by Reina Torres
When she let it go and unfurled the plump morsel the only words that found their way passed his lips and muttered under his breath were, “Fuck me.”
And there was something in her eyes that had him nearly in flames.
“Well, Daddy told me a little about what’s been going on. I hope that’s okay with you.”
She waited for him to nod, something he appreciated. He was truly at the end of his rope and the less that he had to relive his failures the better.
“I was just wondering if we could talk about some of the things he hasn’t told me.”
The upper corner of one lip pulled back baring his teeth. “That depends on what you want to know.”
“Whoa there,” Maggie stepped forward and set her hand on his chest, “don’t get all growly on me.”
She was close enough that he could see the wet shine on her lips as he felt her fingers trace a path through his t-shirt across his chest. Her touch was gentle and soothing, but his jaguar was too close to the surface and he pushed against Cage’s skin, hard.
She looked up at him and he breathed in her scent. Freshly washed cotton mixed in with the strong cleaners that she had been using. Underneath those smells was a soft fruity fragrance that had his mouth watering. She searched his eyes and he trembled from thinly veiled need.
“Have a seat, Cage.”
His eyes narrowed and flicked toward the door before settling back on her face.
“Wow,” she laughed… she actually laughed at him, “you are kind of paranoid. I guess it served you well over-seas.” Shaking her head in a gesture that was remarkably like her father, she raised the hand she had on his chest, she touched her fingers to the side of his face. He felt her heat mingling with his own and the rough sensation of his stubble on her fingertips. She turned his face toward the back counter and the kitchen. “Breathe, Big Boy. Breathe.”
He took in a breath and stopped. And then took another breath. And another.
Cage could almost feel her smiling beside him.
“It smells good, doesn’t it?”
He could scent the cornbread in the air. He loved the sweet cakey bread more than he should, likely a by-product of the training that they’d done in the South when his unit had first formed.
Beyond the sweet honeyed cornbread, he smelled chili. The mix of spices mingling with the other ingredients made his belly growl with anticipation, but it wasn’t enough. Not with Maggie standing in the room.
“Well?” She moved her hand and he felt the soft brush of her fingertips against his jaw. “Smells good, doesn’t it?”
After another deep breath, he turned back to Maggie and nailed her with a look. “Not as good as you.”
Her smile held just a hint of shyness, even though her eyes were bright with something he couldn’t name. “Well that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Cage.” She gestured toward the counter. “But I’m betting that once you get it in your mouth, you’ll say a lot more than that.” She moved past him toward the crockpot of chili and reached up to the shelf for two bowls. “And maybe you’ll loosen up enough to talk to me like a person who’s just trying to help, because that’s what I am, Cage. You don’t have to try and win me over with your charm and sexy swagger, you don’t need that. I’m a big girl now,” she grinned from ear to ear, “and I’m not just talking about my backside.”
Setting the bowls on the counter, she dragged over a metal stool around to the otherside and sat down opposite of Cage.
He sat there watching her like a bomb that was ticking down to zero. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. She was his mate and that alone made this situation even worse than before. He was already failing Frances. He couldn’t stand thinking about how he was going to mess things up for Maggie.
It wasn’t just that she was a woman who’d volunteered to help him, she was his colonel’s daughter, and an innocent in all of this. He didn’t want to drag her into his mess any more than he had to.
He watched her pick up her spoon and unconsciously copied her gesture. She took up a spoonful of the chili and lifted it toward her mouth, pursing her lips to blow over the meaty concoction. She looked like she was kissing the steam that rose from the chili and just the sight of those full lips had him aching even more.
He realized that he didn’t have a chance of resisting her if he was just going to sit there and stare at her.
Cage set the spoon down in the bowl and met her curious gaze. “What do you want to know?”
She quickly chewed and swallowed the chili in her mouth and grabbed a napkin to touch her lips before she answered him. “What kind of things has she been doing?” She paused for a moment before adding another point. “And don’t sugar coat.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “Why would I?”
She smiled and cocked her head to the side as she looked right back at him. “Because when I asked you the question, you hesitated. I’ve seen that expression before.”
Maggie reached out and touched the back of his hand with her fingertips. If she sensed the way she made him feel, she wasn’t showing it.
“My dad would make excuses for me when he was around. He’d try to tell the police that I was just a confused young woman acting out. That I didn’t understand what I was doing… it was all bullshit. He was trying to help me, but all the excuses in the world weren’t going to help me as long as I was trying to mow under my own life.” She sighed and pushed the chili around in her bowl. “My dad was trying to help me, but all it did was allow me to dodge the consequences from my actions.” She swallowed and then blew out a breath. “I’m not blaming my dad, not at all. All of my problems were my problems. I just want to know what she’s done. If I’m going to help, I need to know what I’m looking at, not to judge, just to understand.”
Cage lifted a spoonful of chili to his mouth and tucked it into his cheek. “Well, this is going to take some time.”
She smiled and slid off her stool. “I’ve got coffee, if you want some.”
