Chained (Caged Book 2) (12 page)

Chains shook as Anderson’s unique snarl filled my ears. “You sick fuck.”

“She was always quite something.” Terry’s voice was starting to sink into the marrow of my bones, my body trembling with fear, with hatred, with the overwhelming need to kill. “A much better child than you ever were. You never stopped fucking whining over this and that. Such a fucking coward. Just like your mother!”

“You’re going to burn in hell,” Anderson grunted. “And then, when I finally join you, I’m going to tear each piece of charred flesh from your rotten corpse and bury you in the dead and decaying horror you came from.”

“Mmm.” Terry laughed. “You still think you can keep your promise of killing me?”

This time it was Anderson who laughed. “Oh, I’m definitely going to break my promise.”

Terry hesitated, the hitch in his breath telling me he was as confused with Anderson’s defeat as much as I was.

“So, you finally accept that you’re not going to kill me?”

“Oh, I accepted it a long time ago. It won’t be my job to take your last breath…”

There was a pregnant silence. I tilted my head, wondering if my hearing had gone the same way as my sight. Then so many sounds. So many things for my frayed senses to concentrate on at once.

The creak of the door.

A shuffle.

Heavy panting.

Chains rattling.

None of it made any sense in my head.

Until my body fell into strong arms when the cuffs around my wrists snapped open. And Anderson finished his sentence in two little words….

“Kloe will.”

H
ER SCREAMS HURT MY EARS
and my soul. She was frantic, her hands slapping at anything that came within her personal space.

Her mind was broken. It had finally given in to the crazy that haunted her every damn day.

“Kloe, please,” Dr Mike Varney coaxed gently as he attempted to catch her flaying hands. “You’re safe now.”

Every part of her shook as she lashed out.

Mike glanced at me questioningly and I nodded. “Do it.”

Taking the already prepared syringe, Caroline, one of his nurses, did her best to hold Kloe down as he quickly but efficiently slid the needle into Kloe’s vein.

Within seconds her body sagged and her screams silenced. Her mind began its rest and allowed her body chance to heal.

Mike blew out a breath. “She really needs to be in hospital, Anderson.”

“No. She stays here. You’re more than capable of caring for her.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “Other than tending to her physical wounds, I’m afraid there’s not much I can do for her mental state. She needs professional psychiatric help.”

My gaze moved to Kloe as she finally slept. “She’s strong.”

He shrugged, looking with concern over his patient before turning back to me. “Are you in any pain? Caroline can give you some pain relief.”

I shook my head. A knife wound to my gut was nothing compared to what Kloe was going through, and it seemed like a small piece of justice that I took a fraction of pain.

I should have known the cunt would do this. I thought he would bide his time, that he would wait just as I was. I had been so wrong about his feelings towards Kloe.

None of it made sense.

Mike and I walked out of the room, leaving Caroline to wash Kloe.

“I’ll be back in the morning to check on her. But, please, you must rest yourself. Your wound will get infected if you don’t.”

I nodded. I had no intentions of heeding to his request. But he didn’t need to know that.

Rob smiled at me as I took a place next to him on the sofa. It was a troubled smile, one full of worry.

And I knew why.

“How’s she doing?”

Biting into my bottom lip, I shook my head. “I… not good.”

“Anderson…”

“I have no idea what the bastard did to her, Rob,” I stated, cutting him off. “But from what Mike tells me, it’s going to take a damn fucking miracle for her to come through this.”

He was silent, watching the flickering flames in the fire. His sigh was loud as he drained the rest of his whisky.

“You shouldn’t be drinking that while taking antibiotics!”

I blinked, jerking when his glass sailed across the room and shattered on the wall. “Don’t fucking ignore this, Anderson.” He was furious, his eyes wild on me.

I understood him. I did. But it was too late. “I did what was necessary, Rob. I couldn’t get her out of there on my own.”

He scoffed bitterly. “So you went against everything!”

Now it was my turn to be angry. I shot up and bent into his face, my fists scrunching into the sofa cushion either side of him. “And what was the alternative? It’s my fault this happened to Kloe. You think I should have just left her there? Left him to do whatever sick fucking things he wanted to her?”

“But…”

“There’s no buts, Rob. It’s done.”

He shook his head, fighting with his rage and the sorrow that consumed him. “You might as well have traded yourself for her because this is no fucking better!”

“You really think he’d have stuck to his side of the bargain?” I asked.

“Of course he wouldn’t, but it would have given us more time to sort this shit. Maybe…”

“Maybe doesn’t even come into it, especially with Kloe’s life at risk. I did what I needed to do. It’s done. We speak no more of it!”

He bit into his lip and pushed himself off the sofa, his body jerking in pain at the effort it took.

I knew he was angrier because he couldn’t be the one to help me get Kloe out. But he wouldn’t have stood a chance against Terry in that state. I couldn’t risk him as well as Kloe. And I knew Robbie wouldn’t ever forgive me for that. But one day, he’d understand.

