The bikers, as if sensing the frustration, poured down even more bullets in a frenzy.

  A few of the fleeing bikers found their balls and came back. So they ended with up four guys with the freaking high ground.

  Then everything went wrong. Too damn wrong.

  A wild bullet ripped through his knee. Still filled with adrenaline, Cage nailed the one that hit him in the upper left arm. The bastard deserved more than the flesh wound that he got, but the pain in his knee turned Cage’s aim to shit. After his shot, he dropped to the ground, unable to stand, trying to gut-check his way through agony.

  It was a split second. Not even enough time for him to think about it. A second shot rang through the air. Carlos turned as a bullet pierced his back.

  Everything stilled around Cage as the old biker fell. In that moment, Cage recognized the truth. Carlos knew the shot was coming and stepped in front. He could’ve left Cage. Could’ve ran. The bikers would have taken the easy kill, the guy on the ground with a bullet in his knee.

  Instead, Carlos took the bullet, the second bullet meant for Cage.

  Cage squeezed off a quick shot, despite his pain, wounding another of the bikers. Reed took the opportunity to take out two more. The last guy jumped down, maybe hoping to get a final kill off of Cage, but Reed put a bullet in him.

  Cage could still see the look on the old man’s face as he fell to the ground. The look still haunted him at night.

  He squeezed the flower stems and took in several deep breaths. This wasn’t about the look on Carlos’s face. Cage was going to have to put it out of his mind if he hoped to make it through this.

  Today was about paying respects. Something he hadn’t been able to do since they got back. He’d missed the funeral and had only been able to send flowers. It wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what Carlos was owed for his sacrifice.

  Cage loosened the grip he had on the flowers and leaned forward to place them against the grave.

  His leg shook a little as he placed too much weight on it.

  “Shit,” he grunted and caught himself by grabbing the headstone.

  Sweat beaded against his head, and he breathed in hard. His damn knee wasn’t healing like he expected, but there was no helping it as the whole joint had been shattered. The doctor told him he was lucky to still be able to walk.

  He looked down at his hand gripping the cold stone and let out a harsh laugh. The doctor was likely right, all things considered.

  “Gotta save me again.” He gave a sad smile. “I always knew you were a show-off.”

  The smile slid from his face as he pushed himself back to standing and sighed.

  Cage turned his face toward the sky. The earlier drizzle had given way to fat drops, but he stood like that for a moment, letting the cold water hit his face and take the sting from the day away.

  After a moment he turned back to the stone and nodded. It might not mean much, but he wouldn’t let the old man’s death be for nothing. Cage would make a life enough for two people. He owed it to Carlos.


  When he turned to head back to the car, his knee pulsed.

  “Fucking rain,” he muttered and gritted past the pain.

  The car wasn’t far away. He could make it.

  Slowly, he made his way back and gripped the passenger door tightly. Getting things open and getting around had become a constant struggle.

  “Should’ve brought the cane like I said,” Trent said when he opened the door from the inside, his blue eyes filled with reproach.

  Harley barked once from the backseat and then settled down. Nothing like a three-legged mastiff to take your mind off things.

  Still sporting his post-military cut, the blond-haired Trent looked more like he was ready to head out on another SEAL mission rather than waiting on Cage’s sorry ass to hobble back to the car.

  Cage ignored the comment. He was getting good at that. Everyone was just trying to help, but he’d never build strength in his knee if he was always relying on something to help him walk. He didn’t need that shit. He’d fight his way back.

  “You can take the man out of the military, but you can’t take the boss out of the man,” Cage said, grinning at the longtime family friend.

  Trent started the car and shook his head.

  “What can I say? Some of us were just born to boss people around.”

  They wound their way through the cemetery. The rain beat quietly against the windows as the grave slowly disappeared in the mirror.

  “You okay?” Trent asked quietly.

  Everyone had been so good about avoiding the topic and giving Cage his space, except Trent. He’d only been out of the military for a few weeks but seemed to understand the situation from the start. Cage had to think it was from all the times that he’d seen friends sent home in a coffin.

  Or maybe it was because of Trent’s own experience. He’d been hit by a sniper. The shot tore through the side of his knee. Unlike Cage, his recovery had been better. Still hadn’t made much difference with the SEALs, but it was understandable. They couldn’t have him seizing up on a mission against some terrorists.

  He looked over at the older man. As much as Cage had been through, Trent had been through worse, including losing his brother while he was still in school.

  “I’m fine,” Cage said. Talking about what had happened wasn’t going to change anything. He just needed to move on. “When’s the parole hearing?”

  Trent’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  “Three weeks,” Trent said. All the playfulness from earlier vanished.

  Nearly ten years had passed since Trent’s brother, Paul, had been murdered trying to save a teen girl from being raped. After all those years, it was the first time the bastard was up for parole. Trent planned on making sure that didn’t happen. With the recent upswing in crime, no one was feeling all that confident about how things would turn out.

  “We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Cage said.

  Trent nodded and stayed quiet, but Cage knew better. The gravity of the situation was not lost on any of them. It didn’t help that Trent’s sister and father were still in the area. No one thought any of them would be able to handle it if Paul’s killer were allowed to roam free.

  Cage sighed. They had all been through so much over the years. He could just hope that they all found some sort of peace.

  He thought about his own brothers. In the last year, a lot of them had found happiness. Cage’s mind drifted to the pretty vet he’d be seeing later. Not that he had a chance with her. Even before he’d been shot, Whitney wanted nothing to do with him. He didn’t really expect things to have changed with her despite how much he had changed.

