Unleashed

by Sophie Jordan

  A muscle feathers the flesh across Caden’s jaw, the only outward sign he gives that he’s even heard Marcus. “I’ve already sent word to our liaison at the cell in Presidio today that we’re temporarily not accepting carriers.” He nods at Terrence, indicating that he had left and returned today to convey this message. And of course he would have sent Terrence. He’s probably the only guy left in this place that Caden trusts completely. Especially now.

  “Like hell!” Color mottles Marcus’s face. “I didn’t sign up to sit on my hands and do nothing!”

  Caden finally acknowledges Marcus. “I said this is only temporary. Until I know our position is secure and I’m confident that we’re not going to walk into . . .” His voice fades, and I know he’s thinking a trap. Instead he settles on, “Danger.”

  “This is because of her.” Marcus swings a finger at me, and suddenly I’m the object of all eyes. “This is just an excuse to keep her here when it’s obvious she wants to catch the next convoy to Mexico.”

  My face burns and my breath hitches, my lungs suddenly pinched, unable to take in enough air.

  “I won’t even dignify that with an answer.” Caden’s voice is deep and vibrating with suppressed anger.

  “He let her go before, you idiot,” Junie calls out from beside me. “Or did he arrange for the entire convoy to be killed except for her?” She snorts, crossing her arms in a huff.

  “Good question.” Marcus arches an eyebrow at Caden. “Did you?”

  My heart stops. You can actually hear gasps at the question, at the implication that Caden arranged for the murder of Tabatha and the others. A long stretch of silence follows. A thousand emotions cross Caden’s face before he erupts and charges across the room. “You bastard!”

  Marcus comes forward to meet him, a giant grin on his face, eager for the confrontation, and I know this was his hope. He wants this fight. Maybe he even planned to provoke Caden into it. They’re cut off, several guys getting between them. Terrence’s arms wrap around Caden, holding him back.

  “Tabatha was my friend,” Caden growls, one arm swiping for Marcus.

  I realize I’m standing—that I’ve vaulted to my feet like so many others in the room. Only their expressions are bewildered as they look back and forth between Caden and Marcus. Clearly they’re reconsidering who should be leading them while the General is away, and this makes me feel a little panicky.

  Something churns inside me as I watch the torment flicker through Caden’s face. The idea that they think he could have arranged the death of all those carriers, of Tabatha, that he could have been behind my own death had I not slipped away from the camp when I did, moves through me like a steamroller. It’s not right. I quiver with indignation. The sudden need to protect him, shield him, surges through me. I squeeze my hands into fists, my nails cutting tiny moons into my palms.

  “Anyone else think this way?” Caden’s gaze sweeps the room, his brown eyes gleaming fire. “Anyone else think I’m up for sabotaging what my own father worked so hard to build? That I would kill one of us in this cell?”

  Several eyes dip and study the floor almost guiltily. Marcus stares hard out at the group, his expression one of frustration. Clearly he wants others to step up and take a stand against Caden, but their faith in Caden isn’t shaken. At least not to the degree that Marcus wants.

  “Then it’s settled,” Terrence announces, releasing his hold on Caden. “We’re in lockdown until it’s safe enough to resume activities.”

  Normalcy slowly returns. People continue eating.

  Caden and Terrence leave the room, Marcus and Ruben hot on their heels. Clearly the discussion isn’t entirely finished, but apparently the remaining conversation will be held in private. Junie and I exchange looks before following. After those accusations, this involves me now, and I intend to be present.

  Marcus’s voice can be heard inside the controls room. Junie pushes the door open and stands there with her hands on her hips like she has every right to be a part of this discussion. I hover behind, a little to her right. Caden and Marcus stand nose to nose, ready to go at it.

  “This isn’t over. They might believe you today, but that won’t last,” Marcus is saying. “Not after I convince them that you’re letting that girl impair your judgment. They’re starting to doubt you. You’ve lost objectivity. Suddenly she’s back here and now you’ve halted all convoys. Convenient,” he says with a sneer, his strong features twisting into something ugly. As ugly as his thoughts.

