I TRIED a few times to stand and approach the door, but when I nearly crashed to the floor on my third attempt, I waited until the dizziness in my head had faded. The last thing I needed was to approach Julius weakened and unable to defend myself if it became necessary.
It wasn’t until the daylight outside beamed with the full brightness of mid-day that I managed to take several experimental steps around the room without wobbling. I tested my newfound strength by changing from my blood smeared clothes which were stiff from drying on me after getting drenched by the rain, into a fresh pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from my tote bag.
When I felt confident enough in my ability to stay steady, I walked to the door. I clutched the handle with more confidence. Sure, my ribs hurt, and my wrist ached, but all of that was manageable pain.
Whatever needed to be done so I could get out of here, I’d make it happen.
I twisted the knob. It turned easily, no longer locked. Every nerve on the alert, I eased the door open.
The walls in this place must have been thick, because I’d only caught faint murmurs through them before, nothing I’d been able to decipher as words. The moment I peered into the wider room outside, a rush of sound washed over me.
It was an open-concept space, nothing but a kitchen island separating any part of it into specific zones. To my right, in the kitchen area, Julius was standing by a slim man with pale red hair who was talking animatedly while spinning his fork in a plate of spaghetti.
“But the size of that thing! It’s not just a snake, it’s a fucking green anaconda. Seventeen feet long! It’d eat you and a hundred snakes for breakfast.”
“You’ve got to stop watching those documentaries,” muttered another man who was standing beyond them by the stove. “Or at least quit it with the random fact regurgitation.” His pale, shaggy hair sparked a sense of recognition—he must be the one who’d talked to me last night at the crash scene after Julius.
At the same time, a dull thudding reverberated from the other side of the room, catching my attention next. A fourth man, his shaved head gleaming under the recessed lights and lean muscles flexing over every inch of his body, was slamming his fists into a dangling punching bag in rapid succession. He stepped back, bouncing on his toes, before going back in for the metaphorical kill. His technique impressed even me, and I’d been practicing all forms of combat my entire life.
His lean, sculpted physique spoke of years of training too. Not just strength but discipline. The sweat dampening his shirt emphasized those planes even more, and an errant thought slipped through my mind: What would it be like to run my fingers over those muscles?
A flicker of heat tingled over my skin, and I yanked myself back to reality. What was it about these guys that kept pulling my head in ridiculous directions? I had a job to do, and as far as I knew, all four of them stood in my way.
I stepped over the threshold, and the door I was still holding squeaked. The room fell silent in an instant. The three men in the kitchen turned toward me, even the redhead pausing with his spaghetti-laden fork halfway to his mouth. The man at the punching bag lowered his arms and turned my way with studied precision. For a second, I found myself pinned by his icy blue eyes, even from ten feet away.
“Dess,” Julius said, and my attention snapped to him. I kept tabs on the guy with the shaved head from the corner of my eye. Turning my back on any of these men felt like a dangerous game.
Julius smiled, subdued but warm, as if we were all friends here. Yeah, right. “How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“Better,” I admitted. That much would be obvious, considering I’d made it this far without tripping over my feet.
Should I ask to leave again? Apprehension held my tongue. They’d been careful about it, but it’d seemed pretty clear these guys didn’t really want to take me anywhere. Were they just run-of-the-mill pricks, or did they know something about me and maybe even the massacre at the household after all? I had no idea how much of the story Julius had given me I should believe.
If I acted like I was in a hurry to get out of here, they’d go on the defensive. Better for me to study them a little and get a better sense of what I was up against before I made my escape, especially when I had injuries slowing me down.
“It’s good to see you on your feet,” the redhead said with a grin, recovering his previous exuberance. “Dess is an interesting name. I don’t suppose you’ve got a last name too?”
I wasn’t sure why that mattered, but I had my alias all lined up anyway. “Parker,” I said briskly, and glanced around the room, the back of my neck prickling with the sense of having all four pairs of eyes still fixed on me. “You all know my name now, but I only know one of yours.”
Julius raised his eyebrows at the others. The first to speak was the man by the stove. He flicked on the burner under a kettle and turned toward me. “Garrison,” he said, raising a hand in greeting. Yes, that was definitely the voice I’d heard with the blond guy last night.
There was something unsettlingly perfect about his smile, as if he’d picked the exact right angle of his lips to convey friendly warmth. Maybe it was because the warmth he seemed to be conveying didn’t match the irritated tone he’d spoken to the redhead with just a minute ago. He’d made a similar switch in attitude last night, hadn’t he?
He looked to be the youngest of the bunch, early to mid-twenties if I had to guess, but there was something older in the steadiness of his gaze.
