Page 33 of Marked

Chapter 21

Cain

The moment I saw Riley leave the table without Charlie, I knew that something was up. The look on her face, a blend of tense fear and resolve, the way she walked with her back unnaturally straight and her small hands clenched into fists—none of it suggested a casual stroll to the restroom.

She marched straight to the restroom door without talking to anybody or hesitating once, but I knew that she didn’t simply go there because nature was calling. I contemplated following her directly, but decided that it would raise too much suspicion and opted for another way. Instead of meandering through the bar and risking to be seen by anyone, I turned around and slipped out through the kitchen entrance. It was a risky move, still, especially because I lost sight of her in the process.

But my instincts were right when they told me that the restrooms are facing the left side of the building, just like the door to the kitchen entrance. I hesitate before sneaking through the heavy door, searching for the Scivola watchman who was guarding the door when I came here, but he is nowhere to be seen. I step out into the dark, surprised to see absolute no one around to either side—and that fucking worries me. I can’t possibly be that lucky, can I? While I should be happy about being able to move freely without detection, I’m all too aware that it shouldn’t be this way. There should be at least one guy right here where I’m standing and at least one other guy to my right, at the back entrance of the bar.

I take a few steps forward, assessing the scene with my brows furrowed in concern. The deserted silence is unnerving and only feeds my apprehension as I slowly make my way along the alley, turning left and toward the main entrance of the building. I have only taken a few steps, when I hear a sound behind my back and when I turn around on my heels, I realize that the noise is coming from a window further down the building. I freeze, narrowing my eyes to get a better grip of what’s happening. A window about ten feet right of the kitchen door is being opened from the inside, and I don’t need to look twice to know that it is Riley, trying to escape from her ordeal. My chest tightens at the thought of the terror she must be experiencing right now, but for some reason, I duck and sprint away in the other direction when I see her head peeking through, fortunately looking the other way and giving me enough time to duck and sprint away in the other direction, where I manage to hide behind a dumpster before she sees me.

It was instinct that brought me here, and while I question my behavior right at this moment, it soon shows to be the right decision. I listen as she climbs through the window, her feet landing heavily on the dirty pavement. I risk a glance at her, carefully peeking from behind the dumpster while I curse myself for letting it come to this.

She stands there in the middle of the alley, her arms wrapped around herself and visibly pained by fear.

I hate seeing her like this. Just a few weeks ago, I probably couldn’t have cared less. I still remember the day I took her, the day I came all over her tight little body while she thought all of this was part of a game we played. I remember the horrified look on her face when she was dragged down to the basement, naked and humiliated—and while I felt possessive of her even then, her agony did leave me rather cold.

It’s different now, very different. The anguish marking her pretty face cuts right through my chest, and I vow right here and now that I will try everything within my power to make up for the things I did to her.

She moves slowly at first, her shoulders pulled up to her ears as she moves in my direction. I tense up, forcing myself to come up with a decision on what to do once she spots me, because she undoubtedly will if she keeps moving like this, at a slow pace, on high alert and with her eyes flitting from left to right as she scans her surroundings.

None of pondering thoughts matter a moment later, when I hear a voice in the distance, a male voice, coming from the same direction as Riley.

No, behind her.

Someone said her name.

There’s a split second of absolute silence, before she begins to sprint, passing the dumpster without taking notice of me as she flees toward the main street—closely followed by a tall, dark figure.

Neither of them notices me as I jump out from behind the dumpster, my focus not on Riley, but on the man chasing her. I jumped up soon enough to be right at the guy’s heels within seconds, channeling all my energy for one last lunge to bring him down to the floor. The element of surprise works in my favor, stupefying him and allowing me to get on top of him and knock him out with a pointed blow to the head. His muscles relax as he loses consciousness, his face dropping into a shallow puddle as he collapses on his stomach. I have no intention of seeing him dead, so I make sure to turn him around on his back so that he doesn’t choke or drown in the mud.

And that’s when I see it.

This guy is not one of us.

He is a police man.

I jump up as if I was hit by an electric shock, quickly distancing myself from him while I try to make sense of this.

What the fuck is he doing here? Why would the police stroll through this alley and run after Riley for no reason?

Riley!

The thought of her immediately stops all other cogitations and tears me away from the unconscious man and right back to running after her.

She’s not a very fast runner, even when panicking, so I can still spot her only a few yards away, seemingly oblivious that her follower is no longer after her.

But I am.

I sprint with no regard to anything or anyone else, my focus only on the little figure before me as she tries to run to safety. I consider yelling her name, but decide against it as I don’t want to spook her any further or draw attention to us.

I catch up to her just as she is about to jump out on the main street and thus in plain sight of God knows who. After the absence of our men and finding the police chase after Riley, I have reason to believe that nothing went according to plan tonight, fucking nothing.

Her surprised shriek when I grab her is muffled by my hand on her mouth. I pull her back into the shadows, hastily searching for a place to hide while she squirms helplessly in my arms.

“Riley, it’s me,” I whisper next to her ear. “You’re safe.”

She stops fighting my embrace immediately, but remains tense as I move her to the side, forcing her to crouch down with me, pressed against the wall of the building. We’re not safe here, but I have reason to believe that we would be in even bigger danger out on the street.

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