Fate’s Unseen Shadow (Cager #1)

Chapter 6

6

I t didn’t matter about the vintage or winery, drinking an entire bottle of wine after not drinking for a month had been a mistake. But the twelve hours of sleep afterward were incredible—minus the nightmare. She never stopped seeing the face of her stalker. Every single night, it tormented her until she awoke sweaty and shaking.

But the nightmare was long gone. Ella stared at the clock on the side table on the nightstand. Same as the last time she looked at it and it displayed nine o’clock. Was that banging in her head? A light headache throbbed at her temples, but where were those distinct thumps coming from?

Was Damon hitting a punching bag? She’d expected him to return last night, but he didn’t. His parking spot still stood empty before the wine forced her to stumble to bed. Probably for the best he didn’t have to deal with a drunken Ella on his first day meeting her. She’d have embarrassed herself, without a doubt. Either by crying again from the stress of her life or forgetting her situation and his generosity and solely focusing on her attraction. Incredible that now she was attracted to a man. First time in her life a man could smile and her stomach do a little flip.

She’d been with a man before, settling for a casual relationship with Matteo for the past few years. It’d made her feel less alone. But she never made an effort with him. Never dressed cute. Never flirted. They simply existed. If she tried to get Damon’s attention in that way, would she make a fool of herself?

She rolled over, flopping onto her back, and realized she hadn’t moved all night because of the aches in her joints. Sitting up, Ella looked around the bedroom. First thing on her agenda this morning was another shower. This time, she used her own shampoo and body wash. Shortly after running away, she’d discovered that gyms had showers in their locker rooms. Convincing the front desk that her sister had left something in the locker room, while her luxury car sat on the curb, was easy. Once they glanced at it, they let her inside, allowing her to take a quick shower.

And no matter what he said, she’d pay Damon back for this. She’d find out the rent on this place and write him a check for this and everything else he’d done for her. It didn’t matter if the guys normally did this sort of thing for free. She’d personally hand each of them a check equal to the FBI’s reward because they’d saved her life. Even Slater.

Ella left the shower and realized the punching below had stopped. Was he still there? Rushing to catch him before he left, she put on a light layer of makeup, brushed her teeth, and dried her hair a moment before a knock sounded at her door.

“It’s me,” Damon called.

She double-checked the peephole before opening the door. “Good morning,” she said, smiling.

His eyebrows lifted. “Wow. This is a different woman than the one I left last night.”

“What? The fact I’m clean, well-rested, or finished with my mental breakdown?”

“I guess all three.” He looked past her and pointed to the empty bottle on the counter. “Did the wine help or hurt your mood?”

“It did make me cry a few more times, but I think you’re safe from tears for now.” She wanted him to come inside and stay. Last night had been necessary. She’d expelled the last of her pity party alone. But today she was back. Not as Elizabeth, but as Ella. Whoever that turned out to be.

“I don’t mind the tears. I hate that I’m unable to fix it for you, but I will.”

And his easy confidence peeled off another layer of stress. She stepped to the side. “Do you want to come in?”

Why was she nervous about asking him to stay? She never got nervous. Her father had trained her for her job, but he’d never prepped her for a set of dark eyes that made her stumble over her words.

Damon moved past her. “Breakfast is on its way. I ordered a large coffee. I wasn’t sure if you drank coffee or not.”

Damn. The fresh scent of his shower mixed with his cologne. She closed the door behind him, exhaling to get her reaction under control. “I love coffee. I used to live off the stuff.”

He pulled out a chair at the small four-person dining room table and waited.

Hiding her smile, she took the seat he offered. “Did you find the missing child?” He sat across from her. “Or do you have to keep looking today?”

“We found him. Along with six others.”

“Six?” She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table, chin in her hands. “Were they, uh, alive?” What a horrible thing to ask, but based on the lack of surprise in his expression, it wasn’t out of the question.

“Yes. But it was ugly. They had him, and the others, drugged. Ryker found them for sale on a human trafficking website on the dark web.”

She jerked upright, her mouth falling open. “That’s horrible!”

