RattlingtheCage (6 page)

Chapter Eleven

Montana didn’t sleep, too busy hashing over Lawson’s words.
She’d displayed a horrid temper to a man she wanted to impress. Not push away.
He’d saved her, and she’d acted like a petulant child. She was losing sight of
her goal.

Out her window, the sun peeked over the treetops. A brand
new day. A fresh start. She showered and threw on a short black skirt and a
tight red tank. Empowered, she left to find Lawson and make him forget all
about her tantrum.

Several knocks later on his motel room door, she wondered if
he’d gone to Libby’s or just plain wanted nothing to do with her. She persuaded
Frank, with a little cleavage-baring move, to open Lawson’s door.

Relieved to see the room empty, she poked her head inside Libby’s.

“Morning, Montana,” greeted Libby. “Haven’t seen your lovely
face in here for ages. How you been, darlin’?”

“Good, thanks.” She checked the tables but didn’t see any
sign of Lawson.

“Can I get you a menu? A cup of coffee?”

“Uh, no, thanks. I’m…I’ve gotta go.”

“Sure thing.” Libby leaned in, her voice soft. “If you’re
looking for Handsome, he’s in the motel parking lot. Been out there a while.”

Montana cocked her head toward the window and then looked
back at Libby. She wanted to ask how she knew, but remembered that Libby knew
all. “Thanks.”

“Sure, honey. Don’t be a stranger here.”

“I won’t.”

She stepped outside and shielded her eyes from the sun.
There he stood beside his beast of a truck among rows of junked cars. Montana
stole toward him. Her stomach twisted and turned. Her palms, sweaty. The
thump
thump thump
of her pulse amplified with each step. She lagged long enough
to admire his strong profile, the forward tilt of his hat, how his shirt fit
with an ironed-on flair. In the midst of enjoying the fine view, she heard a
rumblefrom the sky. Rain crashed down in
sheets. She heard Lawson curse and hurtle into his truck.

Used to the sudden downpours, she waited out the rain.
Within moments the rain stopped and the sun slipped from the clouds. The truck
door squeaked open and Lawson jumped out, grumbling something while staring up
into the sky. Not wanting to waste another minute, she held her head high, and
started toward him.

* * * * *

Lawson stiffened at the crunch of gravel behind him.
Expecting the sheriff or his useless sidekick, he readied his knife.

Instead, he took in the sight of Montana. Her body soaked
from the rain, hair slicked along her face and trailing her neck. Her top
shrink-wrapped to her curves. He swallowed down a lustful moan.

“Got caught in the rain.”

He nodded, his tongue wedged in a knot.

“Sorry for earlier.” Her lips formed a smile that made his
entire body throb. “I am glad you were there.”

“Not a big deal.” His voice came out distant. “Got over it
like, five seconds later.”

She crossed her arms behind her back and rotated to the
right, then left. “Yeah, you’re tough like that. I envy you.”

He’d just gotten his headspace back into game plan, and like
a switch she’d turned it off. “Did you want something?”

“Just to say a proper thank you.” She’d stopped rotating and
fidgeted with her hands. “Without you, Garvey would’ve…”

“Don’t. I haven’t eaten yet. I don’t need the visual to ruin
my appetite.”

She gestured toward his truck. “What are you doing out
here?”

“Someone went through my things.”

“How can you tell?”

“Stuff’s out of place. Except, it’s all here. I might be
paranoid.”

“I know how that feels. I wake up some mornings with the
feeling that someone watched me while I slept. Creeps me out.”

She moved closer and he jerked away.

“Back off, okay?”

“Why?”

“Just, you need to go.”

Montana advanced, her pretty eyes full of intent. “I can’t
stay away. You sparked something in me. I want more.”

“Tough.”

“You want me, Lawson. I can tell by the way your breath
changes around me. And don’t think I’m unaware of the view you’ve got right
now. Me all wet, my shirt skintight. Bet it’s a tempting view.”

He couldn’t argue so he kept his mouth shut.

“The way you threw me on the pool table and had your way
with me, it’s like you couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t get enough. And I want
more.”

The thought of her on the pool table repeated behind his
eyes. “Stop it.”

“You want me. I know you do. There’s energy between us. An
attraction.”

“It’s lust.” He said it in a way that made it sound
revolting. “Pure and simple.”

She inched closer and his body compressed. He forced his
hands to his sides. Without meaning to he glanced at the luscious curves of her
breasts. Her nipples two plump beads. The shirt so damn tight he didn’t see the
point of why it was still on.

His chest rose and fell swiftly. The heat made it difficult
to breathe.

“If you want me to go, tell me to go,” she challenged, and
pursed her lips.

