Caged (The Defiant Kings Book 1)
Caged: Chapter 6

“Mads . . . If you actually want to see the band perform tonight, we’ve got to go,” I yell from the bottom of the steps.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Yeah . . . sure she will.

I check my phone again and see another warning from Cade. He’s pissed.

I worked with the physical therapist from Crucible this afternoon, and it felt good. He said I’m fine to get back into the gym on Monday, and that I can ditch the crutches now. But he wants me taking it easy tonight and tomorrow.

Cade wasn’t thrilled that my version of taking it easy was a night at Kingdom.

Oh, ye of little faith.

Like I’m an asshole kid who’s gonna get drunk, get in a fight, and snort a line of coke off a hooker’s tits or something. I’ve got more discipline on any given night than most people will ever hope to have. Does that mean that I miss out on some of the fun?

So. Fucking. What.

It’s what I need to do to get what I want.

And what I want is to be the best this sport has ever seen.

If it means I go to bed at the same damn time every night, eat bland chicken and steamed vegetables every day, and treat my body like the temple it is, bring it on. If not, I wouldn’t be here with multiple championship titles already behind me.

One week away from my next one.

Hell, at this rate, it might not even matter because I’m not sure we’re actually making it to the bar tonight. Maddie’s been getting ready for over an hour.

I wouldn’t even be going if it weren’t for her.

But she seemed so damn excited about seeing the band, and for some reason the idea of her going without me left a nasty taste in my mouth.

I grab my keys from the table in the hall, then turn when I hear heels tapping against the hardwood stairs.

“Damn,” I breathe out, surprised I’ve got any breath left.

Maddie’s freckles dance against the pretty pink flush that moves up her cheeks. “Is that a good damn?” she asks, before she spins in a circle, showing off her dress from all angles.

And not a single angle disappoints. It’s a dark-blue, silky thing that kind of clings to her body without being skintight. It dips down in the front, showcasing a mouthwatering tease of her chest, with a bit of extra fabric that’s held together by tiny straps tied around her neck and trailing down her bare back.

There’s no way she’s wearing a bra, and I don’t see even a hint of a panty line on her barely covered ass.

Ho-ly. Fuck. She’s trying to kill me.

“It’s an excellent damn, Mads.” I clear my throat and grab my coat from the back of a chair. “Where’s your coat?”

She places her phone inside a small purse and closes it with a smile. “No coat.”

“It’s twenty-two degrees outside, Madison.” I stare at her, waiting for her to grab something, but she doesn’t move.

“I don’t have one here, Hudson. I only have a sweatshirt, and I’m not wearing that. I’ll be fine. Plus, I’m pretty sure we won’t be waiting outside in a line at your brother’s bar.” She takes a few steps toward the front door, then looks over her shoulder and bats her lashes. “Are you coming?”

It’s pretty fucking hard to think straight when every last ounce of blood has left my brain and gone to my dick, so I silently drape my peacoat over her shoulders as we walk to the car.

Once I open her door, she sits down in the seat and crosses her legs. That damn dress barely covers her ass and rides all the way up her thigh, causing my brain to short-circuit. “Thanks, Hud.”

I raise my eyes to hers and fight unbelievably hard to not stare at her firm nipples pressing against the silk of her dress.

Fuck me. That’s one fight I’m happy to lose.

When Sawyer bought Kingdom a few years ago, he threw everything he had into it. We all knew it would be a success, but none of us had any idea how successful it would become. The converted old warehouse takes up an entire block of cobblestone streets in Old City, Philadelphia.

There’s a line wrapped around the building on any given night, full of people waiting to get inside to hear a band, have a drink, and enjoy the cool industrial vibe happening. Luckily for us, he’s also got a VIP section, complete with restricted access and a private bar sitting at the top of a black metal staircase, overlooking the dance floor and stage below.

That’s where we’re hanging tonight. Becket and I have claimed the corner table, while Cooper dances with the girls downstairs. Max is home with his very pregnant wife, and Jace is approaching us now, late, as usual. The only thing that little shit’s ever on time for is hockey practice.

“Hey, bitch-ass. How are you feeling?” He drops down into an empty seat and grabs Becks’s beer.

