by Elle James
Cage cocked an eyebrow. “Are you ready?”
She nodded.
“We’ll take my truck,” he said. “Your stalker knows your Jeep.”
“Good,” she said. “And thank you for thinking of that.”
“It’s all part of my job,” he said.
His words made her feel sad and her stomach knot just a little. What had she expected? She was the job, not some hot chick he wanted to take out. Obviously, what had happened with RJ and JoJo was not going to happen with her. Her bodyguard was going to work by the rules and keep it strictly professional.
And so should she.
They descended the staircase into the great room and met RJ and Jake dressed in old clothes and carrying a can of paint. A wave of guilt washed over Emily. “I really should stay and help paint.”
RJ shook her head. “No way. This is gonna be fun for Jake and me. I’ve been meaning to put a fresh coat of paint on the front of that building anyway. The winters are pretty harsh on the paint. If we do it, Gunny won’t have a chance; he’s not nearly as detail-oriented as I can be, if you remember the barn fiasco.”
Emily smiled. “Yes, indeed I do. You, me and JoJo ended up repainting a good portion of it because he wasn’t careful with the trim.”
“And his comment to us was…?” RJ prompted.
Emily laughed. “As long as it’s painted, who cares?”
“But we did care, and we wanted the place to make a good first impression on our guests. With a lot of things, Gunny is disciplined and precise, but not when it comes to painting.” RJ shook her head.
“I’m just glad he had some interviews this morning to keep him busy. Does anybody look promising?” Emily asked.
“He has three people lined up. His first one was a no-show.”
Emily frowned. “That’s disappointing.”
“Yeah, but better now than a no-show when it comes time to work.”
“True.” At times, Emily wished she only worked part time so she could help Gunny and RJ at the ranch.
“I believe one of the applicants is a former Marine,” RJ said. “Which makes me think that he will lean toward that one. And the other is prior Army.”
Emily grinned. “I’m glad he likes to give the veterans a chance.”
“He was specific in his ads, stating he had a veteran’s preference and that bartending skills are a must.”
“Is he just trying to backfill for the bar?”
RJ shrugged. “So he says. If this person is any good, I’m hoping he can take over the whole operation when we’re gone for my wedding. Though don’t tell him that. It’s enough for him to let go of the bartending duties. Anyway, you two need to get going so you can get back.”
“Don’t expect us back until this afternoon,” Emily said.
“Please tell me that’s because you’re going to do some digging in your patients’ files?”
Emily nodded. “I’m going to give it a start. I really don’t want to stay there all day on my day off.”
“I understand. After spending all week there, you don’t want to spend your weekend there as well.”
Emily laughed. “Now, how would you understand that? You’re here at the ranch twenty- four seven.”
Jake laughed. “Emily’s right.”
“Hey,” RJ said with a frown, “we’re working on that. As soon as Gunny hires somebody for The Watering Hole, that’ll free one of us up from closing.”
“And when are you going to hire a cook so you’re not starting breakfast before the crack of dawn?” Emily asked.
“One step at a time,” RJ said. “One step at a time.”
Emily hugged RJ. “You know I only want the best for you.”
RJ returned the hug. “And I feel the same toward you, sister.”
Emily’s heart swelled with her love for RJ. “Hey, and don’t forget you have to invite me when you go dress shopping.”
“Dress?” RJ frowned, and then her frown cleared. “Oh, yeah!”
“Seriously, RJ?” Emily asked. “If you’re planning on getting married, you kind of need a wedding dress.”
“I knew that,” RJ said. “We’re just in the beginning of the planning phase for this destination wedding.”
“And as far as destination wedding goes, whose idea was it?” Emily looked from RJ to Jake. “Yours or Jake’s?”
“I know you’ll be surprised to hear this, but actually it was RJ’s,” Jake said.
RJ grinned. “Yes, it was, and when Hank offered up Barbados, I jumped on it.”
“Wow, RJ.” Emily grinned. “That’s really stepping outside your box.”
RJ’s lips twisted. “You mean the ranch?”
“I didn’t say that,” Emily said. “But, yes.”
“Knowing that the Brotherhood Protectors are here and will help out when they’re not busy doing other stuff, makes me feel better about leaving for a little while. And I have always had travel in the back of my mind. I just never had time to do it.”
Emily’s heart swelled for her friend. Jake would be good for her. “Well, I’m glad to see that you’re changing that.”
RJ held out her hand, and Jake took it. Her eyes shone as she looked up into his. “I’m just beginning to realize that life can be a broader adventure than what I’ve experienced so far. Don’t get me wrong, this ranch has been an experience and an adventure, and it will be here when I want to come home.”
“There’s a whole world beyond Colorado,” Jake reminded her.
RJ nodded. “I know. And I plan on seeing some of it.” She turned to Emily, her smile fading. “You need to get to the Springs and back. Now, go.”
