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Rattle the Cage

Page 84

by Kylie Cross

With each step I took, the sound grew louder until I reached a dead end at the fenceline. It was unusual for her to be out in the woods at this time of day, but the small service gate swinging ajar all but confirmed her location.

Hands on my hips, I stood for a moment, trying to catch my breath as I listened to the sound. The trees obscured her, but the thumping was most certainly coming from the woods. And despite all of my bluster, my curiosity always got the best of me in the end.

Wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead, I pushed open the gate and walked out into the woods. The thumping of the ax led me a few yards beyond the treeline, where Blade sat on a tree stump. Her back was to me, and she didn’t seem to hear my approach over the thump of her ax.

Sweat dripped down her back, causing her olive tee to cling to muscle. Her back obscured my view off the cutting block, though the sight of her muscles at work wasn’t something to complain about.

She lifted the ax high and then dropped it down on the tree stump before her, sending something soft and colorful rolling off of the block and across the forest floor: a doll head. A shiver shot down my spine.

I guess I know who’s been decorating Prize Alley.

At her feet, there was a bucket full of something I couldn’t see. Future victims?

I took a step forward, craning my neck for a better view. But the snap of a twig beneath my sneaker instantly gave me away.

Blade froze in place, fingers drumming playfully against the handle of her ax. “Miss me, Trinket?”

“You wish,” I grumbled, crossing my arms as I stepped into view. I was still pissed about the trick she and Nash had pulled, though less than I wanted to be. “You know, every time I’m starting to forgive you for one thing, you do something else to piss me off.”

Blade glanced back at me with an expression that was all charm and chaos. “You know you can’t stay mad at me.”

She was right — the butterflies in my stomach attested to that eagerly — but I’d be damned if I gave into her spell that easily.

Blade reached for the bucket, fishing out another stuffy for the slaughter. “How’re you doing? Must be better since you two lovebirds made up.”

“Fuck off. I can’t stand her.” I leaned against a tree trunk, trying to fight back the blush in my cheeks. But realizing that there were cameras in the safehouse — that Blade and Nash had probably watched every second of what Cyrus did to me — certainly wasn’t helping.

Blade chuckled, a wolfish sound that drew my eye to the long line of her neck. “Sure you do. Must have been nice to hear she was sorry, though.”

I shrugged. “I mean, it didn’t hurt…”

That might have been the part I was most upset about. I didn’t want to admit that it had helped, the apology, the fucking: all of it was a release of tension that had been building in my chest unbeknownst to me for a decade.

I didn’t want to think that such a simple thing could make me let go of my resentment. And it hadn’t. Cyrus had a lot of atonement to do. But it had opened the door for something…

I just don’t know what.

Blade swung the ax down hard, taking the stuffie’s head in a single strike. “It’s the most she’s ever said that word, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Wow, how brave of her. Does she want a cookie?”

“I mean…” Blade chuckled again, tossing the stuffie’s body off into the woods.

“Oh, shut up.” I growled, refusing to meet her playful gaze.

But as my eyes ripped away from Blade, all I could see was cuddly carnage. There was no way to describe the scene as anything other than a doll massacre. There were dozens of plushie heads on the ground, and a few limbs too. Bears, princesses, little velcro monkeys: no one was safe from Blade’s stuffed animal sacrifice.

Holstering her ax, Blade spun on the stump to face me. She rested her elbows on her knees, ducking her head to intercept my gaze. “Hey. I’m the last guy who’s going to defend what she did. You don’t owe her your forgiveness. But I’d feel like kind of a dick if I didn’t tell the truth here. And the truth is, Cyrus is really trying.”

I frowned but let Blade continue. “Apologizing is hard for her, as stupid as that might be. But I can see that she wants to do better. She’s just stunted. If Heirs hadn’t fucked with her head enough, growing up out in the woods certainly did. But I can tell she’s trying. She just needs some time to figure it out.

“It’s alright if that’s not enough for you. But I want you to know before you write her off entirely that it’s not for lack of trying. She was just born kind of an asshole.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the assertion, but Blade just threw her hands up with a smirk. “It’s true! Not everyone can be as charming as I am, Trinket.”

“Oh, I’m not sure ‘charming’ is the first word I’d go with.”

Blade clutched her heart in a mockery of pain. “Jesus, aimed to kill! What would you call me then?”