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She looks from Burke to me and back again, her eyes shining and her luscious lips forming a dazzling smile.
“Yes, Burke. Yes, Bruce,” she says, her voice hoarse. She reaches to each of our laps, where we each clasp a plump little hand. “I commit to living here with you.”
“Even though the men we live with are criminals? Literal felons? Even though our lair is underground, buried next to the New York City sewer?” I growl.
“Yes,” she nods with a small laugh. “Those men respect you. They won’t hurt me, especially not after that macho display earlier,” she giggles. “Besides, I can’t smell the sewer, so whatever you’ve done, it’s been done well. We will need to get rid of the rats though. I find them so creepy,” she says with a shiver.
Bruce and I nod, satisfied. Annabel’s right. The men won’t touch a hair on their head because they know it means their death if they do. She’s safe here, probably safer than she’s ever been.
“Well, we’re happy you approve because when we created this space, we had you in mind,” I say. “But New York rats are a problem. The city spends millions each year trying to eradicate rodents, but somehow, they always come back.”
“I know, right?” asks Annabel with another shiver. “They’re nefarious and just everywhere. You don’t have vermin in here, do you?” she asks, looking around the room quickly.
“No, not that we know if,” I laugh. “But seriously honey, is there anything other than rats holding you back? Because you know Burke and I are men who claim. And once you commit, we’ll never let you get away.”
Her eyes go soft then as she smiles, squeezing our hands.
“Yes, of course I commit to you, Bruce and Burke. You took me from a life that I hated, and gave me something so much better. Yourselves.”
Those are the words we needed to hear, and with growls, we swoop in to claim her lips.
“You mean so much to us, sweetheart,” my brother rasps.
“More than that,” I add. “You’re everything to us, Annabel.”
Our lips lock in passionate intensity for a few minutes before I pull away.
“One more thing,” I say.
“What’s that?” she asks, already reaching for me again with a hungry look.
“Where do you think we are?” I growl, pinning her with my gaze. Annabel looks back and forth between us, curious, waiting for us to go on.
“What do you mean?” she asks. “I thought we were underground, next to the sewers. With the rats and all?”
Bruce and I exchange glances, wondering how to put this, or at least which part to reveal first.
“Well, let’s put it this way,” I continue gently. “Where do you think we are geographically? In terms of North, South, East and West? Or better yet, where are we according to the city grid?”
Annabel is utterly confused now.
“I don’t know,” she smiles. “Near Central Park somewhere? That’s where we entered the long tunnel, right? So somewhere close by?”
She’s smart and my heart swells.
“Actually, you’re right,” I say with a half-smile. “We’re much closer to your old home than you think.” She goes quiet.
“How close?” she whispers.
“We’re … well,” tries Burke, looking a little embarrassed. “We’re next door to your old house, actually.” Annabel’s eyes light up in shock.
“What?” she exclaims. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, princess,” I say. “I’m sorry we made you walk through that tunnel like that. We had to do it because we’d just left a crime scene and couldn’t just come straight here. It was too much to explain at the time.”
She looks back and forth between us again, incredulously.
“Wait. So,” she stumbles, trying to comprehend, “you two have lived next door to me this whole time?”
“No,” Burke and I both hasten to say.
“This wasn’t always our safehouse,” Burke continues. “In fact, we only moved here three months ago, after that last time, when we told you all about us and you … well, you were reluctant.”
She nods.
“Yes, but how did you get to this location? I assume we’re beneath Central Park, right next to my old building?”
I nod.
“Yeah, there’s an old system of tunnels. Once upon a time, they were going to put a subway line here, but then those plans fell by the wayside when they ran out of money. After that, we took control. We dug some more through the ground and began building, all without the Transit Authority’s knowledge. And this is what you get,” I say, gesturing to the walls around us.
She gasps.
“So that’s how you’ve been watching me?” she asks, a smile now spreading across her face. “But how? We’re underground.”
I grin.
“Sometimes we pop outside now and then to look up at your window. Kind of like Cyrano de Bergerac.”
She merely shakes her head.
“Wow. Just wow. I never would have guessed.”
I grow serious then.
“I know, honey. No one would guess, which is why this location is perfect. We’re right next to a bunch of museums, as well as a bunch of rich people who are never home. Can you believe it? New York is filled with people who travel all the time, leaving their artwork and jewelry unguarded. It’s mind-boggling.”