Becks gives him a What the fuck? look. “Bitch-ass? That’s the best you can do? You’re a hockey player, brother. Shouldn’t your smack-talk be better than that? You better up your game before you go pro.”

I glare at our youngest brother. “Who you calling bitch-ass, you little spanker? Even hurt, I can still take you.”

Jace lifts his arm to show off his muscles, then smiles. “You wish you had guns like these.”

“Jesus Christ. You gonna whip your dick out next, asshole?” Sawyer stands behind him, then passes out another round of beer. “Put that shit away before Hudson sends you back to school, crying to your coach.”

Sawyer has been coming and going as he deals with whatever the hell he’s dealing with downstairs. The place is a madhouse since word leaked that Six Day War was doing a surprise set tonight. Imogen’s band, Sinners & Saints, did their normal set earlier, and the crowd’s getting anxious, waiting for the main event. “Where’s your girl, Becks?”

“Shh,” Jace groans. “Don’t ask about the dragon queen.”

“Don’t insult the dragons.” Sawyer drops down into the seat next to me, then laughs when Becks flips him off.

Becket has been with his girl longer than any of us thought it would last, and not a single one of us can figure out why.

“What’s caught your eye, Hud?” Sawyer watches me closely, then looks over the open railing of the VIP section—down to the dance floor below as the band talks to everyone between songs—then settles back in his chair. “Oh, I’ve got you. It’s not a what, but a who.”

There’s no way to miss who has my attention.

Maddie stands dead-center in front of the stage, with a light shining above her, giving her a golden glow. Cooper, Carys, and Chloe are all there with her as they cheer on the band.

But damn . . . It’s her. She’s fucking incredible.

“How are things going with Maddie?” Becks asks, happy to have the attention off him for a minute.

“Yeah, Hud. How are things going with the little yoga teacher?” Jace lifts his beer to his lips with a fucking smirk I want to knock right off his face.

“Shut the fuck up, jackoff. She’s got a name, and nothing’s going on.”

Jace raises his hands in fake surrender. “Hey, you just seem upset for a guy who’s not interested in the girl. So you wouldn’t care if I go down and dance with her for a while, right?”

He stands before Becks shoves the chair into the back of Jace’s knees, knocking him forward. “Knock it off, kid. Don’t be a dick.”

Jace ignores Becks and pushes back, then flips him off. “I’m getting another beer. Anybody need anything?”

Nobody does, and we all watch him cross the space to the bar before Becks turns back to Sawyer and me. “That’s his third beer. What’s going on with him? He hasn’t been here that long. Does he seem like he’s in a shit mood to you?”

I shrug. “Leave him alone. It’s the end of the semester. He’s probably got finals happening, and I know he and Max have been arguing about him entering the draft.”

“I swear to God, I’m never having kids.” Becks squirms.

Sawyer and I both laugh.

“Both of you can fuck off.”

Sawyer stands back up. “Listen, I’ve gotta get back downstairs, but I meant to tell you Spider Reynolds is downstairs with his entourage.”

“The guy with the serious hard-on for you? I saw him talking shit on the sports channel the other day,” Becks adds.

“Yeah. We all have. The dick wants a fight, but he hasn’t fucking earned it. I don’t give them away. You wanna fight me—get in line and pay your dues.” We might all have to fight each other in the cage, but most of us shake hands afterward. There’s a respect there for the sport and for each other. But this douche has neither.

Sawyer looks down at the stage then back at me. “Yeah well, it looks like he’s made his way to your girl.”

That gets my attention. I push up from the table and look down at Maddie. Sure as shit, this asshole has managed to move himself next to Coop and the girls.

Fuck this.

Maddie

Chloe and I scream as Jack Madden, Six Day War’s lead guitarist and Carys’s former roommate, pulls her up on stage to perform a song she helped write, while Cooper looks on with pride beaming in his eyes.

“She’s incredible,” I tell him as Carys lights up the stage.

Cooper never takes his eyes off his wife. “She really is.”

Chloe grabs my hand and pulls me toward her to dance when we’re jostled by a group of guys next to us. “Oh my gosh . . . sorry,” I tell them as she spins me into the group.

A gorgeous man with dark hair and darker eyes catches me with a big hand on my hip and a predatory smile on his face. I back away automatically, and his grin grows. “Now, where’re you going, pretty girl? The fun’s just getting started.”

