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“Yeah, I guess so,” she replies unconvincingly.
The house looms over us as I search out a reason, something, anything.
“We’ve been out together all afternoon, so maybe they’re doing something similar, a team-building exercise or whatever,” I offer, linking our arms together and heading down the stone steps.
I need to get out from under the oppressive feel of the building, the prickle of someone watching us as we stand alone in the cold creeping along my neck unnerving.
“Yeah, maybe,” she replies as I do my best to push the panic down.
“Why don’t we head back and get everything finalised for Saturday night? Maybe those beads you were waiting for have arrived?” I offer.
At this point, I’d do or say anything to get us away from the foreboding silence and the concern that swirls in my gut. Sure, they could all be at a team-building exercise, maybe they went paintballing or axe throwing or something, but what if they didn’t?
“Yeah, the beads were due today.” She repeats the words almost on autopilot as we head around the building and back towards our house, our now empty SUVs coming back in the opposite direction.
It’s lucky really that it’s not throwing it down, considering that not a single one of them slowed down, never mind stopping to offer us any help, we’d be out here getting soaked if it was. A cold wind whips around us as we turn the corner, the tumultuous breeze not far off the spin that’s going on in my stomach.
Tamsin is doing a better job of tamping down that panic that was so close to tumbling out as we arrive at the pool house, sliding her shoes, and the concern, off at the door as she picks up the parcel.
“This must be them,” she says as she worries her bottom lip
Together, we head straight for the kitchen, grabbing the scissors as she peels the paper back. The delicate beads glisten, even in the rubbish lighting in here, and she smiles, opening the boxes to check them out individually before we head back to our bedroom.
Silently, I sit on the edge of my bed and watch as she sets about her preparations, pulling out the design books and draping them over the bed. The fabric comes next, already cut, sewn and sized to absolute perfection, and then, the sewing kit.
This isn’t going to be something you can do on a machine. No, this is going to be hours of tireless labour, the perfect way to ignore what is potentially happening in or around the huge building that looms over ours, its presence as forboding as the men who live within its walls.
“Do you need some help?” I ask, knowing this is a very personal project and perhaps this is something she’d prefer to tackle alone.
“There’s no way I can get this done without a little help from a friend,” she replies, an anxious smile on her face. “Get your ass over here.”
We place our phones on the desk, close enough to hear but far enough away to avoid checking on them twenty times a minute. A thought flickers through my mind—maybe there’s something worrying going on with Ruby’s man, friend, whatever…
I have my own men, friends, whatever to worry about right now, and a friend who needs my help. Anything else can wait.
TWELVE
NICK
Adoor slams somewhere, and all the laughter dies, ears pricking up as our gazes search down the side of the warehouse. The last time that happened, Wyatt and Jacob came tumbling out like little lost lambs, and yet, there’s no one to be seen.
“Hello?” Jasper calls, the sound echoing around the building but giving no indication as to where it’s coming from.
“Yo, Jasper. We’re round here, man,” Taylor calls out excitedly as we all jump up from our seats. “I knew he had this in the bag,” he whispers before heading off at a jog.
“Sure he did,” Wyatt says quietly, clearly much less convinced than his roommate.
“Yeah, baby,” Taylor whoops and cheers, coming back with Jasper tucked under his arm, the same bewildered look on his face that Wyatt and Jacob had. I guess going from one to another, and then another does a bit of a number on your brain.
Oliver hands the guy a beer, Leo still hovering protectively near Jacob, when another door bangs closed. The security, who’s been silent and stoic the entire time stands to attention, standing straighter, quieter, almost sinking into the background completely as two masked men appear.
“Thank you for your time, gentlemen. Please leave your masks on until you arrive back at the house,” one of them says, loitering by the entrances to the escape rooms.
“Wait, that’s it?” Oliver asks in disbelief.
That was way too easy for it to be over. Well, for us, at least. Jasper looks like he’s been through hell and back.
He nods, the SUVs starting up beside him as one of the garage doors begins to peel upwards.
