Page 18

Chapter Eighteen

T he guys take turns carrying me for the rest of the day, even when I try to get down and walk, they are having none of it. Eventually, I just give in and let them coddle me, deciding my sore feet could use the break they are offering. After we hike through the woods for the better part of the day we abruptly come to a stop at the edge of an old, cracked, single lane road. It is here that Hunter puts me back on my feet and we cautiously follow him along the asphalt. Nate stays between me and the trees and Chase follows behind us.

After just a few miles of walking along the road Hunter abruptly swings into an overgrown drive, fighting his way through the weeds and shrubs that have sprouted in the absence of cars, and quickly disappearing from sight. I hesitate only slightly before following the sounds of his bulk moving through the thickly tangled undergrowth, Chase and Nate follow behind me in single file.

I struggle around a bend in the obnoxiously long driveway and stop with a gasp at the sight before me. It’s a house, no wait, scratch that. It’s a bloody mansion. The sandstone monster is two stories high and sprawls across an acre or more of what I’m sure would have been perfectly maintained lawn before the apocalypse, but now just looks like an inviting meadow, complete with tall grass and different coloured flowers. All of this is locked securely behind its imposing fence. But maybe fence is too underwhelming a word to use because the gate we come up to is a huge seven-foot wrought iron monstrosity with dancing deer worked into its design that flows seamlessly out into the surrounding infrastructure built of ornate iron spikes and sandstone columns that run the entire circumference of the house and its pretty meadow, keeping the looming forest at bay. The whole place screams money and things worth protecting and I have to physically reach up and shut my own mouth.

To my utter astonishment Hunter pulls a little key from his pocket and fits it snugly into the lock for the small side gate I hadn’t noticed, tucked up against the dancing deer behemoth. It clicks obediently and glides open on quiet hinges. A rattle draws my attention and I see a string with a can attached to it at the bottom of the gate and I peer at it curiously as the opening gate pulls the can towards the bars of the deer gate, stopping just short of making a large clang as Hunter maneuvers himself through the small gap. I’m hustled through next by Nate and when Chase brings up the rear, just managing to squeeze his massive frame through, Nate uses a long stick to slowly poke the can back into its hiding spot as Hunter locks the gate behind us. All of a sudden, a little late I suppose, it hits me that these guys have been here before. A lot by the look of it. Holy shit, am I about to meet the rest of their group?! Is this where they have them hidden? Because honestly, it’s a pretty good spot to stash someone, or a couple of someone’s, while you gallivant around the country side saving random girls from devious would-be overlords . And I’m rambling again. But the prospect of meeting the rest of the guys group terrifies me. What if they hate me? What if I hate them? What if they’re just like Jacob and want me for breeding? All these thoughts have me a little jittery as we creep up the pathway to the front door and I draw in a breath to ask Chase, who’s the closest to me at this moment, what this place is. But he places his finger over his lips then brings his two fingers up to point at his eyes and then around the clearing. Signaling, I think, that I need to be quiet and watchful. I’m so good at reading these finger gestures I should have been in the army, I swear . I respond to Chase with the appropriate one fingered salute and it makes him grin at me. I give him a goofy smile back, completely forgetting the freak out I was just having about meeting the rest of their group.

When we reach the front door Nate holds me back with an arm across my chest as Hunter and Chase enter side by side, Hunter having produced another key and silently unlocked this one too. I wait impatiently as they stalk into the house, guns up. I guess it’s pretty unlikely the rest of their group is here if this is how they greet them, then. I can’t help fidgeting as I wait for the two of them to return. I flick a glance at Nate after a few minutes but he’s busy scanning the surrounding forest. He doesn’t seem concerned it’s taking them fucking ages though, so I try to be patient too.

What feels like an eternity later, a low whistle sounds through the open door and Nate gestures for me to head in with a knowing smirk on his stupid, handsome face. Surely my worry for the other two hadn’t been that obvious . I give him the stink eye just in case as I breeze by him and he responds with a light smack to my butt that makes me jump forward. I come to an abrupt halt as my eyes try to take everything in at once. The perfect cream walls, the marble floors ( like, what the fuck, who even has marble freaking floors?!), the ostentatious artwork plastered around every surface and, of course, the glittering monstrosity of a chandelier hanging like a cloud over the large foyer space. On the opposite side from me a breathtaking curved staircase leads to the upper floor, the stairs marble with a cream rug spilling down the middle. Everything is cream and gold . Everything. There was clearly a color scheme and the previous occupants of this house stuck to it like dirt on literally any surface in this house . And everything is glaringly, painfully expensive. I immediately feel uncomfortable here, I want to turn around and camp in the meadow outside. For all its space and splendour this house makes me feel claustrophobic. And it’s so neat. It’s as if the apocalypse has never entered here, never dared to touch the cream and gold décor . Well, except for the two large, armed, dirty men striding around as if they’ve lived here their whole lives . Just then Nate pushes in behind me, gently slipping around me before prowling down one of the corridors leading off the foyer. Make that three large, armed, dirty men then. And little old dumb struck me .

I physically and mentally give myself a little shake and force myself to move a few more steps into the imposing foyer. Once I get myself to the middle of the room I pause, entirely unsure where to go or what to do with myself in this grand space. Hunter enters the foyer again, back from whatever mission he was on and catches my eye on his way past. He grins at my dumbstruck look. He spreads his arms wide and gestures around the foyer.

“Welcome to our cabin in the woods, sweetheart.”

I make a horrible sound, somewhere between a choke and a snort of disbelief, which makes Hunter chuckle. Which in turn causes me to stare and try not to faint. Hunter’s chuckle is like sin personified, all dark and raspy and suddenly the room just got really, really hot.

It takes only a moment for Hunter to feel my change in awareness it seems, because his chuckle tapers off and he fixes me with an impossibly dark look as he prowls slowly toward me across the pristine marble floor. My heart rate ratchets up to a million and I can’t get enough air in as I get trapped by his hooded gaze. I’m frozen to the spot as his big body crowds into my space and he lowers his head, seeming to breathe me in for a moment.

“Hey, Angel! Do you want a tour of the house?” Chase’s loud voice sounds from one of the corridors and after the quiet walk here and the tension that seems to have grown between me and Hunter, I nearly fall flat on my ass as I jump away from Hunter. Like I was doing something naughty and nearly got caught. Hunter steadies me with a hand on my arm and turns to growl at Chase, who wisely takes a step back and puts his hands up in defence.

“Oh shit, sorry did I interrupt something?” he actually looks contrite for about two seconds before a sly smirk curves his lips and he adds “Please, don’t stop on my account, just pretend I’m not here.”

He then proceeds to whistle. Loudly. While staring at Hunter who still hasn’t let go of my arm.

Yep, this tension is a bit much for my broken soul and I duck away from Hunter’s hold, squeaking out that I will go explore upstairs now but I’ll call if I need them and thanks, bye!

I quickly scuttle my way over to the cream carpeted stairs and drop my pack at the bottom. I keep my weapons on though, and all but sprint to the safety of the second floor.