Little Bird (Caged #1) (16 page)

"I know what you were to him," he says pushing himself off of the wall. "You have to run." Taking the chair next to me, he looks me in the eyes. "I got the fucking kill order that night. It's not a pretty one, and I've never seen him this.... this emotional about any of his girls."

"I'm not just one of his girls!" I scream with offense, but holding that little tidbit of information over his head is the last thing I should be doing. Me being more than just one of Jasper's fucks will not impress this man. "And soon I will be sitting on his fucking throne with his head as a footstool." I get to my feet and look at him like he's pathetic. "You run, Lucas. I'm not afraid of Jasper or you. You got the order. Try and do your job."

He stands glaring at me then a chuckle starts to emerge from his lips. Soon he's in full-blown laughter before he cuts it off immediately and storms toward me. His voice low, his eyes dark, and his fists clenched.

"I would never kill you, Megan. Why the hell do you think I've been holed up here the past few days?! I can't, for the life of me, figure a way out of this! I can't run, because he'll still have you killed... I can't fucking kill you because... Fuck, I just." He screams and kicks over the chair. "I can't fucking kill the woman I love!"

A look of disgust twists the angry features that were plastered to my face. What the fuck did he just admit to?

"Love?" I roar before barking out condescending laughter. "You're a weak man." I'm shaking so hard I can feel it in my chest. "Pathetic. You've followed my cookie crumb." I throw back my head and laugh so he doesn't see the tears. I will not admit to feeling even an ounce of respect for the man. "And now you're eating out of my hand and that's why you won't do your job. If Jasper really knew who you were, he wouldn’t have hired you. He only employs clones. You're weak—"

He grabs my arm and jerks me toward him. "So you're a clone of him, Megan?" he screams at me. "You're delusional if you're even trying to deny whatever this is that's between us!" He shakes me before he continues his rant. "I'm not a fucking clone, Megs. I was raised with him. I watched my parents get murdered with him right next to me. I wasn't cloned, Megan. I am who I am because he fucking took me in and gave me a life that wasn't the system. Now I'm faced with either killing the woman I've fallen so fucking hard for or the man I consider my brother."

My eyes go wide. I hadn't realized they were that close.

"You don't love me, Lucas. You've fallen in love with your first taste of freedom. Have you ever been away from the life you're used to? Have you ever gotten close to another human for reasons other than killing them or a quick fuck?" I pull out of his grasp on my arm. "You don't love me, Lucas."

"Goddammit!" he growls, tightly grabbing my arm and yanking me back toward him. "I fucking love YOU!" he screams before shoving his lips to mine and I fire before thinking. 

With a grunting scream he shoves away from me and yells, "Fuck!"

I don't know why I fired. His stupid fucking words and the stupid fucking feelings that zapped through me from that kiss scared me! It's instinct to kill what tries to hurt me and he may not physically hurt me but telling me words like that and fucking meaning it! Fuck him!

Not until I see the blood seep through his fingers holding his thigh do I realize the monumental mistake.

"Sit down!" I blurt and shove the chair behind him. "Fuck, Lucas, you stupid fuck!" I drop to my knees and quickly rip open the hole in his jeans caused from the bullet and see the wound pumping blood.

I've shot plenty of people, I know what happens, and maybe some part of me wanted to hurt him before he could me, but now, now I feel like a monster.

"You're going to be okay." I softly touch his face, leaving a bloody handprint before I dart to the kitchen.

"I WAS JUST SHOT! A fucking!.. Motherfucking cunt muffin just shot me! For loving her!" he yells across the house. "God fucking... Jesus Christ... Fuck!" 

I wince at his words then bite my lip to keep from laughing. I think I'm more amused that I shot him. I start going through cupboards and drawers and find what I'm looking for. I dart back into the dining room and he scowls at me, then looking at my hands, he pulls his leg away.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Shut up, you dumb cunt muffin," I snap at him, shoving his leg making him groan and grit his teeth.

I pour the turmeric on the pumping wound and he lets out a painful growling noise but keeps it quiet.

I look into his face. "I... uh. Sorry, but I need you to wait here. I have to run home to get something. The Turmeric will only slow the bleeding."

