Page 61 of Savage Escape

Probably not.

Maybe mostly not.

Regardless, the house and its people made her feel uneasy. Like if she didn’t run at the first chance... something would go down and she would not come out the victor.

“You leavin’?”

Caden jolted into the crouched and ready position, ignoring the sharp pains coming from just about everywhere on her, and located the threat. Her portable IV wobbled and squeaked at the sudden movement but stayed upright. Ellen stood in the kitchen, sawing away at a loaf of bread.

A flush of guilt colored her cheeks pink, but she forced herself to quell any outward reaction. If they started accusing her of stealing, she was out. She wasn’t stealing or doing anything to incur any kind of reprimand. Still though, it was very hard to stop looking guilty.

“What—no. Maybe.” Smooth. Caden was smooth as silk.

There was a grimace on the woman’s face as she dragged the knife through the bread. Crumbs and bigger crumbs fell ontothe counter and made Caden cringe. Ellen was butchering the beautiful, delicious-smelling bread.

“Don’t look so shocked.” Ellen paused in her destruction of the bread to grin and quirk an eyebrow at her. “You were eyeing the door like you were two seconds from running.”

“I wasn’t gonnarun.” Was she so transparent? That made for a grand total of two complete strangers who had the magical ability to read her like a book. She didn’t like it.

“Well, have some of this bread before you go. You have to be starving.” Finally, Ellen got a piece cut and waved it at her before refocusing on the loaf. “Bobby made it special for you and Nate.”

The fresh bread smell was mouth-watering and alluring. The seasoned mercenary decided to stay where she was. It was ridiculous, she knew, but it was innate. The ridiculous innate part of her did not approach armed unknowns. Caden had long since learned an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of not getting stuck with a bread knife and bleeding out all over the nice, clean floor.

“He made it for me?” Shit, was that her voice? That pathetic croak?

“He figured ya’ll would be hungry for some home cookin’ now that you’re home.” Ellen got another piece cut with minimal damage and then made quick work of the rest. “God damn, let’s pretend this doesn’t look like a tornado hit and enjoy it, anyway.” Ellen smiled, gold glinting and necklace tinkling, and tossed the bread knife in the sink behind her.

Unarmed, the woman posed less of a threat and there was all that bread made special for her. Ellen smiled at her again and held out a hunk of mutilated bread. Caden was in the kitchen somehow. Cold tile was under her feet and she couldn’t remember telling her feet to move.

“The man can cook, let me tell ya. He takes the house down with his snores, but the man can cook.”

Suspicion crawled up the Hitter’s spine. Caden was almost eighty percent certain that this woman was not some devil in disguise. Seventy-three-ish percent sure that the bread Ellen was offering was not poisoned. That this woman was as genuine as anyone could be. And about ninety-five percent positive that she was being a paranoid idiot, but still she couldn’t make herself take the proffered bread.

It wasn’t as if she’d never been the recipient of human kindness. She knew what good people were, but this whole experience was throwing all her carefully honed spidey senses off. Why would this woman give anything to her? Caden was a thief and a killer and a mercenary, and many other unsavory things that good people didn’t abide.

Sure, Ellen thought that Caden was solely responsible for the return of her son, but she’d already thanked her for that. Good people were confusing and annoying, and Caden wanted to be done with them.

Goddamn, did she want a piece of that bread, though.

There was a pause in movement where the woman stopped to study her. Amber eyes were warm and understanding. Guilt pounded down on her shoulders once more under the woman’s scrutiny. Caden attempted to use her IV pole to maneuver herself into a more upright position, but gave up. It was not worth the effort. Ellen was asking Caden to trust her on blind faith.

Fat fucking chance.

“Butter?” She was already smothering her slice, and Caden’s mouth flooded even as she controlled a flinch back at the sudden appearance of another knife in the woman’s hand.

“Yes.” Caden had to swallow twice before she could get a word out and then try to remember what manners were and if she’d ever learned any. “Please.”

Ellen handed over the knife without batting an eyelash and took a big bite out of her piece. Relief just about overwhelmed her, and it was all she could do to quell the trembling in her arms to work the damn knife.

“Hot damn, my man can bake!” Ellen took another bite of the bread and gave a satisfied grin.

“Ma.” Holden appeared in the room behind his mother and glared accusingly at her. Caden, suddenly feeling ten shades of guilty, dropped the knife and took a small step away from his mother before she caught herself enough to glare back.

“Holden can cook too, though he pretends like he can’t.” Ellen whirled on the much larger being and patted his scowling face. His features softened only when he glanced down at his mother.

“You know I prefer your cooking, Ma.” He smirked impishly as his mother scoffed and swatted at his chest.

“Oh, stop lyin’.” Ellen rolled her eyes and whirled back around to hand him a piece of bread. “Is Jackson still here?”

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