Trapped (Caged #2)(43)

“We were not trying to figure it out!” I snapped back. “You aren’t going!”

“Of course she is!” Michael said with a laugh.

“See?” Tria smiled along with him as she gestured to Carter. “And now we have the solution.”

“Tria, you have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Of course I do!” she said. “I’m going to a wedding with you.”

“It’s settled then!” Michael beamed.

“It certainly is not!”

As Michael, Tria and I argued, Carter flitted around and measured me from every angle. It was surreal and reminded me very much of comparable positions I had been in as a kid. I couldn’t even count the number of times similar people had measured, primped, and preened me for various social gatherings.

Their simple logic and general “gang up on Liam” tactics eventually wore me down.

“Fine!” I grumbled. “But I’m telling you right now, it’s going to suck!”

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at the both of them while Carter got down on his knees and measured my inseam.

Fucking hell.

Two hours later, Carter was still talking to Tria about dress designs, and I had stepped out for a smoke. Michael followed me.

“I’m glad you decided to attend,” he said.

“Decided?” I snorted. “I was coerced.”

“However it occurred, I’m still glad you will be there.”

“I’m not talking to him, Michael,” I said.

“Liam…”

“No!” I growled. “I’ll go there because I said I would, but I didn’t say anything about talking to him!”

“Your mother—”

“Or her, either!”

Michael sighed and reached up to fiddle with the silver hoops in his ear.

“You still wear them,” he remarked, nodding toward the matching set of jewelry in my own ear.

“I don’t want the holes to close up. Getting the piercings hurt like a bitch.”

“You could have bought different ones.”

“With all the extra cash I have?” I smirked. “Yeah, food and rent are a little more at the top of my list.”

Michael took a slight step back, eyed my left ear for a moment, and then gave me a half smile.

“Are you making excuses to me or yourself?”

Fucker.

I was never one to agree with Michael, but the idea of removing the earrings was abhorrent.





Chapter 12—Run the Gauntlet


“Tria, the car is here.”

I climbed back into the window and stepped over my growing pile of laundry. Tria was shoving shit into her purse—a bottle of hand lotion, an umbrella, an empty water bottle, and a cookbook, for f*ck’s sake.

“What the hell do you need all that for?” I asked, then immediately thought better of it. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. The car is out there and probably already drawing a lot of attention. We should hustle.”

“I’m ready,” she said as she tossed the bag over her arm. “Let’s go.”

The Rolls was deep black, sleek, and totally out of place, parked out in front of our dilapidated building. Tria’s eyes went wide as the dark-haired man in a suit and customary chauffeur’s hat opened the back door for us, and she slid into the seat.

“Mister Teague, may I say it is wonderful to see you again?”

“Good to see you, too, Damon,” I replied as I got in beside Tria. “This is Tria Lynn. Tria, this is Damon, Michael’s driver.”

“Hello, Damon,” she said quietly.

“A pleasure, Miss Lynn.” Damon tipped his cap to her and gave me a wink before closing the back door with a click and taking his position in the driver’s seat.

Damon pulled out into the street and headed for the highway as Tria and I settled back against the luxurious interior. I focused on her face to prevent the familiarity of the scene from bringing back memories. However, Damon was less inclined to avoid the past.

“It’s good to see you looking so well, Mister Teague,” he remarked as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “I haven’t driven you anywhere since you received your temporary driver’s license!”

“You’ve known Liam a long time?” Tria piped up.

“All his life,” Damon said with a smile. “I drove Michael to the hospital when young Liam was born.”

“What was he like as a child?” Tria asked.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake…”

Damon laughed and adjusted the mirror to see Tria better.

“Headstrong, independent, obstinate—my guess would be the same way as he is now.”

Tria snickered.

“I’ll take that as a confirmation,” Damon said. From the view in the mirror, I could see his cheeks raised in a smile.

“Nice,” I muttered.

Damon drove us to Michael’s, where Ryan’s side of the wedding party would be preparing. I continued to watch Tria’s reaction to the surroundings, especially Michael’s house, and wondered if she had ever seen places like it before. Her eyes just about popped out of her head when she took a good look at the floor in the foyer and realized it was marble.