Cage

by Madison Stevens

  The boy was dirty all over and looked like he hadn’t eaten a good meal in ages. It made her heart ache for him. Whatever had been going on with him was more than most adults could handle.

  Whitney heated up some leftover meatloaf and potatoes. At first he glanced between Cage and Whitney warily, but the smell must have been too much for him to resist. She watched as he inhaled it and only hoped that he was chewing at least a little as he ate. When she offered to get a second plate, Cage frowned at her, but she ignored him. It had been a long night, and she could only guess that it was going to get longer.

  This time she set out three plates. Cage opened his mouth to say something, but she glared at him.

  “Nachos weren’t much of a meal,” she said.

  His face paled a little at being called out, and although she knew she should feel bad, she didn’t. She might forgive him, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hungry.

  They ate in silence, and when they were finished, the boy picked up his plate and set it gently in the sink.

  “I’m going to change,” she said quietly to Cage. “Will you be okay?”

  Cage frowned. “I can handle one punk kid.”

  She looked over to the boy, who now sat in the middle of her living room. Hank snuggled up on his lap.

  “He’s just a boy,” she whispered.

  Cage seemed to relax a little at her words. He limped over to the chair by the door in the living room and sank slowly into it. Despite his brave face, she could see his knee was hurting.

  Whitney sighed and went into the kitchen. She pulled out a zip-top bag and placed some crushed ice inside. It wasn’t the best, but it would do for now.

  When she came back into the room, the boy and man were staring at one another.

  She walked up to Cage and handed him the bag.

  “Use it,” she said and walked back to her bedroom.

  She could hear him grunt in irritation and only hoped he didn’t fight her on this. His ego was so fragile at times.

  In her bedroom, she pulled off the black dress and tossed it onto the bed. She glared at it and the shoes she’d just kicked off. At least she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Whitney sighed and pulled a pair of black yoga pants from the drawer and a V-necked blue shirt. There was no reason to dress up now. She pulled her hair up into a pony tail and looked in the mirror. At least she was comfortable.

  A little cleavage peeked out of the V, but there wasn’t much to do about that.

  She snorted to herself.

  That amount of cleavage was nothing compared to Cage’s other conquests. She was seeing a common theme with his women: big boobs and easy. She couldn’t even begin to guess how she fit into that pattern.

  Whitney sighed and made her way out of the room.

  Whatever was going on between them was on hold until they figured out what the boy was doing. Everything in her said that he was harmless, and when it came to this sort of thing, she tended to trust her gut.

  Cage was still in the chair, his leg raised up on the ottoman. She smiled a little when she saw the bag resting against his leg.

  The boy sat on the floor, still with Hank. His eyes grew heavy and closed every once in a while.

  Not bothering to ask, she got a blanket out of the closet and placed it over the boy.

  He frowned up at her, and she saw the same stubborn streak she’d just seen in Cage. She might have laughed if he didn’t look so pitiful.

  “I don’t need a blanket,” he said and let it fall off his shoulder.

  Hank sat up to see what was going on.

  Whitney shrugged and sat on the couch.

  “Well, it’s for Hank,” she said and placed her bare feet next to Cage’s on the ottoman. “Unless you want him to be cold.”

  The boy looked down at Hank, who smiled and panted happily back at him. The chances of that dog getting cold were slim to none, but she didn’t have a problem stretching the truth to get what she wanted.

  She watched as the boy wrapped the blanket around himself and Hank.

  “What’s your name?” she asked when he was snuggled in.

  The boy looked over to her and then Cage.

  “Alex,” he said.

  She didn’t push. There was no need. He had been seeking her out. He’d talk soon enough.

  A knock came at the door, and Cage rose to answer it.

  Alex tensed.

  “It’s Trent,” he said to her.

  Alex relaxed.

  Cage came in and took a seat next to her. As much as she was irritated with him, she was glad to have him near her.

  Trent took the seat Cage had just left. They sat silently just letting the situation sink in.

  “You’re the kid from the shop,” Trent said finally.

  “Alex is Carlos’s grandson,” Cage said.

  Trent raised a brow.

  “So, Alex,” Trent said from an arm chair. “It was you leaving those things for Whitney?”

  The boy looked over to Whitney and then down at Hank in his lap.

  “She saved Hank,” he said quietly. He said the name slowly, as if testing it out.

  Whitney leaned forward. “Do you know how he was hurt?”

  Alex looked up at her. Fear was in his eyes. He shook his head quickly.

  Cage looked over to Trent, who was wearing the same hard expression he’d seen him wear when he didn’t want to do something.

  “Not telling us puts Whitney in danger,” Trent said.

  Whitney whipped around to glare at him, but Trent ignored her. Cage placed a hand on her leg, and when she looked at him, he nodded. His only hope was that she understood how serious this all was.

  “Did the Los Malos put you up to this?” Cage asked.

  He watched as Whitney’s eyes widened with the realization of how deep things went.

  Alex shook his head.

  He believed him. The boy had been scared when the bell rang. Alex was in as much danger as the rest of them.

