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GENEVIEVE
The next few days are worse than the ones I spent here at the beginning because I know these men now, and their cold, distant, uninterested gazes and clipped words make my heart ache. I hide in my room like they ordered, not wanting to betray them again. I never see Eric, like Archer promised, so I am unable to explain or apologise, though I’m not sure I would apologise if given the chance.
They deliver meals and watch me eat as if they are concerned about what I’ll do with the cutlery, and then they take it away and leave me cold and alone. I’m escorted to the bathroom and back to my room, the door remaining locked at all times.
There’s no flirting, no laughter, and no soft, longing touches.
When Gage comes by with my dinner, I can’t even stomach it, feeling sick and chilled to the bone. He doesn’t force me to eat, he just looks at me with disgust and goes to leave again, so I leap to my feet and reach for him, but the glare he gives my hand makes me drop it.
“Can I get some fresh air?” I request softly. His eyes narrow, and I quickly backpedal. “You can escort me. I just need some air for a minute,” I beg, my shoulders slumping the longer he glares at me.
I feel like a beaten stray dog, and I hate it.
They don’t like me anymore, and they don’t want me, especially because they are like me, survivors, and now, even my own kind is abandoning me.
When this is all over, where will I fit? Not with the rich, but not back on the streets either. My thoughts halt, because for the first time, I wonder if this really will be over. Chaz isn’t going to pay, so they aren’t going to get the money they clearly want, and they obviously have no concerns over my life anymore. So will they kill me? Will I die here in this farmhouse, surrounded by men who cannot even stand to look at me?
Will I die cold and alone?
Forgotten like I never existed in the first place?
The thought makes the already small room close in around me until I can barely breathe. I wrap my arms around my waist, shivering as I drop my eyes to the floor. I don’t want Gage to see my defeat, my panic. “Please,” I implore. “I won’t try anything. I promise.”
“Your word is worth shit,” he sneers, and I flinch as if I were struck. “Fuck. Fine. Two minutes, and then you’re back up here, you hear me?” he demands, grabbing my chin and jerking it up until I stare into his hateful eyes.
“Yes,” I murmur. His gaze drops to my lips, and for a moment, I see a flash of desire before he releases my face none too gently.
He throws open the door and stomps downstairs, leaving me to hurry after him. At the backdoor, he jerks his chin at some boots, and I quickly slip into them. I fumble over the buckles. They are too big, dwarfing my feet, but I don’t complain as he rips open the door and hurries out as if to escape me. I follow after, stepping over the threshold.
My eyes close as I suck in desperate breaths, filling my tight lungs. I let the open space and the floral country air settle my worries. For a moment, I just let it wash everything away. The sun warms my skin as I drop my hands and let my body fill with hope.
With the beauty of the world.
There’s a noise, and my eyes open, clashing with his from inches away. I stumble back at the fire in his gaze as he runs it across me. Swallowing, I lick my lips. He follows the gesture before turning away.
“You have one minute,” he rumbles.
Nodding, even though he can’t see, I bite my lip as I stare at his built back. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He jerks, his muscles hardening, but he ignores me, so I wander, stretching my body. He keeps pace the entire time, and before I know it, the time is over and he leads me back inside. I shuck the boots and walk back to the stairs automatically. My foot is on the bottom step when three loud banging knocks sound at the front door. I freeze, eyes wide, watching the wooden door shake from the force.
My heart soars before squeezing when a hand wraps around my mouth from behind. I cry out reflexively as lips meet the shell of my ear. “Shut the fuck up. You say a word, and I’ll snap your neck,” Gage threatens as he draws me to the other side of the door, where no one can see me. My back is pressed to his chest tightly as he holds me so I can’t move or make a sound.
Archer appears from the kitchen, nodding at Gage before he opens the door. He keeps his arm across it so they can’t push it open farther, hiding us behind the open door. There’s an inhale from the other side.
“Oh, hi, sorry.” The thick Cornish accent makes my eyebrows rise as the male stumbles over his words. “I saw the lights last night and wanted to check if everything was okay, since this farmhouse is abandoned.”
“It was passed down to Gage,” Archer says, his eyes sliding to me, as if unwilling to say his last name in my presence. “Their son. Sorry, I’m Archer, his friend. We are staying here for a few days and going through old family possessions as he decides what he wants to do with the place.”
“Oh,” the voice responds. “Of course.” They sound embarrassed. “We haven’t seen him since he was a boy, since his old man died and he left. We didn’t know he was back. Sorry about that, I just like to keep an eye on the place. We were friends, you see.”
“Of course,” Archer replies silkily. “We won’t be here much longer, and I will ensure Gage stops by to say goodbye and update you on his plans.”
“Oh, well, that would be great. Thanks, mate,” the man stutters.
My eyes widen, searching for a way to get their attention, because one thing is clear—I’m not getting out of here alive, not without help.
“Do not even think about it,” Gage hisses in my ear as I start to struggle. His grip tightens, but I freeze when I feel something hard pressing into my ass.
