Caged Read online

  I rubbed a hand across my face, stepping forward at the ding before the doors even opened.

  A pause and a quick glance left and right revealed the opposite room to be number twenty-two, and descending numbers stretching off to the east.

  The copulating pair stumbled into my back. A high-pitched giggle provoked a twitch into play beneath my right eye. Before they could expect me to participate in their amusement, I strode off down the corridor.

  At the end, another hallway reached off to the right. I peered down it, spotted two-eleven, and ducked that way. The inconsistent beat to the steps at my rear made Kyle and his date sound drunk.

  I didn’t even want to think about what the slurping suggested.

  I tapped his door as I passed. “Yours.” The next one along had two-oh-nine below the peephole—my room. I stared straight ahead at the numbers as I slid the key into the lock, but didn’t nudge the door open.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched Kyle disentangled himself long enough to insert his own key. The second he released the lock, they slammed against the wood, and the crash of it against the inner wall vibrated the length of the corridor. Only once the door swung shut at their rears did I push open my own and enter my room.

  A wall of white curtain hung opposite the door, beyond a king size mattress coated in white and grey bedding. I hauled off my shirt as I crossed the room, heading straight for the dresser. My brows lifted at a bash against the wall from the other side, and I hit the switch for the TV, turning the volume up on the news in the hope of drowning the worst of them out.

  After tossing my T onto a bucket seat in the far corner, I reached for the buttons of my jeans. It took less than a minute to lose my boots, denim and boxers, and send them sailing in the same direction—my mobile along with them.

  “Shit!” I dived forward, caught the hem of my jeans before they landed, and rummaged in the pocket for the device before slinging them once more.

  The fabric of the bed covers cooled my rear when I sat, refreshing the grimy skin of my back as I flopped down. Whilst I searched for Shelley’s number in my phonebook, I lifted my feet and propped them up on the desk, hitting dial when I found her entry.

  The first ring barely reached my ear when it connected. “Ethan?”

  My heart thudded a little at the sound of her voice. “Hey. You okay?” I rubbed a hand across my chest, like I could stem the dodgy rhythm within.

  “Wh-where are you?”

  The thickness of her voice hinted she could have been crying again. My hand ceased its massage. “I’m—”

  “I thought you’d be here by now.”

  An ache hit my gut. “I, um—”

  “I cooked steak.” The clank of pots and running water hit my ears. “Gabe says it’s your favourite, so …”

  “My, um …” I sat up but lay back down again when I caught sight of the mess of my reflection in the mirror. “You cooked for me?” Shit!

  “You were so hungry last night … spending so long looking for Gabe … I wanted to make sure you had a good meal … to say thank you.”

  My jaw tightened against a growl that rumbled out.

  “Ethan?”

  “I can’t come, Shel.” I rubbed at my face, gave a low groan. “Shit!”

  “It-it’s okay,” she murmured.

  “No.” I pushed up and paced across the room. “No, it’s not okay. I’m stuck here in this stupid hotel room because of Kyle and his damn libido—”

  “Hotel?”

  “Yeah, the, um …” Another pace across to the curtains, which I swished aside to peer out. “The Blackberry, or something.”

  “Blueberry?”

  “That’s the one.” I watched the car park below, following the route of a couple who looked more like they belonged in a Gypsy caravan than a hotel. “Only good thing to come of it is we’ve now got a description of a man Gabe might have been seen with.”

  “You did?” Her toned perked up, tugging a smile onto my lips. “That’s good news.”

  “Yeah, it’s progress.” I let the curtain drop back into place and turned to face the room. “Listen, Shel, I’m really sorry I can’t come.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah …” I released a sigh. “… yeah, it does.”

  “But you got somewhere today. You’re a step closer to finding my son. I think I can forgive you.”

  “Another time.” I brushed a hand over my head, ducking beneath my wince when it ran over a lump. “Tomorrow … maybe.”

  “I’ll cook.” She paused before adding, “Again.”

  A small laugh breathed out. “Sure.”

  After hanging up, I headed across to my bedside shelf, but didn’t get as far as putting the phone down before it rang in my hand.

  The caller display flashed up at me: Jem.

  I hit connect and lifted it to my ear. “What’s up?”

  “How’s my favouritist big brother?” Unrelated by blood, her place in the pack earned her immediate sistership from me, and my title from her came in return.

  However, my eyes narrowed at the sweetness of her tone. “You want something.”

  “Nice.” Her blown out breath buffeted against my ear. “I call to tell you I’m missing you, and you accuse me of ulterior motives.”

  My eyes narrowed further. “So, you’re just calling to say how much you’re missing me?”

  “Yes.”

  The smile that entered her tone drew my own onto my face. “I haven’t been gone that long, Jem.”

  “This is your second night running at Shelley’s.” She’d driven straight to her point, as usual.

  My shoulders tensed as I waited to see what else she had to say on the matter. Female interest in the male pack members had been known to provoke explosive responses from Jem.

  “You have a thing for Shelley, Ethan?”

  “Nope.”

  “Jem!” Sean’s hiss in the background revealed her source.