Damon scratched his cheek and relaxed back in the chair. “It is, and it won’t be the last time we deal with this shit. Thankfully, we have Ryker. In the last few years, everything has changed in terms of how we find people. Not sure we’d be any more efficient than the police if we didn’t have him breaking laws and hacking into websites.”

“So, you and your friends are really good at your job?”

“If by good you mean we get results, yes. We’ve only had two cases we couldn’t solve in the last five years. The number of jobs are picking up. Either more kids are disappearing or people are contacting us. It’s not to say that the police or the FBI wouldn’t find the children eventually. They do. We cut through the bullshit and find them however we can.”

“And you don’t get in trouble for it?”

He shrugged. “I won’t say we’ve never gotten in trouble for it, but it would be a public relations nightmare for them to prosecute us for finding missing children and saving their lives.” He drummed his fingers on the table, studying her.

She returned his direct eye contact. “Do you think you’ll be as successful at finding a killer?”

“I’ll be honest, Ella. This is a first. We find people, but we’ve never solved crimes. We leave that to the police. They need evidence for prosecution. It’s easy to do when we find a child or teenager in someone’s basement. But police need to gather the evidence so the prosecutor can prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Harder to do with the victim sitting across from me.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t help that the police told me I made up everything about the stalker. I told them when they first arrived, but they dismissed me. Again.”

“Yes. I saw that in the report Ryker pulled.” He narrowed his eyes. “I can’t promise we’ll solve this, but I can tell you we’re going to give it a hell of a go. And until we do, you’re safe. You can stay here as long as you need to.” Damon’s phone chimed. “That’s breakfast. Hold on a second.” He left the apartment to meet the delivery person at the parking lot before bringing it back upstairs. “Before I forget, I picked you up a phone and a prepaid debit card. It has $2,000 on it right now. If you need more, let me know.”

“Thank you. I’ll pay you back. I feel like I’ll be saying that daily.”

“Then don’t. It’ll get annoying.”

She snorted at the bluntness of his statement. “Noted.”

Damon pulled breakfast sandwiches out of the brown paper sack. He set tiny creamers and sugar packets on the counter beside the coffee. “I told them to put everything for coffee in the bag. I didn’t know how you liked it.”

“One step away from causing a cavity.”

He laughed lightly. “Good to know. Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you. It’s Thursday. We get a decent crowd at Cager on Thursdays, but nothing unmanageable. I’ll drive you over around five-thirty. Give you an hour or two with Lacy, the bartender, before it gets busy. Then you’ll be good to go on your own by Friday or Saturday night.”

She paused in unwrapping the sandwich. “Will you not be there?”

“I will. The guys will show up and leave as they please, but I’ll stay all night.” He smiled and took a big bite.

She ate, considering him. She’d been willing to work at Cager alone, without his presence, but the immediate relief of him being there was unexpected. “Are you staying because of me?”

“Yes.” He lifted his gaze, holding hers. “I won’t leave you unprotected until this is resolved.”

Her thank-yous were sounding insufficient for how much he’d done for her in the last day. A perfect stranger had done more to help her than anyone she’d known since her father died. She pushed away the sad thought.

“Why do you have this apartment already set up?” Ella asked.

Damon sipped his coffee. “For our runaways, mostly. We don’t typically invite them into our houses to stay. Sometimes, we need a place for them to sleep a night or two before we can figure out our next step or wait for their family to come.”

She took the lid off her coffee, the smell so familiar it brought up another wave of emotion. “Are you the leader of your group? The others seem to do what you say.”

He shrugged. “There’s not really a leader, but we all have our own skill set, I guess you could call it. If we’re going after a criminal, Slater takes point. He used to be a detective and saw a lot of action. Xavier is usually the one that backs him up.”

“Why him?”

“They both carry.”

“Guns?” She slowed in her chewing. “And you and Ryker don’t?”

“Ryker does, and he knows how to use it, but it’s not the same level of training as the rest of us. Runaways usually default to me.”

“Why?”

