Chapter 5
CAGE
My house sat tucked back from the main road, a sprawling single-level place that struck the balance between comfortable and private.
It was a haven, not flashy but built solid—just like me.
The kind of home where I could shut the world out after a long day at the hospital or a tough night in the clubhouse.
The driveway curved into the shadow of a garage big enough for several bikes and my SUV, framed by palms that rustled in the evening breeze, providing a quiet calm.
I glanced at Hadley as I parked, noting the way she bit her lip, clearly uncertain, though she masked it well. She followed me inside, her steps cautious but steady. I flicked on the entry lights, the warm glow spilling over the dark hardwood floors, catching her eyes as she took in the space.
I led her straight to my bedroom, not hesitating for even a second.
Her eyes went wide when we stepped inside, lingering on the neatly made bed draped in a deep charcoal comforter.
It was simple but welcoming, something built for comfort and rest—though right now, my mind drifted to an entirely different use for it.
The image of her beneath me, her green eyes flashing with heat as I peeled off the layers of clothes between us, ignited a fierce surge of desire low in my body. Fuck.
My eyes tracked the faint crease between her brows, the wary line of her mouth, and how her pulse fluttered visibly at the base of her throat. She was so fucking beautiful, and I wanted to trace every curve of her with my mouth until I knew them by memory alone.
“Hold on,” I murmured, attempting to think of anything that would soften my throbbing cock. Moving to my dresser, I grabbed one of my T-shirts, worn soft from countless washes, and handed it to her. “Change into this, baby. You need rest.”
Hadley’s gaze flicked up to mine, searching and unsure. She opened her mouth like she might protest, but I softened my voice, letting it drop to a quiet rumble as I added, “You’ll feel better once you’re comfortable. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
Her cheeks pinked a little at that, and she was even more beautiful when she was soft and vulnerable, standing at the foot of my bed, gripping the worn cotton of my shirt in her hands. Before she could argue or question further, I stepped out, closing the door softly behind me.
My cock throbbed with frustration as the image of her stripping down and pulling my shirt over that soft, curvy body seared into my mind.
Fuck. She was in my bedroom. About to climb into my bed.
Wearing nothing but my T-shirt. My skin heated, and my dick strained painfully against my jeans.
I shoved out a breath, forcing my steps toward the kitchen.
I needed to get my damn head on straight, or I was going to march right back in there, peel that shirt back off, and claim her in every fucking way I wanted.
In the kitchen, I filled a glass of water and shook a couple of painkillers into my palm, my thoughts returning to the bedroom.
My body had a mind of its own, stirring restlessly at the memory of her skin under my fingers and the heat of her body pressed to mine when I’d assessed her injury.
I forced myself to exhale and steadied my nerves, reminding myself to get my shit under control before I walked back in there.
When I returned, she stood beside the bed, the hem of my T-shirt hanging just below her thighs, looking unsure and shy as hell.
The sight hit me like a kick in the gut—hard, sweet, and absolutely fucking perfect.
My dick twitched, and I silently cursed myself, wondering how I’d survive the night with her dressed in nothing but my shirt.
The image of peeling it off, revealing inch after tempting inch of her curves, tested every ounce of self-control I had left.
Her gaze lifted to mine, her bright eyes filled with questions and a faint edge of defiance. I held out the water and pills, my voice gentle but firm. “Take these.”
She accepted them, downing the pills with a sip of water. Her throat moved as she swallowed, drawing my gaze to the delicate line of her neck, and I clenched my jaw against the fierce need to trace that same path with my lips.
“Get into bed, baby,” I said gruffly, my voice thick with the lust I couldn’t fully hide.
It wasn’t a request.
Her eyes flashed, her spine straightening, but the rebellion faded as quickly as it came. She was tired, probably sore as hell, and knew she needed to rest. After a moment’s hesitation, she sank onto the mattress with a quiet sigh.
I moved closer, unable to stop myself from reaching out, guiding her head onto the pillow, and adjusting the blankets around her shoulders.
Her lashes fluttered softly, hiding those beautiful green eyes from me, but not before I saw the uncertainty there.
The trust that still seemed fragile and new.