"Jesus, just get it from my trunk. Here," he winces as he digs the keys out of his pocket and hits the buttons on the fob. "The black bag in the trunk. It's got everything you'll need." 

I look at the wound once more and wince. First time I've ever felt guilty for shooting someone, but when he starts to growl because I haven't moved, I dart out the door, going as fast as I can so no one notices my bloody hands and arms. Grabbing the black bag, I rush into the house, closing the door behind me and unzip it.

"Lucas, I have to dig the bullet out. Is there something I can use to dig the bullet out with?"

"There's tweezers, I think. Fuck, other sharp... things. Jesus." He hisses. "Just give me the goddamned bag before you hurt me anymore. I've done this enough, I can do it." 

I raise my hands and take a few steps back, ready to be entertained while he tries to tend to his leg before he bleeds out. I could just help and this would go faster and he possibly wouldn't die... but no, Mr. Big Shot has to do it all. I was only helping because I shot him.

I watch him for a couple minutes and he's getting slower and slower, sweat pouring from his forehead. When his head seems to nod like he's about to pass out, the feeling of fear fills me and the sickening feeling has me rushing him and forcing him to let me take over.

"You've lost too much blood," I tell him, digging the bullet out with tongs and a magnet. "And I'm not going to fucking let you die."

I look up at him and he smirks in his still groggy state. 

"It's because you love me, isn't it?" he mumbles and I shove the gauze in a little harder than necessary, making him grunt and release it in a chuckle like he's trying not to kill me.

"Sorry." I take a second to give him a cocky smirk that's usually on his cocky face.

"My leg!" he snaps at me and I quickly get back to his leg.

I still can't believe she fucking shot me. And to top it off, the minute she shoved painkillers down my throat and the bleeding had stopped, she was out the door and gone. Gone! Now I'm hobbling around an empty house worried she's gone for good and I can't go out and find her like this. Not until the throbbing stops at least. 

My phone rings in the kitchen and I groan from the couch. 

So. Far. Away. 

Getting up, taking my steps slowly and carefully, I hear the ringing stop just to pick up and start again. By the time I make it to my phone, he's called twice already.

"What the fuck are you doing over there?" Jasper sneers over the line. "I found a replacement. It's happening tonight." 

I sigh and curse. "I'm in no position to filet someone tonight, Jasper." 

The line goes silent for several long minutes. 

"She needs to go, Luke." His voice is so calm it has the hairs on my arms standing up. "If you can't do the fucking job, I can definitely finish her myself. She'll look fantastic begging for me, covered in her blood on my white sheets." 

Oh, bad fucking wordage, Jasper. Terrible.

"This is my job, Jasper. You'll let me see it through to the end. As soon as this motherfucking gunshot wound heals, I'll be right on it." 

"What?" he chuckles. "Who the fuck did you let get to you?!" 

"It's your fucking fault, Jasper! They came after me for what you did! You're lucky you're still standing, man! You got me shot!" I'm breathing hard, and only partially because the hole in my leg is throbbing and probably pulsing blood at the moment. Even through the stitches. 

"My fault?! You let yourself get shot, Ace! You've fucked up this whole plan!" Something in the background smashes and I hear him curse. "I can't fucking have Frank do it, he isn't near as practiced with a knife as you are. Plus, she fucked all of us, man. You've wasted your time on her too. You need to be able to watch her skin fall from that delicate little body."  

I growl at the visuals playing in my head. "I'll be fine, just give me a few days. I just need to be able to move decently. I can do it by the weekend." 

"You better not be fucking this over, Ace." 

"Boy Scouts honor," I cockily retort. 

"You were never a fucking Boy Scout!" he scoffs, laughing.

"I'm taking some meds, Jasper. I'll call you in a day or two." I hang up before he can get more words in about how I'm screwing this whole job over. 

I think I know what I'm doing.

It takes me awhile, but after I've showered and growled at my running shoes mocking me, I unlock the door in case Megan needs to come in. Laying on the couch, I feel I've effectively turned into a couch potato for the first time in my life. 

I hate it. 

After three re-runs of Friends, I hear her knock on the door and yell for her to come in. I'm not moving from this couch. Those painkillers have kicked in and I'm certain I'd fall over if I tried walking right now. What the hell did she give me? 

