by Alaska Jones
I nod my agreement and tuck his hair behind his ear. My chest warms up when he closes his eyes for a second as my fingers graze his skin, and I bend down for a quick kiss, inhaling his masculine scent. “You need a haircut,” I say, drawing back.
“I’ll get one once we’re done with this. What, you think I like this?” He pulls at a strand of his messy hair with a wry smile, standing up.
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
He shakes his head. “We’ll have to change the way we look, not just our names. So, as much as I like this color on you,” he wraps a strand of my red hair around his fingers as I stare at him, wide-eyed, “You’ll have to become a brunette for a while.”
“New names?” I croak out.
“What did you expect?” He arches a brow at me and picks up his binoculars.
“I don’t know… What about my parents and friends?”
He waves his hand and turns to the balcony. “They can visit. We’ll find a safe way to set it up.”
“Visit us where?”
“I can’t tell you yet. But I promise you’ll love it.”
I sigh, overwhelmed by the situation, and watch him peer at something down below through the binoculars, like the morning before. “What is it?”
“Can’t believe he’s still here…” I hear him mutter.
“Who?”
“The guy that’s been spying on us. You ready to go?” He turns to me, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, I’ll just make sure I haven’t left anything in the room.”
“Okay.” Handing me the binoculars, he picks up his black long-sleeve shirt. “Put these in the bag, too.”
“Sure.” I smile as I head back to the bedroom. I check under the bed, inside the nightstand and wardrobe, behind the armchair and on the windowsill, but there’s nothing. Everything I own now is in a single duffel bag. I put the binoculars inside and zip the bag closed, realizing that it’s not even that heavy. This is so not how I imagined the end of my big career in Los Angeles.
I turn to the door, nearly jumping in surprise. “Wha- ” Cage shushes me before I can finish the question, his eyes on the front door, his hand gripping a gun.
As I watch with big eyes, the handle moves down and up, and Cage takes a single key and silently inserts it into the keyhole. “Stay in the room,” he orders, closing the grid and locking it before I can utter a word. He hands me the keys to make sure no one gets in.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, grabbing the cold iron, but he ignores my desperate stare.
“Actually, get into the wardrobe and don’t come out no matter what happens.” The commotion behind the door becomes louder. “Remember your promise, Jenna,” he whispers, and I nod even as my inner voice screams in protest. Still, I can’t move from my spot as he turns to the coat rack and starts moving it to hide the bathroom door.
The sounds behind the door grow louder by the minute, just like the blood that pumps in my head, and I pick up my bag with stiff fingers and put it in the wardrobe. Just as I hide inside, someone on the staircase spits out a curse, followed by sounds of struggle.
“Cage, what is it?” I keep my voice down, hoping that he hears me, but there’s no response. I know that he’s still here, and the door hasn’t been opened.
Another scream, and another thud. My heart racing, I step out of the wardrobe and creep to the grid, finding Cage in the same tense position by the door. He notices me, even though I don’t make a sound, and gives me a scowl. “They’ll hit you if they shoot through the door. Move!” he whispers angrily.
I hide behind the wall, ears trained on the scuffle outside. A second later, it’s quiet, and no one tries to pick the lock again. In another second, I freeze as I hear my name,
“Jenna? Are you in there?” The voice is familiar, with its British accent and deep tone, but I can’t pin it down. I look out, locking my gaze with Cage, and he raises his index finger to his lips.
“I know him!” I mouth, pointing at the door, but he still shakes his head.
“Jenna, there’s not much time!” The voice comes through the door again, while Cage and I engage in a vicious staring contest. Never before have I felt so helpless and confused, but my gut tells me I’m right to trust the voice.
I know Cage won’t let this go, and unlike rules, promises are not made to be broken. But I also know that he’s not the only one trying to protect someone he loves.
So I open my mouth and speak.
Chapter 29
Cage
“Who is it?” Jenna’s voice trembles, but it’s loud enough for the British guy to hear. I roll my eyes, heaving a sigh.
