8. Cage

8

CAGE

I ’m not sure what Rowie said to Ember earlier, but Ember hasn’t stopped glancing at me since.

Almost as soon as Rowie greeted me, it was like Ember shut down. The light in her eyes dimmed. I didn’t understand it, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“What do you know about your father’s business dealings?”

Ember startles and whirls around to look at me. Her hands are full of clothes. I’m pleased she’s unpacking and not planning to live out of her bag. That would have driven me up the wall. I would have probably found myself in her room at some point unpacking her clothes, which she would likely think was crossing a boundary, but I don’t give a fuck. I like order.

A glimmer of purple catches my eye on the bed. I look down at the stuffed dragon lying on the comforter right behind her. A toy. Cute. Ember’s gaze follows mine, and as soon as it falls on the stuffie, she gasps and drops a armful of clothes on top of it.

“It’s okay to have a stuffed toy, firefly. Lots of people have them.”

She raises an eyebrow, her cheeks turning pink. “Do you?”

I chuckle and step into the room. “No. But you do, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

When I sit on the edge of the bed and uncover the dragon, she snatches it up before I can and pushes it into her bag, her entire face flushed.

“I’m not ashamed,” she says quietly, a hint of sadness there.

“Then why are you hiding it?”

Her head is lowered. Shoulders slumped. I don’t like it.

“Ember, tell me.”

She shifts uncomfortably as I wait in silence for an answer. I’ll sit here all day until she tells me. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like whatever her reasoning is, but I still want to know.

“I used to get made fun of at school for having one. Some of the girls stole a stuffed toy that my mom gave me a few months before she died.”

Jolting off the bed, I let out a string of curse words.

“Who the fuck are they? I want names. Right fucking now.”

Ember turns her gaze to me, her eyes wide. “What? Why? It doesn’t matter, Cage. It was when I was in boarding school. I just, I don’t want anyone to hurt Spike.”

Spike. That’s fucking cute. It’s also cute that her toy is a dragon.

“I want names,” I repeat, scowling as I pull out my phone. “Who are they?”

I don’t give a fuck who they were or where it happened; what those girls did is unforgivable. It doesn’t matter that they’re women. Some men have morals when it comes to hurting women, but when it comes to someone hurting what’s mine, I have no morals whatsoever.

Fuck. Did I seriously just think of her as mine? What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m not giving you names.”

“Why not?” I put my hands on my hips and glare at her.

She mirrors me, and it’s adorable that she thinks she looks fierce. “Would you give me the names of every person who ever wronged you if I asked?”

“I can give you a list, but they’re all already dead, so it wouldn’t really be useful for you.”

Her mouth falls open, and she stares at me like she’s not sure if she should run away or report me to the cops. Good luck with either. I’d catch her in two strides, and the cops wouldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.

“Calm down, firefly. I’m not going to hurt them. I just want to make them suffer a little. Maybe have their hairdresser accidentally melt off their hair or something. A waxing mishap. A fungal infection on their toenails. Nothing drastic.”

She blinks. Once, twice, a third time. Then she shakes her head.

“You are truly fucking crazy, you know that?”

I smile. “It appears that way, but I’m actually not. I’ve been through rigorous testing.”

“Cage,” she whispers, curling in on herself. “Please.”

Furrowing my eyebrows, I really look at her. Her bottom lip trembles.

Shit. I’m scaring her.

“Ember, I was kidding,” I go to her and sit on the bed again, putting myself at eye level. “Firefly, breathe. Fuck. I was trying to joke around with you.”

Mostly. I do like the idea of those women’s hair melting off. It wouldn’t cause permanent damage, unlike what they did to Ember, but it would definitely upset them.

“Really?” she asks.

Grabbing her wrists, I pull her down to sit beside me, then lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

“I’m not the best at reading social situations or people’s emotions. I try, but I don’t always catch on right away. I didn’t mean to upset or scare you, though.”

“You also have no boundaries,” she murmurs.

I chuckle. “As you’ve mentioned.”

When she doesn’t say anything, I stand and point toward her buried dragon. “You never have to hide that stuff from me or anyone else here. In fact, I’ll be upset if you do. Okay?”

Just as I reach the doorway, she sighs. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry I haven’t been easy either. I’ll try to be less difficult.”

I turn and face her, warmth spreading in my chest. “I won’t be happy if you do that, too.”

“Do what?” She turns her wide, chocolate eyes up toward me.

“Try to be less difficult. Just be yourself, Ember. That’s the version of you I want to see.”

She smiles and pulls her knees up to her chest before she gives a single nod.

“Dinner is at six sharp every night. Everyone who is at home is required to show. I’d like it if you came as well.”

“Oh. Um.” She scratches her temple and looks around nervously. “Okay. Should I dress up? I didn’t bring anything nice, though.”

“Firefly,” I say softly, breaking her out of her panic. “Come however you’re comfortable. Half the time, Rowie is already in her pajamas at dinner. We will welcome you no matter what. Connecting with family is more important to us than what we’re wearing. You’re part of the family… while you’re here.”

Adding in that last part felt like swallowing acid, but I need the reminder that Ember will only be here for a short amount of time. Once she’s gone, I’ll go back to my life doing regular missions, and she’ll go back to hers doing whatever she chooses. She’ll probably find some rich, sophisticated guy to marry and have kids with.

I wince at the thought. I don’t fucking like the idea of that. Not one goddamn bit. Especially since the asshole won’t appreciate her the way he should. He probably won’t care about making her orgasm. I already hate the guy. Fuck, maybe I should go on a killing spree and get rid of any asshole her father might see as a potential son-in-law.

