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Chapter 12

Addie

Outside of an old farmhouse, we found a large silver van that would fit all of us comfortably. Despite the obvious age, the house was in relatively good condition with a fresh coat of paint and neatly trimmed hedges.

“Wait at the end of the driveway,” Fallon instructed. “I’ll talk to the owner about buying the car from him.”

The boys all agreed immediately, even Tommy. It seemed as if my young friend had fully accepted Fallon as the leader.

I held up my hand like a schoolchild waiting to get called upon. Fallon let out an exasperated groan.

“Yes, Adelaide?”

“Don’t you think I should go with you?” I asked. “I mean, you’re a scary motherfucker, and I’m a sweet, innocent girl.”

Calax, beside me, snorted at the adjectives I used to describe myself. He could take his snort and shove it up his ass.

Fallon opened his mouth, to no doubt protest, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

“Don’t argue with me. You’ll scare the crap out of them before we can even ask about the car. Besides, you know the saying: two is better than one.”

Once again, Fallon rolled his eyes at my cheesy quote. I wanted to hit him. My reasoning was sound, and he was just being overprotective. I would be the first to admit that the whole Alpha male thing was attractive, but it was also immensely annoying. I couldn’t even pee without someone in hearing distance. Freaking pee. Do you know how awkward it is to have your sort-of boyfriend listening to you tinkle?

“Where did your mind go?” Fallon asked, now sounding amused.

“I was thinking about pee,” I said before I could stop myself.

Cue seven simultaneous groans. Only Tommy, my new best friend, didn’t stare at me like an imbecile.

“Fine,” Fallon said, changing the subject from bodily fluids. “You can come.”

I let out an excited whoop complete with a handclap and a little jig. And these boys think I’m childish? Grown ass mature woman right here.

Skipping up the long driveway, I admired the carefully planted tulips creating an aperture towards the door. The sloping roof was held up by two white pillars, and the wooden porch was wrapped around the entire building.

Fallon gave me a pointed look as I jumped up the small staircase.

Don’t do or say anything stupid.

In response, I stuck my tongue out at him. He who had so little faith in me rang the doorbell, and the two of us waited impatiently. The first thing I heard was the shuffling of footsteps, and then I saw the front curtain being pulled back slightly. I barely caught a glimpse of a blue eye before the curtain fell back into the place.

In agonizing slowness, the locks of the door snapped open.

I found myself staring down the barrel of a shotgun.

Well...shit. That wasn’t what I was expecting.

The man behind the shotgun was old, probably in his mid-sixties if I had to guess. His white hair was receding at the top showcasing his bald, shiny head. His face was covered in wrinkles, but his blue eyes were surprisingly sharp as they locked onto my face.

“What do you want?” he asked. I noticed that he didn’t release the deadbolt. How many locks did this man have on his door?

It was Fallon that spoke, his voice placating, despite the question being directed at me.

“We just want to talk.”

“Get the hell off my property,” the man hissed.

I would’ve responded, I would’ve tried to appease the tension, but there was a fucking gun pressed to my forehead. Not really conversation material.