  “You’re wrong.” I don’t even think. My voice just spills out of me in a loud tumble of words, rising over the room. “I’ve decided to stay. So I’m not the reason we’re in lockdown.” I twist my fingers together until they feel numb and bloodless and add again, determined for everyone here to understand that Caden is not some evil villain, “I’m staying.”

  I’m not sure who looks more shocked at my announcement, Caden or Marcus. Caden quickly masks it, though. He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Only I notice how that hand has the slightest shake to it. His eyebrows draw close together as he looks at me, and I know he’s trying to figure out why I did what I just did. The others in this room might not think twice about what I just said, but for Caden it carries meaning. I’ve given him my trust.

  Marcus’s expression twists into anger, and he looks like he wants to tear me apart. Nothing new, I guess.

  “You’re staying?” Junie demands.

  I actually let her question roll around in my thoughts, trying to be honest with myself. What am I saying? I still have to get to the refuge eventually. My friends are there. And my hope for the future.

  Meeting her probing gaze, I nod once, trying not to feel guilty over the lie. Especially since she’s really been the only one I could call a friend here.

  “It seems your accusations are unfounded,” Terrence smoothly inserts.

  Marcus storms off, Ruben close on his heels. Caden’s gaze catches mine. He sends me a single nod of acknowledgment. He might not fully understand my reasons—I don’t even fully understand them—but he appreciates my help.

  Suddenly the dinner I ate moments before tastes like dust in my mouth, and I’m afraid I’m going to be sick. What have I done? Even worse than these feelings is the sudden realization that staying here with Caden doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. Still feeling Caden’s gaze on me, I murmur something and flee the room. I don’t make it far down the hall before a door swings open and Marcus and Ruben step out.

  My pulse jumps at my neck. Clearly they were waiting for me. I start to spin around, not too brave to head back into the main room crowded with people to avoid them. Only another one of Marcus’s goons stands there. I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him around Marcus before, hovering at the periphery.

  When I turn to face Marcus, he’s already moved in front of me. I square my shoulders, convinced that showing fear will only satisfy him.

  “You just don’t stop, do you?” His nasal voice comes out softly, and my skin reacts with a shiver. He brushes my hair back from my ear, and everything inside me contracts.

  I knock his hand aside and try to walk past him, intent on getting to Junie’s room and closing myself inside. Even as I try, I know it won’t work. A guy like Marcus is used to getting his way. He’s not letting me go until he’s done with me.

  He grabs my arm and slams me against the wall. I wince. The force sends my teeth rattling inside my head. “I’m talking to you.”

  I reach for my voice, lost somewhere inside my constricted throat. “And I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say.”

  He laughs cruelly. “I love how you think you have a choice.” He pushes his face closer, and I smell dinner secondhand on his breath, fumes of tomato and garlic. He must have had more than one helping. “I don’t know what you have going with Caden, but it’s only going to make things worse for you. You’re in for a rude awakening if you think staying here is a good plan.”

  “Yeah, if I were you I’d
keep my mouth shut until the next convoy goes across,” Ruben chimes in.

  “’Cause you’re going to be on it. You’re not staying.” Marcus taps me on the collarbone with a gentleness that grates and makes me want to take a bite out of his hand. “You don’t get to kill one of us, my own cousin, and then park yourself here for the long haul.” His eyes fix on me with that dead evenness I’ve come to recognize among carriers. Not all of them, but enough. At least from the ones always eager to inflict pain.

  “Understand?” He steps closer and lifts his arm, angling it against my throat, his forearm grinding into my windpipe. I sputter, pretty certain he doesn’t expect me to answer him. Speech is impossible. Breath is impossible.

  And then he’s gone. A body rushes past me in a blur, taking him out. I gasp, suck precious air into my lungs. Caden collides into Marcus, crashing them both hard into the ground. They tumble together in the hall, all writhing limbs and smacking fists.

