Page 82 of Cage

It was a similar feeling to the one he experienced back in his early years.

Instinct.

Burning desire.

A laser-focus on detail.

Cage ran back into the living area and ran his hands up and down surfaces. He buried his fingers in between the plumped cushions on the couch.

Searching.

Hoping.

At that moment, even the smallest, slightest detail could help.

Cage had solved some big cases with the smallest nuances. It could be done. It was often how the best police work was completed. Going all the way back to his first day in the academy, Cage had been earmarked as having the potential to rise all the way to the top.

He could think outside of the box.

He was meticulous too.

What he needed now was a return to those days.

It wasn’t the time to overthink things, but Cage wished he hadn’t let his career fall into a rut.

Had he kept on progressing, things might have been so different.

Cage would be a different person.

He would have known how better to deal with Katie.

And as a result, Katie would be safe right now.

Suddenly, Cage heard his phone ping.

‘Oh shit, it’s Katie,’ Cage said as he scrabbled across the room and into the kitchen.

But no sooner than Cage had picked up his phone, his face turned to grey.

Cage was aghast.

Shocked.

He couldn’t believe what he was reading.

It was like each and every one of his worst nightmares was coming true all in one disgustingly flippant text message…

You are never going to see Katie again, ‘Daddy’. EVER. She belongs to ME now. Not you. But ME.

Cage felt his legs go weak.

It was like the usual power that fueled his huge, muscular legs had suddenly been turned off at the mains.

‘What… have... I... done…,’ Cage said, burying his face in his palms as he took a seat. ‘This can’t be happening. Can it?’

Cage didn’t know what to do.

He was in a state of total shock and time was very much against him. He had to do something. There had to be some kind of shortcut.

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