Emily and Cage left the lodge while RJ and Jake headed down the trail to the Watering Hole. Cage led Emily to his truck and opened the door for her. He cupped her elbow as she climbed into the passenger seat. She liked the feel of his hand on her arm, even though she knew it probably meant nothing to him.
The drive into Colorado Springs would take between thirty-five and forty minutes through scenic vistas and a pass. It would give her time to find out more about Cage and his background. As soon as they drove off the ranch and onto the highway, she turned to him. “So, Cage where did you grow up?”
He frowned. “A variety of places,” he said. His answer was short and sweet and didn’t invite a whole lot of questioning.
Emily was not deterred. She was good at figuring out other people, asking leading questions that didn’t allow for a yes or no answer. “Like where?”
“Texas,” he answered in two syllables.
Okay, he wasn’t going to make this easy. “Any siblings?”
“No.”
“What did your parents do?”
At that point he turned toward her. “They died when I was four years old.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling guilty for bringing up a sad or sore subject. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He returned his attention to the road ahead. “I never really knew them.”
Even more curious now, she asked, “Were you raised by another family member?”
He shook his head.
“Foster system?” Okay, so she was digging now.
“Yes,” he said and followed by a muttered, “for what it was worth.”
“It wasn’t a happy situation, was it?”
He gave a tight smile. “Let’s just say that I got used to carrying my stuff around in a black trash bag.”
Her heart squeezed hard in her chest. She could picture the dark-haired little boy being shuffled around from foster home to foster home with no siblings and no parents to call his own.
“Hey,” he turned long enough to glare at her, “you asked and I answered. I don’t give you permission to feel sorry for me.”
Her eyes widened, and she squared her shoulders. “Okay then, I won’t feel sorry for you.”
“I learned how to make it on my own until I was old enough to leave the system. I joined the Army as soon as I finished high school. That’s
when I found out that family didn’t have to be blood.”
She nodded. “Your brothers in arms, like your friend Ryan.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. Emily could tell how hard he was squeezing by the way his knuckles turned white.
“You were talking about Ryan, right?” she asked.
He nodded.
“The guy you were telling me about. The guy who ran the race with you.”
He nodded again. “He was the brother I never had.”
He spoke the words so softly she almost didn’t hear them, but she picked up on one word, was.
Her eyes narrowed, and she studied him as he focused on the road ahead. “Was?” she asked softly. “Did he not participate with you on the Pikes Peak Marathon?”
He gave a laugh that held no humor. “He was with me all right. In my backpack.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“All six pounds of his ashes.”
Her heart sank to her stomach. “Oh, sweet Jesus, your friend…your brother…is dead.”
He nodded. “I held him while he took his last breath. Nothing else stays with you like that.”
“I am so sorry.” Emily stared down at her hands, feeling awful for intruding into his business. “Asking you questions about him only makes it worse, doesn’t it?”
Cage sighed.
Emily sat quietly in the seat beside Cage, her heart hurting for him. The loss of his friend had hit him hard. Having grown up in the foster system… never having a family. And to find a friend who felt like a brother, only to have him die in your arms? That had to have set him back to square one. A kid growing up in the foster care system had to have issues with committing his heart and emotions to anyone. And then to do so and lose that person had to have been devastating. “How long ago?” she asked.
“Four months.”
So, he was still grieving.
“Is that why you got out of the military?” she asked.
His face didn’t hold any expression except for the tightening fine lines around his eyes and mouth. “My time was up. I had no reason to re-enlist.”
“You weren’t medically discharged, were you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, I’m so damn healthy it makes me sick.”
“Because your friend didn’t make it,” she spoke the words softly.
Cage slammed his palm against the steering wheel, his face suddenly a ruddy red. “Yes, dammit. Ryan didn’t make it, but I did. It should have been me.”
Cage was showing classic symptoms of grief. Anger was one of the stages. “You still have Ryan’s ashes?”
He nodded. “I promised I’d spread his ashes over the Colorado Rockies. I was going to do it at the summit of Pikes Peak.”
“And you didn’t,” she said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
He shook his head. “Too many people. Not enough personal space.”
She nodded. “It wouldn’t have been right.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that? Because it’s illegal to spread ashes up there? I knew that. I was going to do it anyway. It was just…too crowded.”
She shook her head. “No, not because it was illegal. You made a promise to your friend that you would complete that marathon with him. If you had spread his ashes on top of Pikes Peak, he wouldn’t have completed the marathon with you.”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You don’t think it’s weird that I’m carrying my buddy’s ashes around with me?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. Not at all. It’s hard to lose a loved one. It’s even harder to let go, even if it is just a part of him. Some people keep urns of their loved ones’ ashes in their homes. They even talk to them when they need advice or are feeling sad. It’s natural.”
“Thank you,” he said.
She glanced his way. “For what?”
“For understanding. Most people would think I’ve lost my marbles by carrying around the ashes of a friend.”
“Far from it. You’re showing a commitment to that friend. Your love for him transcends his former physical form. I admire the fact that you want to see him through to a proper farewell.”
