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“She’s my prisoner,” the horseman explains.

I grimace into my mug. The statement rings decidedly untrue to my ears.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what do you plan on doing with her?” Rob asks the question pleasantly enough, but I can tell he’s ready to throw Pestilence out if given the wrong answer.

I squeeze my cup a little tighter. I hadn’t expected strangers to care about me, especially ones who are actually eager to host a horseman.

“I’m keeping her,” Pestilence says.

Again, thatlookfrom the horseman. My stomach bottoms out, and I try to tell myself that it’s dread, but I can’t fool myself.

You’re anticipating what’s to come, Burns.

Neither Ruth nor Rob object to Pestilence’s answer, but I can see that it bothers them. Had I tried to kill a human—well, we have justice systems that deal with those sorts of crimes. But to punish me by keeping me prisoner … that’s just not done.

The horseman pushes his chair back and stands. “I need to attend to my steed. Entertain yourselves in my absence.”

Said like he’s the fucking king of the castle and not what the cat dragged in.

Without another word, he stalks out of the house. In his absence, the kitchen falls very, very silent.

Finally, “Are you okay dear?” Ruth asks.

I rub my thumb over the edge of the mug. “Yeah, I am.” I glance up. “I mean, it’s all relative at this point, but I’m not dead, and that’s more than can be said for everyone else.” My voice breaks. It doesn’t escape me that I’m sitting at a table with two more of Pestilence’s victims.

Ruth leans forward to place one of her hands over mine. She gives it a squeeze. “You’re going to be just fine,” she reassures me.

I didn’t know that I needed to hear those words until I feel my eyes prick. I nod at her, drawing strength from what she said.

Wrong to be taking her kindness and courage when she’s the one who truly needs it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper hoarsely. “About … everything.” I’m apologizing for more than just crashing into Rob and Ruth’s lives alongside Pestilence. I’m apologizing for all those families whose lives we upended. I’m apologizing for failing to finish off the horseman, for nowlikingthe monster. I’m apologizing for every little wrong, fucked up thing that’s happened since God decided it was time for us all to pay the piper.

Rob waves a hand away. “We received evacuation orders. We knew what staying meant,” he says, trying to absolve me of guilt.

“The horseman,” Ruth begins, “he’s not …” she searches for the right words, “forcingyou to do anything against your will, is he?”

Rape, she means. She’s worried he’s been raping me.

“No—no,” I rush to say. Pestilence might be brutal, but he’s also gallant, in his own odd way. He’d sooner cut off his own hand than take me against my will. “He doesn’t really think like that,” I admit. “His understanding of human nature is limited to what he’s seen from his travels and from what he’s learned from me.”

But is that really true? There’s so much I still don’t know about him.

“If you don’t mind me speaking bluntly,” Ruth says, “the horseman might say that you’re his prisoner, but he doesn’t treat you like one.”

My breath catches in my throat. I don’t want to hear her next words.

“He treats you like … well, like he’s interested in you.”

My stomach tightens uncomfortably. “I know,” I say quietly. I don’t have the balls to admit that the interest isn’t just one-sided.

Just then, the front door opens, and Pestilence strides back in. His eyes find mine immediately, and there’s such naked longing in them.

When did we go from hating each other tothis?

He takes a seat next to me, pulling his chair close to mine. “Are you hungry?” he asks, all his attention focused on me.

“I’m fine.”