It did something to my chest, making my breath catch and hold for just a heartbeat too long.
“Sleep,” I murmured, my voice softer than before.
I flipped off the bedside lamp, leaving only the dim hallway light filtering into the room. Then I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants from the dresser and ducked into the bathroom to change. When I came back out, she was already breathing deep and even.
I stood there for a moment, watching her and memorizing the shape of her curled against my sheets. Then I turned and headed down the hall to my office two doors away, leaving the bedroom door ajar. If she needed anything, I’d hear her.
I settled into the leather chair at my desk, raking a hand through my hair as I waited for the call I knew was coming. Jax’s name flashed across my phone a few minutes later, right on cue.
“Talk to me,” I answered quietly, leaning back in the chair.
“Did some digging,” Jax started, his voice steady but edged with tension.
“Hadley Rivers grew up under a microscope. Her father—Frederick Rivers—is a high-profile politician. Senator Rivers—big fucking name in Tallahassee. Projected stability, wealth, and perfect family values. The kind that keeps secrets buried deep.”
“Go on,” I growled, my jaw hardening with suspicion.
“Danielle, her mother, matches him. Perfect political wife, perfect family, everything controlled. Hadley’s entire life has likely been curated from birth—image management, public appearances, and no fuckups allowed.
Hadley was raised in the spotlight, taught to be the ideal daughter, seen but never heard, and to reflect the family brand.
Looks like she fit into that perfectly, too, at least from the outside.
” Jax’s voice sharpened. “But you and I both know how that kind of family operates behind closed doors.”
My teeth ground together, a surge of anger rippling under my skin as the pieces finally clicked into place.
The way Hadley hid discomfort behind practiced smiles and how she masked her fear and pain like second nature.
Of course she had. She’d been conditioned to put on a front for years, forced into the rigid mold her parents carved out for her.
I knew too fucking well how it felt to need absolute control just to breathe.
My jaw tightened as Jax continued. “But here’s the thing, those glossy political families always have cracks under the surface.
Hadley’s life might’ve looked perfect from outside, but I’m seeing enough whispers and rumors to know that behind closed doors, it was anything but.
I imagine she grew up being treated more like an accessory than a beloved daughter. ”
My hands clenched into fists, a low burn building in my stomach. I understood how appearances could hide the darkest truths, and it made me want to tear down anything that had ever made her feel trapped or helpless.
“Send the full dossier to me,” I told Jax. “And keep digging. I want everything.”
“Done,” he agreed easily. “Already on it.”
I ended the call, staring at the phone long after the screen went dark. It all made sense now—why Hadley clung to control, the mask she wore was second skin, and her defiance sparked like steel and fire whenever she felt cornered.
She was fighting her past, and I understood that battle better than anyone. I’d lived it and fought my own way out of darkness. And I’d be damned if I let anyone push Hadley back into that cage again.
She was mine now. Every secret. Every scar. Every breath she took belonged to me, and anyone who wanted her back would have to fight through hell itself.
And I wasn’t planning on letting them win.
I rubbed my jaw, glancing toward the open door to my office. The image of Hadley sleeping in my bed had stayed burned into my mind. Thinking about the soft curves of her body wrapped in my sheets was doing unspeakable things to my self-control.
I blew out a breath and thumbed through my contacts until I found Flint’s number and hit Call.
He picked up on the first ring. “Cage, been waiting for you to call.”
“Got a situation I need your eyes on.” I leaned back in my chair.
The house was quiet around me, the gentle hum of the air-conditioning a faint background noise.
“A woman got hit by debris at the track today. When I was checking the wound, I found a scar near her right temple—claims she got it as a toddler from hitting her head on a table, but it doesn’t add up. ”
Flint went quiet for a second, thoughtful. “Explain.”
I described what I’d observed in detail. “It looks more like a botched cosmetic job than a surgical repair. Like someone was trying to remove something rather than fix it.”
“Send me a photo,” Flint ordered. “Something clear.”
I flicked through my phone to the photo we’d taken at the hospital for her medical paperwork, zooming in to make sure the scar was clearly visible. It was the perfect angle, showing exactly what he needed. I hit Send, then listened to Flint mutter softly under his breath as he reviewed the image.
