Cage (14 page)

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Chapter 17 – Saffron

Pensacola, Present Day

Sawyer had probably thought that he was being clever all that week. He
had made no mention of the coming fight, or of any identifying details on where
it might be – although I had already figured these details out, as I
mentioned before. That’s why, when the night came, I lazily enjoyed some food
in front of the television as he nonchalantly pretended that he wasn’t about to
wander out in the city and knock somebody’s teeth in while an audience cheered.

He still clearly trained for it – and even
still insisted on doing it at home. While we were slightly awkward around each
other, after the erection incident, I didn’t shy away from swimming outside
while he trained. I didn’t watch him as much, and he didn’t look over at me as
often, but we continued our unspoken companionship. I liked to think of it as
some sort of support, maybe. Perhaps he didn’t even really notice.

It was clear to me that he was growing tenser at the night approached.
He neither trained the day before, nor the day of – obviously letting his
body rest for the coming match. However, he was on edge the whole day,
aimlessly wandering around the house but unwilling to leave or talk to me about
it.

“You seem frustrated,” I observed casually, reading a magazine on the
couch. “You want me to help with that?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, ignoring my tease.

“You don’t
look
fine.”

“Your nose is buried in a fashion mag.”

“You don’t
sound
fine.”

“Shut up.”

I shot him a filthy look – he stopped, looking apologetic.

“I’m sorry. There’s just a lot on your mind.”

I closed the magazine, hiding a smile. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I can’t talk about it.”

“Sure you can.” I leaned up, grasping onto the top of the couch as I
peered impishly over it. He was wandering around the foyer nearby, and he
glanced briefly in my direction.

“That’s a good look for you,” he observed.

“Huh?” I directed my attention to my mess of hair, batting at it a
little. “Why do you think so?”

“It’s cute. Natural.”

“
Riiiiight
,” I chuckled,
blowing a few strands out of my face. “You’re just distracted.”

“Yeah…I guess so.”

“Why don’t you go relax, huh? Pool’s probably warm.”

“I don’t have time,” he muttered, glancing up at the clock.

“Sure you do. It’s not even –”

Oh crap. How did it get so
late?

“Well then,” I improvised. “Why not just go out for a ride or something?
Feel the breeze on your hair, you know. Stuff like that. Why pace around when
you can just get out some steam on your motorcycle? You’re a big, tough
motorcycle guy, right? Go do motorcycle junk.”

He looked at me with an odd expression on his face.

Oh shit, did I say too much?

“Yeah…that’s actually not a bad idea,” he thought aloud. “But I might be
gone for a few hours. Lots of road, lots of stress to burn…”

“You go do that. I’ll be fine.”

He turned towards the stairs to the upper landing, then stopped and
turned. “What are
you
going to do,
Saffie?”

“I dunno!” I shrugged, still kneeling on the couch and watching him over
the back. “I was reading earlier, might pick that back up. There’s also
Netflix. Might go out to a club again–”

“To a
what?
” He suddenly
looked furious, taking a few steps towards me.

“To a…club…look, you weren’t
here
,
remember? I had to do
something
to
keep myself entertained while you were still being your asshole self…”

I cowered down, afraid that he was going to lash out at me again. He
staggered towards me in a blind rage.

“Saffron.”

“Y…yes?”

He glowered down at me, but his expression changed subtly. It was just
enough for me to straighten my back, looking up at him meekly.

“I’m your stepbrother. I’m
responsible
for you. You know you’re not supposed to leave this house… And besides
that… I’m not going to let another man touch you, understand?”

“No, actually…that’s sort of my decision, right?”

“No it’s not. Not now.” He growled. It became clear to me that he was
holding back the majority of his anger, but he was still fuming down at me.

Oh, great. Now the cage-fighting
brother is going to do the whole overprotective “I’m a big, tough guy, and I’ll
beat the shit out of anyone who touches my sister” act.

It was kind of a turn-on.

“Well…I can’t promise anything.”

“Yes you can.”

“Okay, what then? We’ll see if I’ll play along.”

It was dangerous to push his buttons while he was mad…but I enjoyed it.
I’d grown to delight in being on this side of our little rivalry, or whatever
the fuck I’d call his cocky arrogance.

“You will promise me that you won’t go out to one of those clubs, bars,
any of that alone. Understood? You’re safe here. I don’t know if you’re safe
out there. And if something
does
happen
to you…”

I thought about winding him up, but he was being so sincerely furious
about this…and it was a reasonable request.

“I promise.”

“You promise
what
.”

I sighed. “I promise that I won’t go to a club or bar without company,
and that if something happens to me, I’ll tell you anything.”

Sawyer hovered, staring down at me, before his shoulders began to sag. “Good,”
he muttered. “I don’t need to worry about you getting yourself into any
trouble, on top of everything else I have to deal with…but for what it’s
worth…I’m sorry.”