  “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us something,” Trent said and leaned back.

  The boy continued to pet Hank in his lap.

  “I just wanted to help,” he said quietly. “Sometimes they bring them in. They are so scared, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

  They listened silently as the boy spoke.

  “They hate me,” Alex said and rubbed his eyes on his shoulder. “They’d kill me, but some of the guys knew my papa and abuelo.”

  Cage cringed at the mention of Paco and Carlos. Both had lost their lives the day of the fire, the day he’d been shot. Only Carlos died with dignity, whereas Paco died by Ryder’s hand when he was saving his woman. The kid had been through hell and was still living it even now.

  “Who is the dog the chip and collar belonged to?” Whitney asked.

  She leaned forward but hadn’t thrown off his hand. Cage could only hope it was a good sign.

  Alex shook his head and looked back down.

  “Look,” she said softly. “You wanted me to help. Well, you have to give me something here. I want to help you, Alex.”

  The boy looked up to her, and for the first time, Cage thought they might get somewhere with him.

  “They keep the dogs,” he said. “They come in with trucks, and a man takes out that metal thing in them.”

  Whitney looked to him with horror in her eyes.

  “Where do they take the dogs?” Trent asked. He’d been quiet for some time, and Cage only assumed he was taking things in.

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not allowed to go. Like I said. They hate me, and they don’t trust me.”

  Whitney cleared her throat. “And Hank?”

  Alex swallowed. “He was strong, and he bit one of the men.” He started to cry, and she got up to place an arm around him. “They kicked him. They were going to kill him.”

  “So you ran out with him,” she said quietly.

  Alex cried against her shoulder. “They beat
me, but it was better than killing him.”

  Something snapped in Cage. More than anything in this world, he wanted to kill these men, to make sure they paid for what they had done to this boy.

  Whitney smoothed down his hair and hugged the dirty boy.

  “It’s fine,” she whispered. “We’ve got you now.”

  * * *

  It took nearly an hour for the boy to calm down. He eventually fell asleep curled up on the floor with Hank.

  Whitney brewed some coffee in the kitchen, where they were talking quietly.

  “We should call the police,” she said quietly.

  Trent shook his head. “And tell them what? That they beat the boy and have stolen dogs, but we have no idea on the location? If the cops move now, they’ll find nothing, and the Los Malos are just going to end up getting away with whatever else they are doing.”

  Whitney pursed her lips. “Alex will tell them.”

  Cage placed a hand on hers and squeezed. “How can he? This is a gang we’re talking about. Do you know what happens to snitches?”

  Her stomach churned. She didn’t have to know for sure to have a pretty good guess. She’d seen the fear the boy had.

  “Well,” she said. She sighed and took a sip of her tea. “What do we do?”

  Cage rubbed a finger across her hand, and she realized he still was holding her hand.

  Part of her wanted to pull away, but after the child’s story, she just couldn’t.

  The men grew quiet as they thought. She knew what had to be done. It was the only thing that was right in all this.

  “He’ll stay with me,” she said.

  Cage shook his head furiously.

  “No fucking way,” he said.

  She pulled her hand back and crossed it over her chest.

  “He needs a safe home, and that’s just what I have,” she said and eyed him.

  “He does need a safe home,” Trent said.

  Cage looked between then, and she was fairly certain he was seeing things her way.

  He sighed loudly.

  “He’ll come home with us,” Cage said.

  Whitney raised her brows in surprise.

  “You?”

  Cage frowned at her, and she knew that she’d hit a chord with him.

  “He’s a kid, not a baby. He’ll be fine,” he said and rubbed his eyes hard. “Besides, at least I’ll know you’re safe, and he will be as well. If the Los Malos go after him, I’d rather them run into Trent and me than you.”

  Her heart warmed at his honesty. He might be the worst person to plan a date, but Cage wasn’t a bad man.

  “It’s settled then,” Trent said and stood. “We take the boy.”

  With all the ease in the world, Trent went into the living room and scooped up the sleeping boy. It must have been ages since he slept so well. He didn’t even stir at the movement.

  She watched as Caged opened the door and then walked out to the car to open it as well. Trent slid Alex in the back of his car and then climbed into the driver seat. As Cage made his way back to her door, she watched as Trent drove off into the night.

  “I’m sorry,” Cage said when he reached the door.

  She frowned a little.

  “It was a shit date, and I’m a dick,” he said.

  It might not have been the most eloquent of speeches, but it touched her.

  “I’ll get this sorted out,” he said and nodded in the direction Trent had drove. “Maybe you’ll want to try again.”

  Whitney stayed silent as he walked slowly to his car and climbed in.

  She didn’t really know what to say. There were too many emotions warring within her.

  He flashed his lights, and she knew he was waiting for her to go in.

  Whitney walked inside and flicked the lock.

  As she watched his lights trail off into the distance, she knew only one thing. Cage was a mystery to her, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Just like every morning, the sun poured into the bedroom and made sleeping impossible for Cage. He frowned at the sound of laughter and the smell of food. Maybe he was still dreaming, and something weird was about to appear.

