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“Shut it, smart ass,” she snaps, and I chuckle seeing her face flush with anger. “Who’re you talking to?”
“Reed’s planning my funeral for when you kill me in my sleep.” I grin at her. She puts her hands on her hips and glowers at me, and I have to fight back the laughter because she reminds me of an angry puppy.
“Stick him in a box in a fire, Reed,” she shouts, and he bursts out laughing.
“Good luck with that one, bro,” he says with a chuckle, and then cuts the call off.
I put it back in my pocket, watching closely as Shadow’s eyes track my movements. I head into the kitchen to where I left the bottle of Jack, raising a glass in offering, and she curls her lip up in disgust.
“Sorry, M’lady, would you prefer some wine?” I jest as I pour myself a drink. Everyone looked at me weird when I was younger for having Jack without a mixer, but I love the way it burns my throat before it hits my stomach.
“Why the fuck would your brother and his crazy bitch buy me?” she demands, heading in my direction and grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the shelf. She pours herself a drink and I watch, mesmerized, as she throws it back in one.
“Because they’re keeping you out of a trafficking ring that Bowers planned on selling you to,” I blurt the explanation, if I could slap myself without looking like a weirdo, I would.
“What are you on about?” She pours another drink and I have to admit, I feel a little relief at the fact she is not cussing me out anymore. Maybe I can get her to admit she likes me.
“I guess the golden boy isn’t as nice as you originally thought. They were planning on selling you to traffickers that have slave rings all over the place,” I growl at the thought of her ending up in one of those places. Over my dead body will anything like that ever happen to her or anyone I care about. “I’m not sure if your dad knew, but, honestly, I know what he does to you and I wouldn’t be surprised with an asshole like that.”
“You sound like you’ve had some experience?” she asks, taking a seat at the island.
“You could say that,” I shrug, and my stomach rolls as the past tries to come to the surface again. “I didn’t grow up like my brother or most of you here, but it is what it is. I survived, just like you have.”
“Just because I haven’t tried to stab you yet doesn’t mean were friends,” she snaps, and I smile. “Now get your crazy ass brother over here and let me out.”
“You really think I could get him to do something he doesn’t want to do?” I ask with a chuckle. She looks at me, puzzled, and I laugh out loud. “The thing with Frost is, he always does things for a reason, and everyone else is left stumbling around in the dark until they figure it out.” I pour another drink and offer her a refill, but she wiggles her bottle at me. “Look, we’re stuck in here until they decide it’s been long enough, so we can either get on or kill each other. But I have a better idea on what we could be doing.”
“Oh, please do enlighten me,” she sasses.
“I can show you that you screaming my name isn’t a fluke,” I purr, looking down the hall to where my bedroom is. Well, the one that isn’t used that often. Her gaze follows mine as she looks down the hallway, puzzled, and I smile as her cheeks tinge pink.
It’s like something washes over her and she loses it. I manage to duck in time as the glass explodes behind me on the tiled flooring.
“I don’t want to fuck you ever again,” she snaps.
“We’ll see about that,” I say with a chuckle as I head toward my bedroom. “Pick any of the rooms, I’ll find some sleep stuff for you.”
I don’t give her a chance to answer as I disappear into my room and shut the door behind me. I grab some of my stuff out of the wardrobe and head to my door, dropping the pile out in the hallway for her to find. I lock the door, and climb onto my bed, turning on Netflix. Looks like it’s a movie night for me tonight. God, how sad is it that the girl I want is in my house and I’m about to watch something on my own? My phone rings and I check the name. Oh fuck! I answer, putting the phone on speaker.
“She tried to off you yet?” Bo’s laugh makes the line crackle.
“Glad you find it funny, but no,” I admit, and the line goes quiet.
“What d’you mean no?” she asks, the laughter no longer there. “She hasn’t tried to dig her way out yet?”
“No, she cussed out Frost and the guys, but after I explained why you did it, she seemed to relax,” I say, a sense of unease washing over me. Raucous laughter comes down the line, like a melody, she must have me on speaker because I can hear all the guys laughing their asses off too. “Hearing y’all laughing like this doesn’t fill me with much hope.”
“Oh, it’s coming,” Bo cackles. “She yelled at me when I tried to help her in the back of the truck. I’ll give her that one,” she says with a menacing tone, “But make this clear, if she ever does that again, I won’t hesitate.”
“Got it.” There’s a huge crash from downstairs and I take off running, I end the call without a goodbye to her or the others.
I take the stairs two at a time, sliding across the tiled floor in my socks. My eyes widen when I see her swing the stool again at another window, and the smash echoes around the room, the glass making its own musical melody as it bounces on the floor.
“Shadow,” I shout her name, she doesn’t answer or turn to look at me as she swings at the next window. I wince as more glass breaks, staring wide-eyed as she screams when the stool smashes into the metal shutters with ferocity. She’s like a wild animal that’s been caught for the first time with the overwhelming urge to get free, no matter what. An empty bottle of whiskey rolls across the floor from under her feet. My eyes dart to it and then back up. I narrow my gaze at her, taking in her movements. They’re sloppy and she’s swaying on her feet, I didn’t notice before, but it’s taking a lot of effort for her to lift the stool to swing it.
15
SAM
