Chapter 5
5
CADEN
S he was still fucking breathing.
A-fuckin’-live, god dammit.
The burn in her chest and back was evidence of that unfortunate state of being. Obviously, getting dead was going to be a harder endeavor than the merc anticipated. She’d been pretty goddamn sure that Kyott was gonna stop pussy footing around that last go around, but the rat bastard hadn’t.
Instead, the man had questioned her. Kyott and his fuck-head goons had questioned her.
While she hung like a slab of meat from a hook and they’d lashed her back to pieces, they had fucking interrogated her.
At first, it had been about a stupid goddamn fucking statue. A statue she had long since stolen and sold to the highest bidder in Montreal. Apparently, it had gotten nicked again and Kyott, the dumb fuck that he was, thought she was responsible.
He wanted a fucking jeweled elephant. A statue she hadn’t touched in years. And when he got no other response than, ‘No dumb-fuck, I don’t have it’, he moved on to other questions.
Like where was her stash? Everyone and their mothers knew full well she had to have a stash of art, weapons, and gold. She was Caden Quinn. Where the fuck was her stash?
Then he got down to the list of people she had worked for in the past. Harrington was of special interest to him.
Which didn’t bode well for her plans.
It wasn’t torture for torture’s sake anymore.
Soon, though, he’d get tired of asking and remember exactly why she was on his ‘To Kill’ list.
Evil-little-piddly-shit sons didn’t grow on trees.
The opening and closing of the cell door was what slapped her back to reality. Not Savage or his snoring. Not even the fact that he was still invading her personal space and was he—he was fucking drooling on her hand. The back of her hand was pillowing his stupid head like he could trust her not to kill him in his sleep.
Which, okay, she wouldn’t kill him, but he was operating under the assumption that she was a good person and that was just wrong. The only people to trust her that much were all dead. Still, though, the fact that he trusted her enough to fall asleep around her was... refreshing.
Caden didn’t know what to think about that. So she ignored his snoring, drooling, and explicit trust and took evaluation of her hurts.
The agony of her lashed-up back had all but dulled while she slept. Now it was a burning ache she could shove to the back of her mind and forget about. She could ignore the fact that every time she moved a scab broke open or the ones that were too deep to scab felt like they were ripping deeper into her muscle.
What she could not ignore, however, was the fullness of her bladder and how badly she needed to piss.
But Savage was right there and the thought of pissing into the designated bucket in the corner of the room while he was not five feet from her was an embarrassing one.
And also frustrating as all hell. She never had qualms about pissing in front of Se?or Rapist. Not particularly liking that little revelation, Caden couldn’t help but snarl.
“Get off me, Savage.” She took her hand back as violently as possible.
Savage, the precious soul that he was, bolted upright, still drooling down his chin, and moved over her. Like he was protecting her from an attack. Unsure what to do with that, she kept snarling and wiped his slobber off her hand. Confused and pissed and... weirded out was a combination of emotions Caden didn’t like feeling.
“You okay?” He was up and moving towards the food and water.
“Do you think you could maybe keep your drool to yourself? Or, I don’t know, sleep on your side of the room!”
He only smiled, a smile that was not at all diminished by the swollen lip or the two black eyes, in response. The welts on his torso had pretty much faded, but the bruises were vivid against his skin. Still, though, he was not at all hard to look at. What with his back muscles all flexing and his arms stretching. Nope, no problem at all with looking at him. She was just having a problem with the looking away part. Dammit.
“What?” He caught her staring and glanced down at his chest. “Stop looking at my nipples.” He placed her own bowl of white snot in front of her and moved to put an arm over his chest. “I’m cold, okay.”
He took a seat by her head and swallowed his own in three gulps, shivering as it went down.
“Ugh, it’s like eating Maddox’s cooking. Cept less burnt.” He was grinning again until she made no move to touch her own food. “Aren’t ya gonna eat?”
“That’d be counterproductive.”
He only scowled at that and nudged it closer, looking like he was contemplating shoving it down her throat. But he let out a sigh and slid over till he was even with her back.
Caden didn’t bother fighting when he hovered over her and examined her back. She’d probably piss herself from the effort. His fingers were gentle on her back. Caden didn’t like it or him, for that matter. He was annoying and god, he just had to waltz in and ruin everything.
“I have to piss.”
“Okay.” His hands moved to her shoulders, and Caden couldn’t help but growl. “Are you—are you actually growling at me?”
“I don’t need your help, Savage.” Caden pushed herself to her feet and watched through narrowed eyes as the man put his hands in the air.
