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7
Outside of the bedroom looks just like the inside. No windows, concrete floors, and bare walls. The only items making it apparent people live here are the pieces of furniture. The place must be climate controlled, because the air is clean and smells fresh, unlike a musky basement.
A long hallway leads us to an open living area, which is almost normal looking. A U-shaped leather couch sits in the center, with a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from it. A pool table and several arcade games fill the far end of the room.
My eyes search for an exit as we walk, but nothing looks like a door leading to the outside.
The guys flank me as they lead me through their home, and even though we are supposedly going to lunch, I can’t stop thinking I’m being led to slaughter.
As soon as we enter the kitchen and attached dining room, I confirm why I had a bad feeling. Two men sit at the table, one of which I already know. It’s the guy who threw me against the hood of the car and punched my head, yesterday.
He grumbles when he sees us approach, equally unhappy to see me.
“You’ve met Derick.” Hunter points to the asshole. “This is Eli,” he introduces the other guy.
Eli, who is eating a burger, doesn’t even look up or acknowledge me.Okay.
“Come on.” Hunter takes my arm and leads me to the other side of the large table, the furthest away from Derick and Eli. I take a seat and watch Ryker put food on plates. Hunter hovers behind my chair until Ryker brings our food, taking the seat to my right. Only then does Hunter go into the kitchen to prepare his plate.
“Thanks,” I murmur before picking up the burger and taking a huge bite.
Hunter returns and sits to my left. He eats while giving his friends on the other side of the table the stink eye.
“Now she is eating our food too?” Derick barks.
“Shut up–” Ryker snarls.
“He isn’t wrong,” Eli cuts in. “She can’t be here and letting her eat is a waste of our supplies. You need to take care of it like you said you would.”
Take care of it…I want to throw this fucking burger at his face.
Gathering all the restraint I can muster, I don’t react to his words. Instead, I concentrate on eating the food, taking bigger bites to keep my mouth full so I won’t say anything I shouldn’t.
My eyes ping pong between Hunter and Ryker, who are looking at each other like they are having a silent conversation. What it’s about, I have no clue. Probably abouttaking care of it.
Just when I’m done shoveling this burger into my face, another person enters the room with a folder in his hand. Link, the driver of the getaway car.
“Lincoln,” Hunter nods as Link sits down across from me.
Lincoln lays the folder on the table and flips to the first page. “I ran a background check on your pet,” he announces.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Hunter points out, digging the knife deeper. It’s unnecessary because I’ll be dead soon.
“I did it anyway. She could be a fed trying to set us up.”
“She wasn’t wearing a wire, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Ryker grins. “We strip searched her very thoroughly.”
“I’m sure you did.” Eli shakes his head before he reads from the paper, “Annabel Sofia Williams, twenty-one years old, mother deceased, father deceased, no sibling, no other living relative, no close friends, or serious boyfriends in the past…” Flipping through the pages, he lists off my life, reminding me of how pitiful my existence is…was.
“Attended four different high schools, applied for a job at the sheriff’s department right after graduation. Really boring stuff. The most interesting fact about her I could find is that she didn’t pass the psyche evaluation. The Sheriff had to make those test results disappear for her to enter police training. Just out of curiosity, how did you make that happen?”
Wow, color me shocked. I’m impressed he found out about that.
“The Sheriff owed me favor,” I explain. Actually, he owes me much more than that. “I asked him to do it so I could go.”
“Even though the psychologist deemed you, and I quote,unfit for service.”
“Yup,” I over pronounce the P. I’m done having this guy scrutinize me, rubbing my shortcomings in my face. “Why does any of that matter, anyway? I’m not staying here and I’m not leaving either.” With every word I speak, my voice gets louder, until I downright yell in his face, “I’m not a threat, so there is no reason to pick apart my life like it’s a fucking reality TV show.”