I was confused. “What are you sorry about?”

“I shouldn’t have been so inaccessible,” he confessed. “I should have
been around more, able to handle…”

He let the thought wander.

I glanced over at the clock again. “You’d better get going, Sawyer.
You’re going to be late for your…drive. I mean, why not go ahead and get it out
of your system now?”

My stepbrother looked at me oddly again, wondering what I knew, and then
followed my gaze to the clock. “Shit, you’re right,” he replied. “I mean, why
not? Why wait. I’d better get going now.”

“You’ve got it,” I nodded, feeling for my smartphone in my pajama
pocket. It felt reassuring under my fingertips – a breach, yes, but a
constant connection to him. “I’ll just sit back here and relax. You go have
fun. Do whatever you have to.”

“Right…” he murmured, shaking his head. He disappeared upstairs, then
back down with a duffle bag and his motorcycle helmet. After opening the door,
he hesitated, turning towards me.

“Listen, Saffron…”

Buried in a Netflix queue, I turned over my shoulder. He sounded
concerned, and that briefly worried me. “Yeah? What is it?”

“I just want you to know…” he paused, fumbling for words. “I have always
enjoyed being around you. If I’ve never told you…I’m happy to have you as part
of my family.”

I smiled wide. “You haven’t…and now that you treat me a little better, I
can say the same for you. Good luck.”

He nodded, reflecting on the last part of what I’d said. It didn’t take
much to see the cogs spin in his head, reaching the right conclusion. I halfway
expected him to grow furious again; he’d drop his things and fly back across
the room, demanding that I promise I wouldn’t try to go visit him during the
fight. It’d turn into a fight, or maybe I’d just lie and tell him I wouldn’t
go.

Instead, he glanced at me knowingly and nodded.

“I don’t need luck. I’m ready for this.”

“Knock ‘em dead, Sawyer.”

He flashed me a grin, and closed the door behind himself. I followed him
from the couch with my smartphone, watching the signal stop at
New Horizons
, and checked my email for
the pre-purchased anonymous ticket. That was harder since Dad took away my
credit cards. I had to use an old paypal account. The site had loaded poorly on
my phone – I’d just bought the ticket for the only fight that was shown
for the night, even without getting to see any of the major details.

With everything fallen into place, the only thing to do was to place a
beacon for a driver to arrive. I took the opportunity to change, and waited
impatiently outside until the driver arrived – a bearded hipster with
black-rimmed glasses.

“New Horizons,” I told him. “Do you know the place?”

“Hell yeah! You’re going to go check out the fight? Now’s the time…that
thing’s gonna start in about thirty minutes!”

I smiled mischievously as I climbed into the passenger seat. “You’re
damned right I am. Think you can get me there before it starts?”

“You got it.”

We kicked it into gear and drove around the late Saturday night traffic,
caught at a few more red lights than I would have liked. But he still made it
there in reasonable time, and I checked the time on my phone.

Crap. The fight’s already
starting.

I showed my ticket to the guy at the door. Curtains had been hung along
the glass, hiding the interior from sight, although I could already hear some
cheering through the walls.

“We’re just locking up, little miss. You’re lucky you’re here now.”

“Sorry, traffic was a nightmare…”

“Better run along inside. The crowd’s rough tonight.”

“Is it?” I peered into the gym as he held the door open. He was right
– it was a complete mess, a massive wave of beer-soaked spectators, angling
for a show. I could see that there were already three people in the ring
– Saywer, whomever his opponent was, and what looked like a referee.
“Dammit, I come all this way and I’m not going to get a good spot…”

“Well, that’s why I encourage you arrive
earlier
,” the doorman told me firmly. “Hell, we had people here two
hours ago.”

“But I’m his sister!” I muttered. “Is there, like, a VIP section or
something?”

“Hold on, you’re Bonesaw’s
sister?
”
He looked over at the ring, then back to me, and then back again. “You don’t
really look like him all that much…I mean, I
guess
there’s a bit of a–”

“Stepsister,” I corrected myself. “He might not have mentioned me,
actually…”

“Well…it’s true that you’re going to have a terrible spot, no matter
what. And these guys are taller than you…you might as well not even be here,
unless you plan on hanging out way back here.” He looked around outside, then
ushered me in, locking the door behind himself. “Look, the owner’s up front
with the lead trainer. They’re sweet on cute little things like you. Let’s see
if we can get you a decent spot.”

“Oh my god, seriously? You are my best freaking friend right now.”

“Eh, don’t mention it,” he chuckled. “I’m not promising you anything,
though. Come with me – stay close. These guys are rowdy.”

The doorman personally escorted me through the throng. He was a bigger
guy himself – not quite bodybuilder level, but tall and broad, capable of
forcing himself through the mob. He held me by the arm as we pushed through,
gently guiding me and keeping me close.