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“Do you believe in life after death?” I ask the devil.
“What happens after death, no one knows. But everyone goes. The question is who will go first? Me? Or you?”
“Enough.” Kody grabs my arm, yanking me away from the bars as he seethes in my ear. “What are you doing?”
“Let her have her brave moment, Son.” Denver gives me a chilling smile. “You don’t get many of those, do you, little girl? Perhaps only when you’re waving a gun or standing behind the protection of a steel door.”
I want to kill him. Right here. Right now. I want to punch my fist through his throat and rip out his spine.
But he’s looking for a reaction.
He wants me scared and out of control.
Untangling myself from Kody’s infuriated grip, I saunter back to the cage and shape my lips in a lazy smile. “You don’t get many brave moments, either, do you, old man? Perhaps only when you’re pinning a child to a mattress and forcing yourself on him.”
His face goes slack.
“You’re a masterpiece, Denver Strakh. A hideous work of horror.” I clutch the bars, holding his terrible gaze. “But after I watch the light fade from your eyes, you will be forgotten.”
“Forgotten as quickly as your husband forgot you? I wonder who’s warming his bed tonight?”
My blood drains to my feet.
I’m cold. So fucking cold I can’t feel my limbs.
Kody lifts me, not giving me a choice this time, as he throws me over his shoulder and carries me away from the cage. He grabs our bowls and continues walking out of the workshop, into the breath-stealing night, and all the way to the cabin.
In Denver’s room, we eat before the hearth, bundled together in blankets.
“You will not engage him again.” He sets his empty dish aside. “You will not go anywhere near that cage.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Just did.”
“Oh, so you can make demands while ignoring mine?”
“I don’t take orders from anyone.”
“Tough shit. If you sit in there with him, you’re not doing it alone.”
“You’re not hearing me, woman!” He explodes, thrusting out an arm. “Every time he looks at you, it takes years off my life! You’re freezing, fucking starving to death, and you’re not going back there. End of story!”
“That’s not fair.”
“How the fuck is it not fair?” he snarls.
“You’re freezing, also starving, and every time he looks at you, it takes years off my life.”
“He doesn’t look at me.”
“Jesus, Kody, are you blind? He eye-fucks you more than anyone else!”
His nostrils pulse, and his jawline turns rock hard. “I don’t engage him.”
“Yeah, well, someone needs to. If we don’t convince him to help us, he won’t. He’ll sit in there and do nothing until he dies.”
“Don’t you think I fucking know that? There is literally nothing anyone can say to make him see reason.”
“Maybe not, but I had to try.”
“You won’t do it again.” He stands and piles another blanket atop my shivering shoulders. “I’ll return when I’m hungry. Do not come looking for me.”
“Kody.”
He pauses at the doorway with his back to me, pulls in a breath, and storms out.
68
Frankie
—
For two days, I remain cloistered by the fireplace’s warmth, only venturing out for brief restroom visits.
My body aches with stiffness, a condition that could be remedied with Pilates or yoga. But exercise burns calories.
So I suck it up, hoard my energy, and sleep the hours away.
Sleeping is better than ruminating in my thoughts. Except every time I wake, it’s with gasping, crippling fear.
Leo and Wolf should be back by now.
“Where are they?” My voice seeps out from the blanket’s folds, echoing in the chilly, dim bedroom.
Only silence answers.
“I know you’re there.” Peeling back a corner of the covers, I squint toward the doorway.
Kody, seated on the floor, back against the doorframe, glares at me.
Oh, right. Grumpy and unresponsive.
Curled into a ball to conserve warmth, I burrow deeper. “Still not talking to me?”
A grunt.
Not exactly conversational, but for Kody, it’s his native language.
Since our disagreement, he’s maintained a distance, save for his silent vigils, when he lurks in the doorway and watches me sleep from a shadowed corner.
If he’s as concerned about his brothers, he doesn’t show it.
I’m worried sick. It’s all I think about. What if they couldn’t find shelter? What if they were overtaken by wolves or lost their footing and fell into the icy river? They can die from hypothermia in less than one hour.
I can’t deal with the what-ifs. “When will this indomitable night end?”
Since I don’t expect an answer, I’m startled when he says, “Anytime now.”
“Really?” I glance at the dark window then up at the rafters, my pulse skipping. “The solar panels—”
“No. It’ll arrive with a tease of light on the horizon. Then, eventually, the sky will faintly glow for an hour or two each day. Won’t have enough sun to charge the panels until the thaw, and by then…”
