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“We’ll stop on the way.” Biting my lip, he leaves as quickly as he comes, and I imagine him standing guard on the other side of the door.
CHAPTER11
Magnolia
Despite my resistance, I spent much of my day researching more about South Africa. Not just the parts that really need help but places near Cage’s home, and not just for teaching positions, either, but in a social services setting, where I could be some help. I even shot off an email to a youth center that’s looking for a counselor and organizer.
I’m still not sure I’ll go with Cage—it’s a crazy amount of paperwork to even get a work visa, let alone uprooting my entire life—but it’s worth considering. There’s a huge part of me that wants to say the hell with it and go with him, but then there’s the scared young woman inside, begging me to stay put. To not leave the safety and familiarity I’ve built with my life here.
With this week being the last of the school year before summer break, I’m swamped with all the things I have to tie up before leaving, so pushing thoughts of Cage and Africa to the back of my mind is easy.
“Miss Taylor?” My head whips up from the applications I was filling out for some students to join an art class over the summer.
“Yes?” I offer a warm smile to Mrs. Wyatt, our receptionist. “What can I do for you?”
She chews on her lip as she glances back at the office, a worried expression on her face. “There’s a rather intimidating man here to see you.”
Nerves flicker in my belly as I feel the baby roll around. The only intimidating man I know is Cage, but experience tells me it could be anyone. “I’ll be right there.” I’m unsure if I succeed in hiding my own nerves.
Standing up, I take a drink of my now-cold raspberry tea and smooth the wrinkles out of my skirt as I step around my desk. By the time I make it to my office door, I’ve worked myself into quite the tizzy and need to press a hand to my stomach to attempt to stop the butterflies.
I see Mrs. Wyatt standing behind her desk, wary of the newcomer, but he’s hidden by the pillar in the doorframe. Despite reassuring myself that it must be Cage in the office and that I’m worrying for nothing, I’m surprised when I enter, and it’s not him.
Rather, it’s a man about half a foot shorter, with dark hair, and when he turns at my entrance, his eyes are even darker, and it’s then I realize he’s the man from the signing. The one in the life jacket who had warned me I needed protecting. There’s a scar along the side of his face, and even though he’s impeccably dressed, he gives off a menacing vibe.
“Can I help you?” I don’t bother to appear chipper; I know it won’t work. Not with him.
“Magnolia Taylor, nice to see you again.” Obviously, he knows who I am as his eyes roam up and down my body, his gaze pausing on my rounded belly. I place a hand over it protectively, instinctively. A corner of his mouth lifts like it’s a joke that I’d want to protect my baby.
“How can I help you?” I repeat when I’d rather be anyone else right now. I’m not familiar with this man, but it’s clear that he’s not someone I’d mess around with.
“Can we talk privately?” My gaze flicks over to Mrs. Wyatt, and she pales. She knows, too.
“The conference room is free,” she offers, and I inwardly sag with relief because I didn’t want to bring him back to my office.
His eyes narrow as he glances through the doorway I came from. “Do you not have an office?”
“There are students working in there.” I’ve never lied so quickly in my life. He gives a clipped nod and gestures for me to lead the way.
Forced to enter the conference room first, I’m grateful the bank of windows facing into the office have open curtains because the click of the door closing behind my guest is unnerving.
“How can I help you, Mr.…” Standing on the opposite side of the long table, I put as much distance between us as I can.
“Vega,” he supplies. “I’m looking for Cage Craven.” Venom laces those words.
Licking my chapped lips, I’m hesitant about how I should play this. “I can’t help you.” Not a complete lie. I can’t. Cage was planning on going out after he made sure my mother left this morning.
“I’m certain you can. You see, Cage and I have…had…an agreement from many years ago. I’m here to collect.” That sounds ominous.
“I still can’t help you.” Africa is looking better and better right now. We should have left last night.
Taking a seat at the table, he steeples his fingers and lasers me with a look so penetrating that I feel it to my soul. “Magnolia, he took my family from me when I was a child.” His voice is foreboding. “I promised to return the favor when I was old enough. I’m here to collect on my promise. If that means cutting the child from your womb, I will do it, or he can surrender himself up to me. The choice is his. Please let him know he has twenty-four hours to decide.”
I feel myself paling at his words, my heart unable to decide between slowing down or beating so powerfully that it jumps right out of my chest when he stands. Pulling something from his jacket, he holds out a card for me to take.
When I don’t, he comes around the table. Clasping onto my shoulder, he slips it into the thick strap of my dress and leans in close. “Perhaps, I’ll take the both of you instead. You are a very beautiful woman; I’m sure your child will be, as well.” The implication is crystal clear.
And terrifying.