Watching her as he chewed a large bite of his sandwich, he seemed to consider how to answer her. He could watch her all day if he wanted. It gave her an excuse to look at him, too. She’d almost convinced herself he wasn’t as handsome as she imagined yesterday. Nope. Not her imagination at all. The timing of meeting him would suck except for the clear fact that if she’d run into Damon as Elizabeth, nothing would’ve happened. Her old self worked too hard to eat a breakfast sandwich across from a man and enjoy his company. She’d be on her phone, working. And he wouldn’t have noticed her regardless.

“We don’t usually give people the background of how we got started.”

“I won’t tell anyone if you’re worried about that.” She tried for a smile, but her lips barely moved. “I have no one left to tell.”

She was alone. That hit her. Teddy had been her closest friend. The fact everyone thought she was his killer stung deeper than the simple false accusation.

“Focus on eating, Ella. Not crying. Why don’t you make your coffee?”

Frowning, she set down her sandwich and switched to fixing her coffee like he suggested. No one could read her this easily before.

“And it’s not so much a worry as it is telling you about the other guys’ personal business. It’s not mine to tell.”

She looked up from stirring her coffee. “I’m only interested in your story.”

He relaxed in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin before giving her a nod. “Alright. My seven-year-old niece was abducted. She was at an amusement park, and my sister let her go to the bathroom alone while she stood in the line to get her an ice cream. Hayley never returned and wasn’t in the bathroom when my sister went to look. At first, they thought she’d wandered off. But by the end of the day, they’d reported it as a missing child.”

“Oh, Damon. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horrible for you and your family.”

“My sister is a single mom, so after she called the police, she called me. Thankfully, I’d left the Marines about three months earlier. The police passively accepted the amusement park’s explanation for why they couldn’t pull the footage from the security cameras. I knew that was bullshit, so I called Xavier.”

“I saw his Marines shirt yesterday. So you were there together?”

“Yes. Xavier suggested we talk to a guy who he had met a month earlier. So, we took a trip and met with Ryker. The only thing we hoped for was that Ryker could tell us if the amusement park told the truth. He did us better than that. Within an hour, he’d pulled their footage, caught the man leaving the park with her, and identified the car that had her. He tracked the car through traffic cams and got a clear enough shot to run facial recognition on the man driving. It produced a hit for a mug shot from ten years prior.”

“That’s incredible.” She sipped her coffee. “What happened?”

“With that information, I went to the police and”—he set his hand on the table, fisting it before laying it flat—“they did fucking nothing. They said they were working on the investigation, and we needed to step back. They wouldn’t even let me show them the pictures. Threatened to arrest me if I didn’t leave the station.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to them.”

“Of course not. Xavier and I took off to the location Ryker found. Found Hayley. And then I went to prison.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Wait. Why did you go to prison? For interfering in the investigation?”

He tipped the corner of his lips up, seeming amused at the memory. “No. We found Hayley in this guy’s garage while he was inside the house. I passed her to Xavier to take to safety. Then I let myself into the house.” He lifted his chin. “Eat, Ella. Before it gets cold.”

She picked up the sandwich, more interested in the story. “Did you shoot him?”

“No. I didn’t carry a gun, and I still don’t. I had my fill of them in the Marines.”

That was interesting. “Then what did you do?” She took a bite.

“I beat the shit out of him.”

Ella snorted and then coughed, nearly choking on the bite she’d taken. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to say that either.” She coughed again. “So they got you on battery?”

“Battery? Oh, no. I left him permanently disfigured and one step away from death.” He said it so calmly, it was difficult to tell if it was true. But why would he lie about that? Even knowing his time in the Marines, it was hard to imagine him that…scary? He seemed sweet and caring.

“Do you like your sandwich? I can order you something else.”

She smiled. “It’s delicious. Back to your story. It doesn’t sound like you needed a gun after all. Did you stop on purpose?”

“Yes. Otherwise, they would’ve charged me with premeditated murder.”

“It’s ridiculous you received any time. How long were you in jail?” Shaking her head, she added, “Not sure I’ve ever said those words before to someone over breakfast.”

He crossed his arms, pausing a moment before answering. “I was in for nine months before I was paroled out.” He smirked. “I see that bothers you.”