The redhead smiled too, but his grin was a little crooked and overwide, which made it feel more genuine. I figured he was in his twenties too, though closer to the other end. He glanced around at his companions. “I like her.” Then he met my eyes, his own dark ones sparkling with curiosity. “I’m Blaze, and he’s Talon,” he said, gesturing to the man who had been pounding the punching bag moments ago, who let out a grunt of acknowledgment.
Blaze. That’d be easy to remember with that hair, which fell past his ears, nearly long enough that he could have pulled it into a ponytail. And Talon… I couldn’t think of a name more fitting for a man who looked built for mowing people down.
Julius had mentioned time in the army. The younger guys didn’t look military-fit, but Talon was. Had he and Julius served together, maybe? The shaved head made it harder to tell, but I thought they were about the same age.
I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with the lives of regular people, but it was a little odd for all four of them to be here in this apartment together, wasn’t it? I took another careful step forward, putting on a smile of my own as if I was relaxing into their company. If I seemed to let down my guard, they’d be more likely to let down theirs.
“Julius mentioned that you’re all friends,” I said. “And roommates too, I guess? Or are you family or something?”
I doubted the latter, considering how different they all were in coloring and build, but it was a way to frame the question without outright asking, Who the fuck are you and is this an attempted kidnapping?
Well, maybe not just attempted considering I was here in their apartment with no definite way out. My gaze flicked briefly over to the windows. The one near the punching bag and another in the kitchen area were as high as the one in my bedroom, but big enough that I thought I could leap through one pretty easily… if I got the chance.
“We’re kind of both,” Blaze said, still grinning. “And we work together too.”
Huh. “What kind of work?” I asked in a getting-to-know-you sort of tone.
“Landscaping,” Julius said smoothly, and Blaze snorted as if something about that answer was funny.
“We’re very good at it too,” Garrison said, giving Blaze’s stool a teasing kick. “Every place we work on we leave looking much better than before we got there.”
I took in the amusement now dancing in Blaze’s eyes and the other men’s impenetrable expressions and wondered what the joke was. But at the same time, I couldn’t help noticing how easily they interacted, building off each other’s responses, even Talon nodding at Julius’s statement. I didn’t see that kind of camaraderie often.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt it with another person myself. Even with Noelle, who I’d spent way more time with than anyone else, I’d always been tense around her, driven by the need to meet her expectations and the wariness of what would happen if I didn’t.
No, she and I had never been friends. I’d trusted her with my life, but I’d still had my guard up, presenting myself the way I knew she’d want.
Would I ever get a chance to work with a team like this now that everyone who’d had a hand in raising me was gone?
An unexpected twinge ran through my gut. I swallowed hard, willing the bloody memories of the carnage away.
“I hope that taking care of me hasn’t interfered with your work,” I said, putting out another feeler to test their reaction. “I wouldn’t want my stupid accident getting in the way of your job.”
Julius waved his hand dismissively with the same assurance he’d had from the first moment I’d smacked into him. “It’s no problem. We’re on our weekend right now.”
He was obviously the leader. The others followed his cues.
I tapped my lips. “Right. That’s why you were out last night when you saw me get that fender bender. Where were you going?” Julius had already told me there’d been a party, but I wanted to see if his story would stay straight.
Talon moved closer with controlled strides that were closer to a prowl. He frowned as he reached me, his shoulders squaring and his cool eyes flashing. It was obvious what his role in the group was: the intimidator.
“I’d like to know what you were doing in that part of town,” he said.
If he thought I was going to cower in the face of his flex of power, he had the wrong woman. I raised my chin and stared straight back at him. “I’m pretty sure I asked you that question first.”
His voice lowered into something closer to a growl. “A lot of shady shit happens in that neighborhood. You’re in our apartment—I think we have a right to know what we’ve dragged in here, even if you needed the help.”
I bit back a snappy retort about how I hadn’t asked for their help, and in fact I’d told them to leave me the hell alone. If they didn’t know why I’d been driving that way, did that mean they didn’t know where I’d come from either? Was it the cash and the jewelry they’d spotted on me that’d made them bring me here, and nothing more than that?
Julius had seemed to indicate that he was accepting my story. Maybe he would let me walk out of here if I said I wanted to.
Before I could decide on my response, Garrison walked over almost close enough to touch me, bringing a whiff of cinnamon and musk with him. “Okay, enough badgering her, Talon. She’s been through some shit. Cut her a break.” He turned to me. “Don’t mind him. He gets a little overprotective of our space. I’m making hot chocolate—would you like some?”
Hot chocolate? An eager jolt ran through me so abruptly that it took all my effort to suppress my outward reaction. My mouth was watering in an instant.
I’d actually never tasted the beverage before, but my favorite part of every birthday was the chocolate bar that Anna would bring alongside my dinner. That was the only time Noelle had approved of the treat, saying it was all empty calories. And these guys had it lying around their apartment, just casually downing a cup of it here and there like it was no big deal.