  How could she know all that?

  Two months down because of his knee. He looked down at his throbbing leg and tried not to picture the nasty scars that coated his knee. She wouldn’t see all that with his pants covering it. All she would see was his walk.

  Cage clenched his fist. He was more than his stupid knee.

  Harley leaned over the seat and placed his head on Cage’s shoulder as if he could sense his pain.

  The sweet dog licked the side of Cage’s face. He smiled.

  Everything would go fine. He would go to the vet appointment and show Whitney the man he was. He’d prove to her that she should be with and that he was worth it.

  No big deal.

  Chapter Two

  Whitney pulled her lab coat a little tighter and rubbed her hands together. The crisp, chilly air nipped at her. The temperature was a bit colder than it had been. It seemed like spring was taking longer to arrive. After the long winter, she was just about done with all the cold weather. It was enough to make her want to move to some place warm. Maybe Arizona.

  She stopped at a cage where a little beagle lay. She had only found him this morning. The poor thing had been sprawled out on the back steps of the office. She could only guess that the person who hit him had placed him there. No one in the neighborhood seemed to know the little guy, and she was sure he was a runaway.

  The cage squeaked a little as she pinched the locks together and opened the door. His tail thumped against the towel he was lying on, and she couldn’t help but smile. The poor little guy had been through hell but still wanted someone to pet him. The resilience of animals always amazed her.

  “Hey, Hank,” she said and scratched the dog behind his ear.

  He was lucky really. A dog that size usually didn’t stand a chance against a car. Her best guess was that the car just clipped him. He had no broken bones, only some swelling and bruising around some ribs.

  Mostly, though, he was fatigued. The pads on his feet were cracked and bleeding. He was coated in a layer of filth and grime. She needed to get him cleaned up, but there hadn’t been time yet.

  He also had a few major cuts on him, which she assumed were from other animals. She had checked for a chip but found nothing.

  Whitney stroked his soft ears and sighed as her auburn hair slipped in front of her face. The pup was going to live, but she couldn’t keep doing this. If she took in every stray, she was going to be the crazy old lady living by herself with her zoo.

  Hank nuzzled her hand and swiped his warm puppy tongue across her palm.

  “You don’t fight fair.”

  His tail thumped the towel a few more times, and she sighed. She was totally getting a new puppy.

  “Any news on him?” Lisa said as she came from around the corner.

  Whitney shook her head.

  “I just can’t figure it out,” she said and pulled her hand back. The cage rattled a little as she closed it, but the dog didn’t seem to mind.

  “I know,” Lisa said and whipped off the gloves she was wearing. Her long brown hair swung against her back as she did so. “You’d think fur parents would know better.”

  Whitney shook her head.

  “It’s not that,” she said and glanced back to the sleeping puppy. “I’m just sure he’s not a street dog. He just doesn’t have that feel.”

  Lisa snorted. “What? Is he missing the tattoos that give him his cred?”

  Whitney grinned back. She knew hiring the vet tech from where she volunteered would be a great idea. They had been working for years together, and Whitney knew Lisa was more than capable. Not only that, she needed the help. Things were picking up, and Whitney needed to count on someone else besides Sharon, her cranky but efficient receptionist.

  “He’s young,” Whitney said. “And he just seems soft.”

  Lisa raised an eyebrow. “You know you spend too much time around animals, don’t you?”

  Whitney huffed and walked to the fridge around the corner to grab her water bottle. “It’s my job. Of course I do. What would you have me do?”

  She took a drink from the water bottle and slammed the fridge shut.

  “Get laid,” Lisa said with a shrug.

  The water slipped down the wrong way, and Whitney coughed, trying to take in a breath.

  “What?” she finally said after managing to avoid drown
ing while standing.

  Lisa handed her a paper towel and sighed. “When was the last time you had a date?”

  Whitney wiped off her mouth and scowled at Lisa. “What do you mean? I went for coffee with Ted just the other day after we finished our rotation.”

  This time it was Lisa’s turn to frown, after a little eye roll.

  “I mean with a man you are actually interested in,” Lisa said and paused for a moment. “Interested in sexually, that is.”

  Whitney started to open her mouth to protest but snapped it shut.

  She liked Ted. She really did. He was nice and polite. They had tons to talk about since they were both veterinarians, but sexually? Not a thing. Not even a little zing. Whitney had thought that if she got to know him, maybe there would be something, but it was almost the opposite.

  The more she knew him, the less interested she was in being with him. There was no chemistry, no hint of sparks.

  “I just don’t understand,” Lisa said, following Whitney out of the little break room and back into a large room in the back of the clinic. “If you aren’t interested in him like that, why do you keep seeing him? You’re just wasting both your time and his. Even if he’s not hot to get into your pants immediately, he’s going to eventually want a physical relationship.”

  Whitney stopped over by a cage to look at the cat inside. She picked up the clipboard and checked all the recent vitals.

  Trying to explain to others why she acted the way she did was nearly impossible. What was she supposed to tell them? That her dad, who she loved dearly, liked to run around on her mother? That he and her mother had been so in love with love they hadn’t thought about the long-term implications?

  She shook her head. There was no way she could say that. Some things other people just didn’t need to know.

  “Ted is a solid man,” Whitney said firmly and turned to look at Lisa. “I just need a little companionship. Not everything is about sex.”

  Lisa shook her long hair and crossed her arms. “You aren’t doing either of you any favors. Trust me. End it soon before anyone gets too invested the wrong way with the wrong expectations.”