“Lots of coffee.” He growled and watched a little shiver roll through her body. “I want it all.”
Chapter Three
Arriving at the Sylvan City Courthouse gave Cage a terrible itch between his shoulder blades. Any enclosed building with walls that thick weren’t his thing to begin with, but the reason they were at the courthouse, that really got to him.
He reached out to take hold of the doorknob to pull it open and found someone else’s hand on the knob. Turning his head, he saw Frances’ now familiar golden-brown eyes and the shock of green hair that had miraculously appeared in her hair that morning.
“I got it.” She wrenched the door open and stepped inside.
Cage had to grab for the door to keep it from slamming in his face. “I guess I had to get it too.”
He caught sight of Frances over at the directory and started in that direction. Before he got there, she turned and started to walk off. Cage caught up with her and took a hold of her shoulder. “Frances, wait.”
“You don’t need to stay. I know where to go.” She pulled away and started off down the hall.
“Frances. Stop.” He managed to get in front of her, which was something since they were both shifters. “I’m staying here with you. I know you don’t want me to stay but you’re my-”
“Responsibility? You don’t owe me anything,” she groaned. “My dad may have wanted me to be here, and I know I’m stuck here until I’m eighteen, but you don’t have to worry about me. No one said you had to care about me.”
“I care for you. Your father was one of my friends, and he wanted me to take care of your needs.”
“I,” she stepped back away from him with a narrowed gaze, “I don’t need you.”
“Well, you’ve got me, either way. Todd wanted me to watch out for you and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“You’re just like everyone else, thinking you can order me around.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
&nbs
p; The courtroom door opened and Frances’ lawyer, a man in a loose brown suit, gestured to the both of them. “They’re going to start. You need to be inside. Now.”
Frances didn’t look up at Cage, walking straight toward the lawyer, she disappeared inside the courtroom. Looking up at the hallway clock, Cage had a momentary twist of worry in his gut. Maggie had said she would be there for the hearing, but what if she didn’t come?
She’s coming.
He scoffed at his jaguar. What do you know? You can’t tell time.
She’s our mate. She’s coming.
The lawyer, Mr. Weathers cleared his throat and held out his hands. “You coming inside, Mr. Gamble?”
Nodding, Cage followed him inside. First things first, he needed to be there for Frances.
Frances looked up at the judge, her mouth a tight white line, as if she was waiting for the judge to throw something at her. Instead the older woman addressed her attorney. “Mr. Weathers, would you care to explain why we’re here today?”
Standing, and nudging Frances’ arm the attorney cleared his throat. “Your Honor, my client, Frances Billings had a bit of an issue last night.”
The judge looked at the paperwork on her desk. “Your client’s ‘bit of an issue’ included slashing the tires of a BMW outside of a night club.”
Mr. Weather tried to put a smile on his face. “At least she wasn’t inside the club, hmm?”
The cold look on the judge’s countenance made Cage shift on the hardwood bench in the courtroom.
“I am concerned, Miss Billings, that this is becoming quite the habit with you, and-”
“Twice isn’t exactly a habit.” Frances certainly had no issue speaking up.
Cage leaned his head back against the wall and felt his fangs bite into the soft flesh of his lip.
The judge leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the edge of her desk. “Miss? If I was you, I would keep quiet until spoken to.”
“The story,” Frances ground out in the natural clip of her British accent, “of my fecking life.”
The judge narrowed her gaze at the young woman. “I’m afraid that with your attitude, young lady, it might be a good idea to sentence you to a juvenile justice facility.”
Cage lifted his head and scooted forward to the edge of the bench, ready to stand up and say… something, but the judge beat him to it.
“However, I have someone who would like to speak on your behalf.” She lifted her hand and gestured to the bailiff. He opened the courtroom door and gestured into the hall.
From where he was sitting, Cage could barely see what was going on until the bailiff stepped back inside and they were joined by one last person.
Maggie Fordice walked in and down toward the bar and stopped just at the gate. “Your Honor, I would like to thank you for allowing me to come in to speak on Frances’ behalf.”
Cage looked over at Frances and saw the way she dropped her chin down and started to stare at her hands folded in her lap. At least she was holding her tongue.
The judge nodded. “Granted.”
“Your Honor, perhaps you’ll remember me from a few years ago when I appeared before you in this very courtroom.”
The corners of the judge’s mouth curled up just a tiny bit. “Yes, Miss Fordice, I remember it well. You were quite the-”
“Hellion? Wild Child? If you’ll recall, you gave me a hearing much like this one.”
“Your father was deployed overseas and you, Miss Fordice, seemed determined to let everybody know how unhappy you were.” She shook her head. “But I am glad to know that you’ve made your life a success.”
“I don’t know about a success,” Maggie grinned back, “but I am doing my level best to make a go of it. Every day is a struggle for so many people.”
Cage watched Maggie turn and look at France’s downturned head.
“I’d like to give Frances the same opportunity that I was given.”
