Page 9 of Cage

“It’s cute that you think you get a choice, firefly.”

I pound on his back some more, though it probably feels more like a massage to him; he’s so dang big and muscular.

He’s not even winded. Why is he in such good shape? It’s not fair.

When he flips me into a plush leather seat, he grins and holds onto the armrests, blocking me in. “There ya’ go. Nice and comfy. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Snarling at him, I reach out and pinch his forearm, twisting as hard as I can. He doesn’t flinch.

“Keep doing that, firefly, and you might be flying with a hot ass.”

I gasp and let go of him, biting back a slew of insults. Who does he think he is?

He looks so pleased with himself as he takes a step back before I can kick him right in the balls. It’s not fair that he’s so good-looking because he’s a real asshole. As soon as I get off this death trap, I hope it does crash.

I’m halfway up when I realize the plane is already moving. Oh, God. Dropping down again, I grab the safety belt and fasten it, tightening it as hard as I can while Cage walks around the cabin like nothing is happening. Doesn’t he know he’s about to die? That we’re going to die in a minute?

“Ready for takeoff, Mr. Black,” one of the captains calls from the cockpit.

“Thanks.” Cage casually sits across from me. He doesn’t buckle up. Even though I hate him, I don’t actually want him to die.

“You’re supposed to fasten your safety belt,” I say in a small voice.

He looks at me, his eyes dark and studying. “You don’t like flying.”

I stare at him, unblinking. Is he an idiot? Was it not completely obvious to him?

My irritation quickly disappears, replaced with cold-hard, sweat-induced fear as the plane picks up speed on the runway. I grip the armrests of my seat so hard that my knuckles turn white as I wait for the moment this tuna can drops to the ground after lift-off.

“Ember.” His voice is deep yet gentle, bringing me out of the spiral of panic I’m tumbling down.

When I look at him, he isn’t smiling anymore. No, he looks concerned. And maybe even a little regretful.

He leans forward and stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “Why don’t you like flying?”

I blink as sadness takes hold of my heart and squeezes so tightly that it actually hurts. Bringing my hand up near my chin,I rub my thumb just below my lip. “My mom died in a helicopter crash when I was five.”

Almost as if I’ve slapped him, he sits back abruptly. “Fuck.”

That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else.

After a few minutes, when the pilots let him know that we’re no longer climbing altitude, he gets up and heads to the front of the plane, returning a moment later. “Here, this might help with your anxiety.” He lowers a warm blanket over me, and almost instantly, my panic eases.

Okay, that was nice of him. Maybe he’s not the worst person in the world. Maybe this time away, wherever we’re going, won’t be so bad.

Unfortunately, that comfort only lasts about twenty minutes until one of the pilots announces over the intercom, “Mr. Black, we have a plane following our tail.”

4

CAGE

I’m not a fucking bodyguard.

I don’t deal with people. Or emotions. The only woman I can handle is Rowie, and even she’s a test of my abilities sometimes.

The problem with dealing with humans is that nothing is concrete. I can calculate how long it will take for a grenade to explode or the distance I need to hit a specific target within a centimeter, but emotions have never been my strong point. Reading the room is a challenge, even on my best days. When I dropped Ember into her chair and saw the color drain from her face, I felt like the biggest asshole in the world. That was before I actually registered the look of pure fear on her face. If Rowie ever looked at me like that, I would die.

As bad as I feel, I can’t think about that right now. There are bigger issues at hand. Like, why the fuck is someone tailing us, and who are they? If they’re the people threatening Ember, it means they’ve been watching her this entire time. And if they have a plane of their own, this isn’t a simple threat. They have money, which means it’s not money they’re after. So, what could it be?

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