Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 91

° In The Cage °

"Marcus gets some answers, and Erin manipulates Tara."

Friday, September 13th, 12:27 am

Fifteen minutes later found me standing in front of the elevator in the main foyer. Chloe was already there, arms crossed, eyeing me as I approached.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” Chloe replied.

She looked as tired as I felt as we waited for the elevator to arrive. It wasn’t surprising, considering everything we’d been through.

“After surviving the day that wouldn’t end, I’m surprised you wanted to come with me.”

Chloe snorted. “I was tempted to just stay in bed, but considering who it is, I didn’t want to miss out on the fun.”

“Yeah, I can’t blame you,” I admitted.

The elevator opened, and we both stepped inside. The awkward silence was so thick I could’ve cut it with a knife. As the doors shut, I looked over at her.

“Are we okay?”

“Are we?” Chloe asked, looking me dead in the eyes.

I always admired that about her—she never looked away, never flinched.

“I’m sorry, too,” I said, referring to the apology note she’d left in my study… the one Erin had mentioned.

The corner of her mouth twitched—the ghost of a smile on her lips. She didn’t say anything else. Typical Chloe.

I wanted to say more, but it didn’t feel right. That hint of a smile had been her version of anyone else screaming acceptance and forgiveness. Trying to pry anything more out of her probably would’ve just brought us right back to square one.

I wanted Chloe in my life, but that meant taking her as she was—a surly, terse soldier who’d rather face an army than talk through her feelings. So I just smiled back.

The next two minutes were quiet between us until we were standing in front of an apartment door one floor above Phoebe’s. I knocked.

The door opened just enough to show Henry Psalter standing there, looking at me with an expression that suggested he could just as easily kill me as shake my hand. He looked me up and down through the three-inch gap in the doorway, then stepped aside, opening it wide enough to let me in.

“Where is he?” I asked as Chloe and I stepped into the room.

“In the dining room,” Henry said as he shut the door behind us. The tone of his voice made it sound as if it were just another quiet evening at home.

He didn’t waste any time leading us through a nice, spacious kitchen, an arched doorway, and into a respectably sized breakfast/dining room. Chloe and I passed several of Psalter’s men as we followed in his wake. I noticed one of them holding a collection of zip ties.

As soon as we stepped into the living room, I saw him.

“Mr. Upton,” Psalter said, gesturing to the small man sitting at a table in front of an empty plate. “I believe you’ve met Ryo Tanaka.”

He looked small.

I mean, Ryo Tanaka had seemed small before, but this was different. Back in Norway, his stature made me think of a tiny dog—not typically deadly except in the right circumstances. While he had hostages and a gun in my face, it felt like that small dog had its teeth around my throat.

Now, he just looked frail… like the little alien inside that robot mustache guy in the first Men in Black movie.

He was sitting at a small four-person table that held a single empty plate with a dusting of crumbs and a half-empty glass of water. It made sense that he’d be hungry… I can’t imagine Psalter provided in-flight snacks.

“What did you feed him?” I asked as I took the seat across the table from our captive. He simply stared back at me in sullen silence.

“Your maid brought it. Jenny?”

“Jessica,” I corrected.

“She brought a chicken sandwich—one for him as well as some for the men. They were quite good. Compliments to the chef.”

“Thanks. I’ll pass it along,” I said.

I studied Ryo for a few moments and then said, “How was the flight?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m afraid he skipped that part. He only woke up thirty minutes before I texted you. Benzodiazepine… one hell of a drug. Especially if it’s being administered as a constant drip.”

I could see that now. He looked about five times rougher than I did when I woke up. I hadn’t been able to immediately tell because of the bruising along the left side of his face.

“Sounds kind of nice,” I said. “I’m still catching up on the sleep I lost while you were hunting me.”

Ryo stayed quiet.

“Fuck, Ryo!” I said, exasperated. “This isn’t going to be satisfying if you don’t talk!”

Before anyone could even register her movements, Chloe stomped over to Ryo and hit him. It wasn’t an open-handed slap. It was a punch aimed so perfectly that the skin at his cheekbone split, adding another injury to his already pummeled face. It drove his head to the side, and blood spattered across the floor.

“Ah! No! I’ll tell you what you want! Please! Don’t hit me!”

His arms were raised in a defensive posture, and his eyes remained closed as he cringed away from my bodyguard. It didn’t stop Chloe; she grabbed his wrist in some kind of fancy hold and twisted it in a way that had Ryo leaning back into his chair, facing her as he let out a strangled gasp.

It left his face wide open for another punch—a firm jab to the nose accompanied by a loud crunch.