by Sienna Blake
“Thank you, Dix, for everything,” I say into her red curls that smell like apple shampoo. “I won’t forget this.”
She pulls back and her eyes are misty. She waves her fingers under her face. “Oh, girl, you’re making my makeup run. You just promise that you’ll look me up if you’re ever in town.”
I know I won’t come back. She knows that I won’t come back either. But I nod and she smiles and I give her one last hug.
I leave the curtains of Dixie’s living room open so that the dawn light will wake me. It’s almost two o’clock now, only a few hours from dawn. I fall into a restless sleep.
The smell of musk and wood smoke penetrates my dreams. It makes my stomach twist and my chest ache and pulls me from my sleep. As I climb back up towards consciousness the smell, instead of fading, just gets stronger. I realize just as my eyes snap open that he’s here. The dark figure crouched over me slams a hand down over my mouth before I can scream. I try to bite his hand, but I bite instead on cloth. He presses a rag firmly over my mouth and nose. I feel the fibers sticking to my lips and teeth.
“Shh. We don’t want to wake them up, do we?”
He has soaked the rag in something that smells pungent and sickly-sweet. I try to hold my breath as I struggle under his weight, until my lungs feel like they’re going to burst. I inhale, only as little as I can stand. I can’t to fight him off. He’s too strong. My toes and fingers start feeling numb.
I’m forced to take another breath. Caden’s figure blurs in front of me and the shushing noise he is making starts to sound broken. Fractured.
Somebody, please, help me.
Chapter 18
I drift up to the surface of consciousness. My head is spinning. Dizzy. My mouth is dry.
Where am I?
The smell of wood smoke and musk reminds me of my last few seconds of consciousness. Caden. The bastard.
I can sense him. He’s here with me, wherever here is. I keep my eyes closed and let my other senses come alive. I can feel the mattress under the length of my body. The sheets are soft under my fingers. There’s a pillow under my head. I can hear the distant hush of a car passing. Behind my lids I can see a light source coming from my left.
I focus my attention on my wrists and my ankles. Surprisingly, neither of them are restrained. Obviously, he doesn’t view any escape attempts of mine as any real threat. I’ll show the bastard.
“You can stop pretending to be asleep now.” His voice rolls over me, the timbre making my skin alight.
Shit. I could lay still, keep pretending?
I sigh internally. I’m going to have to face Caden sooner or later. Slowly, I open my eyes. The light source is the bedside lamp. I glance around and recognize this room immediately. I am lying on Caden’s bed. I sit up and push myself back against the board. I see him sitting in an armchair that he has turned to face the bed, his feet up on the end of the bed, a gun in his hand lying across his lap.
“I’m sorry I had to knock you out. I didn’t think you would come with me if I just knocked on the door and asked.” His voice is calm as if he is apologizing for being a few minutes late. I shudder. He used to use that voice to turn me on.
I should be scared. But I am sick of scared. I am all out of scared.
“You son of a bitch,” I growl out. “You mother-fucking son of a bitch.”
He scowls. “Language. There are ladies present.”
“If you hurt Jeff or Dix−”
“I didn’t touch them. I just came for you.”
“How did you find me?”
“I know that there are less than a handful of people in this city that you could call if you were desperate. After you escaped the docks I knew you were desperate. You didn’t think I would try their places looking for you?”
I’m an idiot. A fool. “I didn’t think you had seen me.”
“I didn’t see your face, but I knew it was you running away. At first I thought, it couldn’t be you. I didn’t think you would be so fucking stupid as to follow me there. You don’t know what you’ve done, kitten. You don’t know what you’ve fucking done. They know about you now. They know that you’re here in this city. It’s only a matter of time before…” He starts muttering into one of his palms.
“Stupid? Stupid! No, I’m stupid for ever trusting you, you asshole,” I scream back. I hope to God that one of the neighbors hears me and calls the cops.
Caden’s face snaps up. “You know you can trust me.”
“Trust you? I don’t even know who you are,” I spit out. “Caden Thaine? Or Harper Lexington?”
He flinches. “Don’t call me that.”
“Harper Lexington,” I draw the name out and take pleasure in watching him wince at each syllable.
“How much do you know about Harper?”
“I know everything. I know it’s your real name.”
“Harper is dead. I’m Caden. If you know about Harper then you understand why I am working for the Tyrells.”
No, I don’t fucking understand. “What about this, huh?” I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I yank open the bedside drawer and grab the manila folder still inside from the other morning. I throw the folder at him and the photos of me flutter around us like frightened birds. “I know about this, you sick bastard. I know you were following me before we even met.”
He snatches his legs off the bed and sits up. “You broke into my apartment?” He lets out a curt laugh, but there’s nothing humorous about his tone. “You have more balls than I thought. So much for trust.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me about trust. You used me.”
His face pales. “Kitten…”
My heart squeezes. How dare he use my nickname for me now. How dare he soil it. I hate it. It used to symbolize his affection, but now every memory of him calling me that is a sharp knife to my gut, another betrayal.
“Don’t call me kitten. You don’t get to call me kitten anymore. Tell me, Harper… was it all part of the job? The kisses, the sex, the part where you seduced me into giving you what was left of my heart? Was it part of your job to fuck with my life as well?”
“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? It would have been kinder.”
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’m leaving this place: of my own free will – which means Caden would have to either die or let me go – or in a body bag. I am not being taken to Jacob. Never. I shudder 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 accoun
ts, 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...”
“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−”
He had the decency to look horrified. “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.”
“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. I knew there were only a limited number of places you could work as unskilled labor. Mainly bars, clubs. Even fewer of them who take on employees cash in hand. 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. 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.
“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. 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’m tired of fighting and losing. With Jacob. With Caden.
“Why the hell did you do that?” he mutters as he pulls himself up from the floor.
He steps closer so that he’s towering over me. I realize I’m 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’m 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’m 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.”
“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?”
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.
There’s a silence while everything settles.
He’s a cop.
Undercover.
It all makes sense 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’s 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.”
“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. I’m not risking taking you to a police station. I’ll take you to a safehouse somewhere.”
I tense. 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.”
He 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.”
I tense for a second. He wouldn’t. He’s holding the barrel of the gun aimed at me. 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. He won’t shoot me. 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?” 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.
I have to protect myself. I’m 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?”