“Damn,” Flint grunted after a moment, the grimness in his voice confirming my suspicions.
“You’re right. That scar is definitely surgical.
No way it came from a childhood injury. They cut something out.
My money’s on a congenital nevus—a birthmark, maybe slightly raised, irregular edges, darker pigment.
Which accounts for that faint shadowing you see and the uneven surface.
They obviously weren’t careful about smoothing out the skin. ”
My blood ran cold, the protectiveness in my chest growing. “Can you tell who might have done it?”
“It’s definitely the kind of procedure I’d handle for the Hounds if we needed to make someone vanish,” Flint confirmed. “But Cage, we’d never do a hack job like this. Whoever worked on her was unskilled—someone you’d find working out of a back room with no license and paid under the table.”
“Fuck.” Illegal surgery wasn’t just risky; it could be deadly. “She’s from money. Political family, wealthy, high profile. Parents obsessed with their public image. Any chance they’d go under the radar to erase something they didn’t like?”
Flint exhaled, his tone cautious. “Possible. Wouldn’t be the first rich family to carve off something they found embarrassing or detrimental to their image. But brother, with their kind of money, they wouldn’t need to settle for some butcher with no skill.”
That’s exactly what had been bothering me all along. “Yeah, my gut says it’s something else.”
“What’s your instinct tell you?”
“That she’s in trouble. Maybe someone was hiding something about her. It’s bad enough to raise the hairs on my neck.” My voice dipped lower, anger simmering beneath the surface. “And the thought of someone hurting her makes me want to rip them apart.”
Flint chuckled softly in understanding. “You got it bad, Cage.”
I didn’t bother to deny it. “Do some digging. Ask around, see if anyone in your circles recognizes the handiwork. Maybe one of your colleagues has seen something like this before.”
“Will do,” Flint assured me. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear something.”
We hung up, and I set the phone down, leaning back in my chair and letting my head tip back for a moment while I blew out a long breath.
The fury coursing through my veins wasn’t cooling off.
Instead, it only intensified the burning, possessive instinct that had taken root the second I saw her blood on my fingers.
She was mine now, every beautiful, stubborn inch of her, and no one would touch her ever again.
Pushing myself up, I moved back down the hall quietly, stepping into the shadowed doorway of my bedroom.
Hadley was still asleep, but she’d shifted slightly, rolling onto her side and hugging my pillow.
Something fierce and tender surged through me at the sight of her tucked so perfectly in my bed, vulnerable in a way that tugged at me.
I moved closer, watching her even breathing and the way her hair spilled across my pillow, catching the dim light. My cock hardened instantly at the sight of her, hunger building in my gut.
Damn, she was fucking gorgeous. Her lips were parted slightly, relaxed in sleep, tempting me to kiss her awake. My shirt was still loose around her, exposing the smooth skin of her thighs, inviting me to run my hands up under the hem and claim every inch.
I forced myself to exhale slowly, wrestling down the urge to slide into bed beside her and pull her against me. This wasn’t about what I wanted—not yet. She needed rest. Safety. Still, I moved to the opposite side of the bed and lowered myself slowly onto the mattress, careful not to wake her.
At first, I kept some distance between us, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. But I could feel the warmth of her presence beside me, hear the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing. It had me instinctively wanting her closer, yearning for her touch even if it was accidental.
Eventually, Hadley made the decision for me.
She rolled toward me, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
Without thinking, my arm lifted, settling naturally around her.
She shifted closer, cuddling against me with a gentle trust that shattered every wall I’d ever built.
My hand splayed possessively across her back.
My heart hammered in my chest, emotion and heat mingling into something I couldn’t define but wasn’t about to fight. A sense of rightness filled me, fierce and consuming. This was where she belonged. With me. Protected, safe, and fucking cherished without conditions.
I tightened my hold, dropping a soft kiss to the top of her head, my lips lingering in the silk of her hair. My eyes closed, finally feeling a calmness I’d never expected. One thought echoed through my mind, possessive and undeniable.
Mine.