"Hey," I mumble as I watch her and Bronson enter the room. He looks at Megan then over at me then down to my leg. "You can come over, buddy, you're not gonna hurt me." I fucking hope he doesn't think that means he can jump all over me though.

Those pills kicked in, but I'm sure a knee to the thigh right now would make me vomit.

"Wait, wait." Megan grabs him and looks at his hands in disgust. "He has peanut butter on his hands," she mumbles before swiping them over her own shirt. "It's all he'll eat. Peanut butter sandwiches or a hotdog."

"There's nothing wrong with a good ole PBJ, buddy," I say to him then look up at Megan.

I should be pissed at her. I should hate her for putting a bullet in my leg. But I don't. I should be pissed that I've let myself fall for her just so she could shoot me, but I'm not capable of finding that right now.

"What are you two up to tonight?" 

"Um." She rocks to her toes, looking a little nervous as she shoves her hands into her jean pockets then shrugs. "Nothing. Came to see how you're doing." Her eyes stay on Bronson while he carefully climbs onto the couch next to me.

"Just getting ready to head out for a run. Gotta practice for that marathon this weekend." I grin and watch her face as she purposefully avoids eye contact with me. 

"Mm, yeah. Marathon." She seems like she's in a different place.

"I think I'm going to grab a pet goat on the way home from my run. I heard there's a farm at the end of the neighborhood giving them away."

She's not even fucking paying attention to me.

"Giveaways are always good." She rocks again, eyes fixed on Bronson while he stares at the TV.

"Mind telling me what's wrong with you?" I sit up a little straighter and feel the burn in my leg from the sudden movement. Fuck that noise. 

"Calm down," she chides me, putting her hands out as if she's calming me down. "Lay down, you don't need to get up. Do you need something? Are you hungry? I'm a master peanut butter sandwich maker nowadays. Are you thirsty?" She's done a complete one eighty since they walked in the door.

What the hell is going on in that beautiful head of hers?

"Uh, no. I'm good. Thanks," I say watching her. "Just sit, you're making me nervous." 

"I'm the last person that should make you nervous." She sits on the couch by my hip and I furrow my brows. I'm glad she wants to be close, but I've got Bronson on one side and me laid up in the middle; what the hell is she doing? "Let me see your leg." Her hands go to the waist of my shorts but stop and she glances toward Bronson, then she goes for the bottom. "Up? Down? How can I get to it? Let me see it, Luke. Jesus Christ. I fucking shot you." She drops her face to her hand and inhales a deep breath at the same time Bronson leans over me and puts his hand to her back, softly rubbing.

"You okay, Birdie?"

"Hey, Bronson, why don't you go see if I have any juices left in the refrigerator. I think there's snacks in the pantry but you have to search for them." At the mention of food he takes off into the kitchen. I reach over and pull her off the arm of the couch, a stupid fucking place to sit anyway, and bring her against me. "Aren't I the one that should be crying, Megs? What's going on with you?" 

"I'm not crying." She swipes under her eyes. "Jasper's going to fucking kill you, Luke, and it's my fucking fault. You can't hide being shot from him. What the hell are you going to tell him? I can handle all of this. We'll say I threatened you. Do you have family? Maybe we can say I threatened your family. I'm not letting you get killed because I shot you because you said... Whatever. This is my fault." She's a panicked mess and I'd be lying if I didn't say it's nice to see. She actually has feelings in there somewhere.

I grin and chuckle, making her look into my eyes. Finally. "Aw, Megs, you do love me!" I can't help it, and I'm certain if she had a gun she'd shoot me again for it.

As it is though, she grabs my other thigh and squeezes, her teeth grit behind those soft lips, I can see the tensity in her jaw. I'm heeding her warning but can't help from laughing and shoving her hand away. 

She gets up with a groan. "This is serious, Lucas. I'm sorry for shooting you. You really need to learn how to keep your feelings closed off when we're around each other. It was a fuuuu..." She stops as Bronson walks into the room. Multiple snacks in each hand. "Oh my god." She huffs shaking her head. "I made him filet mignon tonight. He ate a peanut butter sandwich. I made him homemade mac and cheese. He ate more peanut butter. I tried to make him at least a ham sandwich, wasn't having it. Get to Luke's, and what do you want? Junk! All junk!" The woman's clearly stressed and it makes me grin because I know why. She wouldn't be acting like this if she didn't actually have feelings for me, despite what she was about to say before Bronson entered the room.