“It’s Lincoln!”
“What are you doing here??” she exclaims before I have a chance to shoot another disapproving look her way. “I told you I know him!”
I shake my head, but relax a little and lower the gun.
“We can talk in the car, there’s no time! Open the door!”
“Get behind the wall!” I order again, and seeing my angry scowl, she obeys. I don’t care if it’s Abraham fucking Lincoln, I’m not following his orders. The only way he’s coming in is with a gun to his head.
I step to the other side of the door and turn the key. The handle goes down, and the door opens slowly. He has no choice but to stick his head inside, and the moment he does, I cock my Beretta at his head.
“Well, fuck me…” I mutter when I see the familiar blond head and blue eyes.
“No, thank you,” he parries curtly, cementing my hate for him.
“Oh, you think you’re funny? Following me around, spying on my girl?” I press the gun to his head, more out of annoyance than threat. I know this position is ineffective, and he could shake me off in a single move, but he won’t. Not if he wants to do whatever he’s come for.
“Your girl?” His confused eyes turn to me, making me realize my stupid mistake. No one should know about me and Jenna.
“Cage, put the gun away. He’s a friend,” Jenna’s voice interrupts my train of thought while I decide whether I should shoot the guy or just cut his tongue out.
“Really? How do you know her?”
“He’s one of Charlie’s bodyguards!” Jenna exclaims. “Geez, would you lower the gun? After all, he hasn’t done anything to harm us.”
“He hasn’t done anything to help us, either,” I object, uncocking the gun and bringing it to my hip as I stand in front of him.
“You think so?” The door swings wide open, revealing three sprawled bodies out on the staircase. Lincoln stares at me without blinking, like a short-circuiting Terminator.
I realize why his face seemed familiar. I did, in fact, see him with Charlie.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” I grumble stubbornly.
“Let’s go talk to Charlie, and you’ll have all the proof you need.” He attempts to stare me down, even though he’s a couple inches shorter. If not for Jenna, he’d be missing a few teeth right about now.
“Why would I go anywhere with you, Robot Boy?”
“Right. Just get out of my way so I can take Jenna to the safe house before any more thugs come knocking.” He takes a small step forward, stopping inches away from me.
“Jesus, enough with the cock fight!” I flinch when Jenna grabs my arm.
“Don’t ever grab me from behind like that,” I mutter, shoving her behind my back.
“What are you, a horse?” she snaps.
I let her annoyed retort go, distracted by Lincoln’s trembling hands. Is he psychotic or something?
“Why are you here, Lincoln?” she asks.
He swallows hard, curling his fingers into fists, and focuses his eyes on her. Definitely psychotic.
“Charlie sent me to keep an eye on you when you said you didn’t want to leave. It was a matter of time before they came for you.” He frowns at me, brushing off his white polo shirt. Who wears chinos and a polo to a fight, anyway?
“They don’t know she’s here, you genius. Though now that they’ve s
een you here, they probably will. I’ll just have to shoot those three to make sure they don’t find out about it.”
“They didn’t see my face.”
“Oh, really?” I pretend to peek outside. “Where’s your Batmobile?”
Jenna sighs behind me.
“Did you not hear what I said about us having to get out of here?” he says, ignoring my jab.
“Oh, I don’t need you to tell me that, ’cause that’s exactly what we were about to do.” I turn my head, speaking over my shoulder to Jenna, “Get your bag.”
She shoves the keys into my hand before stalking away, muttering something under her breath, while I stay by the door with my eyes locked on Lincoln. Seeing how it unsettles him, I just can’t get enough.
“You go first,” I jerk my head at him when Jenna stops at my side with the bag. Shaking his head, he walks out and picks his way carefully down the stairs. “Stay behind me,” I tell Jenna before following him outside.
Her discomfort is obvious when she steps over the sprawled bodies of Dwight’s men. Lincoln whips out a handgun when we reach the second floor and pauses to wait for us.
