Read Online The Bureau (A Cage for Men and Wolves Book 1) by Michelle Kay - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Kay
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about to remove them. Instead she went for her knife, intending to cut the disgusting tee-shirt off. But as she unfolded the blade, something changed in Elliot's expression. Maybe using the weapon she'd threatened his life with wasn't the best choice, because he panicked.
One kick to her solar plexus had Clover on the floor, her mouth open like a dying fish. Her stomach still convulsing, she rolled to her side, catching Elliot's ankle as he made for the door. The floor shook with the force of his un-broken fall. The struggle that followed was weak as Elliot tried to shove Clover away with his legs, both of them bruised and tired from the day before. Once Clover managed to straddle his chest, safe from his inflexible legs, she gained the upper hand. Then her blade was at his throat again.
"Stop!" Her scream was warbled by the muscles still jumping in her abdomen as the edge of her knife drew a small line of blood just below Elliot’s Adam's apple.
They both went still, both trying to catch their breath as they scowled at each other. Clover wanted to slap the defiant expression from his face, shake him and make him realize that he'd lost. She knew she was lying, but he didn't, and his attitude was infuriating.
"Do you not get it?" Her voice was steadier this time, and she refused to move off of him. "It doesn't matter if you get away from me, because I've already ruined your life. It's in your blood already, and the only way to fix it is to do what I tell you."
She was impressed with the ferocity of her own lies, almost believing them herself. She needed him to give up the hope he was still hanging onto—he had to be obedient. The heat in his eyes cooled, but didn't disappear. Instead, the muscles under her relaxed and his head tilted back like a dog exposing his vulnerable spots. Clover took a few more breaths before getting up, hooking his arm with both hands and pulling him to his feet. She drug him back to his bed and forced him to sit down.
"I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" She didn't sound very convincing, and really, why would anyone in his position believe her.
"You pulled a knife on me."
"I was gonna cut your shirt off so I could clean you, you ungrateful ass." Her face heated when she said it out loud. "But if you really wanna keep it on, then I won't. Open your mouth." She stuffed the hem of his shirt past his teeth. She wanted it out of her way while she cleaned the crusty puncture at his side. She also wanted him to shut up.
Her body still shook from the high of fighting, her stomach complaining as she continued to catch her breath. The silence was a relief, though she could tell that Elliot still had more to say. His chest worked to catch up as well, and she could feel a tiny tremor in him as she worked.
The first time she'd touched him on the stairs' landing she'd been struck by how firm his body was. Given his prim appearance in the photo, she'd expected him to be frail, but he wasn't. He wasn't wide and thick like her father or Byron, their pack leader, but he was well-built—solid.
"Ow!" Elliot jerked as she pushed on his wound too hard.
"Shut up." She stuffed the shirt back into his mouth, embarrassed that her attention to his body had distracted her. "First you're stronger than I expected, now you're whinier."
He growled into the cotton, but held still, seeming uninterested in another fight now that a new bloodstain was growing around the collar of his shirt.
"Look," she began, trying to use the passive voice that seemed to work on him in the kitchen, "I'm really not interested in killing you, alright? Or having you captured and tortured. I'm not a monster. All I want is a chance to get inside the Bureau where you hold prisoners. My family's in there somewhere, and I just want them back." She thought she'd done a good job at sounding gentle.
They both stayed silent as the small hole at Elliot's side was cleaned and covered with an adhesive bandage. Figuring he needed time to consider his
One kick to her solar plexus had Clover on the floor, her mouth open like a dying fish. Her stomach still convulsing, she rolled to her side, catching Elliot's ankle as he made for the door. The floor shook with the force of his un-broken fall. The struggle that followed was weak as Elliot tried to shove Clover away with his legs, both of them bruised and tired from the day before. Once Clover managed to straddle his chest, safe from his inflexible legs, she gained the upper hand. Then her blade was at his throat again.
"Stop!" Her scream was warbled by the muscles still jumping in her abdomen as the edge of her knife drew a small line of blood just below Elliot’s Adam's apple.
They both went still, both trying to catch their breath as they scowled at each other. Clover wanted to slap the defiant expression from his face, shake him and make him realize that he'd lost. She knew she was lying, but he didn't, and his attitude was infuriating.
"Do you not get it?" Her voice was steadier this time, and she refused to move off of him. "It doesn't matter if you get away from me, because I've already ruined your life. It's in your blood already, and the only way to fix it is to do what I tell you."
She was impressed with the ferocity of her own lies, almost believing them herself. She needed him to give up the hope he was still hanging onto—he had to be obedient. The heat in his eyes cooled, but didn't disappear. Instead, the muscles under her relaxed and his head tilted back like a dog exposing his vulnerable spots. Clover took a few more breaths before getting up, hooking his arm with both hands and pulling him to his feet. She drug him back to his bed and forced him to sit down.
"I'm not going to hurt you, alright?" She didn't sound very convincing, and really, why would anyone in his position believe her.
"You pulled a knife on me."
"I was gonna cut your shirt off so I could clean you, you ungrateful ass." Her face heated when she said it out loud. "But if you really wanna keep it on, then I won't. Open your mouth." She stuffed the hem of his shirt past his teeth. She wanted it out of her way while she cleaned the crusty puncture at his side. She also wanted him to shut up.
Her body still shook from the high of fighting, her stomach complaining as she continued to catch her breath. The silence was a relief, though she could tell that Elliot still had more to say. His chest worked to catch up as well, and she could feel a tiny tremor in him as she worked.
The first time she'd touched him on the stairs' landing she'd been struck by how firm his body was. Given his prim appearance in the photo, she'd expected him to be frail, but he wasn't. He wasn't wide and thick like her father or Byron, their pack leader, but he was well-built—solid.
"Ow!" Elliot jerked as she pushed on his wound too hard.
"Shut up." She stuffed the shirt back into his mouth, embarrassed that her attention to his body had distracted her. "First you're stronger than I expected, now you're whinier."
He growled into the cotton, but held still, seeming uninterested in another fight now that a new bloodstain was growing around the collar of his shirt.
"Look," she began, trying to use the passive voice that seemed to work on him in the kitchen, "I'm really not interested in killing you, alright? Or having you captured and tortured. I'm not a monster. All I want is a chance to get inside the Bureau where you hold prisoners. My family's in there somewhere, and I just want them back." She thought she'd done a good job at sounding gentle.
They both stayed silent as the small hole at Elliot's side was cleaned and covered with an adhesive bandage. Figuring he needed time to consider his
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