Chapter 17
Cage
I’m a complete fool. Last night, I crossed a dangerous line.
I’ve never engaged in sexual conduct with a colleague before.
It was never in the realm of possibilities.
I suppose there’s a first time for everything.
I could lie and say it was a one-time thing.
I could brush it off as an impulsive act resulting from pent up trauma and sexual frustration.
I could attribute my recklessness to my childhood upbringing, to the lack of maternal and paternal influences. I could. But I won’t.
It wouldn't be honest. The truth is, Theodore ignites a part of me that’s been dormant for years, perhaps even my whole life.
He excites me. He stirs something in my goddamn soul that makes it impossible to resist, to say no, to uphold my values and virtues.
The moment he stepped into my classroom, I knew.
I knew he would ruin me. And that’s been his promise all along.
Theo has his own set of boundaries. I don’t know exactly what they are, but they’re there, controlling his actions. But I don’t believe those boundaries are made of iron or platinum or permanent ink. They’re pliable, amenable, and temporary. Like mine.
We’ve been toeing the same line, hoping the other person falls off first. Little did we know, we’d both fall. I might have fallen first, but the way he looked at me last night, the raw, animalistic lust and stone-cold ownership—I know he’ll fall harder.
It’s only a matter of when.
He can’t hide it anymore. He can’t conceal his intentions.
His body language no longer abides by the rules set forth by his mind.
In public, we’re meant to be colleagues.
But as we walk through the dirty, run-down halls of Ricker’s Island, he’s not my colleague, he’s a predator, a lion, and his only job is to protect me.
Theo’s alerted gaze skims each decrepit cell, each dark corner, each stationed guard as we make our way toward a secure visiting room.
He walks behind me, so close that I can feel the heat radiating off his stiff frame.
He’s like a pair of detached angel wings, a shield against the wicked and evil that call this prison their home.
I don’t belong here. I stand out. The prisoners are drawn to me, partly because I’m a woman, but mostly, it’s because I represent freedom—the one thing these men all so desperately crave. I feel their stares. It makes my skin crawl.
But Theo… Theo thrives in this environment. He doesn’t seem out of place. The walls accept him, they welcome him, and the prisoners…the prisoners respect him.
It doesn’t make sense.
He’s a federal agent. They should be yelling and spitting and cursing at him. But they’re silent. They don’t say a word as we pass cells housing some of New York’s most dangerous criminals. All they do is watch him. Watch us.
A shiver climbs up my spine like a ghost of a spider. It’s not right. I take a sharp breath.
This isn’t right.
“You’re safe, Safia,” Theo whispers from behind me. He places a reassuring hand on the small of my back, and the connection makes me gasp. A mistake. The airy, feminine sound echoes through the halls. The sound wakes up the prison. “You’re—”
I freeze, covering my ears as the cells come to life—men screaming, whistling, bars rattling, and the ground shaking as they stomp and jump.
My heart hammers from the intensity of the noise.
It’s deafening, sickening. Their words aren’t clear, they’re mumbled and overlapping, but I know what they’re saying.
The filth of their intentions sticks to my skin, and I want to tear my clothes off and scrub away the vile obscenities.
“Go! Now!” Theo snakes an arm around my waist as I lower my head, gaze glued to the floor.
The guard guiding us toward the visiting room appears unfazed by the commotion, but given how his footsteps quicken, he’s just as uncomfortable as I am.
“This way,” the guard says, using his badge to release an electronically locked door.
He holds it open for us as we slip past him and step into the administrative wing of the prison.
The guard releases a loud breath of relief as he closes the door.
“Sorry about that.” He gives me a once-over, his gaze landing on my knee-length pencil dress. “Next time wear pants maybe.”
I glower at him. Of course. It’s my fault.
Typical.
“I’ll make sure to do that.”
Theo takes a step forward, towering over the guard. “Watch your mouth, Officer,” he hisses. “All it would take is one phone call and your status on this island would drop from senior CO to custodial staff.” He cocks his head. “I think you owe Dr. Hadid a sincere apology.”
The guard swallows, sheepishly glancing over at me. “Sorry, ma’am. That was, uh…inappropriate. I misspoke.”
