Takedown Teague (Caged 1)

“Liam…” she said softly.

“Hush,” I responded. I took a last drag off my cigarette, flicked the butt across the parking lot, and got off the bike. I walked over to the asshole slowly and with purpose—my eyes right on his. Once I was chest-to-chest with him, I tilted my head slightly to one side and spoke.

“A pretty fucking confident one,” I told him.

He took a slight step back and glanced at his buddies, who seemed to be letting him deal with his own issues, sans backup. Didn’t matter to me—none of the three looked like they could take a real punch. I flinched forward slightly, balling my fists and moving like I was going to strike. He managed to fall down as he jumped back.

His buddies laughed as I got back on the bike behind Tria. Even she was snickering slightly as we placed our helmets on our heads and headed back down the highway. Moments later, my ass was numb from the vibrations again, and I was bored out of my fucking mind.

The only thing that was even remotely interesting about the ride was Tria’s position between my legs. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even enjoy that with the constant rumble of the bike, the swift wind around us, and the general uncomfortable nature of the whole thing.

About a thousand years later, we reached Portland and fueled up with what little cash we had scraped together. I honestly wasn’t sure how we were going to find the gas money to get home, but I was also a lot more interested in hitchhiking than I was in riding the bike at that point. My ass felt as if it had just gone ten rounds with a heavyweight, and Tria didn’t even seem like she was still awake as she replaced the gas nozzle on the pump.

“We need to find a place to sleep,” I told her.

“I’m good,” she mumbled. “It’s only about five more hours.”

“Bullshit,” I growled. “You don’t even look like you can walk any more, and my thighs feel like I’ve had a large vibrating vehicle between them for the past ten hours. I’m pretty sure my ass is going to fall right off if we go another hour.”

Tria reluctantly agreed, and we checked out a few of the standard motels right off the highway, but we couldn’t afford any of them. I finally had to start trying the less recognizable names in hopes that they would give me a discount, considering the lateness of the hour.

After another hour of searching, Tria wasn’t just looking like she was going to fall off the bike; she was actually starting to doze right there in the seat. There was only one last place to check at the final exit north of Portland before we were going to be out of options.

The dude at the creepy, dirty motel was less than helpful.

“We ain’t that kind of place.” He sneered at me as he spoke.

“Come on, dude,” I begged. Yes, I had gotten to that stage. None of my threats were working. “Twenty bucks for four hours—I know you aren’t full, and it’s after midnight. It’s practically free money.”

“I told ya, we don’t do that shit! Fuck the hooker behind the dumpsters at the Holiday Inn or something.”

“She ain’t a fucking hooker!” I yelled.

“Whatever.”

I stomped out, and Tria glanced up at me, eyes drooping as I returned to the side of the bike. She must have been able to tell I had struck out again.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I can keep going.”

“No,” I said, “you can’t. I didn’t come out here with you just to have you fall asleep and kill us both on the fucking road.”

“We’re kind of out of options,” she said.

“There has to be a park around here,” I said. “You could at least get a couple hours while I looked after you.”

“Hmm…” she mumbled. She didn’t even have the alertness to argue with me anymore.

I really needed to get her into a bed, but I was completely out of ideas. Growling at myself, I looked up into the sky and wondered if whatever deity was up there hated me. Without any obvious answer, I dropped my eyes again, and I saw a very familiar logo.

Fuck no.

Could I stoop that low?

High up in the sky, on what could have been the spike for the king’s banner on top of a castle, there was a huge, neon sign. On the left side sparkled a pair of silver circles as they twisted and turned within each other, creating a spinning vortex of marketing overachievement.

It sickened me.

As I glanced over at Tria, I wondered if she could even make it the few blocks up the street to get there. She wasn’t following my gaze but staring blankly at the center of one of the motorcycle’s gauges. I definitely had to get her into a bed soon. She wasn’t going to last a few more minutes.