Cooper moves between us and them protectively. “Sorry, guys. No fun tonight. They’re with me.” The group of men close ranks as Cooper moves us behind him.

The guy I bumped into straightens to his full height, and I see him differently.

He may be tall and handsome, but he’s got a presence I know well.

It’s hard to miss a fighter when you’re surrounded by them all the time. And this guy reeks of it. “How about you let the ladies speak for themselves? They seemed to be having a good time until you got involved.” The stranger attempts to move around Coop but stops when a familiar hand pulls me back.

Hudson moves in next to Cooper, attempting to block my view as the crowd surrounding us begins to take notice of what’s happening, not that I’m even sure of what’s going on.

“Back the fuck up, Spider.” Hudson’s hands ball into fists at his sides, and my own fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. This man cannot get into a fight tonight. He can’t . . . He can’t get hurt. He can’t get in trouble. He can’t give them any reason to take away his title fight next week.

With my heart about to beat out of my chest, I move around Hud and place myself between him and whoever this guy is.

I place my hand on Hudson’s pecs and look up at him. His eyes flare with rage. Only now, it’s directed at me. “Move, Madison.”

He doesn’t lift his hands to me.

Always respecting my boundaries.

But he’s pissed. And I’m the new target.

“Listen to your bitch, King. She knows you’re not so big outside the cage. Knows you can’t beat me. I mean, I can see why you’d let her have your balls with an ass like that.”

My head whips around in time to see this disgusting man take a step forward, and his eyes look me over from head to toe. “When you’re ready to ride a real man, you come see Spider, baby. I’ll show you what you’re missing.”

Hudson takes a step forward, and I grab his hand and pull him away.

Completely aware that he’s letting me do this.

“Maybe I should start calling her to get you to fight me, King. Is that it? That how I can finally get that title? Looks like she’s the one calling the shots. You go have your fight next week. Beat another chump. Like it’s hard.”

Hud stops, and everyone around us takes a step back, feeling the anger radiating from this normally controlled man. “I’ll fight you anywhere.” He takes a step closer. “Anytime. Anyplace. But I don’t fight for free. You’ve got to earn it. Now fuck off and get the hell outta my brother’s bar.” It’s like the entire dance floor has decided to completely ignore the world-famous band on the stage and watch these two fighters instead.

When he turns back to me, his fingers lace with mine, and I don’t dare pull away. An eerie calmness covers the unchecked fury in his dark-blue eyes. “Come on,” are the only two words uttered before Becket meets us at the door with Hudson’s coat and my purse in his hands.

“You okay?” Becks looks between the two of us, and I’m not sure if he’s asking me or Hud.

Hudson opens the bar door and guides me through it before answering his brother through clenched teeth. “I’m good. We’re leaving.”

He drapes his coat over my shoulders while we stand silently, waiting for the valet to come back with the car. “Hudson—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off. “Not right now, Madison.”

Eventually, he holds my door open, then rounds the front of the car and gets behind the wheel.

The twenty-minute drive back to his house feels more like twenty hours.

He never looks at me. Never speaks to me. Nothing. Not a single word. And I hate every minute of it, but I have no idea what I did or if he’s even mad at me.

By the time we pull into his garage, I want to scream, and that kind of outburst goes against every instinct I’ve ever had.

Once Hudson turns the car off, I decide to take my chances and turn toward him. “I’m—”

“Nope.” He opens the door and gets out of the car. “We’re not doing this yet.” Then he slams the door behind him, and I watch as he stomps up the stairs and goes inside.

What?

Is he kidding me?

I follow him into the house, my own anger growing as I try to decide whether he’s mad at me or just mad.

And there he is, leaning against the counter in the kitchen with his head hanging low.

“Hudson—”

His head snaps up, and those dark eyes hold me hostage. “Don’t, Madison. Don’t speak. Not yet. You have no fucking clue what you did tonight.”

I tentatively step into him, forcing his head up and ask quietly, “What I did? Explain to me what I did. Because as far as I can see, the only thing I did was remove the two of us from the situation.”

