Page 51 of Caged Bird

It was the first time I’d seen a device since I’d gotten here. If I could somehow get it away from them, maybe I could call for help. I didn’t know who, since the police clearly weren’t an option, but a phone would be a chance.

Apparently, even after last night, I couldn’t turn off the instinct that screamed not to give up. To keep trying, despite the danger.

Guilt turned my stomach to lead. It was my fault he’d hurt her.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling I had to try again. It burned inside me. Hot and demanding. Because what was the alternative?

Eddie would call me arrogant for still thinking there was something I could do.

But to me, it just felt like there was no other option. Leaving her and Otis here, locked in this house, or all of us living out our lives like this, was unthinkable.

I faked sleep, forcing my breaths to be slow, deep, and even. Though, somehow, I doubted I’d been that peaceful earlier. I was in too much pain, both of the physical and emotional variety, but it was unlikely my brother would have noticed. It wasn’t like psychopaths felt empathy.

Closing my eyes meant all my other senses sharpened. Soft noises came from the kitchen, the sizzle of bacon and the scent of toast wafting up the stairs.

“Food’s ready,” Fawn said quietly.

It was agony not to open my eyes to check she was okay. But logically, I knew she wouldn’t be, and that us getting a look at that phone was what was most important.

There was a clinking of cutlery, then Fawn’s sweet voice. “There’s plates out, just come pick what you want.”

In a scramble of heavy boots, Santos and Ward moved into the kitchen and clattered around with what sounded like serving tongs.

Fawn cleared her throat again. “Eddie, I can put yours on a plate so you don’t have to get up—”

There was a groan from his recliner and a squeak of protest from the floorboards at the foot of the stairs as he crossed the room. His voice was low when he snarled, “I’m perfectly capable of putting some fucking eggs on a plate. Didn’t I prove that to you last night?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then don’t try making me look weak in front of my guys. You saw how well that worked for Zane.”

The fight to stay still and not react was agonizing.

Eddie’s little ruse had obviously fallen apart, and I was no longer being touted as the brother he’d brought in to take over. No, clearly, I’d been demoted to slave, and Eddie, bullet wound and all, had put himself back in charge.

It wasn’t surprising. Eddie had never been able to be anything other than top dog, and even me pretending to take his place had clearly irked him so badly he’d only been able to last a few days. He now had to show his dominance again.

Hence why I was locked up on the stairs, bruised and beaten while I’d been unconscious. On display for Eddie’s guys to see so they knew exactly what he was capable of if you stepped out of the lines he drew.

“I’m sorry,” Fawn whispered. “It won’t happen again.”

I fought not to react to her subservience. But her soft obedience made me want to launch up off the stairs and throw myself at my brother. To claw his fucking eyeballs out with my nails so he could never look at her again. To break every finger sobadly they had to amputate, so he could never touch her like he had last night.

But that would be suicide.

I might have had a hope before the chains. Before he’d weakened us both, and when it was just him against me. But now, with his friends waiting to prove how loyal they were in the face of my betrayal, trying to jump Eddie was plain dumb.

So instead, I waited, straining my ears, hoping for a moment I wasn’t sure would come.

I pushed away all the other noise and waited for the telltale thud of Eddie putting down the phone.

It came like music to my ears. He needed both hands to carry his plate and serve his own food.

I made my move, not knowing exactly what my plan was, but fully believing I had to try something. Standing, I stumbled into the kitchen, making a racket, drawing all attention my way. “Need food.” I shoved my way between the men scooping Fawn’s bacon and eggs onto their plates and nabbed a piece of bacon with one hand like I was a starving man.

And the phone with the other, slipping it into my pocket.

It was a skill Eddie had taught me as a kid, how to lift something so the owner didn’t notice. He’d made me steal all sorts of things from candy to cigarettes to pretty much any random item, even if it had no value.

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