Page 23 of Beyond the Cage
“Come on in. Chels can keep you company.”
I leave the two of them in the living room and hop into the shower, wondering where I’m going. It occurs to me he’s never actually taken me out. What a cheap date I’ve been.Well, that’s going to change.As I’m blow-drying my hair, I think about what to wear. My mom always told me, ‘When in doubt, black jeans and a nice top’. Guess that’s what it’ll be. After applying makeup, I grab a pair of jeans and a white button-down, top.Shoes…hmmm…I think I’ll go with my black, wedge sandals. I change purses then check my reflection in the mirror. Perfect. Just a little perfume and I’m good to go.
Jared stands as I walk into the living room.
“I’m ready,” I announce. “Let’s go.”
“Have fun, Jas. I won’t wait up.” Chels winks at me.
I roll my eyes. “Later, Chels.”
Downstairs, Jared leads me to a black Porsche Cayenne Turbo S. I love it! My kind of wheels.
“Nice wheels.”
“Thanks, but it’s the boss’ ride.”
Mr. Jackson has good taste.
“So, what’s your job title?” I ask once we start driving.
“Head of security.”
“Security? You’re kidding, right?”
He chuckles. “I’m not his bodyguard. My job is mostly logistics. I also make sure his surroundings are safe. Check venues, hotel rooms…keep crazy people and groupies away from him…stuff like that.”
Groupies…ugh. “How long have you worked with him?”
“Two years.”
“And this is a part of your job description? Picking up…”—I shudder—“his women?”
“You’re actually the first one who’s made it past the dressing room.”
“Eww…that’s nasty.”
His body shakes with laughter. “I must say I wasn’t surprised when you walked out. You and your friend stuck out like a sore thumb. I knew just by looking at you that you weren’t like the others.”
“You mean a skank groupie?”
He laughs again. “Something like that. But…obviously he saw it, too.”
I should hope so!
We pull up to a huge building with no signs. I remain in my seat because this can’t possibly be our destination. It looks like a warehouse. When Jared opens my door, I fix him with an incredulous stare.
“This is it?” I ask as I climb out of the car.
“You’ll see once you’re inside,” he assures me.
He opens the door and I step in, hearing a man bellowing instructions and the sounds of fighting.
“C’mon! You keep doing that you’re gonna get killed! Watch him, kid…learn from him!” the voice shouts.
I turn the corner and find that it’s actually a gym. Various equipment—some I know, others I don’t—are scattered around the room. In the middle, there’s a huge boxing ring. Cameron is in it, fighting some other guy, and the one shouting is standing by one of the corners. I’m guessing he’s the trainer. He’s older, with grey, thinning hair and a huge belly. What kind of trainer is he? He certainly doesn’t look like one.
Cameron stops and turns in my direction, a smile instantly on his lips. I return it, wiggling my fingers at him.