“You’re hurt, Quinn.” He was all aghast, like it was madness, allowing her to get to her two feet without aid. Like she was some delicate little flower that would collapse at the slightest breeze.
“Yeah, no shit.”
Pain was the one constant in her life. It wasn’t some foreign thing she’d never dealt with before. It wasn’t terrible or all-consuming. It just was.
Most times, it served as a reality check; she was not a machine and she should stop pretending she was.
Other times, it was a reminder that her life was and always had been shit.
But Caden had learned a long time ago exactly how to grin and bear it. A ripped-up back was nothing comparatively. Still, though, it hurt like a bitch.
So she did what she’d always done. Pushed the pain to the back of her mind and focused on her goal. Getting to and pissing in the bucket across the room.
Easier done than said really, seeing as how it was walking and squatting.
“Anyone ever compliment you on your friendly disposition, Quinn?” He was getting snarky.
“Not anybody that likes breathin’.” Which was a lie because nobody actually ever commented on any part of her shining personality.
Even before all the stealing and killing, conversation with other people mostly consisted of one-word sentences and a good arm’s length of space away from her. People, Caden realized, didn’t much like her.
He scoffed and, very much like the gentlemen he was, turned so he was facing away from her. Another little show of trust that Caden herself wouldn’t give to another human being so freely. Which really wasn’t saying much, being who she was and all.
“So... do you mind me askin’ how you wound up in here?” With his back turned towards the light, Caden could make out a couple of different scars that had long since healed. He’d been shot in the back. And it looked like he’d taken a knife to the side and whirled away from it.
“My last job went south, got nabbed, and auctioned off to the highest bidder.” Muscles burning, blood drizzling down her back, and feeling like a million fucking bucks, she reached the bucket.
What she didn’t say was that she really hadn’t tried all that hard to escape the first ass-hat. She’d gone into the first job looking to take a bullet or a knife somewhere fatal, and when that didn’t happen—well, she was nothing if not persistent.
“Highest bidder? You mean Kyott paid money for you just so he could hurt you?” He was all incredulous, like he couldn’t imagine such a thing. “Well damn, what’d you do to him?”
“Killed his bouncing baby boy in Ireland last year.” Caden bit back the urge to explain herself to him. She did not feel guilty for taking that little pervert out and she didn’t have to justify her actions to him, even if she felt like he was judging her. Dammit. “You can turn around now.” What she needed was a change of clothes. She’d been in the same jeans for two fire-fights, a few tussles in the mud, and then the bleeding. Most of it was someone else’s, which made it that much more gross.
He didn’t respond, only watched her like a hawk while she took up a bit of concrete as far as she could get away from him. As soon as she’d settled back skyward and head in her arms, he stood and stretched.
Caden tried very hard not to gawk like a schoolgirl as the man exercised. But really there wasn’t much else, besides a few rats and the gray walls, to stare at. So Caden gave up, pretending that she wasn’t perving over his finely toned abs and arms and watched as he went through a few quick exercises. After a good forty-five minutes of him workin’ up a sweat, he finally stretched again and took the spot by her head.
“Okay, Caden, we are gonna get the hell outta here. Together—we’re both alive in that scenario, just F-Y-I. But first we gotta fix... this.” He motioned towards her sprawled figure with both hands.
“Savage,” How many different ways was she gonna have to say it? “you don’t seem to be comprehending this. You don’t get a choice. So leave me the fuck alone.” Maybe she could request a different roommate.
“Yeah, and I believe we’ve already been over this whole ‘I’m not gonna let you kill yourself’ thing.” His deep voice took on a slightly elevated ‘duh’ tone that grated on her already fried nerves, like she was the one that was too thick to get it. “So, uh... do you wanna talk about it?”
Caden curled her lip at his stupid, sincere face and laughed outright. He only frowned and gave a disapproving look. A look that served to not only piss her off, but make her feel guilty at the same time. Maybe if she didn’t engage him, he’d stop. Eventually, the man would recognize a lost cause. He wasn’t stupid.
“Okay fine, I’ll start.” He scooted over so he wasn’t crowding her and crossed his arms over his bruised chest. “I, uh... I’ve been retired from the agency for two years now. You may have noticed?”
He looked down all expectantly at her and Caden decided to stop looking at him as well.
“Of course, I noticed, Savage. There’s been a big gaping hole in my life since you’ve been gone.” Voice high and squeaky, like he was channeling a thirteen-year-old girl. “You were the very best and the most handsome agent on my case.”
“Well, Quinn, I’d miss me too. What with my extraordinary good looks and keen sense of style, no longer a major presence in your life... I can understand you getting all emotional like that.”