“Cage?” Ember asks, her brows scrunched together.

Shaking my head, I push away all the bullshit running through my mind and offer her a forced smile. “Yep, sorry. I’ll see you in a bit.”

And then I get the fuck out of her room before I do or say something I’ll regret.

“ Y ou’re sure I look okay?”

If she asks me that one more damn time, I’m going to end up telling her in full fucking detail just how okay she looks. When she met me downstairs in the entryway to head over to the main house, I nearly told her to turn around and change. I don’t want my brothers seeing her in those tight fucking leggings and loose crop top that shows off a sliver of her tummy. I thought about making her wear one of my hoodies that would surely reach her knees. Actually, that’s a good fucking idea.

“I’ll be right back.” I take the stairs two at a time and return with a sweatshirt in hand. “It’s chilly out. Put this on.”

“It’s huge.”

I bite back my smart-ass response about other things that are huge and shrug. “Put it on.”

She takes it from me and sniffs it, then hesitates. What the hell? It’s clean. Does she not want to wear it because it’s mine? Does she hate me that much?

Finally, she pulls it over her head. As soon as she does, my cock goes rigid. For fuck’s sake. I’m going to dress her in my clothes every goddamn day she’s here.

“Better. You’ll be warmer.” Because what’s important is that she’s warm. Not that her perfect body is hidden behind my clothes. It has nothing to do with that at all.

The main house is loud when we walk in. Someone is screaming at the TV, which is pretty typical whenever we watch sports. Rowie is curled up against Theo, sleeping with a pacifier in her mouth. It’s the strangest thing. She can sleep through us yelling, but not through a rainstorm.

Fuck. I probably should have warned Ember about Rowie being Little. I didn’t think about the things that make it glaringly obvious, like her using a pacifier. If Ember doesn’t know anything about the lifestyle, it might come as a shock to her.

I keep my eyes focused on Ember as her gaze lands on Rowie. No one else has noticed us yet so I get this moment to watch as a small smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. Then she sighs and glances up at me, her cheeks a soft pink hue.

“Hey,” Rylan greets, interrupting the moment. “Dinner’s almost done. Excited to have you here with us, Ember. I hope you like homemade pizza.”

Ember’s eyes light up as she bobs her head. “Sounds amazing. Do you need help?”

“Thanks, pipsqueak, but I got it.” Rylan starts to walk away but pauses and turns back toward me. “Love the sweatshirt, by the way. Sure you didn’t want to just make a sign?”

I glare at him while Ember looks between us trying to figure out what Rylan meant. Then he just strolls off to the kitchen, laughing like the asshole that he is.

“You glare at him a lot.”

Tilting my head down to look at Ember, I shrug. “He’s an asshole a lot.”

“Are you sure it’s just him?” a guy asks as he approaches.

Ember snorts, using the back of her hand to hide her laughter. Brat.

Theo smirks at me and then focuses his attention on her. “You must be Ember. I’m Theo.”

Polite as can be, she shakes his hand and smiles. It’s the kind of handshake a politician gives to people. Rigid. Forced, but with a smile. Why did she do that?

As soon as Theo lets go of her hand, which is as quickly as he could without offending her, Ember steps closer to me. Is she scared? That doesn’t seem right. If she were, she wouldn’t be so sassy with me. I may not be the biggest or the scariest-looking guy in the family, but I’m also no one to blink an eye at either.

Once Theo leaves us, I corner her. “What’s wrong? Why were you hiding behind me? Do you need to go potty?”

Ember gasps and looks up at me like I asked if she wants to go to space. Good lord, she’s touchy about her bathroom habits.

“No. I don’t. I’m fine.”

I lean down so we’re face to face, and with every breath I take, I get the lingering smell of her vanilla body spray mixed with the scent of my sweatshirt. The two combined make my cock go rock hard as something possessive swirls inside me. Fuck, I like that. I bet she’s as fucking edible as she smells.

“You’re a shitty liar, firefly. Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

She shoots me an irritated look, but her shoulders drop. “I’m having a panic attack. Being around a lot of people who I don’t know is hard for me. I’m fine. I just need to get over it.”

What the fuck? Get over it? Who told her that BS? Because that’s what it is, and I’m going to make it perfectly fucking clear right now.

“Go.” I nudge her toward a hall that will lead to the back stairwell.

Ember lets me lead her to the second-floor landing before she stops in her tracks.

“Where are we going?” she demands.

“Into my bedroom. Come on, firefly.”

She hesitates for just a second before she enters the room I use when I stay in the main house. We all take turns rotating so someone is always here with Rowie.

“Sit.” I point to the bed, pleased when she follows my instructions. She’s breathing heavily and looks exhausted. Maybe I should have tucked her into bed instead of bringing her over for dinner. But for some reason, I wanted her here. I’m going to keep telling myself it’s because when my eyes are on her, I can ensure she’s totally safe, but in reality, she’s safe anywhere on The Ranch. Our land is completely secure.

I go directly into the bathroom and get a washcloth, then run cold water over it and wring it out.

“Here. It’s cold and will help soothe you. Take some slower breaths, baby.”

As soon as the word comes out, I freeze and stare at her, but she doesn’t seem to catch it because she’s staring off into the distance. Shit. I know nothing about this girl. If Ruth had given me a proper heads-up, I would have gone over her doctor’s notes. I would most likely already know she has anxiety. Then maybe I wouldn’t have forced her onto a goddamn plane.

I lower myself to one knee in front of her and rest my hand on her thigh, slowly moving my thumb in gentle strokes.

“Feel me touching you, firefly. Each time I stroke your leg back and forth, count it.”