Cuffed (The Untouchables MC 1)

“Home.”

Connor

“Home?”

I nodded and went to the trunk to get her bags. The girl travelled light, even with the heat I’d put on her ass to get ready fast. A small duffle with some clothes and a backpack with some books and toiletries. That was it.

A word flashed in my mind, sharp and immediately recognizable as true.

Runaway.

That must be what it was. What she was. Casey had packed fast. Like she was used to running. I looked at her in the darkness, the defensive posture, the sense of aloneness…

That was it. Everything clicked into place.

She was a runaway. And somehow, Mason had saved her.

For once in my life, I had a reason to really respect a criminal. Because he’d done right by this one girl. I slammed the trunk shut and she jumped.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

She looked up at me as I came to stand beside her. The moon was bright and I could see every inch, every graceful curve of her face.

“No one is ever really safe.”

I wanted to yank her against me and hold her. To tell her she was wrong. Even if I knew she was right.

What did safe mean anyway? Danny wasn’t safe, even with me looking after him. Danny was gone.

I clenched my jaw. Eyes on the prize, DeWitt. Solve the crime first.

Then you can decide what to do about the girl.

“Come on, let me get you settled.”

She waited outside on the porch while I turned the lights on. I showed her to the guest room on the second floor. I was down the hall from her, and closer to the stairs. That way I would hear her if she tried to sneak out.

Or if anyone tried to get in.

“Are you tired?”

She shook her head.

“I slept all day.”

I smiled a little.

“I did too.”

We went downstairs and I offered her food. She said no, but she did take a glass of water. She sat on the couch, looking like a bird about to take flight.

“Have you heard about Mason?”

“Not yet.”

She chewed on that soft, sexy bottom lip of hers. I stared at her hungrily, desperate to have a taste. She noticed the TV and perked up a bit.

“Do you have cable?”

I picked up the remote and tossed it to her.

“Knock yourself out.”

Cassandra

The man never stopped working. He was out on the porch, his voice low as he took call after call. He paced back and forth.

Every once in a while, he came in and used the laptop at the kitchen table. Then his phone would buzz and he’d leave again.

It kind of felt domestic. Like when Mason was working on his bike and I would sit outside with a book. It felt oddly… normal. Which was odd in itself.

Never mind the fact that I was on lockdown and Dante had sent me twenty-four blood soaked long-stemmed roses.

I wondered for the hundredth time why he hadn’t just killed me then and there. It would have been quick. I was short and he was tall and strong. I doubt I would have even had time to scream.

But he hadn’t. And now I pretty much had no choice but to run. Run, or squeal. Or both.

My ass was going to end up in witness protection if I was willing to talk. I needed to talk to Mason. I’d tried to keep him out of it and now it was too late.

So run from Dante and the law or witness protection. That’s if I was lucky. If I was unlucky, I’d just be dead.

I sighed and flipped the channel again. Commercials, man. I hated them. If I lived here, this show would have been taped and I could fast forward through it.

Of course as of now, I didn’t live anywhere. Mason’s place was under surveillance, by the FBI and the Raisers.

I could just disappear and save them all the trouble. I had a feeling that Mason would come after me if I did.

Never mind the Boy Scout outside.

He seemed like the type who didn’t let go of stuff too easy. Of course, I didn’t really know him. But I usually got a good sense of people, and that’s one of the things I was picking up from him.

I’d been watching TV for over an hour. I’d seen various housewives and half a show about people working at a hotel that I’d never seen before.

Basically, they were all good looking idiots.

And I freaking loved it.

I settled back into the cushions. It was a good couch. Worn in enough to be incredibly comfy. It smelled nice too. The whole place was scruffy but clean and kind of cool in an old school way.

Kind of like Connor.

He came back inside and reached into the fridge. He pulled out a beer, looked at me, and put it back.

“Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

He shrugged and pulled it out again, twisting the top off the bottle. I noticed he didn’t offer me one. Probably because I was technically underage.