Little Bird (Caged #1) (6 page)

By the time he finishes his meal, I'm weak and a tremble has started throughout my body from an uncountable number of slices into my flesh. Blood has been rolling over my back and dripping around me almost since he started.

Pulling me up by the hair, his utensils fall to the floor but he discards them and pulls me to the bathroom where he turns the shower on and waits until the water begins to steam. I remind myself the pain will be worse if I fight or defy him so when he directs me under the stream, I go and involuntarily whimper from the scalding on my open flesh. I keep my back to him because if I watch, he makes it more fucked up. I see his hand grab my loofa then hear the sounds of him moving around. The second the bleach smell hits my nose, I press against the wall.

  "Jasper," I say in a pleading tone before he scrubs my wounds.

  "Yes, Little Bird?" he taunts me and I grip the shower ledge.

  "I love you," I tell him a second before he presses the bleach soaked loofa to my back and begins to scrub.

  "I know."

The man is a monster and will never be any other way, but if I soften him up with false claims of love and adoration, the torture he gets off on is less satisfying for him so it's short. He does what he has to do until I'm squeaking through whimpers of pain, but keeping my lip clamped to keep from outright screaming. When he's done, he gently washes my body in soap and delicately rinses me as if he has a concept of compassion. I know better. 

  "I've gotten you a new pet," he tells me, seating me naked and cold on the couch. My eyes flash to Pretty Bird's empty cage. "Don't move."

He returns through the front door with a large black sack holding something heavy. As he reaches in, the look on his face tells me this isn't a new pet for me as much as it is for him and he withdraws a python as big around as his arm and it appears to be longer than Bronson is tall. 

  "Do you like it?" He walks toward me as the snake begins to wrap around his arm. "It hasn't eaten in a week." His words make me close my eyes. "You can feed it when I leave."

The heavy snake is placed onto my shoulders and I stare up at Jasper, trying to master the look of empathy I know makes him uncomfortable.

  "Beautiful," he says with a sinister glint in his eye. "Stand and bend." With his command, he begins to undress and I take in a deep breath because I know soon this python will be wrapped around my neck and cut off my air supply.

I try not to make a sound, I try not to jolt as Jasper slams into me from behind. Unsure what makes this snake constrict more, I want to avoid noise and sudden movement. Is it just hunger guiding his grip, or is it stress from a distressed woman? Whatever it is, my air restriction has blood pulsing at each pressure point.

  "Jasper, please," I manage.

  "What have you become, Little Bird? Why do you betray me?"

I begin to shake my head no but that makes the snake tighten.

  "I haven't," I insist in a strangled tone. 

  "You're lying. I don't know what you've done yet, but I created you, I know you're lying." He's still behind me, fucking me as if this is consensual while the python's grip is so tight I can't fit a finger between my neck and the snake anymore. 

As I get too weak to stand, I drop to my knees and I hear him laughing.

  "Are you dying, Little Bird?" he whispers in my ear, holding my head up by my hair.

There are no words but I almost wish I could convince him I'm not because I know he won't let me die, and if I could just slip away without him suspecting, it'll all be over. 

  "I wouldn't kill my little pet."

A searing pain stabs into the side of my neck where it curves to my shoulder. He's shoved a knife through the snake and into my neck, but the snake relaxes and I'm able to gasp in a breath.

  "Yet," Jasper growls and lets me fall to the floor.

Bright spots cloud my vision as I try to free myself from the snake still wrapped around my throat. The more I move, the more blood I pump from the slice in my neck.

  "Jasper," I say before I fall flat on the floor as a chill runs through my entire body that I imagine is what death would feel like.

It takes a few minutes to realize he's left. He's left me to bleed to death or find will to survive. The bastard. I will die if I don't get help and I refuse to die from his hand. 

Dragging my body I can't get to function properly anymore, I make it to the garage, still trying to fight the limp snake off, but it's tangled with me and too heavy for me to lift in this state. Getting to my feet, I press the garage door opener and grab my hanging car keys before stumbling down the stairs and landing flat again.

Looking out the rising door I see a figure walking toward the garage but the bright lights in my vision win out and the ignorant idea to drive myself to a hospital dies with my will. 

Hours later and I'm still fucking fuming from Jasper's visit. How the hell can he think I'm going to fail this mission... I've never fucking failed a thing in my life!

FUCK!

Then to top it off, I can't help but look in every fucking tree I pass to find this goddamned blue shithead and I feel like today has turned me into a madman.

Who the hell cares that much about a bird? I know my answer. Just the frantic sound to her voice told me she's probably only ever remotely cared about one thing in her life and it just so happens to be a fucking bird. 

Pretty Bird. Ha! 

Whatever the case, I still have nothing on her and in about twelve hours she's going to be having police escort me out of here unless I give her a reason to let me stay, or kill her just because of a hunch.

