Free Caged by D. H. Sidebottom

into the side of my hair and bunched it in his fist. A whimper ripped from me, but it wasn’t in fear.
    He secured me in place in every possible way. His tight hold, his fierce glare, his press against me, each one held a piece of me in the palm of his hand. I couldn’t move. And I didn’t want to.
    “Kloe.” The roughness with which he said my name sent a shiver up my spine.
    His face came closer, the tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from my own. His breath caressed my lips as he very softly rested his forehead on mine. I was locked in the brilliance of his eyes, in the raging emotion that he couldn’t get a handle on.
    “It’s no rope. There are finger marks.” As if to prove his point he placed his free hand across my throat and pressed his fingertips into each burst of blue circles. “Finger – marks, Kloe Grant.”
    I wanted to squeeze my eyes closed, hide from him, but I couldn’t. He could see me whether my eyes were open or closed. “It’s…” I had to suck on my tongue to wet my mouth enough to speak. “Just… some scumbag after my bag. But I’m okay.”
    He narrowed his eyes on me. His grip was still in my hair, his forehead still pressed to mine but his heavy breathing became even deeper, a softer growl making me gulp. He could see my lie; he could read it. Something dangerous glinted in his eyes and my knees buckled, my legs giving way underneath me. Anderson moved quickly, his arms coming around me before I hit the floor and he scooped me into his chest.
    Carrying me quickly and effortlessly across the room, he then lowered me onto his bed. Confusion and concern erased the terrifying look that had crossed his face seconds ago.
    He sat beside me, his eyes hard on me. “Did they hurt you?” His eyes dropped back to my neck. “Any more?”
    “No.” I shook my head quickly and took his hand into mine. “Honestly. It’s nothing. I bruise easily. I’m fine.”
    I flinched when he brought his hand to my face. He growled yet again, thinking my fear was directed towards him. But it wasn’t. Softly he traced the pad of his thumb over my right eye, and then over my left. His face was intense but his gaze had softened. “These,” he spoke softly. “Your eyes tell me you’re not fine. They show me you’re hurting. And not because of these,” he added as he yet again traced the edge of the bruises decorating my otherwise pale skin. Then his hand moved down, over my neck and came to rest between my breasts. “Here,” he whispered. “In your heart.” The touch of him, his soft fingers against my chest made my breath hitch. His eyes blazed when he caught the shift in my heartbeat.
    “I…”
    “Don’t lie, Kloe. Not to me. For so many years all I had were my senses, my instincts. They taught me many things and I came to learn to trust them.”
    I nodded. It was useless lying to him. I knew it was. But I still couldn’t give him the truth.
    We both jolted when a small knock came to the door. Anderson jumped upright, stepping away from me when Paula, my colleague, strolled in casually. The look on her face told me she’d witnessed the last few minutes through the small window to Anderson’s room.
    She looked at me with caution in her eyes. “Boss wants you.”
    My body tensed and I gritted my teeth when my hands started to shake as anxiety shot through me. Nodding, a little too wildly, I clambered off the bed and turned to Anderson. “I won’t be long.”
    He stared at me with a small crease on his forehead as he studied me, but he nodded. “Yeah.”
    Snatching up my bag I gave him a forced smile and followed Paula out.
    Rounding the corner of the corridor, she halted and grabbed my wrist. “What the fuck are you doing, Kloe?”
    “What?”
    “Don’t what me. You know damn well what I mean. What the hell was that in there?”
    “I don’t…”
    “He’s dangerous,” she warned, not waiting for me to give her another lie. “Dangerous. He doesn’t understand his emotions