Page 62 of Trapped (Caged 2)


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I glared down at her.

“Sorry I tricked you into it,” she said with a shrug, clearly not at all remorseful. “I know what you think of me, and it doesn’t matter. All I can tell you is that I do love Ryan, and I would do anything for him.”

“Including throwing me to the wolves,” I shot back.

“If needed, yes,” she responded simply. “Though I’ve done no such thing.”

“What else would you call it?”

“Liam,” Mandi sighed, “the only wolf in the situation now is you.”

I was about to give her a big old fuck you, but I saw Ryan’s form out of the corner of my eye as he danced with a redhead I vaguely remembered from high school.

Where the fuck was Tria?

Dropping Amanda’s hand, I turned around and saw her in the arms of my father just as the music changed.

I was never one to cause a scene, but they took this one way too far.

Chapter 13—Flee the Scene

I think I went a bit insane for a few minutes. Maybe it was the alcohol—I really didn’t drink often, and it was definitely affecting me—or maybe it was just the strange sense of déjà vu being in the presence of all these people again. None of them had approached me, so either they had forgotten Douglass and Julianne had a son, or they were just afraid to say anything to the estranged only child.

Whatever it was, I lost it.

Amanda tried to hold on to me, but I shoved her to one side and stalked straight toward my father and Tria. I could see Ryan out of the corner of my eye, but he seemed more confused than anything and didn’t move to block me. The redhead in his arms glanced from his face over to me, and there was a slight twinkle of recognition in her eyes.

I barely registered any of it.

The man I hated more than anything had his hands on my girl, and God only knew what he was saying to her. His expression was good-natured enough as he smiled gently at Tria. His mouth moved, but his words were muted.

I could only imagine what he might be telling her.

“Get your fucking hands off of her!” I screamed as I inserted myself in between them.

I braced my hands against his shoulders and shoved him backwards across the dance floor. He slammed into another couple who stumbled but didn’t quite fall.

“Don’t you ever, ever touch her!” I continued to yell.

“Liam!” Tria’s hand grasped onto my forearm. “He was just—”

“Shut up!” I screeched as I turned and glared at her, my eyes blazing. I could see her tense, but my attention returned to the tall, blond man who had been dancing with her. “You don’t touch her! You don’t touch anything in my life, you hear me?”

For a moment, all I could hear were the panting breaths coming out of my mouth, and I realized someone must have stopped the music. There were hundreds of people just standing around watching me, and it only fueled my anger.

“I didn’t mean any harm, Liam,” Douglass said. “I only wanted to meet her—”

Holding Tria by the arm, I brought her behind me and up close. I didn’t want her near him. I didn’t want him to have the opportunity to tell her she was unworthy—I had to protect her from that.

“Well, you don’t get to!” I interrupted, sneering.

“I only hoped—”

“You don’t get to hope, either!” I continued to scream at him. “You don’t get shit! Not from me!”

“Liam, please don’t do this.” In another time, the melodic voice would have calmed me into submission, but those days were long past.

I turned toward my mother.

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