  He blinked his eyes a few times as reality came back. The boy. Alex.

  Despite the grogginess clouding his mind, he forced himself to get up and head to the bathroom. He figured a quick shower ought to do the trick.

  Cage got the water as hot as he could stand. He’d found that with his knee, it was the hotter the better, especially when it was stiff.

  He stepped under the spray and wondered what the hell he was going to do about the kid. Despite having nieces and nephews, Cage didn’t have the slightest idea what to actually do on a day-to-day basis with a kid. He’d contacted Reed, and his brother agreed that the best move for the moment was to keep the kid close to him. He was, after all, the potential key to unlocking the secrets of the Los Malos.

  Though the first thing would need to be a bath. That kid was dirty from head to foot. Cage figured he’d have to get some clothes for him as well. Alex certainly wouldn’t fit into anything Cage had in his closet for a long time.

  Cage climbed out of the shower and made his way back into the bedroom. He could still hear the boy in the living room, listening to cartoons or something like that. Despite the rocky start, it was good to hear him laugh. After what that kid had been through, what Cage had put him through by getting Carlos killed, Alex had it coming.

  A lump formed in his throat as he thought of Carlos and what he might say. The old man loved his grandson. It would have pissed him off to no end how he was being treated. The Los Malos would pay for everything they’d done. It was just a matter of time.

  Cage gripped the jeans he’d pulled from the closet and slapped them in the air to knock out wrinkles. He carefully slipped on the pants and pulled up the zipper. He stopped when something scratched at the door.

  “What the—”

  He opened the door, and Hank rushed in to lick his still damp toes.

  Cage stared at the little dog, not quite sure what had happened. What was Hank doing at his place?

  He made his way into the living room and was surprised to find a clean Alex dressed in different clothes.

  “Hey,” Alex said from the couch and went back to watching cartoons.

  Something clattered in the kitchen near the back of the house.

  Cage followed the sound of humming and running water.

  When he reached the door, Cage leaned on the frame and stared in shock at Whitney doing dishes. She hummed happily, despite being somewhat off-key at times, and swayed her ass to the rhythm she’d created in her head.

  “Hey, Alex,” she said as she rinsed off her hands. “What do you say we make cupcakes la—”

  Whitney froze. She’d been thinking about Cage all night, and now here he was. Shirtless. Sure, it was his place, but didn’t the man own a damn shirt?

  Despite herself, she followed the line of his chest until she reached the hair that dipped just below the underwear peeking out of his unbuttoned jeans.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  Cage grinned at her. She’d come to surprise him, and he still managed to get the upper hand.

  He slowly moved into the small kitchen.

  “I like chocolate,” he said and placed his hands on either side of the sink, effectively blocking her in.

  “Chocolate.” She swallowed and let out the breath she’d been holding.

  “Morning, Whitney,” he said quietly. His low voice made her nipples stand up and beg for attention.

  “Morning,” she whispered back.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” he said and leaned back. She watched as he made his way to the table in the kitchen and sat down.

  She took in deep breaths. Now that he wasn’t so close, she found it was easier. She silently cursed her treacherous body and Cage.

  “I came to make breakfast and make sure Alex was taken care of,”
she said and went back to wiping off the counter. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to handle a kid.”

  Despite herself, she was surprised to find the place so clean. Most men were at least a little messy. Maybe living with a SEAL had something to do with it.

  Cage grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate on the table and munched on it as he watched her.

  “Where’s Trent?” he asked.

  Whitney shrugged. “He let me in this morning and said the house was in my hands.”

  “Very capable hands I’d say.” Cage grinned.

  She frowned. He was toying with her. She needed to at least reestablish a little bit of control given how her body was reacting.

  “I could go if—” she began.

  Cage jumped up to block her way. “Don’t go,” he said. “Please don’t go.”

  She smiled and stepped a little closer. Maybe he needed to know that he wasn’t the only one that could be cocky, even in his own home.

  “Good,” she said and leaned down. Her shirt dipped a little, and her face burned as he glanced at her breasts. “Trent is going to be back later to watch Alex during our date.”

  Cage frowned. “Date?”

  Whitney poked him in the chest and sat up. “You owe me a real date with the real Cage, not the standard Cage Seduction Package.”

  She could see the confusion on his face, but that was fine with her. She’d much rather have that than the slick guy from last night. When she’d fully digested the night, she understood, but the whole thing still irked her a bit.

  “What about my cupcakes?” Alex said from the door.

  Whitney grinned at the boy. “Why do you think we’re making the cupcakes?”

  Alex grinned back and whooped his way back to the living room.

  “About those cupcakes…” Cage frowned and stared at her. “I still get to have some, right?”

  Whitney laughed at his expression and patted him on the shoulder.

  “We’ll have them tonight. You help make them, you help eat them,” she said and went back to cleaning.

  She jumped when his arms wrapped around her middle. His warm chest pressed against her.

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “I won’t blow it this time.”