Page 65 of Caged Bird

I couldn’t even pretend it was Zane’s touch. I knew what that felt like now, and it was nothing like the possessive groping Eddie was fond of.

Zane’s touch was the opposite. It was sweet. Kind. Respectful.

Wanted.

So very, very wanted. Just the look we’d shared earlier before he’d gone outside had sent heat racing through my veins, and that warm bubble of attraction hadn’t disappeared since, even though he’d been out in the yard for hours.

Otis and Margaret had come inside and quietly disappeared upstairs with food I’d pressed into Margaret’s hand as she’d passed. I’d caught her arm just long enough to whisper in her ear to lock Otis’s bedroom door and barricade it with his bed or whatever else the two of them could push in front of it between the two of them.

It was the safest I could make them. I couldn’t hide Margaret in a box the way I did with Otis.

Cars and trucks and bikes rolled in, more and more people arriving for Eddie’s party, his crew and Zane ushering them all to the back of the house where I’d laid out a table with food, and drinks flowed from the keg Spider had brought.

Each new arrival sent my anxiety to a higher level, until I was visibly trembling, watching Eddie practice strutting around the house, so when he made his grand entrance to the party, he looked like the strong, in-command leader he so desperately wanted to be, so Carlos Guerra would see him as an equal.

All I could think about was the last party we’d had here. And how it had ended in a pool of blood and me spending a week wondering if I was going to die, chained up in this godforsaken house, my child perishing right along with me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get myself under control.

That wasn’t going to happen again.

Zane had promised he wasn’t leaving without me.

Maybe it was stupid to believe him, when he was just as much a prisoner here as I was, but my heart needed to. When Zane had made that promise, I’d seen the raw honesty of it in his eyes, and I’d known he meant every word.

We would get out.

We had to.

The looks he shot me from the back of the yard filled me with a hope I had no right feeling.

Eddie peeped out and swore beneath his breath. “They’re here.”

“Who?”

“Guerra and his wife.” Eddie grinned at me. “A partnership with them is going to mean big things for me, Peach. BIG things.”

I didn’t know what that meant, and I didn’t want to know.

If Eddie wanted to be in business with someone, I doubted they were people I wanted to have anything to do with. So I just murmured an obligatory, “Good luck.”

His cocky arrogance rose to the surface. “Don’t need luck. They’ll be begging for me to step up and take on a bigger role before the end of the night. I’ve been fucking spotless for them. Never missed a payment or a delivery. I’ve earned my place at Guerra’s side, Peach. He fucking owes me.”

I just nodded, unable to dredge up any more empty words for a man who only wanted his ego fed. “I’ll go outside and make sure the food isn’t running low.”

Eddie nodded. “Good. And then I’ll make my entrance.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and turned away before he could see my expression.

I pushed my way through the back door and hurried down the steps quietly, hoping I blended into the shadows of the night. Zane had replaced the bulb in the single spotlight that helped light the yard, and he’d piled up wood for a bonfire which now crackled with flames, spreading a soft orange glow that helped the spotlight along.

There was enough light to see the large group that had gathered to party, some perched on the old stone retaining wall,others on the array of mismatched cheap plastic chairs we’d collected over the years from God only knows where. Probably the side of the road.

Eddie made his grand entrance to cheers and wolf whistles from his crew, and he smiled charmingly, descending the stairs without so much as a grimace, though I knew it had to be hurting him.

Or maybe that handful of pills he’d downed in the kitchen was already working.

I found a shadowy spot at the edge of the pool of light to watch Eddie’s triumphant public return to the land of the living. There was more than one, “Takes more than a bullet to slow me down,” type statements from his obnoxious mouth, each one making me hate him just a little bit more.

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