Page 67 of Caging Fire
And last, though my heart resisted, I couldn’t help but imagine Killian’s face when he learned of my betrayal. It would wound him the most, not just because of his sensitive nature, but because I turned our moment of closeness, something real and fragile, into a weapon. I used the warmth of my touch, the quiet affection between us, to cloak my betrayal and slip away. I stole not just his keycard, but the trust he had freely offered me. In doing so, I would shatter that trust, and he would replace his reverence for me with guarded steel. He would learn to hate me, not out of anger, but out of heartbreak.
And the tragedy of it all was that as I made my plan to walk away, I realized I cared for him.
Maybe I cared for them all in their own way.
I considered not going through with my plan. Maybe I could leave the keycard under my bed, and when Killian finally realized it was gone and came looking for it, he would simply think that it had fallen from his pants onto the floor. My betrayal would not come to pass, and I wouldn’t shatter his trust.
If I didn't leave, was it possible that I could build something honest and real with all of them? It had been such a relief to live my life free from lies and the overwhelming pressure of being caught in them.
Suddenly, another thought and image appeared in my mind. I saw my small potted cactus, wilted and shriveled, clinging to life as it patiently waited for me to water it. In my mind, I toured my home, revisiting all my favorite places. I yearned to curl up in my dad’s old leather armchair and read a book. As I flipped through memories, and longed to see my little cottage, my resolve to escape cemented itself.
I gripped the keycard tightly and told myself, “I’m going home.”
When Killian's footsteps receded, I slipped out of the bed as stealthily as I could, crouching on the ground and pressing my ear to the door, listening for movement. I would need to be sure no one was in the common space, or my escape would be over before it even began. Muffled voices filtered through the door and I strained my hearing, trying to make out the words. I recognized Cade’s voice. Killian wasn’t speaking, so I assumed he must have been signing in response. Ryker and Talon soon joined them.
I couldn’t hear the full extent of the conversation as they were talking just out of range of my hearing. But from the bits and pieces I could hear, I learned they were planning to request atransfer back to the Border Front Base. From the sound of it, they wanted to leave soon.
If Arca transferred our unit, they would drag me kicking and screaming along with them. There would be absolutely no hope of escape if that happened, which meant getting my hands on Killian’s key card couldn’t have come at a better time. I was not turning back now that I knew it was my only chance.
“I’m going to go jack-off to thoughts of Kitten’s tight pussy. Hopefully she’ll visit me in my dreams and fuck me, like she fucked the rest of you assholes,” Ryker said.
He was so vulgar, but I couldn’t help smiling over the fact that he wanted me to visit him in his dreams.
“Me too. Not the jacking off part, the leaving to go to bed part,” Talon said. I'm sure he had just rolled his eyes at Ryker.
I listened as two chairs scraped across the floor, and footsteps grew closer and then farther as they receded down the hallway. I distantly heard two doors close. Cade and Killian continued to sit at the dining room table. It was completely silent for a long while, so I assumed that if they were communicating, it was through signing.
Cade finally broke the silence, responding to something Killian had said with, “It’s okay, Brother. Rowan will come around, and I’ll adjust my approach. I’ve always found safety in control. It’s how we’ve survived. But she needs more than that. I get it.”
So they had been talking about me.
Was bossy, self-assured Cade really considering what I needed?
He wasn’t planning to apologize, but he said he would give me more. What did “more” even look like with Cade? Could he surrender the need to shape everything, let go of his obsession with submission and order, to give me “more?” I imagined Cade freeing himself of his overwhelming need for control—losing himself in me, laughing in that unguarded way he did only when we were alone. The way he touched me gently, to soothe my nerves and quiet my soul in those rare moments, was what I needed from him consistently.
I shoved those thoughts aside. Why was I even considering it? Cade was the reason Alex had dissolved our friendship. Cade was the reason they kidnapped me and forced me into service with Arca. Cade was the enemy.
They all were.
I listened closely as I heard one chair scrape across the floor and then another.
“I’m going to check on Rowan and give her some more Tylenol. She had a pretty high fever, and she’s due for medicine,” I heard Cade say before a cabinet door opened and he rifled through it.
Shit!He was coming in here!
I scrambled from the floor, slipping back into the bed as quietly as I could, hiding the key card between the pages of Treasure Island, which sat on my nightstand. I tried to even out my breath, forcing my eyelids to get heavy and my body to become calm. His steps grew closer, and the door clicked open.
Cade stood in the doorway, watching me. He didn’t move for a while until finally I heard his feet carrying him closer. A warm palm pressed against my forehead, and a whispered voice sounded to wake me from my pretend slumber.
“Rowan. Rowan, wake up, Baby.”
Shit,he called me Baby. Cade rarely used pet names, and my heart lurched at this unusual sweet affection. I rubbed my eyes, pretending to be sleepy before responding.
“Cade? What are you doing?”
“Are you still mad at me?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Yes,” I responded dryly.