“If anything happens, run to the Jeep. Lock it from the inside and get down on the floor,” I tell Jenna, pressing the keys into her palm.
“My car is closer,” Lincoln cuts in, making me turn and stare him in the eyes.
“No, thank you,” I mimic his response from earlier and shove him forward.
There’s no one outside when we walk out, but I instantly spot a male figure in the first floor window, half-hidden behind the curtain and with a phone in his hand.
“Stop.” The three of us freeze by the door. “Jenna, wait here. Lincoln, shut up and walk with me.” I drape my arm around his head, keeping his face hidden as I walk him to his car. “There’s someone watching us from a window. Please tell me he wasn’t there when you walked in.”
He untangles himself from my grip nervously as he gets in the car, all the while hidden behind my back. “There wasn’t anyone in the windows. Are you going with me or what? Charlie said you and he have a lot to talk about, whatever that means.”
“You’re still alive, so obviously, yes.”
He nods and closes the door, pulling out of the narrow driveway.
The moment he’s gone, Jenna tosses me the keys, and I hop in the Jeep. Pulling up as close to the door as possible, I open the passenger door for her and look at the window again. The man is not there, but that just means he’s hidden himself. Still, he can’t see her as she steps up to the car and gets in.
“Get down,” I tell her as the door slams closed.
“What? I’ll just hide my face.”
“Then he’ll see a girl hiding her face. We’re already in deep shit with Robot Boy here. Don’t make it worse, Jenna.”
She pushes her seat back and crouches on the floor with a sigh, so I can finally follow Lincoln to the main road. All that the man in the window saw was me putting a heavy bag in the back before driving away.
“What was that about?” she mutters in annoyance as we join the traffic, heading south.
“You can get up now.” I reach out my arm to help her to the seat, but she waves me off.
“Why are you so mean to Lincoln? He helped us,” she complains, lowering her hood.
“I don’t like it when people mess up my plans. Besides, there’s something about him…” I trail off as his Bimmer takes a left turn at the last moment and I barely keep up.
“What, him being a friend and a young, attractive male?” she finishes for me with a laugh.
“You said that, not me.”
“Oh, come on! Charlie sent his best man to help us. Be nice to him.”
“We don’t know that,” I object, giving her a pointed look. “I do not like depending on people I don’t know. We could be driving into a trap right now, for all I know. Call Charlie.”
Her eyes lighten up as she remembers she wanted to call him and takes out her phone.
“Charlie, it’s me,” she greets him, turning on the speakerphone when I glance at her. My lips twitch as I see us beginning to understand each other.
“Hey, you coming over? Lincoln just texted me,” Charlie’s voice rumbles from the speaker.
“Yes. Where are you? Are you okay?” Her voice breaks anxiously. I reach out to squeeze her hand, keeping my eyes on Lincoln’s car.
“I’m fine,” Charlie says. “We’re at a safe house down south. I’ll tell you two everything when you get here. You okay, kid?”
“Yeah, just worried about you guys.”
“No need for that. See you soon.”
“Okay. Bye.” She puts the phone back in her pocket, arching an eyebrow at me.
“What?”
“See, no one’s plotting to kill us.” She runs her palm down my thigh, pleasantly distracting.
“Yeah, save for a couple drug dealers. Which reminds me…”
“Well, it wasn’t any of them behind our door. I knew it was someone familiar, that’s the only reason I opened my mouth. And I know that Lincoln is loyal to Charlie. You might find it surprising, but some of us know what they’re doing, too.”
I cut my eyes at her and cover her small hand on my thigh with mine. “Not all the time…”
“Fine, not all the time,” she sounds exasperated, but I can hear the smile in her voice. “I do dumb shit. Often. You happy now?”
“Very.” I keep my lips from stretching into a grin. Lincoln takes a sudden turn, and a few minutes later, I see a long, snaking gravel road with a small mansion at its end.
“And be nice to Charlie. He’s like family.”
“I know, I know…” I say, pulling up behind the Bimmer as we reach a tall iron gate.