His head screamed it at her with all the rage of a charging
bull. But he couldn’t spit the words out. Nothing prepared him for the level of
want he had for her. Maybe if he kept telling himself he didn’t want her, he’d
believe it.

Lawson inhaled before he passed out, and caught the scent of
her desire. His throat thickened. She breached the nothing of a space between
them. Her nipples pressed against his chest. Forceful. Demanding.

The word “mistake” flickered in his mind right before he
enveloped her damp flesh and crashed his mouth against hers.

He gripped her ass and hoisted her up, bringing her thighs
around his waist. With one eye crooked open, he carried her to the truck and
pressed her against its side long enough to pry open the door.

“Mind your head.”

In one fluid move he brought her inside with him onto his
lap, peeled off her top and buried his face between her breasts. All attempts
by his brain to reason with him, ignored, masked by his rapid pulse.

“Every hard inch of you feels so good,” she murmured.

His cock throbbed beneath the denim. Any sense of control,
lost. He reached across to the glove box and grabbed a condom.

Her fingers scraped at his buttons. “Get these off.”

Even his fingers fumbled as if they were swollen sausages.

“Hurry,” she cried, stress apparent in her voice.

“Trying.” Christ it was hot. Sweat trickled along his face.

Cursing, he tackled the ridiculous amount of buttons. He
considered ripping the damn things off the moment she hiked her skirt up and
pushed her panties to the side. With one last pull, he freed himself of the
denim and briefs.

Using his teeth, he tore open the foil wrapper and sheathed
his erection. Montana grabbed hold of his cock and slid down on him.

He snarled at the wetness of her, groaning as if she was a
drug that he knew he shouldn’t take but tasted too damn good to refuse.

Her eyes flickered beneath her lashes.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Oh god, yes.”

His fingers dragged through her hair, taking a clump in his
fist and forcing her seductive eyes on his.

“You’re no good for me. Do you hear?”

Biting her lip, she nodded.

He cupped her ass and helped propel her up and down his
cock. Montana kissed at his lips savagely, her hands hot and all over his face
and head.

He slipped his pinky along her tight little hole. She
gasped, her eyes wide and curious.

“Ever been touched there before?”

“No,” she whispered.

“It’s wild.”

He slid his finger in a fraction of the way and she tossed
her head back, exposing her neck.

“Like it?”

“I like everything you do to me.”

She clung to his body, her nipples hard along his chest. She
moaned. “Deeper. More.”

He slid a second finger inside and she whipped her hair, the
dark strands falling around him like eagle wings.

Thighs squeezed tight, she rode him hard and fast, soft,
breathy words flowing from her lips, her face warm and flushed. He groaned into
the sweet friction. He brought his hands to her hips and pulled her into him,
fast, fast, deep. They stayed locked in some rapid-fire movement, his body a
slave to the driving rhythm. Through cracked eyelids he noted the windows
coated in wisps of white as if to hide their indecency.

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, please, please, right there.”

He ignored the burn, the stabbing of pain in his shoulder,
and focused on the edge.

“Now,” she cried.

Her body trembled in his grasp, the contractions of her
climax pulling him off the edge with her. Head back, muscles strained, his body
shuddered. A guttural cry burst from his throat and a rippling of satisfaction
spilled forth.

Lawson pulled her into him, her body alive and writhing
against his chest. Her bubblegum breath came short and fast against his cheek.
She murmured his name and cradled his head. Face smashed against her breasts,
he breathed her in.

In the space of time with her he’d forgotten the darkness
that motivated his actions. The demons that drove him back to a place he woke up
screaming from most nights. The black hole that had sucked away his life and
that of his family. A welcome reprieve, but one he knew was short-lived.

He breathed her in again, one more moment of heaven, before
it faded and he re-entered the darkness. Where nothing good ever happened, and
where he knew he’d be a fool to ever let someone inside.

Chapter Twelve

Montana’s body thrummed. Her limbs were liquid and her body
light. She leaned back just a bit and let her eyes drift over the multitude of
scars etched along his skin. Someday she hoped to hear the story behind each
one.

A damp lock of hair hung above his eye. She tucked it into
place and sprinkled kisses along his forehead.

“That was wonderful,” she said and released a sigh of
content.

His lack of a response brought her level of bliss down a
notch.

Concerned, she asked, “What’s the matter?”

He stared past her with haunted eyes.

Montana placed her hands on either side of his face to try
to make him see her. “Are you…”

“Don’t,” he snapped and yanked her hands down.

Heaviness settled into her chest.

Grateful for the foggy windows, she climbed off and
straightened her skirt.

“I know you don’t think I’m much,” she said, pulling on her
top, “but I have big prospects out there waiting for me.” Montana tilted the
rearview mirror to check her hair. “I’m going to get where I want to be. No
one’s going to slow me down or tell me what to do.” The silence wore on her.
She wiped a small circle of condensation from the window and looked out at the
rusted old cars that once roared to life.