He nodded. “Exactly.” He shot a glance toward her, a real smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Don’t ever underestimate yourself, Emily.”
Her cheeks heated at his warm statement. “Why do you say that?”
“You have a gift for listening.”
Emily chuckled. “Why do you think I became a therapist?”
His brow dipped. “I’ve known therapists who barely spoke two words during a therapy session.”
She frowned. “Because they were listening?”
He shook his head. “No, they came in, worked the patient’s muscles and demonstrated techniques. Besides that, they never spoke that much or asked anything other than, Did that hurt?”
“Good grief,” she said with a laugh. “What kind of therapist do you think I am?”
He frowned. “Physical therapist, of course. I mean, what kind of other therapists are there?”
She laughed out loud. “A few other kinds.”
“So, you’re not a physical therapist?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“But you worked the charley horse out of my leg.”
She shrugged. “I’ve had charley horses before and rubbed the knots out of my legs. I figured that’s what you needed.”
His frown deepened. “Then what kind of therapist are you?”
“I’m a Licensed Clinical Psychologist. The therapy I do helps others overcome the trauma of the battlefield or sexual abuse.”
He raised his foot off the accelerator, and the truck slowed. “Please tell me you haven’t been psychoanalyzing me the entire time we’ve been talking?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ve been off duty all weekend.”
His mouth formed a thin line. “Then why did you ask me all those questions?”
“I just wanted to get to know you, not as your doctor or your therapist, but as a friend who cares.”
“Well, damn,” he said. “Now, I feel like an idiot. I’m just going to sit over here and keep my mouth shut.”
Emily sighed. “Please don’t. Do you know how hard it is to get anybody to talk about themselves when they know that you’re a psychologist?”
“I can imagine it’s very difficult,” Cage said. “I’m intimidated.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Emily said, “do me the favor of giving me the benefit of the doubt. I’m not analyzing everything you say. Maybe we can do each other the favor of being friends or something.” She tempered her words with a smile.
He glanced her way briefly, a smile spreading across his face. “Deal.”
Traffic became more congested as they entered Colorado Springs and drove into the center of the city. Emily gave him directions to her apartment.
He pulled up in front of the building and parked.
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said and got out.
He met her on the other side. “We will be a few minutes,” he corrected.
“That’s right,” she said with a smile.
“I promised to keep an eye on you. That means I’m sticking with you like glue.” He offered her his elbow.
Emily hooked her hand through the crook of his arm, and they walked up the stairs together to the front door of her apartment. She took her key out and inserted it in the door lock.
Cage laid a hand over hers. “Let me go first.”
She stepped back as he pushed open the door and craned her neck to see past him. As far as she could see, it appeared as if everything was normal. Her living room was just as she’d left it, with no rosebuds lying around or blue paint on the wall.
Emily let Cage lead, but she followed him as he entered the kitchen. Nothing seemed to be out of place.
He opened the pantry door; no one was hiding inside. She looked twice at the canisters she’d purchased recentl
y that contained the flour, sugar, and rice. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, so she ignored it and moved on. Her apartment was small with a compact kitchen, a decently sized living room and one bedroom. She followed closely behind as Cage entered her bedroom and almost ran into him when he came to a full stop, muttering a string of curses.
“What?” she leaned to the side, unable to see into the room.
“Stay here.” He crossed the room and entered her bathroom. When he came back out, he pointed at the bed.
Emily took a step into the room so that she could see what had Cage cursing. She’d recently purchased a navy-blue comforter to cover her queen-size bed. In the middle of the navy blue were streaks of white sparkling crystals. As she moved closer, she realized those white crystals formed letters making words. She read aloud. “Sugar is sweet.” Her heart thrummed against her chest, and her breathing became ragged. She staggered backward. “He was here.”
Cage’s jaw was tight as he nodded. “Yes, he was. You might want to look around and make sure there’s nothing missing or that he hasn’t left any other presents. I’m calling the police.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911.
“I’m not gonna lie,” she said. “This is creeping me out. I’m supposed to be the only one who has a key to my apartment besides the manager. How did he get in? I lock the doors. I lock the windows. Gunny drilled it into my head to play it safe. He didn’t like the idea of me living downtown anyway, not alone.” She trailed her hand across the top of the dresser. Nothing seemed amiss.
Cage’s attention turned to his cellphone as the dispatcher answered. “Yes, I’d like to report that someone broke into my friend’s apartment.” He listened then gave the address. “No, the person isn’t in the apartment. now. No, I’m not sure if anything is missing, but he left a message. Yes, ma’am, a message…sugar is sweet. It’s not the first message he’s left my friend. He’s some kind of stalker. Yes, ma’am, we’ll wait for an officer to arrive. Thank you.” He ended the call.
Emily opened a dresser drawer. Her socks were neatly folded as she usually had them. She closed that drawer, opened the next one and gasped.
“What?” Cage stepped up behind her.
“This drawer,” she said. “He’s been in it.”