“You being in jail doesn’t bother me, but that seems a little excessive for what he did to your niece.”

“I was glad to take the punishment.”

He’d mentioned taking care of the stalker if he showed up at Cager. Based on that story, he wouldn’t have any issue. “Where is the guy that took Hayley now? Still in prison, I hope.”

“Dead.”

She slowed her chewing. “Do I want to know how that happened?”

“Probably not.” He took another bite of his sandwich like the idea of the man’s death didn’t faze him in the least. She wouldn’t take away her initial thought of Damon being a nice guy, but there was a darker side in there where death and possibly murder was normal. Anyone who dealt with runaways and their horrible situations in such a straightforward, matter-of-fact way had to have a harder side to their personality.

He’d saved a half-dozen children last night and yet, he sat across from her like it was a normal Thursday morning.

“Is your coffee sweet enough? I’ll get you something else if you need it.”

Ella shook her head, taking her cue to move on from their previous conversation, although she still had dozens of questions. “This entire breakfast is great.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and reached for her coffee. “What time do you want me ready tonight?”

“Five-thirty is fine. Go ahead and order yourself dinner before then. Don’t forget lunch.”

She laughed lightly. “You are really worried about me eating.”

Damon didn’t return her laughter. “Based on the pictures that I could find on the Internet, you’ve lost a significant amount of weight in the last month. It’s hard not to think it’s because you didn’t have the money to eat.”

With a sigh, she agreed. Her clothes hung from her body. “I guess I need to go shopping for clothes. I have some, but I don’t think it’s anything I can wear to work in a bar. I’m sure a mall is the last place you want to go with me.”

“The mall is the last place I want you to go, period. We need to limit your exposure. I’m fine with you at the bar. No one there will recognize you or expect you to be somewhere like that. I watched your news story yesterday morning and didn’t see any resemblance until you showed me your license. But out and about at the mall is a different story. If you order things, I will pick them up.”

Thankfully, having tried items on in thrift stores gave her a general idea of her size. “Sounds good.”

He pulled out his wallet and set his credit card on the table. “You have about thirty minutes before I need to go to work. Use the phone I gave you and order what you want. I don’t care.”

She grimaced, slouching in the chair. “I really hate you spending money on me.”

He lifted his gaze from his phone. “Just order the clothes, Ella. Stop complaining about the money. Unless you start buying dozens of thousand-dollar shoes, you can’t break me.”

Ella lifted her eyebrows. “It might be fun to try.”

“To break me?” His slow smile made her question teasing him. “I’m game any time you want to try.”

Her face heated, and she broke eye contact first. She didn’t know how to flirt. Had never tried to with Matteo. It still hurt that Matteo had never released a statement as a character witness, rebuking the assumption she’d killed Teddy. Had never tried to call her phone. Nothing. Ella had walked away and it was as though she had never existed for him. Why?

Maybe someday she’d know the answer. For now, she’d keep moving forward in life. “Maybe I’ll stick with clothes shopping for now.” Ella opened the phone and pulled up a list of nearby stores. There was a store with heavily discounted dresses. One dress reminded her of one that her mom had worn in the ’80s for Easter. It had a floral pattern that should be on a sofa; a wide, white collar; and a hem to the ground.

“This might work for your bar,” she said.

He continued to look at his phone. “Order it. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“I do, too. Can you tell me which color I should get?”

“Color for what?” He looked up as she turned her phone around. He leaned to the side to see her around the phone. “Ella…”

“What?”

“No.”

“You don’t like that color?”

He grimaced. “I don’t like the whole thing.”

“Why not?”

“You need to blend in, not stand out. I don’t know how you used to dress, and you’d look hot in anything you put on”—he refocused on his phone—“but that would make you stand out. No one dresses like that in Cager.”

Hot?

No one had ever referred to her as hot before. “I’m not hot,” she blurted out.

“Not sure who told you that, but yes, you are. You’ve seen Cager.” He turned his phone around, showing a website with Cager written across the top. A woman with jet-black hair, a nose ring, piercings up each ear, a neck tattoo, and a tattoo of a butterfly across her cleavage stood behind the bar, looking directly at the camera. She wore a badass leather vest and a gold bracelet on her upper arm, contrasting against the tattoos. “This is Lacy, who you’ll be bartending with. Not sure a floral pattern dress that looks like my grandmother’s sofa works.”