“I’m going to be a dancer,” she continued. “What do you
think of that?”

She craned her neck to find him still staring at the
windshield.

“Think I have a chance?”

“Sure.”

His voice startled her. Wanting to keep him talking, she
blurted, “What about with you? Think I have a chance there?”

He swung his face toward her, eyes neutral. “Like I’ve said
before, there’s nothing between us. There won’t ever be.”

She scooted closer to the door where she hoped his words
couldn’t hurt her.

“You like me more than you let on.”

He cleared his throat. “Nope.”

She didn’t believe him. Montana pushed open the door for
air. “Can’t you give us a chance?”

“I said no.”

Tears filled her eyes and she glanced away. “If you’d let
down your guard…”

“I’m not looking to be used,” he snapped.

Twisting back, she quipped, “I’m not using you.”

“Sure you are. All you care about is getting out of here.”

She shook her head and stared at the dashboard. At one time
that had been true. But the more they were together, the more he touched her,
made her feel like the most wanted woman in the world, the more it messed with
her head and her emotions. What she’d experienced with him had more substance
to it than a brief lust-fueled fuck. He’d filled her with more than flesh.

“You’re wrong. I care about you.”

“Bullshit. You like that I’m something new.”

“I said you’re wrong.”

He smiled as if it hurt his face. “You’re a sweet thing.
You’ll find someone who wants you back.”

Anger bubbled from her core. She slid out from the truck,
body quivering. “You’re a goddamn coward. You’re too scared to care about
anyone because you’ve lost everyone you’ve ever cared about.”

His face flamed. “I didn’t come here for you, and I don’t
want you with me.”

Montana kicked at the dirt. “You plan on being alone
forever?”

“Alone is safe.”

“How so?”

“It means when I die, I won’t leave someone behind to
grieve.”

She understood that. Her mother had left her behind. “Sounds
like you’re scared.”

Lawson slipped out from the truck and came toward her, his
arm outstretched, finger pointing. “What have you done to get out of here on
your own?”

“Done?”

“You whine about how much you hate this place, that you’re a
victim. Do something to change it.”

Her lips trembled. “I don’t know what to do.”

“The only thing I see is you helping everyone to be stuck
here just like yourself.”

“How?”

“You serve alcohol to people who have nothing left to live
for. They drink to numb the pain, to help them forget that they used to have a
good life. Why do you think they’re given such a large tab? The sheriff wants
them inebriated and stupid so he can get away with anything he wants, because
if he’s ever called on anything, it’s his word against a bunch of drunks.”

“It’s a job. I have a debt to pay.” She swiped at her eye,
cursing the stupid tears.

“Don’t start crying.”

“I’m not. I’m mad. I’m mad at you. You push me away, pull me
back and push me away again. You’re a selfish bastard.”

“Good. Get mad if that means knocking you off the pity
stool.”

She stepped forward, readying to swing, and then froze, her
eyes wide.

His brows arched. “That’s right. You have fight in you.
Fight me, I don’t care, get passionate about something. You’re beautiful but
you’ve got more going for you than looks. You’ve got survival skills. You can
get out of here if you want to bad enough.”

“And you’re just a jerk.”

“The only way I know how to be. Don’t plan on changing.”

“Whatever.” She knew that he wanted her to believe that, but
she wasn’t so sure.

“I mean it when I say keep your distance. You’re a
distraction that I don’t need.”

“Fine. I’m gone.”

Montana left without looking back. She didn’t care what he
thought. She wasn’t using him. Not anymore. And he did need her. Even if he
didn’t want to admit it. Even if he found out too late.

* * * * *

Lawson fished the condom wrapper from the seat and crumpled
it in his fist. He was getting dangerously close to fucking everything up.

After checking the truck once more, he dragged his tired ass
to his room and into bed. A few hours’ sleep would refresh him. He did a mental
checklist of where he’d stashed his guns in case the sheriff or deputy visited,
and palmed the magnum beneath his pillow.

Eyes closed, he thought of his grandfather. Cole Cage
wouldn’t be too pleased about his reason for returning. But he’d live with it.
Sometimes violence made the most sense.

The sound of rocks hitting his window sent him diving to the
floor. More rocks splattered, this time with more force. Another round and
they’d crack the glass. He reached beneath the pillowcase and grabbed his
magnum. Someone wanted a few rounds pumped into his chest.

Gun cocked, he waited. His eyes darted between the door and
window. Like hell he’d go to jail without a fight.

Minutes passed and his pulse stabilized. He moved to a
crouch and snuck toward the window. Not seeing anyone, he unlocked the door and
poked his head out. An elderly man motioned to him from about ten feet away.