Hudson swiftly picks me up and deposits me on the counter, so we’re eye level with each other, then cages me in. “What you did was put yourself in the mouth of the goddamned lion, Madison. You put yourself between two trained fighters instead of trusting me to handle it. Trusting me to protect you. That’s my world. Not yours.”

I press my palm flat against his chest, not pushing him but instead giving myself space to breathe. “I didn’t want you to get hurt again because of me.”

“You don’t get it. I wouldn’t have gotten hurt. But you could have. And there’s no fucking way I don’t kill that guy if he accidentally hits you instead of me. You’ve seen me fight, Maddie. But that’s been controlled. There are rules in the cage. Rules we all follow. There aren’t rules in a street fight. And I’m not gonna be controlled if something happens to you.” His hand slaps the counter next to my thigh, and I shiver. Not in fear . . . but at the way his skin grazes mine.

“You can’t put yourself in danger for me. That’s not how this works. You need to trust that I’ll always keep you safe.” Hudson lifts his hand to cradle my face, and a chill races down my spine. “I can handle getting hurt. I can’t handle you getting hurt.”

“Hudson . . .” I fist his shirt as I search his eyes for an answer to my unasked question.

I hate that I put him in this position.

I hate that he’s mad at me.

And I really hate how desperate I am for him to kiss me right now. “I’m sorry. I . . . I didn’t think.”

A wave of emotion sweeps over his face before he drops his hands and steps back. “No. You didn’t.” Without another word, he turns on his heels and walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving me speechless and wondering what the heck just happened.

Eventually, I head upstairs and stare at the clothes in my suitcase.

I was supposed to stay the night and go home tomorrow, but I don’t stay places I’m not wanted. Not anymore. Not ever again. And Hudson is fine. If he could go out tonight, he doesn’t need me here. I honestly think he didn’t need me at all, he just didn’t want me alone after the break-in, and that simultaneously aggravates me and melts my anger a little.

I’ve never been confused by this man in all the years I’ve known him.

We’re friends. That’s it. I’ll always wonder if there could be more between us, but it won’t work. It can’t. And I can’t do this to myself. I refuse to.

With my mind made up, I throw on a pair of leggings and a hoodie, then grab my stuff from the bathroom and toss it into my bag. I didn’t have that much with me, so it only takes a minute to pack it up before I’m adding my MacBook to my work bag and sitting it on top of my suitcase, ready to go.

When I turn around, a scream gets caught in my throat.

Hudson stands in the doorway, staring at me. He’s changed into his sweats and a white t-shirt that’s stretched across his chest. A tight look lines his eyes. He’s definitely still mad.

“You’re leaving?” he asks. Only he doesn’t sound mad, so much as hurt.

I mirror his stance. “I’m not going to stay where I’m obviously not wanted.”

He moves into the room and slides his hands up my arms.

I don’t pull away. I can’t. And after a moment, I realize I don’t want to.

Not when we’re this close. Not tonight.

He lifts his head to the ceiling before bringing his eyes back to mine, but a different kind of fire is sparking in them now. “I’ve wanted you every single day since you walked into Crucible three years ago, Madison.”

“Oh,” is all I manage to squeak out in shock before I pull it together and tip my head back to look at him. “But you were mad.”

“Yeah. I was. I still am. Because the idea of you getting hurt makes me see red, Maddie. But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave. It just meant I needed a fucking minute to pull my shit together and stop seeing red.” He wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on the top of my head, holding me there until I finally soften and lay my face against him. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t wanted. Don’t leave.”

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t think about any of the ways my getting in the way could go badly. I didn’t think past making sure you didn’t get hurt.” Giving in, I finally wrap my arms around his waist and surrender to the feeling of being in his embrace.

I’m not sure how long we stand there in silence, but somewhere along the line, I let go of my anger and breathe him in.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Come on. You said the third Harry Potter movie was your favorite.” He tugs me behind him into his room, and the two of us crawl under his covers before he pulls the movie up on his TV.

“Mads . . .” he says over the intro music I know by heart.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll never let anything happen to you.” The sheer honesty in his voice adds another crack to my walls, and I move closer to him and rest my head tentatively on his shoulder.

“I know that,” I whisper quietly.

Neither of us say another word as the movie plays. And I guess, unsurprisingly to either of us, I spend another night in his bed. Sleeping soundly. Completely safe.