The judge hissed in a breath as she looked through the reports on her desk. “You are aware that Miss Billings’ offences are a bit more… destructive than yours were.”
“I haven’t had the chance to speak with her yet, but I believe we’ll be able to make this work, Your Honor. While we both acted out in completely different ways,” she admitted, “I think the pain that is at the root of her troubles may very well come from the same place as mine.”
Cage could see how thoughtful the judge was, listening to Maggie’s words.
“What do you propose?”
Cage saw Frances look up, set her eyes firmly on the side of Maggie’s face, watching intently as well.
“I spent almost a year in a juvenile facility before I was released into a work program under Paulie Houseman. He was willing to take me in and show me my way around a kitchen. I waited tables and did some cooking from time to time. I learned how to be dependable and work out a lot of my anger.”
Frances’ lip curled a little as if the very thought was making her stomach twist.
“I bought his diner here in Sylvan City now that he retired, and it just so happens that I’m looking for help in the kitchen and waiting tables.”
“I’m not a slave.”
Cage grabbed a hold of the bench back in front of him and clenched his back teeth together. “Frances!”
Frances’ attorney and the judge had similar reactions to the little outburst, but Maggie let it roll right over her. “That’s not how it works, Frances. It’s a job, you get paid for the work you’ve done-”
“Sweet,” Frances nodded, “I could use a little cash.”
“And the first thing you’re going to do is pay back the people whose property that you damaged.” She looked right at the young girl as she spoke, “This is going to be work, but when you’re done with it, you’ll have skills that will last you the rest of your life.”
“Slopping crappy food on plates is not my idea of a job.”
Maggie’s expression didn’t change, but Cage saw her shoulders tighten up just a little.
“I could work at the Club.”
“Club?” The pitch of the judge’s voice was a little too high for Cage’s peace of mind. He saw her turn toward him with an owlish look in her eyes.
Standing, Cage held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. I don’t think I should have Frances at the Arena. We sell alcohol during the fight events. It makes me a decent living, but it’s not a suitable place for a young girl to work.”
“Girl,” Frances scoffed. “Right.”
Cage avoided responding to her outburst, digging his fingers into the top of the bench, trying desperately not to break through the wood with his natural strength.
“Your Honor?”
Maggie again, but this time she had a look of determination on her face. The way the tip of her nose tilted ever-so-slightly up at the end kept her from looking too serious.
“May I speak to Frances in private?”
The judge nodded and gave an instruction looking directly at Frances. “You will be polite, Miss Billings.” The judge looked at her bailiff. “We’ll be in recess for five minutes.” The judge stood and followed her bailiff into the back hallway.
Maggie pushed on the gate and stepped past the bar. Sitting on the edge of the table, she gave the lawyer a pleading look before he would step away.
Cage watched as Maggie began to talk to Frances. He could have used his preternaturally sharp hearing to eavesdrop on their conversation, but he held back.
He could read Frances’ body language better than he could understand her words and emotions. So, he settled back and let the scene unfold.
“Okay,” Maggie let out a breath, “let’s hear it.”
Frances folded her arms over her chest and slumped back against the chair. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Then that’s going to make working for me a pain in your rear.”
“I told the judge I’m not working for you.”
“You know you can’t work
for Cage.”
“Look, lady-”
“Maggie. My name is Maggie.”
“Your father named you that?”
“My mother named me Margaret, but she left us when I was a kid, so I called myself Maggie.”
Frances sat up a little in her chair. “My mum named me Frances trying to make her family okay with the fact that she’d married ‘beneath’ her.”
Maggie nodded and shrugged. “They didn’t mind the shifter thing?”
That brought a smile to Frances’ lips. “They hated that most of all. One of my little asshole cousins tried to push me in a lake because ‘cats don’t like water.’”
Maggie felt an odd frisson of dread roll through her. “What happened?”
Unfolding her arms, Frances leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the defense table. “I grabbed him to keep from falling in and last I heard he still has three parallel scars on his arse.”
The two looked at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter.
Maggie’s cheeks flushed. “I’d never say so in public, but the little dork sounded like he deserved it.”
“None of them tried to push me around after that.”
“I don’t doubt it. But this isn’t just teaching your cousin a lesson,” Maggie explained. “You’re headed down the same dark tunnel I was, and I want to help you pull yourself out of it.”
“I can do it myself,” Frances insisted.
Maggie slid off the table and onto the seat beside Frances. “Take a look around. You’re in court. The judge is talking about time in a juvenile center. If you think Cage looking after you and me offering you a job is such a bummer, they’ll be crawling all over you in a place like that.”
“You can’t scare me.”
“I won’t need to Frances. Those kinds of places, they’re scary all on their own.” Maggie felt her heart slow to a crawl in her own chest as the old darkness she’d tried to put behind her came back, coating her skin like tar.
“If you’re worried that they’re going to come after me, I’m not. I’ve got claws, muscles, and teeth. I can fight them off.”