I smile at the guard. Not because he apologized, but because Theo forced him, threatened him.
I shouldn’t condone Theo’s volatile reactions, his need to instantly right what he deems wrong. But the power he holds, in his words, in the way he carries himself, it leaves me flushed, turned on, and starving.
I’d let him fuck me right here, right now, against the barred windows. I’d let the prisoners in the yard watch as he pummels me, stretches me open and fills me with all his vigor, his dominance, his goddamn authority.
“Take us to Wei Zhao,” I say, ignoring the treacherous thoughts.
“He’s over here,” the guard says, leading us down the hallway.
Theo sidles up beside me, and I tense from the proximity. He leans over and whispers, “Your cheeks are so rosy, little lamb. I wonder what you’re thinking.”
I clear my throat and straighten out my shoulders as my lower belly twists with want. “Focus, Agent Kane. Let’s not get sidetracked.”
A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “I never get sidetracked, Safia.” He peers down at me, eyes hooded and glistening. “My focus is always on my target.”
And I pray he hits the bullseye real soon.
I don’t respond to Theo as the guard stops at the double-paned door. He swipes his security pass, and the door clicks open.
“He’s alone,” the guard says. “Refused a lawyer.” He checks his watch. “You got ten minutes with him then I need to take him back to solitary.”
Solitary? I wonder what he did to earn a spot in the hole.
Theo gives the guard a curt nod before stepping inside the stark, gray room. I imagine these walls are a vacation for the former head of the triad. While a normal person might go insane in this room, at least it’s bright and there’s a window.
I follow Theo as he approaches a single eight-foot-long table bolted to the concrete floor.
Wei Zhao sits on one side, his ankles and wrists chained to the metal bars on the table.
He stares out the two-by-six window at the clouds threatening a storm.
It’s a sliver of freedom. So close, but so out of reach.
Theo and I sit down in the two empty chairs on the opposite side of Wei Zhao.
“I forgot what the sky looked like,” Zhao hums, leaning back into the hard, metal chair. “I’m supposed to get an hour outside a day but…”
“You’re not here to daydream,” Theo says, voice firm and cold. “Do you have what we need?”
A greasy grin clips Zhao’s lips as he slowly swivels his head toward us.
“Forgive me for being nostalgic, Agent Kane. I’ve been living in a box for weeks.
” His seedy gaze flicks toward me. “But now I have something far more beautiful to stare at than the sky.” He licks his lips, smiling at me. “You have my undivided attention.”
Theo stiffens beside me, his hand clenched into a fist, but his expression remains neutral, passive. “The list, Zhao. Do you have it? Or are you wasting my time?”
He sucks in a long, animated breath. “We have many lists.” Zhao cracks his neck. “But first, why don’t you introduce me to your friend?” He smirks at me. “No offense but you don’t look like a fed.”
My voice comes out stronger than I feel. “I’m a psychologist.”
Zhao perks a brow, and I can sense that Theo doesn’t like that I entertained Zhao’s request.
“A shrink, huh? Well,” he looks around, “I’m open to a one-on-one session if you are.”
“That’s enough,” Theo states, jaw set. “Do you have a list of patrons from Bocco’s or not?”
Zhao sighs. “God, you federal agents are no fun.” He glances at me, grinning. “He always this uptight?”
Theo’s chair scrapes against the concrete floor as he stands up. “We’re leaving.”
Zhao glares up at Theo. “Relax, Agent Kane. I have what you need.”
Theo crosses his arms, refusing to sit back down. I contemplate whether or not I should also stand but elect to remain seated. Zhao needs to think he has some control over the situation. He doesn’t strike me as the type of man to respond well to authority.
“Go on,” Theo says.
“I had a few of my people look into your request,” Zhao says, disdain in his voice. “The ones who aren’t in here with me, that is.” He sneers at Theo. “I’m breaking a cardinal rule talking to you. I hope you understand the risk I’m taking.”
“If your cooperation proves helpful, the DOJ has agreed to move you to a medium security prison,” Theo says. “Can’t guarantee word won’t spread, but it won’t be from our side.”
Zhao grinds his teeth. “My people aren’t rats, Agent.”