“I would,” I said, schooling my voice into a neutral tone. Might as well get one benefit out of this crazy situation. “Thank you.”
Garrison went back to the stove. He set out a second mug, sprinkled a packet of powder into it, and poured boiling water from the kettle to prepare my liquid gold. Blaze beckoned me over to the stool across from him, which wasn’t especially close to any of them and should allow me to keep all of them in sight.
I hesitated for a second and then walked over to take it. Better there than staying beside Talon the guard dog.
Even if that guard dog came with the most impressive set of muscles I’d ever laid eyes on.
I told that part of my mind to shut up and perched on the stool. Garrison poured a dollop of cream into both mugs and then set them on the island, one a little closer to me. He raised his to his lips, watching me through the rising steam. “It’s just instant stuff, nothing fancy, but I like this brand.”
As if I cared about fancy. It was chocolate—I was already sold.
It took all of my self-control not to shoot forward and chug the scolding liquid. Instead, with purposeful control, I curled my fingers around the handle and raised the mug as slowly as Garrison had.
My first sip nipped my tongue with a burning sensation, but the rich, nutty sweetness smoothed out the pain in an instant. Fucking hell, it tasted like heaven.
“Is it good?” Garrison asked with a glint in his hazel eyes that suggested he could already tell just how much I was enjoying it.
“It’s great,” I said, restraining my enthusiasm, and allowed myself a larger swallow. Some small piece of me asked in a very tiny voice whether it would really be so bad to hang out with these guys a while longer, especially if I could talk them into sharing several more mugs like this with me, and I told it to shut up too.
Talon ambled over, his gaze shooting daggers at Garrison. “Now that you have some fucking hot chocolate, do you plan on answering some of our questions?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, watching for his reaction. “I never asked you to bring me here. I don’t think I owe you anything.”
He scowled. “I think you owe us a little more of an explanation after we saved your ass.”
Garrison clucked his tongue chidingly and shot me a conspiratorial smile. My hackles automatically went up again. Did he think he’d won me over just because I was enjoying what he’d poured in this mug?
“What I think my friend here meant to say,” he drawled in a teasing tone, “is that we want to make sure you’re not in any danger right now. Julius says your stash of money and jewelry came from a boyfriend? Is he likely to be out there searching for you?”
My non-existent boyfriend would probably have run screaming at the sight of just Talon’s glare, but I wasn’t going to prop up the guy’s ego by saying so. I sipped my hot chocolate, distracted by a momentary swoon. A weakness, maybe. Delicious? Absolutely.
“Nah,” I said, putting on a shudder as if remembering something that bothered me. “He liked to push me around when I was there, but he’s probably too high to get much past the front door.” I cut my gaze to Talon. “Yes, it’s a bad fucking neighborhood. I grew up there. Is that a crime now?”
Often with assholes the best way to get what you wanted was to put them on the defensive. They weren’t used to it. And the truth was, I felt more at ease talking to Talon with his body carved out of muscle and snarling face than Garrison with his kindness I couldn’t help being suspicious of. At least with the guard dog, I knew where I stood.
“It’s pretty strange that you don’t have anyone at all you need us to call,” Talon said, seeming unfazed. “No family? No job? All you’ve got is this man of yours?”
I bit my lip. I might not have any experience with romantic relationships, but I had plenty of grief and horror to draw on thanks to last night’s events. “That’s all he let me have,” I said in a small voice, as if ashamed.
“You really need to let up on her,” Garrison said to Talon, swatting at him, and turned back to me with a gentler expression. “The guy sounds like a total prick. Is it because of him that you’ve got all those scars?”
All those scars. A shiver traveled down my spine. “How do you know I have scars?”
I already knew the answer. They must have looked me over—including under my clothes—while I was unconscious. Had they touched me?
But somehow Garrison managed to look even more horrified than I felt. “Oh, God, don’t get the wrong idea! While we were carrying you in, your shirt rode up a little, that’s all. It was hard not to notice them.”
For real? I couldn’t put my finger on anything, but something about his demeanor kept rubbing me just a smidge the wrong way.
“Just answer the question,” Talon snapped.
“Why?” I asked with the sudden sense I was being interrogated. The questions were starting to go beyond what anyone would be concerned about with a stranger who’d theoretically be walking out of their lives any minute now. “I already told you that you don’t have anything to worry about. It’s not like anyone even knows I’m here.”
Which was the point, wasn’t it? Why were all of them so intent on questioning me in their own ways? Sure, they may have been concerned about who they brought into their home, but if they’d actually been worried, they could have kicked me out right now. They could have dropped me at the hospital despite my original protests.
Unless they thought I’d done something worse than steal some crap from an abusive boyfriend. The massacre at the household must be all over the news by now. Had they realized I’d been coming from that direction, wondered about the blood on my shirt and my loot because of that?
Did they think I’d committed the murders?
