Page 8 of Cultivating Caden
Chapter 3
Exhaustion weighed heavilyon Caden’s limbs. He’d fought against the smarmy bastard, Quade, who assured him he wasn’t a prisoner—he just couldn’t leave. Ever. And the bastard had the nerve to grin after Caden had sucker punched him. He stood up, tapped his chin, and dared Caden to hit him again. And again. And again.
Finally it sunk in. He wasn’t doing any damage, and the first shot that had knocked Quade on his ass was just lucky. Quade’s face showed barely a mark. Caden’s knuckles, on the other hand, were bruised and hurt like a bitch.
“Let me know if you need a break.”
Sanctimonious asshole. Caden wasn’t stupid. He knew he wasn’t about to win in a fight, so he took the next best course of action. He gave up. The time would come when he’d do his best to escape.
“And I know what you’re thinking, but I can assure you, after a few months, you’re not going to want to leave.”
Well, fuck him. He flipped Quade off, which only brought a snort from him. Now, here he was, being frog-marched down a long corridor, with doors on either side. It seemed more like an office building than anything else.
“Where are you taking me?”
Quade sighed. “For the millionth time, I’m escorting you to your room so you can get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll have your orientation. They’ll find you a job so you can become a productive member of society.”
Caden slammed on the brakes and spun to face Quade. “Fuck you. I’m already a productive member of society. I worked damn hard to get where I am today.”
Quade gave that cocky grin. If Caden’s hands weren’t already hurting like hell, he’d try again to punch him.
“Okay, tell me what you do.”
“I own the best florist shop in Millinocket.”
Thinking that it might sound at least a little impressive, he wasn’t ready for Quade to snicker.
“A florist. Why does that not surprise me? And the best one in a town of four thousand people. Truly, that’s impressive. The competition must be staggering.”
Thatsmarmy attitude pissed Caden off again. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I’d explain it to you, but I think you’ve already had a hard day.” His grin faded. “Tomorrow you’ll also have the chance to speak to someone about what happened.” He put a hand on Caden’s shoulder. “I know you’re not ready to hear me yet, but Iamsorry. None of this is your fault, and it sucks that it happened, but we’re keeping you here for your own protection, as well as anyone you might come in contact with.”
Fear jolted through Caden. “Am I sick? Contagious?”
“No, nothing like that.” Quade narrowed his gaze. “We can talk about it tomorrow. Try to get some rest.”
Opening the door, he gestured, allowing Caden to enter. As soon as he did, Quade closed the door, which was followed by the sound of a lock engaging. This sucked on so many levels. One thing Quade was right about: Caden was exhausted. The adrenaline he’d been running on had long since evaporated, and now his body protested every move he made. He took a quick look around the room. For a prison cell, it was nicely appointed. Faux black leather furniture stood out against the snow-white carpeting. Stroking his fingers over the wall, Caden was surprised to find that what he thought was wood was instead some kind of stone. Windows set every six feet apart showed off the pinks and purples of sunset. The view was breathtaking. Except….
Quade had said they were under the mountain, so how could there be a sunset?
He reached out and touched the glass, only to have the image shimmer. It was a projection, something to make it seem like there was a view. He stood watching as the image continued to evolve. Clouds floated lazily as the sky darkened to deep purple, then faded to a velvet black with an expanse of twinkling stars. It was ingenious.
But it was still a prison. It was stillhisprison.
Stripping off his clothes, Caden strode into another room, pleased to find it was a bathroom. Lifting his arm, he sniffed his pit and winced. That wouldn’t do. He turned on the shower, a large, glassed-in cube, and was surprised when hot water came on immediately. He stepped beneath the spray and groaned as the jets beat down on his sore, aching body.
It was then he realized. He should be a lot more broken up than he was. The biker had kicked him in the face, and Caden was certain he’d shattered bones. He jumped out of the shower, nearly slipping on the floor, and peered into the mirror, stroking his fingers over the skin.
“What the fuck?”
He could see the marks from where they’d beat him, but they seemed weeks old. Just a blush of yellow and purple marred his cheek. That wasn’t possible. Then again, neither was someone who called himself a lycan. If Caden hadn’t seen Quade with his own eyes, he would have sworn the man was insane. But there wasn’t any doubting what he’d witnessed in the woods. Quade was some kind of inhuman beast.
Who didn’t kill you. Remember that.
Caden snorted.Maybe, but he’s still a jerk.
Drying off, Caden moved into the other room again. Maybe tomorrow he’d feel more like exploring his prison, but for now, he needed to sleep in the worst possible way.
