AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She can stay with Jagger and me. She won’t get away from us.”
Again, I expect her to protest, but she says nothing as she lifts her head. Ironically, it’s her silence that makes me more wary than before, when she was hissing and spitting like a pissed-off cat.
“You sure?” Zig looks from me to Jagger, who shrugs.
“I’m game. I always wanted a pet.”
Astrid’s face pales, but she says nothing. Though I don’t necessarily like scaring women, if I think fear will keep her from doing something reckless, then I’m not above using it.
“Jesus Christ, guys, rein it in a little. You’re scaring her,” Greg snaps.
“Good. She should be scared. Because if she’s come here to hurt Salem, then there is nothing she can do or a place she can hide where we won’t hunt her down,” I state.
The room goes quiet. Threatening females goes against the grain for all of us, but we know what’s at stake here. We won’t hurt her. She just doesn’t need to know that. Greg looks at me and shakes his head. I can see he wants to step in and say something else, but Zig gets the final word.
“Go and get her settled. Impress upon our guest how important it is for her to follow the rules while she’s here.” He says the word guest the same way he might say hostage.
I fight back a grin and offer him a nod before walking over to Astrid and looking down at her. “Let’s go.”
She doesn’t stand up, but she lifts her head and looks up at me.I expect her gaze to be hostile, or at least fearful. But when I stare into her eyes, I see nothing. It’s as if the lights are on but nobody’s home. I swallow, not liking how it affects me. To cover my unease, I wrap my hand around her bicep and tug her to her feet.
Jagger looks at me with a cocked eyebrow. “So how is this going to work?” he asks quietly as I pull her out of the room onto the deck.
“Simple. We watch her until we can prove her story one way or another.”
“I meant, where’s she gonna sleep?” he says dryly.
“She can take your room. We’ll rotate watching her. I have a feeling whoever stays with her won’t get much sleep because the second we close our eyes, she’ll run.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s hard to run with handcuffs on your wrists.”
She stumbles at Jagger’s words but still says nothing. I’m not gonna lie, it’s beginning to piss me off. I look at Jagger, who shrugs.
“Tough girl, huh? Let’s see how tough you feel after a few days with us.”
CHAPTER THREE
Astrid
I keep my mouth shut as I let Dickhead One and Dickhead Two lead me outside to one of the smaller buildings out back. I look around subtly, not wanting them to think I’m checking everything out. But of course, I am. The second I see an opening, I’m taking it. I’m so over doing the right thing and being the better person. It doesn’t get me anything but heartache and grief. It’s not like I didn’t expect their suspiciousness, but this is taking things too far.
The large building we’re leaving seems to be where most of them gather. The rest of the buildings scattered around look like small homes. If the building materials and equipment I see are anything to go by, I can guess that the extra housing is new. I wonder what they all did before. And if they lived off-site, why did they all decide to change that now? For Salem, perhaps? I’d feel a little green with envy if they weren’t all such fucking psychos.
We stop at a building that’s a little farther back than the others. It’s a smaller replica of the main house and smells like new wood and fresh paint. I wait while Jagger opens the door and stands back so Slade can usher me inside. Stepping into the open-plan living area, I’m thankful that it doesn’t have that murder-cabin vibe. As much as I’ve dreamed over the years of swapping my life with a heroine from one of my beloved books, it would be just my luck to find myself in a horror story, making stupid decisions like running upstairs in my underwear with a killer hot on my heels.
A cough breaks me out of my wayward thoughts, something my brain tends to do when I’m in situations that make me nervous. I might not be able to leave, but I can let my mind drift away. It’s something I’ve done since I was a kid.
The room is light and airy, with pale sage walls and light oak floors that run throughout the space. But there is a distinct, unused feel to it. I can tell they live here—I can smell hints of their aftershave, and there is a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter—but it’s void of all the little things that make a house a home.
The sitting area has a dark charcoal sectional sofa that contrasts well with the paint color, and the nubby area rug makes the room feel cozy and warm. A large ottoman with a magazine tossed on top of it sits just in front of the sofa, ready for when people want to kick back and watch movies on the large television mounted on the wall opposite the sofa.
On the other side of the room, there is a small dining table with chairs in the same light oak as the floor. The tabletop is made of a dark, almost burnt-looking piece of driftwood, with edges that look as if they have been smoothed over time from being thrown around in the ocean.
The kitchen area at the far back of the room has white, glossy cupboards and dark wooden counters stained the same color as the tabletop, while the kitchen island is all white and has four tall high-back chairs upholstered in a charcoal suede that matches the sofa.
“This is where you’ll be staying. If you need anything, tell us, and we’ll see about getting it for you,” Jagger tells me, coming up from behind me and acting hospitable all of a sudden.
“I’ll take a carving knife, a gun, and my freedom, please.”