  Ruben shouts something and makes a move to separate Marcus and Caden, but Terrence is there, bigger, more intimidating. He places a hand flat on Ruben’s chest, holding him back. “Stay out of it. This is their fight.”

  And it is. Even if Marcus took exception to me for killing his cousin, this has been brewing for a long time between Caden and Marcus.

  I watch, still laboring for breath, my hand holding my throat. Terrence stands beside me as the hallway grows more crowded, people attracted to the fight. Apparently the smack of bone meeting bone travels.

  Caden overpowers Marcus, straddling him and punching him several times in the face until Marcus quits moving. A few voices call out encouragement, but for the most part everyone holds silent as Caden delivers a final crack to Marcus’s mouth.

  Blood runs from Caden’s nose as he grabs Marcus’s shirt by both fists and pulls him up, snarling into his face, “You touch her again and I’ll kill you.”

  A shiver runs through me. Marcus manages a whimpered moan that might have passed for some kind of affirmation.

  Caden gives him a small, single shake and drops him back to the floor. Rising, he sweeps everyone a heated look, his gaze lingering on Marcus’s friends. “Understand? She’s under my protection.”

  A cold chill skates down my spine even as heat blooms across my flesh. Everything inside me that’s strong, that’s used to fighting for myself, rebels at the idea that I need his protection. But that other part of me, the part that feels fluttery and breathless in his presence? It revels in the idea that he cares about what happens to me that much.

  Caden staggers forward in an unsteady line, his boots echoing in the narrow, overcrowded hall. Suddenly I feel claustrophobic. Too many people. Not enough air. At least I tell myself it’s this. It’s this and not everything that just happened. Caden stops before me, his chest rising and falling as though he just completed a marathon. Ruben helps Marcus to his feet, but the action must have cost Marcus. He groans.

  Caden tears his gaze from me and scans all the faces again. When he sees a wide-eyed Junie, he orders, “Pack up her stuff for her.” He looks back to me. “She’s moving into my room.”

  He did not just say that. Stamp me as his property. In front of everyone. He’s gone too far. My face heats, burning all the way to the tips of my ears. Marcus must have damaged my larynx—I can’t quite find my voice as Caden grabs my hand and leads me down the hall. Bodies part for us and still I can’t speak. Emotions burn through me, blistering a path too hot, too savage. I might do something I regret. I take small sips of air, trying to cool my simmering emotions.

  I want to hit him, lash out, and my anger frightens me a little. Usually I’m in control, but he just bulldozed through my barriers, knocked them to rubble, and now I feel exposed. Naked and vulnerable.

  I dam everything up inside and try to patch up the walls as my feet trip after him. We enter the hall leading to his room. Alone in his room will be soon enough for me to unleash on him—

  Alone in his room?

  Suddenly that doesn’t seem like such a good idea, either. Not when I feel this raw and battered. Not when he’s acting like a caveman. Everyone has a breaking point. Maybe he’s reached his.

  I yank back, but his grip only tightens. We’re almost to his door. Once inside, it will be harder to break away.

  I shake my head, telling myself to stop flipping out. This is Caden of the eternal optimism and too many smiles. You’re thinking of him as a predator. The same way you’ve learned to think of all carriers.

  But he is a carrier. Sometimes I forget that because he seems so good, so blessedly normal in a world that is anything but.

  I bring my other hand down on his and claw him. His curse hisses out on the air. His grip loosens for a split second. Enough time for me to slip free. I spin and head back the way we came, not even bothering to think how pointless running is. Where can I go? Who can help me? I thought he was the safest thing in this giant tomb beneath the earth.

  Of course nothing is safe. I thought I understood that, but then I started to think of him differently. I began to let him stand in a separate category from everyone else. I even lied—put myself at risk—to protect him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s not the exception to the carrier rule.

  A hard arm wraps around my waist.

  “Nooooo!”

  He lifts me off my feet like I weigh nothing and carries me, legs kicking, arms flailing, the remaining distance to his door. He turns the latch and thrusts me inside.