  My jaw crunched beneath the pressure of my teeth grind. Damn him and his big mouth.

  “Because … well … you never said anything.”

  I remained silent—often the best option until I could be sure of her mood. Even more so since she’d gotten pregnant.

  “Of course, it’s not that I mind …”

  My left brow lifted a little as I dared allow my stiff shoulders to relax.

  “Shelley’s really cool …”

  My other eyebrow joined in the act.

  “She’ll be good for you, right?”

  I opened and closed my mouth before my mind conjured words. “But nothing’s going on with Shelley, Jem.”

  “Sure it isn’t. That’s why you’re—”

  “I’m not talking about this with you.” I nodded at my assertion.

  “Besides,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken, “think of all the money you’ll save on those prostitute bills of yours.”

  Sean’s stifled laughter echoed out beneath Mum’s call of, “Leave him be!”

  My eyebrows lowered. “Goodbye, Jem.”

  “No, no, no, wait.”

  I hesitated, phone gripped tight in my hand.

  “I’m right though, aren’t I?” More chuckles from Sean. Another admonishment from Mum. “It will save you a fortune. No more ladies of the—”

  My lips twitched despite my annoyance. “Bye, Jem.”

  “No wait. I was just—”

  I smiled as I cut her off.

  As much as I wanted to be pissed at her, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Jem had a natural lovability, which drew us all to her like moths to a flame, and none of us ever stayed mad at her for long. I certainly couldn’t, not when I’d more or less got a free pass from her for Shelley—she’d n
ever give the green light so readily if unsure. I only wished I held her certainty; the whole Shelley business still confused me like crazy.

  My smile remained as I investigated the room’s mini-bar and Glenmorangie stared back at me.

  “Oh, yes.” I reached in for the bottle. “You will do quite nicely.”

  With the golden liquid transferred to a glass, I padded into the bathroom. The shower took a little fiddling to bring the temperature down to tepid. I stepped beneath the spray, almost leaping back out again when the water hit my crown and discovered yet another lump. Angling my head to the side to avoid a direct blow, I set about peeling the layer of dirt from my flesh.

  Complimentary toiletries in lemon zest or lavender perfume were my only option, and I used them because they smelled better than I did. With shower gel lathered over my chest, torso and other parts, shampoo added softness to my manky hair, and the foldaway disposable toothbrush took the unwanted coating from my teeth. I weighed about ten pounds lighter when I emerged from the cubicle.

  Smearing condensation from the mirror, I lowered my face and peered up to check out my head. Even in the smudged blurriness, swelling and bruising stood out, and my scab had turned into soggy stickiness thanks to the water. I poked at it, cringing beneath the pressure, and ran my hands across my entire skull to see how many bashes I’d taken.

  From the one at my crown, I brushed over a lump just above the nape of my neck, flicked wet spray from my hair as I swept over to another at the right side. My knees had taken a beating, too, on contact with the wall—along with some tenderness to my left shoulder. Luckily, only bruising would be left behind as a reminder of those.

  I scooped up my glass from the vanity unit, downed the rest of the contents, and closed my eyes as the warmth of it heated my chest. Vowing to refill as soon as possible, I unwrapped the guest razor to complete my transformation from hobo to hot … ish.

  Back in the bedroom, I balanced on the edge of the bed and stared at the TV. Against my better judgement, I tuned into the room next door, breathing out a sigh at the quiet that met my ears from there. Either they’d finished for the night, or they needed to recuperate between sessions.

  “And I can’t believe I’m sitting here thinking about that,” I muttered.

  Strange surroundings always brought restlessness. Nothing smelled right. None of it looked right. After a lifetime of my bedroom overlooking the forest, even opening the window to busy streets and passing pub stragglers offered no reprieve.

  The news finished on the box, and a crappy film took its place. Minutes in, some moron’s arm hung trapped through a car window, and his feet skidded along the tarmac as the driver dragged his pathetic arse down the street.

  I shook my head and picked up the remote to flick through the channels, clicking off a ridiculous vampire teen programme as fast as it came on. A sex documentary—I could do without that right then—came before a programme on fetish’s, including men’s envy over whose cock was biggest.

  “Jesus, come on.”

  After those came, ‘My daughter mutated at birth’. About the best option came in the form of a kid’s cartoon, and even that bored the hell out of me with its repetitious circling of dumb animals.

  I hit the standby button.

  Deep silence filled the room, whilst beyond my walls, engines and tyres announced arrivals and departures, muted voices revealed the presence of conversation, and quiet footsteps travelled the outside corridor.

  The mattress groaned a little when I pushed up. Gripping the softness of the covers, I folded them down and dropped my face to sniff at the fabric. Only cleanliness greeted me, not too overpowering, and I plumped up my pillows in satisfaction.

  The footsteps from outside the room grew louder, nearer. With my knee raised to climb into bed, I hesitated when they halted outside my door. A thud resounded through the wood. I turned my head, staring at the entrance until common sense told me I wouldn’t discover my visitor if I didn’t move from my position.

  My damp towel lay strewn across the chair at the dresser, and I snatched it up en route, securing it about my waist. At the door, I ducked down and peered through the peephole. My brows shot up, yet my lips curved when Shelley’s face came in view.