Lawson placed a finger on his chest.

The old man nodded.

He checked both sides of the street.

“Hurry,” the man said.

“What’s this about?”

“Just come on.”

Lawson tucked the gun in his pants and checked the street
again, certain it was a trap.

“Look, I don’t…”

The man’s voiced raised. “Mr. Cage, you’re going to want to
hear what I have to say.”

Shocked to hear his last name, he sped up. “Shit, man.
You’ve got my attention.”

“Come inside.”

He ducked under the eaves and followed him in.

The shabby house, with its burnt-corn smell and scant
belongings, barely allowed him to stand straight. An old radio in the corner
played a scratchy tune. The elderly man motioned toward two pea-green
recliners. “Have a seat. My back gives out pretty easy these days.”

Lawson noticed several pictures of a pretty woman scattered
around the room. “How do you know my name?”

“You look like your grandfather.”

His eyes widened. “You knew Cole Cage?”

“Went to school with him,” he said and broke into a wheezing
fit. “Excuse me a moment.” He coughed into a rag for another minute and then
inhaled deeply through his nose. “We weren’t in the same class or anything,” he
continued, “but back then we only had the schoolhouse and all of us kids
learned together.” He stuck out his other hand. “Name’s Jake Sanderson.”

Lawson returned the handshake and occupied the other
recliner. “I’d appreciate you keeping who I am under wraps.”

Jake tapped his finger against his lips. “Your secret’s
safe.”

“Much obliged.”

“My wife passed last year. I don’t have much need to talk to
anyone else.”

Lawson looked back to the pictures and removed his hat. “My
condolences. Ruth, my grandmother, died last year, too.”

“Now that’s a shame. She turned many heads around here.
Plenty of suitors lined up for her hand in marriage.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“She chose the right man.”

Lawson nodded.

“Your grandfather was a good, honest man,” he continued.
“Smart too. Excelled in math. Could work any problem put on the chalkboard.
Married young, right after finishing up his final year. Worked hard to care for
his family.”

“Afraid I didn’t pick up any math from him.”

“I’m more of a craftsman myself. Used to rebuild cars, until
Mitchum decided to have them all towed.”

Lawson interrupted. “You wanted to tell me something.”

“I wanted you to know that your grandpa was well thought of
around here. Nothing was ever the same after Mitchum reduced Cage Crossing to
ashes. He might’ve hoped people would forget what he did to your family, but no
one did.”

“I appreciate hearing that.”

Jake leaned in. “Cole knew something was up at the bank, and
knew JR Mitchum took money from the people. That’s why they made his life
hell.”

“I know it,” said Lawson. He scowled. “I plan to find that
money. Mitchum doesn’t deserve it.”

The old man sat back and patted the top of his bald head a
few times. “I heard the money is hidden someplace where no one will find it.”

“You mean other than in the bank vault?”

“I reckon.”

Lawson frowned. “But you don’t know where.”

“I hear the talk. There’ve been many who’ve lost their lives
searching for that money. It’s around. Waiting for the right man to find it.”

Lawson’s leg bobbed.

“I knew change was coming when you drove into town.”

“How so?”

“A Cage has returned home. Already the town is better for
it.”

Uneasy with the praise, Lawson stared at his boots. On a
whole, the townspeople were kind folks. He’d imagined them gutless, having done
nothing to help his grandfather. Getting to know the people, caring about them,
made his task difficult. He’d meant to burn the place to the ground. But now,
he found himself conflicted.

A cold sweat started along his back. He’d overstayed. He
started to get up. “I should get going now.”

“He’d be proud of you,” said Jake.

Lawson went ramrod straight. “I don’t think so.”

“I know it,” the old man said firmly. “He believed in
fairness.”

Throat tight, he said, “I don’t share his philosophy on
handling problems peacefully.”

“Then you’ve learned a valuable lesson from him.”

“I’ve learned how to live and breathe hate.”

Jake shook his head. “You’ve learned to survive.”

“Thanks.” He stuck his hand out and patted the man’s
shoulder. “I appreciate your words about my grandpa.”

“Sure. Like I said, he was a good man. Better man than the
rest of us.”

Lawson placed his hat back on. “I’ll see myself out.”

A light mist hung in the air. Warm and pleasant. He stepped
off Jake’s porch. Fresh prints in the dirt drew his attention. Boot prints that
trailed to the parking lot. He clutched his gun and followed past the rusted
cars, glancing inside and underneath each one. Whoever had been there didn’t
stick around long.

The footprints ended at the driver’s side of his truck. He
checked the seat, the tires and the glove box. Someone had indeed rifled
through his belongings. No paranoia about it. Someone had something on him.

Things were about to escalate fast.