“Keen sense of style!?” Now he was lying through his teeth. “Savage—you are the worst dressed man I have ever—there is nothing keen about socks and sandals! Or fanny packs!”
Dammit, she’d engaged.
“That was one time!” He was scoffing and all kinds of outraged now. “My shoes were wet! And it was cold, which was why I was wearing socks! And I was playing a part with the fanny pack.”
Caden couldn’t help but smirk at the memory. He’d caught up to her in Liverpool and it finally came down to blows when he refused to shoot her. They’d both taken a tumble into a body of water. He’d arrested her (only because Caden panicked and froze in the water) and marched her back to his hotel. Where he’d promptly handed her off to the local official idiots to be held until the next plane to the States. She’d, of course, escaped—compared to Marskib’s dungeons, damn near everything was escapable.
“Let’s see... what could we talk about?” He settled against the wall, obviously readying himself for a long wait, and started in on his job. Or ex-job.
The first ninety minutes were interesting enough. He recounted every single case he’d worked on in the five years he’d been an agent. Though, much like a government man, kept names and real-time details to himself. The merc liked hearing how he went about successfully trapping and arresting other thieves.
But hour three rolled around and he was showing no sign of stopping or even slowing. Sure there’d be lulls in the one-sided conversation where he’d get up to take a lap around the small space, pause to think on the next topic, and go to the bathroom. But right when she was about to nod off, he’d start up again and slap her back into reality. As hard as she tried, his voice was too gravelly and deep to block out.
When he’d exhausted art theft, past missions, the finer points of accurate record keeping, and how he only missed being a government bloodhound occasionally, Caden was starting to get frustrated. He moved on from government work to his time as a Special Ops Soldier. And not even the good bits, it was another long list of How To’s.
Proper gun care, how to correctly setup camp, evading the enemy, the importance of foot care whilst in the field, his absolute hatred for MREs and how much he missed Ellen’s cooking when he was in the field. She tried to fall asleep but every time she nodded off, his voice cut through her doze and slapped her right back into awake mode.
Hour four was when her resolve to not kill the bastard started to waver. How could any human being talk for four hours straight and still have something to say? But Caden beat that urge back down, remembered that she didn’t kill good men, and breathed deeply.
If she could perch on a window ledge for seven hours to wait for the leader of the Azarik to walk through her crosshairs, then she sure as fuck could listen for hours on end while he jabbered on. She would outlast him. There was no other option; she was going to beat him. He was eventually gonna run out of things to say.
She’d actually managed to doze off near hour six (six hours and her ears had grown accustomed to the tilts and twangs of his southern drawl so it became easier to block him out) and woke up to him still gabbing away. Judging by the color of daytime coming through the tiny window, she’d been out at least two hours.
He’d moved on from tedious How To’s and started talking about random shit. Like how much he hated reality TV—‘cause first of all, there was nothing realistic about it and secondly, it was horrible. He’d had to endure it for a whole three days when he got out of intensive care. Caden wanted to ask what the hell was he doing in the ICU in the first place but squashed the urge. Reminding herself that she didn’t give a shit, and she was supposed to be focusing on dying.
“I have a problem with teal. I don’t know what it is about half blue and half green, but I hate it. Even the word is ugly. Teal. Blue and green are fine by themselves, but when they are together... it’s ugly.”
Tater-tots were put on the earth for his sole enjoyment and don’t tell anybody, especially not his brothers, but he was a huge fan of Martha Stewart. He and Ellen, well his adopted mother, watched the show together whenever he was home. A lot more recently since he’d retired and was currently mostly unemployed.
It was mostly because Jackson, one of his brothers, had roped him into this part-time Security Consultant job. But honestly, his heart wasn’t really in it. Again, don’t tell his brothers, because he was sure as hell gonna figure his own shit out in time. He probably just needed some time away from death.
He’d stopped briefly for the delivery of their daily snot quota. Made sure her bowl was in easy reach and started again after he’d downed his.
“I mean—come on, how many legs do ya need?! Eight, I can understand. Eight is practical when you’re an insect. But eighty freaking legs! No, it’s actually eighty to a thousand little legs. Nothin’ needs that many legs. That’s purely for scaring people. And I can admit that I do literally get struck dumb with terror. Oh man, you shoulda seen my brothers.” He let out a soft chuckle, and Caden couldn’t help the upward turn of her own lips at the sound.
“Every last one of ‘em are these big, hardcore, highly trained soldiers. And we were all spending Thanksgiving at my parents’ house. I saw a millipede in the basement—I mean, a firefight or any angry Brazilian mob I’m fine with but a zillion little crawling legs and—ugh!”