  Rounded to distortion by the convex plastic, her green eyes seemed to lock onto mine through the wood.

  I tugged down the handle and swung the door open. “Shelley?”

  Her eyes widened. Her jaw worked a little.

  I brushed a hand over my hair. “I, um … wasn’t expecting you.”

  Her eyes darted to the side, and she lifted her hands, entwining her fingers.

  My forehead creased as I narrowed my eyes. “Is something wrong? What’s happened?” I peeked around the doorframe, down the corridor. “Where’s Mia? Is she okay?”

  Shelley nodded. “I sent her home. She couldn’t sleep at our house with Gabe gone, anyway.” Her shoulders shifted in a small shrug. “I just … I wanted to say … thanks.” A deep breath heaved her chest. “For everything … you’ve done.”

  My brow quirked up.

  “Gabe told me about the offer …” More finger fiddling. Another eye aversion. “To join the pack.” Her attention returned. “He looks up to you—a lot. You have no idea how much he appreciates the runs he gets to share with you.”

  “He’s good to run with.”

  “Better than your family?” Her palm lifted. “You think I don’t understand how much you give up for him by allowing him two of your weekends every month, but I do. It’s a big deal. For you to sacrifice. And for him to have you there to guide him. You’re a good teacher, Ethan. He’s learnt a lot from you. He respects you …” Her lips pursed until they made a popping sound. “I just … wanted to let you know.”

  I smiled, despite my confusion. “Thanks.”

  Her eyes flittered away again. When she met my gaze again, her mouth opened and froze in place. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She stared at me for a second, but spun and walked away.

  Frowning, I watched my source of decent company slipping through my grasp, until I shook my head clear and stepped out from my doorway. “Shel?”

  She halted and spun back.

  I padded the few paces along the corridor to her and hunched down to her eye level. “You really came here just to tell me that?”

  Her gaze flitted across my face. “Oh, my God.” She reached up a hand but withdrew without making contact. “What happened to you?”

  I’d forgotten for a moment. “I … hit a wall.”

  “You need it looked at.”

  I thought it a question and went to answer, but Shelley continued, saying, “I should look at that for you.”

  She pushed past me and re-trod her path to my room. Pausing with her hand holding the doorway, she peered back. “You coming?”

  “I …” I rubbed at my forehead, to hide my uncertainty. “I’m coming.”

  11

  “Don’t be such a baby.” Shelley pressed the facecloth to my head after my dodge rendered her first attempt a failure. “Hold still, will you?”

  “You’re hurting me.” The scalding flannel burned the hell out of my skin, sending lava-like temperatures seeping into my wound.

  She rolled her eyes as her fingers held my chin steady. “So,”—another dab, another wince from me—“you going to tell me who got the better of the invincible Ethan Holloway?”

  “Invincible?” I breathed out a laugh and shuffled back in the chair Shelley had pulled away from the dresser when she ordered me to sit. “What the hell gave you that impression?”

  “It’s what Gabe sees in you.” She guided my chin to the left. “Strong, powerful, controlled. Like I said, he holds you in high regard.”

  My fingers flexed as I studied her too-close narrow hips. “And you?” I tucke
d my hands between my knees and glanced up at her.

  “Me … what?”

  “What do you hold me in?” What does she hold me in? My eyes did a virtual roll at my idiocy.

  She wiggled the fingers of her free hand with a smile. “These, maybe?”

  Her expression warmed my insides enough to alleviate my discomfort, and her smile remained as she shook her head. “But that’s not what you were asking … is it?”

  My gaze locked with hers for a moment. The weight of the unspoken exchange prickled at my flesh until my damn nipples hardened. With a rough throat clearing, I shoved to my feet. “Done?” My voice arrived funny.

  “No.” She took my arm, gesturing me to sit back down. “You have more bashes than just your head, Ethan.”

  The cushion remoulded to my rear when I lowered. Elbows rested across my thighs, I stared off to the corner of the room lest she become aware of the effect her closeness had on me.

  Her thigh nudged mine as she leaned around and poked at my shoulder. “This is bruised already.”

  I shrugged the shoulder beneath her palm and released a slow breath.

  “You going to tell me what did this to you?” Her stare met mine as she came around to kneel before me.

  “It’s not important.”

  The hardening of her eyes could have set concrete.

  “Vampire,” I muttered. “Bastard beat the crap out of me.”

  Softness re-entered her green irises, along with concern. She didn’t question further as she ran her fingertips over my right knee. “Just a graze,” she whispered, shifting her attention to my left.

  The tenderness of her touch sent tingles along my inner thigh to my groin. I almost groaned at my untimely swelling—especially as I hadn’t traded my towel for anything larger—and folded my arms across my lap in a bid to conceal.

  “In answer to your question?” Her eyes hooked back up with mine and contained no laughter but a deep seriousness I had trouble deciphering. “When I look at you, I see only you, Ethan.”

  As my mouth opened and my almost permanent brow furrow moved in, her legs straightened. She stood and turned for the bathroom, but I darted my hand out, folding my fingers around her wrist.