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Bailey
Augustine points eastward and I track the line skyward.
Dark clouds previously hidden by the night sky stand out against the brightening morning.
“Fuck,” I murmur and do a quick calculation. Not about outrunning the storm but about getting something like a solid door between me and them before they catch me. From there I can formulate another plan to get out of here as soon as I find something to put on my feet.
I dash for the porch and don’t stop until I’m blow by the living room, diving room. I skid to a stop in the kitchen and grab a knife on my way to the back where I spot an open door.
Only I don’t see the cut out in the wall or the muscled chest before I smack into it face first.
“Darius.”
“Bailey. Put the knife down. What did I tell you I would do if you tried running again?”
He stalks forward, voice pitched low and the wicked intent glimmering in his dark eyes. His lips pull into a tight, white line and the crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes say he’s not playing around.
He steps in and tries for the knife, but I dodge left and bring the blade up, slicing into his forearm. He and Augustine can have matching scars now.
“You’re going to pay for that repeatedly.”
“Catch me first.”
I flip the blade just like my self-defense instructor taught me and draw blood across his other forearm.
Instead of lunging for me, Darius keeps walking us backward. I have no choice but to either stab him or retreat. I am not a killer so I take a step back for every one he takes forward. Every light in the cabin is on so I can see the ire pulling at his shoulders. It’s also in the way he walks. Every time he lifts a foot and moves in my direction his anger cranks up another notch.
“Grab the rope, Vi.”
My head snaps around. “Shit!” Darius kept my attention on him and I missed the other two ganging up on me.
Vi grabs me by the shoulders, and Darius pulls the knife out of my hand. His cock is hard between us and I swear if this was a different situation and I didn’t suffer from a major case of distrust I wouldn’t be fighting right now. Victor would have carried me to his bed and I would either be snuggled into his arms asleep in his bed or he would be undressing me in a hot shower with his friends. I felt his arousal on the plane and the entire ride up the mountain.
But that is not the case and my trust issues are as long and wide as the Grand Canyon. So, here we are. I’m thrown over a shoulder and plopped down on a large dining room table before I can fight back.
Rope winds around my wrists and my feet. I struggle but with three of them against one of me, it’s inevitable they get what they want.
Darius leans over me, his nose a whisper away from mine.
“What did I tell you?”
Bitter acid washes against my insides and the fumes of hurt cling to my words when I speak. “I quote, ‘Things have changed. He misses you,’ end quote. Good one. It got me here with little resistance and now that you saved me you will use me for something grander. What are you going to blackmail my father with? My head or something with more value? Something he wouldn’t give you otherwise? His crown, maybe?”
“We don’t need his kingdom. We need answers.”
“Answers only you have.” Victor finishes the last of the knots. I test them, pulling and kicking but there's little give.
“I see you got the knot badge before they kicked you out of the Boy Scouts. Unless there was a summer school for the kids of assassins.”
His crooked grin makes him look handsome. The son-of-a-bitch.
I turn back to Darius who slowly peels off his shirt.
I choke on my tongue when it threatens to fall into the back of my throat.
Black, red, and gray scale ink cover most of his chest. Everything from roses, skulls and the almost obligatory snakes drape over the expanse of his chest and abdomen. But it’s the large words: TRUST, LOYALTY AND BLOOD engraved in his skin that have me laughing.
I pin my eyes to the rafters. I keep my mouth shut and take in the large cabin. It has a high A frame ceiling. Elegant and costly too. It’s not some shaggy place in the middle of nowhere no matter how much I want to make it out as a murder site.
