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“You know,” he began, “I think I like you…?”
Did he think I’d volunteer my name? That was one of the most tried and tired tricks in the book. I knew my mouth had to remain shut. Keeping my face neutral, however, was easier said than done. The moment his grubby hands touched my skin, I wanted to headbutt him.
“Got anything on you I should know about?”
“Nope.”
He’d taken my holster and my bag already. The most lethal weapons I had could never be stolen from me, anyway. I got common sense from my mother and the reckless ability to raise hell from my father.
As his fingers trailed down both of my arms, I swear my skin shriveled beneath his touch. Why were his nails so jagged?
He flipped my left wrist, then the right. The moment he spotted the insignia on the underside, he froze. His head moved up and down as he looked from me back to the mark.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” His grip tightened and he lifted his goggles, revealing a dark shade of amber eyes and surprisingly well kempt eyebrows.
“What is it, Knox?” his friend with the dirty blonde hair, Tyson, asked.
“She’s one of them Stag fuckers.”
“Creed’s then? Or is that Lazarus?”
“It’s the same dang thing, Jacob. A conspiracy for the ages.”
It took me a second to remember that Creed was Amo.
I don’t know why he’d needed an alias, but what was more concerning was Knox knowing he and Samael played for the same team.
“She looks young,” Jacob said. “So does the Chinese one.”
Takara scoffed. What a piece of ignorant swine.
“Yeah, she does…” He leaned in, nearly pressing his nose to mine. “I’m old enough to be your daddy. Ain’t I, girl? I’ve always liked that.”
Ew. How dare he?
“Fortunately, my daddy has a lot more polish than you, and he isn’t into little girls.”
I expected pain in retaliation for that, but he simply shrugged it off. “That’s common in our family. The closer the kin the better.”
That wasn’t something I cared to know.
“I take it your friends came from the same place you did?”
I wasn’t confirming or denying anything when his motives were unknown. I had barely escaped him finding my other insignia tattoo—the one that marked me as a Savage.
“I’ll find out for myself.” He patted my cheek and stepped back, pulling me along to another stall. Once I was inside, he turned to his companions. “Call the boys, Jacob. We’ve got some stakes to raise.”
“What are you going to do with us?” the blonde whimpered from a few stalls down.
“I can’t tell you yet. It’d spoil all the fun.” He turned to Jacob. “Help me get the big fella situated, would ya?”
They took their leave, Knox calling over his shoulder before he slammed the barn door shut. “See you soon.”
I removed my torn tank and turned to Takara as soon as they were gone.
I couldn’t touch her due to the window bars being so close together, but I could see her.
“You okay?”
“No. This is humiliating! We didn’t make it anywhere.”
“I was asking if you’re hurt.”
She grabbed at the stall door’s handle and tugged. It didn’t budge but for a small squeak. “I’ll be fine once we get out of here and find Poet,” she replied with a growl of frustration.
I peered around her and tried my best to make out the other two.
“What’s your guys’ names?”
“Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cherry. Cliché, right?” The redhead replied first. You could hear how anxious she was despite the upbeat tone.
“No…” I trailed off, thinking of my mom.
I couldn’t divulge who I was to her.
We may have been kidnapped and locked up in a barn together, but she was still a stranger, and this was the Badlands. I wasn’t at the lodge anymore. These folks had no loyalty to me or Samael.
“I knew someone who was called Blue.”
“Blue hair?” she guessed.
“Her name actually means blue, but she does—did—have blue hair too.”
“That’s—”
I cut her off with a swift subject change. “I’m Layla, by the way. That’s Tiny.”
“Tiny?” the blonde sniffled.
“I’m a skinny bitch.” Takara went right along with my lie, getting the girl to release a shaky laugh.
“I’m Hannah.”
“Okay, Hannah. Cherry. You two want to help us get the hell out of here?”
“Tell me what you need,” Cherry answered eagerly.
“Just listen for anyone coming.”
I turned in my stall and went to the rotted piece of plywood covering a window.
I’d spotted it the second I was shoved in here thanks to the small streams of light coming through the bottom portion.
Cognizant that my chest was exposed thanks to Knox’s perverted need to rediscover what actual boobs felt like, I wanted to avoid pressing them against it. Against anything around me, really.
Granted, I was a hot mess. All I had for a top was my sports-bra; the flannel was inside my bag somewhere. My hair was frizzed and mostly undone from the braid it had been in. Because I was sweaty, dirt mixed with flakes of grass were clinging to me from where I had hit the tarmac, and Travis’ blood was dried onto my skin.