"How about you let me worry about what happens because of this," I say nodding toward my leg. "He's aware of it already, Megs. B.K.'s men, they came after me for what I did to him. An eye for an eye." I wink at her and smirk. "It's fine. Jasper is fine. If anything, it bought us more time to get you out—" I stop and look at Bronson. He's watching TV but I know he's listening to every word that comes out of my mouth. "Anyway. Kids love junk food! Filet mignon for a four year old, Megs? Not until he's older will he appreciate a nice steak. Don't waste your money." 

Her eyes narrow. "It's what I eat. I enjoy cooking myself a nice meal nightly. I've already stocked up on sixteen jars of peanut butter. But... can't that like kill him or something? He needs meat! Vegetables! Potatoes! Are you hungry?"

I chuckle, enjoying watching her learn how to deal with emotions that she's probably never had any experience with before. She's not alone in that battle. 

"I just want you to shut the hell up and to hang out right here on the couch. I think Wheel of Fortune is coming on. Can we be old tonight and enjoy yelling at the TV like the neighbors do?" I swear to god, I feel like some of them think the louder they yell the puzzle answer at the TV, the better chance Pat has of hearing them. 

Fucking olds. 

"Yeah." She chuckles sitting next to Bronson so he's in the middle. "I guess it's educational. I think he should be in school. Shit." She looks away. "I never thought about the kid being in school. I can home school. Can I home school?" She looks at me and my eyebrows raise realizing she has no intent of getting rid of this kid.

"Megan..." I don't know what to say with him sitting in between us, hearing every word that's coming out of our mouths. "I have to pee." I make a move to stand up and she's up faster than me, helping get me off the couch. After hobbling to the bathroom, I shut the door behind us and pin her with my stare. "You can't fucking think you're going to keep that child out there. He's a danger to..." Fuck! "It's not safe keeping him here!"

She sighs and looks away from my reprimanding glare. "What am I supposed to do, Luke? I thought there'd be extended family. Grandparents I could find or something. There literally is no one. She had a mom that died and then that sister that can't raise the hundred kids she already has. There are no friends that are any cleaner than Regina was. We're... I'm all the kid has and I refuse to turn him over to the state. We've talked about this."

I sigh. She's right, but she can't keep him.

"Megs, this... Fuck, this is so stupid though. The second Jasper gets wind of you having him... Fuck, we're both ... all three of us are dead and there's nothing we can do about it. You want him safe, he needs to be far away from—" That's when it hits me like a ton of bricks. They both need to leave. They need to go far away, change names, something... and I can't go with them. "Megan. You two need to leave. Tonight. It's the only way that I can keep you both safe." This is the only way around it, and it fixes so much. Yes, I love her. But I need her out of my goddamned life. 

She barks out a laugh so hard she's bent over, holding herself up by the sink. "Lucas," she says as her laughter dies down and when she looks into my serious face, her smile slowly falls. "Luke." Her hand goes to my face and her fingers scrub over my stubble softly. "It's not your job to keep us safe. It was your job to kill us. Remember?" The look on her face starts to shift to usual evil Megan but it doesn't last and she's frowning. "You don't have to worry about me. We'll be okay."

Her hand is still on my cheek and I feel so connected with her right now. I rest my hand on hers, so many words I want to tell her but none of them matter in this moment. I lean in, bracing myself on the wall and softly press my lips to hers. Fuck, I've missed her lips. It hasn't even been that long, but every time she leaves me, I think it's the last time I'm going to see her, so to be feeling them again is pure ecstasy. She returns the kiss softly, moaning when I deepen it. I want nothing more than to take this further, but there are so many things that are playing against me right now. One being the fact that there's a kid wide awake in the other room. The second being my currently throbbing leg.

I slide my hand behind her head, bringing her closer to me, and revel in the feeling of her body pushed against mine. I know she'll never agree to my plan of having her leave, but that's the only way to keep her safe. She might think that it's not my job to keep her safe, but I've made it my job. That's what emotions do to you. They make you do stupid things. Like try to save the girl you came here to kill.