“I’m going to turn in.”

I nodded. “Night.”

He didn’t answer me. I watched him walk away. My stomach ached for my best friend. Apart from his sister, Rob had no one but me. But I hoped he and Kloe, when I had gone, could be there for each other. They would need each other. I didn’t mean in a sexual way, but as friends. Robbie was loyal and protective, and I wouldn’t trust Kloe’s life with anyone but him.

My body shivered when I thought about what my basement held. My instinct was to go down those stairs and drive a fucking knife straight through Terry’s heart.

Yet, I wouldn’t.

It would be Kloe’s job.

And I felt no greater pleasure than knowing I had to keep Terry alive while he waited for Kloe’s redemption. At least I would get some fun before…

“Mr Cain?” Caroline’s voice broke me out of my daydream.

I turned to look at her. “Yes?”

“Miss Grant is comfortable. I’ve washed her and she looks much more…”

I nodded, thanking her with a small smile. “Thank you. I’ve made up the guest bedroom for you.”

“Then I’ll retire for the night, if that’s okay? Miss Grant should sleep for the night but please come and fetch me if the sedation wears off.”

Pushing off the sofa, I gave Caroline a nod and made my way back up to my bedroom where Kloe rested.

She looked so small and pale against the darkness of the black sheets. She lay on her back and now her face was clean, the bruises that painted her skin made me catch a breath. Her beautiful face was dark, her eyes rimmed with black circles. Her cheekbones looked harsh, the weight she had lost making them protrude angrily against the other soft contours of her face. Her once long, luscious waves were gone, a short crop of matted curls resting around her face.

Settling myself on the mattress beside her, I gently lay my weary body down and carefully reached out to run my thumb over her pale and cracked lips. They were slightly oily and I assumed Caroline had applied some lip balm to soothe the dryness.

Delicately I moved my hand down her neck and over the top of her chest that showed above the sheet that had been placed over her.

One long, angry gash disappeared under the cotton and I slowly moved it down.

Heat stung my eyes as I took in the numerous incisions that Mike and Caroline had sutured. There were so many that her body looked like someone had played noughts and crosses many times over her skin with a blade instead of a pencil.

And then my hand rested on the dip of her belly. Once, her stomach had held a faint roundness to it, but now it hollowed inwards.

“Hey, little guy,” I whispered. “I’m praying you’re still in there. I’m praying you’re as strong as your Mamma.”

It was too soon for the doctor to tell whether Kloe was still pregnant. He’d tested her urine and it was still showing that she was pregnant, but he said that it could take a while for the pregnancy hormones to subside. He was bringing in a vaginal scanner tomorrow. Yet I’d seen the blood.

Exhaustion hit me suddenly and my eyes grew heavy.

Just as I closed them, my phone vibrated against my leg, notifying me of a text.

Ivan Moritz: Fight set for 4 weeks to give you time with your woman.

Me: Ok. I’ll make sure everything is set.

I sighed, flinging my phone onto the side. Four weeks. That was it.

Four weeks until I had to throw a fight and give Ivan Moritz his payment for getting Kloe to safety. My life.

M
IKE ARRIVED EARLY THE NEXT
day. He was smiling, but I could see the worry in his eyes, the apprehension at how I would react if things didn’t go how I wanted them to go.

I’d known Mike a good few years. He was a friend of Marty who owned the fight ring, and he knew how to be discrete. He was the guy we all saw after a fight when we needed patching up. He charged a fucking whack, but paying for silence cost money.

“How was the patient overnight?” he asked as soon as he stepped foot in the door and proceeded to take himself up the stairs.

“Quiet. Caroline set up a drip and Kloe slept most of the night. She was feverish though, but I’m not sure if that was because she woke up screaming. A nightmare maybe.”

He nodded but didn’t offer me anything more.

Kloe lay, as yesterday, on her back, the arrangement of the sheet flat against her thin frame. Her hipbones stuck out and I had to look away. It did make me wonder what state I would have found her in if Terry had had her for longer than a week. I couldn’t believe the difference in her after just seven days, so longer would have been so much more torturous.

Doing his initial checks, Mike mumbled, “She does have a temperature. I’ll start her on some antibiotics just in case, and hopefully paracetamol will help.”

Every minute watching her like this broke my heart. I wanted to take away her pain, from both her wounds and her soul. I should have sought Terry out earlier. I should have seen to it before he even had a chance to realise I was back. He’d tormented Kloe well before I had found her again, killing her friend and her dog. He’d had no intentions of killing her, he just wanted to taunt her, play his sick fucking games with her.

Kloe had surprised me, though, with everything she had found out. A part of me had just wanted to take her into the lion’s den blind, walk her straight through Terry’s front door and take great delight in the sight of their joint shock. Except she’d discovered who Richard really was – Robert, Terry’s youngest son - and then found the connection between my father and her step-father. And exactly who I was.