“How do you know?” Her eyes widen when I glance at her, only to turn away before she sees it in my face, the moment I realize I fucked up. Behind the gate, a guard strolls lazily to let us in.
“I just know,” I reply cryptically, seeing her eyes narrow in suspicion.
“Well, it’s important that you two get along, since we’re all in this together. Why don’t you start by thanking him for sending Lincoln to our aid?” She blinks at me, and this time, I can’t hold back a smirk.
“Yeah, right. Just let me grab something.” I reach my hand between her legs and down to the floor.
“What?”
“A basket of Thank You cupcakes I baked for him while you were sleeping.” I grab her ankle, and she yelps, smacking me on the arm.
“It’s not funny!”
The Bimmer lurches forward as the gate opens, and we follow it into the shade of trees, forgetting our joking at the sight of armed guards and mean-looking SUVs parked in the spacious driveway. Jenna’s hand falls on the door handle, but I put my hand on her shoulder. “Not yet.”
We watch a group of suited men walk out of the front doors and get in a car, and as they leave the spot by the porch, I take it and kill the engine.
“Come on, this is paranoia. No one will see me here,” she complains. Lincoln has already got out of his car and now stares at me with narrow, impatient eyes.
“Everyone will see you here,” I mutter, realizing how it sums up the difference between our ways of thinking. I get out of the car and open the door for her. “Keep next to me and don’t make eye contact with anyone, if there’s more people inside.”
She sighs, but keeps her eyes on the ground and her face hidden under the hood as we follow Lincoln through the front doors and into a big hall. It’s filled with light that bounces off the white marble floors and golden decor on a wide staircase that takes us to the second floor. A male voice reaches my ears as Lincoln heads to a narrow hallway, and I glimpse two short figures walking slowly toward us.
I peer at them over Lincoln’s shoulder and freeze in place, barely feeling how Jenna bumps into me.
Merely a few steps away, dressed in a black suit and a tie, is Detective Doug Miller.
Before I have the chance to wrap my head arou
nd it, I grab Jenna around the waist and start walking again, basically carrying her through the hallway as I and the distracted Miller pass each other by, brushing our elbows. Jenna stares up at me in confusion, but all I can think about is whether Miller looked up in the end or not. We round the corner and walk into an open door, ending up in a cozy, wood-and-leather office.
“What the fuck?!” I turn on Lincoln the moment he closes the door.
“Cage!” Jenna calls from behind me, but I ignore her, fixing Lincoln with a bewildered stare.
“You got cops here?? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His artificial calm makes me want to smash his head into the wall.
“I’m talking,” I point a finger at his face, pinning him against the wall, “about you bringing me here, when you got Doug fucking Miller in your hallway. Don’t you know what I am?”
The muscles in his face move as he locks his jaws, staring into my eyes, and I realize he really doesn’t understand what I’m talking about. His icy eyes glaze over, darkening, and his fingers tremble as they clutch my shirt, but he doesn’t push me away for some reason.
“Well, hello there,” a husky voice breaks the strained silence. I turn my wild gaze to the right, finding Charlie walking out of a bathroom. Consumed by my anger, I haven’t even noticed there was another door. “Cage, am I right?” he pretends not to notice the quarrel, holding out his right hand for me. His left arm is in a sling, and he’s wearing suit pants and a gray shirt.
I breathe out, forgetting about Lincoln and turning on Charlie instead. “Damn right. Lincoln here couldn’t tell me, but I bet you know why there’s an LAPD Detective in your safe house.”
Charlie blinks, closing the door behind him. “You mean Detective Miller? He was here on an unofficial visit.”
“And how come you didn’t mention that when we called you fifteen minutes ago?”
Jenna gets in between us when I step closer, her wide eyes begging me to calm down, but I’m too shocked to have any control over myself.
“Um… I didn’t think you knew every cop in town. My mistake.”
“When you’re a wanted criminal, you don’t have to know every cop in town to avoid them all the same!”