Theo shrugs. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
Zhao snorts. “Right.” He takes a small breath, pursing his lips as his gaze darts between me and Theo. “What’s this about anyway? Bocco’s burned down years ago.”
“That’s classified,” Theo says. “You got the list or not?”
Zhao leans back in his chair and uses the heels of his shoes to slide back half a foot. He smirks up at me and sucks on his teeth as he nods down to the pocket of his jumpsuit.
“I’d get it myself but—” He holds both chained wrists in the air and rattles the constraints. “Why don’t you come and help me out, huh?”
“The hell she will,” Theo grunts, rounding the table. He glares down at Zhao. “Stand up.”
Zhao’s expression tightens. “If you think you’re putting your fucking hands anywhere near me, I’ll rip your fucking throat out.” He snaps his head at me. “You. I want you to do it. Think of it as a thank you for my cooperation.”
I blink, frazzled. “I—”
Theo sighs. “You just had to be difficult, didn’t you?”
As Zhao turns his neck to look up, Theo palms the back of Zhao’s skull and bashes his head against the metal table.
I gasp, jerking backward as I cover my mouth.
Jesus Christ.
Blood streams from a gash on Zhao’s forehead as Theo squats down and fishes a piece of paper from Zhao’s pocket.
Theo stands up and scowls at Zhao. “Was that so hard?”
“You fucking…” Zhao winces, struggling to sit upright as blood pools on the table. “Fuck! What the fuck, man?!”
“Let’s go.” Theo latches onto my forearm and yanks me out of the chair.
He drags me to the door, knocking two times.
The guard opens the door, his expression flat as he sees Zhao.
“Take him to the infirmary. Give him stitches.” Theo pauses, looking over his shoulder.
A dangerous ghost of a smile spreads on his face.
“No lidocaine. He’s a big boy. He doesn’t need it. ”
“Fuck you!” Zhao yells at us. “Good luck figuring that list out, motherfucker!”
Theo ignores Zhao and the guard leads us out of the heart of the prison, our footsteps echoing in the cold, sterile hallways. Theo’s grip on my arm is firm, unyielding. I don’t try to pull away, not yet.
We finally reach the lobby, and the guard nods curtly at us before retreating back into the depths of the prison.
The moment we step outside into the parking lot, I wrench my arm out of Theo’s grasp.
"What the hell was that?" I demand. “You hurt him! That was completely unnecessary.”
Theo scoffs, a bitter sound that makes my stomach twist. "He deserved it."
I shake my head, taking a step back from him, trying to put some distance between us. "Just because he’s a prisoner doesn’t mean he’s not a human being."
Theo’s eyes darken as he stalks toward me, closing the distance I’d just created.
"He wanted you to touch him, Safia. He wanted to feel you.
" His voice is low, dangerous, as he pins me against the SUV.
His right hand cages me in, his body pressing close.
"No one gets to touch you, little lamb. No one. "
My breath hitches at his words. "Violence isn’t the answer, Theodore," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. "You made him bleed."
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze flitting down to my lips.
"You should be glad that I controlled myself, Safia.
" He brushes my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, the touch sending a stream of fire through me.
"What I really wanted to do," he pauses, his icy, hypnotic eyes locking onto mine, "was kill him. "
My heart races, my brain screaming to push him away, to tell him this is wrong, but my body betrays me. The intensity in his gaze, the possessiveness in his voice—it stirs something deep inside me, something primal and undeniable.
Before I can second-guess myself, I close the gap between us, my lips crashing against his—urgent, desperate, like we’re both trying to steal a rare antiquity without getting caught.
Theo’s hand tightens around my waist, pulling me closer.
His fingers rake through my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss.
I gasp against his lips, gripping his shirt as I press myself against him.
He claims me and I let him. I give him access, permission.
I’ve sanctioned my own destruction, my own downfall.
But like I said, I won’t be the only one falling. We’ll fall and crash and perish, together.
He breaks the kiss as the sky thunders overhead and rain crashes down on us. His forehead rests against mine as we both catch our breath.
He smiles against my lips and whispers, “You’re ready, little lamb. I’m going to make you mine.”