Page 110 of Kade

Steele gaped at me, his eyes just blinking. Wide. His jaw slacked.

“Kid!” Channing snapped his fingers in front of his face.

It did nothing.

“His name is Steele,” I said.

Channing twisted around. “Steele! Wake up, kid.” He had to get in his face before he registered him. As he did, Steele jumped backward, cursing.

“What the hell is going on here?” Phillip growled, wincing as he used the chain-link of the cage to pull himself up. Some blood trickled down his face. He reached up, touching his forehead. Pulling his hand away, there was a blank look in his eyes, as if he didn’t understand what he was seeing. He was gone. I saw it now. The anger was too much. The guy wasn’t in the room. He’d let his monster out too.

Difference was that his monster hurt kids. Mine hurt monsters like him.

Punishment. Well-intentioned discipline. Training. I had no doubt he would use those words to excuse his behavior. All would be a lie.

“Mase,” Channing barked.

I whipped around, seeing Axel bent over and vomiting. Steele looked back at me, too stunned to do anything more.

Channing jerked his hand toward Moreaux. “KO that piece of shit.”

“You were going to show that kid how to take a punch,” I taunted, my voice cold. “Let me help you out with that.” I didn’t give any more warning before bringing my fist down. I got him clear across the cheekbone, through his nose, and his body swung all the way around before falling to the cage floor.

Thud.

He was out.

I stared at him, wishing he’d open his eyes again. Round two. I was game, but nope. He was unconscious. Turning, I bent down and swept up my phone, seeing the recording stopped at some point. I looked down at it and decided to send it to Logan. It’d be an early gift for when he arrived in LA. He’d have all sorts of ideas what to do with it when—athunksounded.

My head whipped up.

Something fell from the rafters in the ceiling, a whishing sound.

It took a second for it to register, but it was a blanket. Blankets. Plural. Someone was… Was I actually seeing this? Someone was using them to slide to the ground. I looked up. Where had they come from? There were some rafters above, but this person came from the ceiling. What the—they landed with anoomphand a grunt.

She fell to her knees, but quickly got up, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m good. I’m here.”

A second person slid down after her, and this one ended on her feet. She was also wearing cowboy boots.

The first person grabbed her, steadying her.

The first person was my wife. “That was so good,” she gushed, clutching onto the second arrival.

My wife was here.

My.Wife.

I was going to explode.

She brushed off her leggings and blew out a breath, pushing some of her hair off her forehead. She’d been grinning, almost stupidly grinning, until she saw the look on my face.

She coughed and stepped back. Her mouth pursed. “Uh…”

“Heather?” Channing growled, wrapping his wife in his arms. She was the second person to have made a dramatic entrance from the ceiling.

From. The. Ceiling.

I glared at Sam. How the fuck had they gotten up there? Was there anyone else up there?

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