Either way, this is the first time ever that I feel truly fucked and I hate it so bad. I'm not conceited by any means, but I know if we end tonight in her bed, fucking until we can't see straight, that she's not going to want me to leave so soon. 

She's going to need more. They always do. 

Sliding on my shoes, I get the uneasy feeling of being way too fucking comfortable in this house. It's not my house. I murdered two people right where I'm standing not too long ago just so I could live here and spy on Megan. I shouldn't feel so comfortable here. I need to finish this job, take care of the issue and go on my way. Being comfortable is a sign of weakness, and I'm not fucking weak. Far from it. There's no room for comfort, relationships, or long term anything in my world. I can't do what I do and have that type of life at the same time.

I walk outside and immediately hate the bugs swarming around the porch light. I need out of here and back to the city. Walking down the sidewalk, I notice a few of the elderly neighbors are on their front porches just watching the world pass by; probably counting the minutes until their lives are finally over. 

I can take care of that for you. 

I grin to myself, the thought making me surprisingly happy. It's been way too fucking long since I've felt that rush of taking someone's life. 

Down the street and around the corner is Megan's house. I run this route twice a day just to make sure she sees me... and I know she does. I must have hit it perfect too, because it looks like her garage door is opening.

As I approach closer, I get a feeling that something's not right. Her car should be started by now. There should be brake lights. I should see something. 

What the fuck is going on? 

I speed up, walking briskly to get to the house just in case that fucking kid is still there and trying to escape. That'd be just her fucking luck today. Lose a bird and a kid in one day. Jesus, that's bad luck. 

That's when I see her. It's not the kid at all, but it's Megan and she's wrapped in... a fucking snake? Jesus Christ!

"Megan?!" Jogging into the garage, taking in everything around me, nothing seems out of place other than the fact that she's naked, covered in blood, and tangled in a dead python. "Motherfucker." Hitting the garage door opener, making sure no one in the neighborhood sees this, I quickly rid her of the snake. My hand goes to her neck where the blood is flowing from and I curse. Someone tried fucking killing her... and on my watch! I can't fucking believe this. 

Wrapping one hand around her neck, this isn't the way I originally envisioned the reason for me to be squeezing her neck, but if I ever want to be able to make it that far, I have to apply pressure to this wound.

Fuck, her entire body is cold. I have to get her inside and covered, then I have to figure out how to fix this wound without needing to go to the hospital. I've sewn up plenty of wounds before, but nothing in the neck and nothing that's bled this much.

I pick her up effortlessly and carry her inside. She's out, but there's a heartbeat still... slow, but it's there. She's not dead yet and I'm not letting her. I have a job to finish and I can't do that if she's already dead. After leading myself to a closet and a bathroom, I finally find her master bedroom and lie her on the bed, wrapping the blanket around her naked, cold body. Keeping one hand pressed against her neck, I grab my phone and dial the one person that can help me with this without involving the cops. 

"What?" Jasper's growl comes through after not even a full ring. Fucker. 

"Someone fucking stabbed her." I'm trying not to sound frantic but I wasn't expecting this tonight.

"And?" He sounds bored, but he should be pissed that someone's fucking with his employee. "She's gonna be fine, it didn't even go that deep, Lucas. Throw a fucking stitch in her." He chuckles. "Fucking bitch." 

"You did this?!" I'm seething that he'd come and do this to her for no good reason. Fucking seething. 

"It's my personal life, Ace. I fuck who I fuck and how I want to fuck them." He growls something then hangs up immediately, leaving me with a sense of dread. 

He did this to her. That's why he was in the neighborhood earlier. It wasn't to check in on me, it was to play with his fuck toy. It all makes sense now. 

I hear a small whimper come from her and notice the blood's slowed significantly. Pressing a pillow to it, I rush to the attached bathroom to see if she has anything at all to help with this. After opening the cabinet, I realize this probably isn't the first time something of this nature has happened to her. My stomach immediately feels ill and a rage starts to build. Gauze, needles, every type of antiseptic you can think of... it's like a fucking hospital right here in her bathroom. Jesus Christ. 

After grabbing the supplies as fast as I can, I'm back at her bedside to clean her up. The blood has slowed and she's taking normal breaths again, thank God. The minute the needle pierces her skin I see her brows furrow and hear the groan come out of those sexy lips that are still pale from what she's been through. 

"Fuck," she groans and this feeling of wanting to keep her from unwarranted pain washes over me. 

What the hell is that all about?

"It's me, Megan. It's Luke, I've got you."

Her eyes flutter but she can't keep them open. I clean the wound as I stitch, tightly adhering her flesh back together and for some reason feeling guilty for the scar she'll have. Though, she's covered in them... This girl's story keeps getting more fucked up.

Every now and then she groans but that's the extent of her consciousness. I'm not certain how deep this stab goes, but from the amount of blood, she's going to be hurting for a while. That's when I remember her back.