He shivered beside her, and Caden had to bite back a laugh. Nathan himself was a big, hardcore, highly trained soldier and here he was admitting to being terrified of a bug.
“Anyway, I screamed loudly and very much like a little girl. All my brothers come hurdling down the stairs. Guns drawn and ready to down the intruder. They’ll never let me live that down. Ever.
“Oh, and then there was that time I peed my pants in public. Another thing they’ll never stop reminding me of. I get adult diapers at least one holiday a year. Bunch of assholes.” He was shaking his head ruefully and when he saw that she was looking at him, he started looking all expectantly again. Like how dare she not immediately shoot down that confession with disbelief? A man like Nathan Savage would never lose control of his own bladder.
“How did you lose control of your bladder, Nathan?” All high and squeaky again, he added a hand flourish and batted his eyelashes. Jerk.
He paused again, giving her the chance to actually ask, and Caden couldn’t hold her vigil any longer.
“ You ? Pee yourself in public?” She added a gasp to drive the sarcasm home for him. “No! That couldn’t possibly be true.”
“Well, Caden, not that I appreciate the mockery, as I am baring my soul and all, but since you asked, I’ll tell ya.”
When she shifted to maneuver her body around to get some feeling back in her legs, his arms shot out to help her. Caden flashed her canines at him and moved to a sitting position out of his reach. Mostly scabs now. Her back was no longer on fire every time she moved, though she wouldn’t be lying on her back anytime soon.
“This was in high school, mind you, so it was like ten times more embarrassing.” He handed over her bowl, and Caden took it without thinking. “I had pneumonia in... freshman year, I think. Yeah, ‘cause it was right after Ellen and Bobby adopted us. Anyway, the medication I was on was still in my system and I just... I just peed. I couldn’t have stopped it. I only knew I was peeing ‘cause I felt something hot on my leg and some kid started pointing and laughing at me.” He shook his head again and squinched his eyes like he was in pain.
“It was, of course, in the middle of the cafeteria and one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done. Everyone, the lunch ladies, the kids in the corner, the kids in the hall— everyone saw. The girl I was dating at the time dumped me like then and there. My brothers had a laugh but beat the hell out of everyone else, that was. We all ended up in suspension. Lots of bowel-related jokes after that.
“What about you? Got any embarrassing and traumatizing high school stories?”
“Not really... I, uh... I tripped some kid in the hallway once. She wasn’t hurt or anything, but she started crying and ran away.” Which had been awkward and weird at the time until she found out that a rumor of her gouging out somebody’s eyes had been going around. In which case, bursting into tears and running away was definitely understandable.
“ You cried and ran away?” His head tilted like he wasn’t comprehending.
“No, she did.” Caden shrugged and hissed as a jolt of pain coursed through her system at the movement. “I dropped out my sophomore year so I don’t really have many embarrassing moments.”
Once, when she was first learning to drive, she’d accidentally driven down the wrong side of the road for like a mile, which would have been embarrassing had anyone been in the car with her, but no one had been. She’d dropped a whole box of tomatoes at one of her part-time jobs, but the embarrassment had lasted all of ten seconds before it just became more annoying than anything.
Why the hell was she sharing to begin with?
“Oh well, I’ve got enough for the both of us. More than I really care to admit to actually, but hey, what the hell?” He settled against the wall and started in on the list of his top fifteen most embarrassing moments.
Number seven was about the time Caden realized she was not only smiling, listening intently, but also eating the bowl of snot.
No , it wasn’t his doing.
Caden just needed to switch positions every couple of hours or her limbs were gonna fall off. And fuck, it wasn’t like the slop was doing anything to replenish the nutrients and shit in her body. So why not drink it? If Caden had to describe the white-lumpy-syrupy-snot as anything, it would be most like curdled milk; slightly thick and bouncy, but more liquid than anything. It actually required a combination of chewing and swallowing she was probably never gonna get used to.
It wasn’t the fact that Savage was talking to her like she was a human being and not the Terminator (before his wires got all crossed).
Nor was it because another human was so openly sharing things that were obviously personal and embarrassing with her. Her.
It wasn’t even the fact that he was once again demonstrating his weird and candid trust in her by telling her about himself.
It was not because her gut was doing weird things at the prospect of being treated like a normal, nonviolent-person-who-could-go-off-and-kill-every-living-thing-in-sight-at-any-moment-so-fucking-tread-carefully, person.
It was just that her stomach was numb and her ass was gonna take a turn on the cold cement.