  I guess he’s confident I’m not going anywhere, because he releases me. His mistake. He turns partially to shut the door, and when he faces me fully again, I’m ready for him. I unleash.

  My hand lashes out and smacks him across the cheek. His head snaps back, an oath bursting from his lips.

  You would think I’d be accustomed to violence by now. Especially violence committed by my very own hands. But my stomach instantly knots. I’m going to be sick. My throat constricts, keeping the bile down. My eyes burn.

  I press my palm against the outside of my thigh. The sting there rivals the discomfort squeezing my chest.

  “What the hell was that for?” he demands.

  “How dare you?” My voice quivers, betraying me. I’m not the cool, calculated carrier. When I hurt someone, everything in me hurts, too. Especially when I hurt him.

  His eyes blaze down at me, more amber-red than brown, and I fight against the shiver threatening to roll through me. Fitting, I suppose, for a carrier to have red eyes. It’s a healthy reminder of what he is . . . that he snapped back there when he got into it with Marcus. That I’m in an enclosed space with a dangerous person.

  “How dare me?” He fingers his cheek where my handprint stands out starkly. “That’s the thanks I get for saving your life? What count is this, Davy? I’ve lost track.”

  I flinch but refuse to let him play with my head. I don’t owe him. I’m on my own. Owing him is like handing him a piece of me, and I have to keep myself intact.

  “I could have handled Marcus. You didn’t need to rush in. And you really didn’t need to haul me in here and announce that I’m staying with you. You don’t own me. I’m not your property!”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You may as well have. What were you thinking?”

  “That’s the only thing they understand.” He waves an arm wide. “I did it to protect you . . . just like you protected me back there when you told everyone you were staying.” He cocks an eyebrow, taunting me. “Unless that was true and you had a change of heart?”

  “I’m not staying!” I hiss. “I felt sorry for you. Marcus was going to turn everyone against you.”

  That wipes the smile from his face. “What did you just tell me? You can handle yourself? Well, ditto, baby.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t get involved again. I’m only here until the next crossing—”

  “Yeah. You’ve only told me that a hundred times.” He moves in, stalking me, no more the smiling Caden who left me so bewildered in the beginning. N
ow he looks every bit the menacing carrier. This I know. This I understand.

  I back away, my feet shuffling, veering away from the bed. I collide with the wall. Maybe not the softest destination but safer.

  Wall at my back, Caden at my front, I hold myself still and meet his stare.

  “So you lied for me because you felt sorry for me?”

  I nod, maybe too quickly.

  “Interesting.” The word is uttered calmly, but he looks far from calm. He looks furious.

  “They need you here.” I shake my head. “You. Not Marcus.”

  He angles his head, the anger draining from his expression. “You care about everyone in this compound so much then?” His gaze roams my face, but he looks skeptical. “Why don’t you just admit you care about me?”

  I swallow, wishing I had somewhere to go—that there wasn’t a wall at my back. “I just wanted to undermine Marcus. He wants everyone to doubt you . . . and apparently that means convincing them this lockdown is your attempt to keep me here.” I shrug. “Which is really a stupid, far-fetched idea anyway, but whatever.”

  He lifts a short, butchered wisp of hair from beside my ear and rubs it between his fingers like he’s testing the texture. “Is it so far-fetched for someone to want to keep you around?”

  A lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat.

  “No one keeps me. I’m not a pet.”

  He inclines his head but still holds on to my hair like it’s something too precious to let go. “No. You’re like some wild bird, aren’t you? Batting its wings and flying against the cage door. Even if it hurts you. Even if it kills you. You won’t stop. Even if no one is out to hurt you, you won’t stop.” He tucks that strand of hair behind my ear, and I flinch at the brush of his fingers on my skin.

  I shrug, slap at his hand. “So what? You just described everyone in here. All of us.”

  “No, the rest of us will keep to this cage. It’s protection from the dangers outside. In here, we have shelter. Freedom. Each other. We wait for the door to open, and when it’s safe, only then do we go out. You? You don’t care as long as you’re gone. Away from the rest of us. From everyone. Me.”