"I have to clean your back. Can you roll to your side for me, Birdie?" I'm not sure what possessed me to use that name. Maybe it's my urge to make her feel as comfortable as I can at this very moment in time, but the second it slipped from my lips her eyes flew open and now she's glaring at me. 

"The fuck y—" she hisses, probably because her dumb ass just tried moving her head too fast, then reaches for her neck. Her hand finds the gauze I just placed over the stitches and she blinks a few times before looking at me. "What did you do?" Her voice is raspy but she's definitely got that same attitude she's had since day one. 

Well played, Ms. Porter. 

"I saved your goddamned life. A 'thank you' would suffice." I stand from the bed, busying myself with cleaning up the bloodied towels and throwing out the soaked rags. 

"How'd you get in my fucking house?" She tries to sit up to look at me but doesn't get far.

"I let myself in. I guess finding you passed out on the floor of your garage covered in blood and a fucking python is as good of a reason as any to let myself in."

Ungrateful comes to mind when thinking of words to describe her anger. She's not even fully awake yet and she's already pissed at me for being here. No 'thank you' or anything for saving her life. 

"Jasper," she breathes his name and closes her eyes. "I'm going to kill the fucker."

That little threat alone makes me chuckle. She's cute when she's pissed. 

"I think you're going to need some pain meds but all I found was bandages and shit in the bathroom. Where are your heavy meds? That's gonna hurt when you fully wake up." I nod towards her neck. 

"The painting in the bathroom." She lets out a groan and her hand covers the wound on her neck as she winces. "Shit. The painting in the bathroom. Push the top right corner."

I turn around and head back into the bathroom. Opening the painting, it swings open and reveals a stash of probably thousands of dollars worth of high-end shit that definitely doesn't belong in any random person's house. After grabbing a few different bottles, I fill a cup with water from the sink and return to see her sitting up more. 

"Got enough drugs in there?" Tossing the bottles at her, I set the water on the side table and watch her start to read the labels, deciding how she's going to take the edge off. 

Ignoring me, she pulls out a few pills and swallows them down before putting her fingers to her neck again. "Did you stitch me?" Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

"I did. Boy Scouts one-O-one." I grin at her when she rolls her eyes. Fuck if I know if Boy Scouts learn that shit, I never went through those stages, but it seems to silence the questions. 

"Did anyone else see me in the garage?"

"I can't say, honestly. There wasn't a lot of blood on the ground around you so I'm assuming you hadn't been there long. I got you inside and closed the door so I think it's safe to assume it's just you and me." I sit on the bed, close enough to reach out and touch her but I don't. If she's ever going to let me past those walls and let me see the real Megan, I need to gain her trust. 

"No one can know about this. Strictly for my tenants' piece of mind. They're old, they wouldn't understand and they would worry themselves to death."

"So what the hell happened anyway? It's not every day you find a naked chick with a stab wound to the neck and a python wrapped around her, passed out in a garage."

Her eyes find mine and she stares at me. I see her calculating what to say. It won't be the truth but she doesn't know how to twist this into some sort of accident.

"I need to rest." The glass goes to her lips and her eyes drift away from mine.

"I know you're not the type of person to rat anyone out, Megs." I grin, knowing how much she hates that nickname. I saw the hell burning in her eyes the last time I used it. "You'd never tell me how one little sexual act was taken too far, or how a boyfriend was just joking when he sliced the knife through your neck... that's ok. I can find out." I shrug and stand, taking the empty glass out of her hands and walking to refill it. 

"Thank you," she mumbles after I hand her the full glass. "You can't go to the police, Luke. My lifestyle choices in the bedroom have no business going public. There's nothing for you to find out. No one to rat out." Her eyes burrow into mine almost like she's silently trying to threaten me. "I have a very fucked up imagination when I'm solo." 

I laugh at her trying to convince me she was alone.

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall when that happens." I grin at her, trying my hardest to get through to her however I can.

So far she's been fifty percent lies and fifty percent sex on legs. 

And Jesus Christ those legs.

"I'm sure you would. Please leave."

"That's it? You were just stabbed, Megan. You can't think being alone right now is safe." I'm not leaving that easily. 

"I wasn't stabbed!" she growls. "Please. Leave," she says through gritted teeth. "I don't know what you're searching for but this is nothing like you're thinking. Accidents happen. Just go."

"Accidents like this happen? Once is enough. When he comes back are you going to be able to fight him off this time? I mean... There's no snake wrapped around you this time, but the neck wound and the back slices are leaving you pretty weak right about now. Plus those meds you just took are going to be kicking in soon. You sure you want to be alone if he comes back?" Shoving my hands in my pockets, I know I'm going to be leaving soon, but I can't help but egg her on. 

She's sexy when she's pissed. 

With a sigh, she sets the glass next to her bed. "There is no one coming back. There is no one trying to hurt me. If it makes you feel better." She gestures toward the bedroom door. "By all means, you can camp out on my front porch all night." A bitchy smile tilts her lips until a pain hits her and I almost smirk. Little bitch.