“I see. Do we need to hit the tattoo shop first?”

He snorted. “No. That’s not necessary.”

“I’ve always thought of getting a tattoo. But whenever I brought it up to my dad, I got a lecture about professionalism. That no one would trust me with their money if I were covered in tattoos.” She switched to a different clothing store website, something edgier, ordering three pairs of black pants and three pairs of ripped jeans. Two different pairs of sneakers that, based on a quick search, should be fashionable. And five different tops. She added a few new bras and some packs of underwear at the last second because her old ones were too big.

She looked at the total and grimaced. “It’s $600 for everything. I promise I will pay you back.”

“Stop saying that.” His hard tone made her hold her next statement of thanking him again. It seemed that she’d officially hit the end of his patience on the matter.

It was strange having someone tell her what to do. No one had ever done that, not since her dad had died. She shoved away the immediate need to do the opposite to make a point. That was childish. She’d pay him back, whether she said it a million times or not.

Moving on, she glanced at the time on the phone. “You said you had to get to work. What do you do aside from being a bounty hunter and owning Cager?”

“I work in real estate.”

“That’s right. You own this apartment complex.”

“I own several. I also developed three different neighborhoods around town. I have four different stores that I lease in the city market.” His phone rang. “It’s Xavier.” He put him on speaker and set it on the table. “You have me and Ella here.”

“Breakfast meeting? I wonder why I wasn’t invited.” He laughed lightly, and Damon glowered at the phone for some reason.

“Get to the point.”

Another louder laugh, then Xavier asked, “Have you even gone to sleep?”

Damon shifted in the chair. “An hour or two.”

“Same. Look, I just got a very interesting call from someone asking about Ella.”

“Me?” She jumped to her feet. “Someone called you about me? How would they…Was it the FBI? Did they find?—”

“Ella.” Damon’s sharp tone caught her by surprise. “Sit back down and finish your coffee. Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.” He stared up at her from his seat. “Xavier, you might want to continue with your story before I have to prove to my guest that I can chase her down because she’s about to bolt.”

Ella crossed her arms but didn’t sit. Her body was full of nerves. Because no matter how much he promised he’d keep her safe, she had to rely on herself. That’s what had saved her over the last month.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. We got hired to find you. Small damn world.”

Damon snapped his focus to the phone. “You took it?”

“Hell yes, I took it. It works out perfectly. Now, we can ask questions, and no one will wonder why.”

A spark of hope caught her by surprise. “Who hired you to find me? Matteo?”

Damon cocked his head, giving her a hard glare. “Who the hell is Matteo?”

“A guy I’ve casually seen for a few years.”

“A few years?” That didn’t seem to make sense to him. “How is anyone casual with someone for years?”

“Sounds like a booty call,” Xavier announced.

“Is that what it is?” Damon asked, irritated.

Xavier’s laugh echoed through the phone, darkening Damon’s glare.

Ella rolled her eyes. “I’ve never used the term booty call to describe any relationship. In my world, I go to events and functions that require dates. Fundraisers. Gallery openings. Things like that. Matteo does, too. You could say that he and I have gone to these functions as dates off and on for the last four years. We’re friends. Or I thought we were. He hasn’t seemed to care I’ve disappeared,” she muttered, still pissed at the thought. “Never tried to call my phone. No public interviews. Just silence.”

Damon relaxed a fraction. “Got it.”

She added, “And if a booty call happened after that, there wasn’t much emotion involved.”

He grunted. “He sounds like a piece of shit.”

That caused her to jerk back. “Why would you say that? You’ve never met him.”

“Don’t need to.” He looked down at the phone. “Was it Matteo, Xavier?”

“Fortunately for Matteo, it was not.”

The way he said it didn’t make much sense. “Who contacted you?” she asked.

“Julia Cassin.”

A subtle gasp escaped her body. “My stepmother?” Why in the hell did that woman want to find her?