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I’d been fortunate to find an outlet for my pent-up energy earlier in the afternoon when the sun had come out and the temps had risen above the freezing level. There’d been a pile of uncut firewood by the cut wood next to the cabin and after searching out the axe in a small shed behind the building, I’d taken out all my frustrations on that pile of wood. My muscles had burned afterwards, but the discomfort had helped since I hadn’t been able to work out as much as I’d wanted in the past four days. I’d managed to do some strength training in the small living room, but it hadn’t been enough to take the edge off. And since I couldn’t risk leaving Lucy and Ethan alone in the cabin, I was pretty much stuck inside of it with them 24/7.
While Lucy had seemed receptive to my presence the first couple of days, her demeanor had changed in the last two. She’d gone quiet again, barely speaking to me beyond one-word answers. She spent most of her time in her room or Ethan’s. She took the food I made each night for dinner, but she ate in Ethan’s room and I suspected it was at some point over one of the meals that Ethan had reminded her that they couldn’t trust me. Ethan had finally started eating more substantial things, but I left all that to Lucy to deal with since I had no desire to spend more time in the man’s company than I had to. In fact, I had officially started counting the hours until I could get him and his young charge turned over to Ronan.
As I tried to get comfortable on the too small couch for what thankfully would be the last time, I heard Ethan’s door open. It was just the barest of squeaks, but I’d become so in tune to the sound that it never failed to register. Under normal circumstances, I would have waited for the footsteps that signaled Lucy was returning to her room from Ethan’s. But it was well after two o’clock in the morning and I’d heard Lucy head to bed hours earlier.
I quickly climbed to my feet, instantly concerned that Ethan needed something. But my worry turned to something else when I saw a figure round the corner from the back hallway into the kitchen. The cabin was almost completely dark except for a small night light plugged in near the stove. It was enough light to confirm it was Ethan I was seeing, but that he clearly hadn’t seen me. His moves were slow as he entered the kitchen, but he seemed steady on his feet. I kept my presence to myself since I assumed he was just getting himself something to eat or drink, but the second he began rifling through the drawer nearest the stove, I tensed. From the way he worked to make sure there was next to no sound as he opened the drawer and searched through it, I realized he was looking for something. A mix of fury and fear went through me as it registered what he was looking for and I instantly moved forward, my bare feet silent on the tile floor. Ethan had just pulled the second drawer open when I snagged his wrist and yanked his arm behind his back.
He let out a sharp cry of pain as I snarled, “They’re not there, asshole! You want to take me out, you’re going to have to find a different weapon!”
“Please,” Ethan whispered as I shoved him hard against the counter and grabbed his other hand so I could make sure he hadn’t found something in the drawer to use against me. His hand was empty so I yanked him upright and turned him around. He tried to lash out at me, but it was easy to subdue him by putting my hand around his throat. As infuriated as I was, there was enough light cast across his features to remind me of the bruises that still covered much of his face and I automatically eased my grip on him. Ethan’s hands came up to close over my wrist at his neck, but he didn’t struggle beyond that.
“Did you really think it would be that easy?” I snapped.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Ethan managed to say, though his voice sounded scratchy.
“Right, and next you’re going to tell me you were just looking for a spoon or some shit like that!”
“My keys,” he bit out as his breath began to come in ragged gasps. Since my hold on his neck wasn’t putting any real pressure on his throat, I knew his reaction wasn’t because he couldn’t actually breathe.
Which meant he was panicking.
Because I was doing to him what that fucker had done to him just a handful of days ago.
