Page 14 of Purgatory (Devil Dogs of the Apocalypse #1)
Alessandra
The next morning, I find myself downright refusing to leave the safety and comfort of the bed.
Not only because I have some back up, who are conveniently and electrifyingly gorgeous and I can finally relax for once, but also because I’ve been warned that the one and only person besides me that is left in the house this morning, is, apparently, the living epitome of a Disney villain.
.. or hero... antihero? Whatever, let’s just hope for Stockholm Syndrome as a worst possibility and aim for something a little more friendly.
.. Like the Beast after the snowball fight.
.. we can fast forward, right? No dancing dinnerware necessary.
Who am I kidding though. Hunger and boredom end up winning... as usual, fucking bastards, and I end up tip-toeing out of my safe haven. I take my time meandering down to the kitchen and hear nothing else but the echo of my own footsteps and my careful breathing.
I reach the kitchen and see no active signs of life. There are dishes drying in the rack by the sink and a wooden bowl with a dish towel draped over it, but that’s about it for the kitchen.
I make my way over to the living room and stand in the entryway.
I wasn’t really able to take in the space yesterday but looking at it now, I can see it’s well taken care of and has its own sort of southern charm.
Large, deep-seated dark leather sofas take over the room and the bookshelves that line the walls are filled to the brim with various novels and DIY texts.
There’s also one section of shelves completely dedicated to CD’s.
I walk over to the shelves surrounding the fireplace and look at the wide variety of books.
Some of the novels I recognize- Art of War, all of the Harry Potters, a couple by Jane Austen- while others, hidden in a second row behind those on obvious display, simply surprise me.
Who the hell is reading about ‘sexy fae guardians’ and what the hell is ‘knotting’?
I put the book, whose cover is nothing but wolves, back on the shelf and notice there are even more.
There must be hundreds. I have to admit, I’m intrigued to say the least, making a mental note to ask if I can read one of them later.
Stepping to the side, I move closer to the collection of CDs and my face breaks into a smile when I see that many of them are by bands that I know and love.
The person that owns this house certainly has one hell of a collection on their hands.
The thought makes me stiffen slightly and my eyes narrow in speculation.
Maybe the guys weren’t kidding when they compared him to Beast. He had a huge library too.
And two sidekicks... I look around again, scared that some inanimate object is going to come to life and scare the bejeesus out of me.
I look to the candle holders on the mantle above the fireplace and poke one for good measure, just to make sure.
Once I verify that I am, in fact, on my own, and there isn’t a curse on the house, I move back into the kitchen and decide to raid the pantry.
It's a huge walk-in off to the side and holy jackpot, it is full .
Taking my time and looking over their collection of canned, jarred and dried foods, I find myself leaning towards the back corner, my mouth watering in anticipation.
“Someone in this house not only cooks... but bakes...”
Oh, for the love of cake, can I keep you ?
There is a huge, glass jar filled to the brim with freshly baked cookies. You can tell the difference between store-bought and homemade and these babies were made with love. I end up taking three - hey I'm not gonna be greedy - and make my way back out to the kitchen and sit at the island.
“Oh my Lord, these are good...” I moan through my bite, thoroughly enjoying the sugary goodness when I’m startled by a hard * thunk* sound coming from outside.
“What the hell?” * thunk*
I look around trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound and conclude its definitely coming from somewhere outside of the house. I take my last cookie on the journey with me through the craftsman style kitchen and towards the sound.
I find myself drawn towards the absolutely gigantic floor to ceiling windows at the far end of the kitchen.
They cover the entire expanse of the far wall and look out onto the homestead and the forest of trees beyond.
My eyes, however, do not drift to the surrounding landscape, but rather to what is, now, directly in front of me.
Needless to say, I’m not ready for what my eyes linger on.
“Oh, holy hotness, what the fuck is in the water down here?”
Outside the window stands a beast of a specimen.
Over 6 foot, beautifully tanned skin, dark jeans loose on his hips, shirt haplessly tucked into his back pocket, backwards baseball cap, dark stubble covering his jawline, and the piece de resistance – muscles for days and tattoos.
He’s even sporting that delicious V dip that leads to the promise land hidden in his pants.
.. meet my wet dreams ladies and gentlemen.
He’s out there chopping wood, which makes the weird * thunk* sounds make sense now. Come to think about it, he must have been out there for a while because he has a delicious layer of fresh sweat caressing his skin now.
I need to have a little one on one with my vagina about respecting people’s boundaries and not thinking about jumping these guys in their sleep but the bitch is not listening to me. I need a cold shower, or a drink or, fuck it, both right about now...stat.
Or just a fuck, you silly siren...
“Shut your filthy mouth and be grateful ya horny bitch! They might not even like me like that.”
Hawk and Cole seemed to be pretty friendly yesterday...
The thunking of the wood being chopped brings me back to reality and out of my vagina monologues.
I focus back on the man outside and gasp when I notice he’s looking right at me.
Not moving. The utter intensity of his piercing gaze makes my mouth dry up and my heart start hammering in my chest. Prey in the predator’s sights.
Oh my God, oh my God what the hell do I do? Do I go out there and talk to him? Do I go back to my room? Should I run? Jeez, I haven’t been more scared in the past few months than I am right now.
My sudden terror takes a tiny detour to lust when he takes a slow swipe of his tongue to his lips and flexes the arm holding the axe.
His gaze travels down the length of my body, to my feet then back up to my face.
Shivers climb the length of my spine at his assessment, all the while I'm paralyzed to his scrutiny.
Thankfully, he must take pity on my ‘deer in the headlights’ look because he slams his axe into the giant log he was working on and stalks away from the house in the direction of the garden, allowing me to release the biggest breath of anxiety from my lungs.
With self-preservation in mind, I end up steering clear of the garden for the remainder of the day, choosing, instead, to explore the rest of the house and the bit of land in the complete opposite direction of the garden.
The property is huge. They weren’t kidding.
I even managed to find a few running trails along the edge of the property going through the trees that eventually lead to a gorgeous lake.
It's by that lake at the end of the day, that I find myself sitting tucked in the trees, admiring the beauty around me. A flock of geese fly overhead. Pinks, purples and oranges color the evening sky as the sun makes its decent to the horizon and here I am, snuggled up on a boulder, basking in nature’s simple magnificence.
“Wow, these guys are so lucky. I’d never want to leave if I lived here.”
You, sort of, do now...
Pondering that a little, I realize the statement was actually pretty accurate.
Hawk seemed pretty adamant about me staying.
Even Cole, to a point. I’d eventually have to take my lady balls by the hand and talk to the big, bad wolf if I wanted to make it a reality though. This is his house after all.
Going back to what I knew, just a few days ago, as my own reality would crush me after this.
Sure, I could handle it. I would make it work and survive as I had been.
But there’s something to be said for human interaction.
I’ve always thought of myself as an introvert.
My friends would go out to clubs and be the life of the parties but not me.
I’d find my enjoyment out of staying home, reading a book and keeping to myself.
Nowadays, I realize just how much I took for granted.
All that time, I was able to see, talk, be with other people.
Have connections both platonically and intimately whenever I wanted.
And in the amount of time it takes to snap one’s fingers, it all went away.
Trust, friendship, even love was replaced with emptiness, judgement and fear.
Friends? Gone. Family? Deceased. Lovers?
Vanished into thin air. Like dust in the wind, they scattered in the breeze never to be found again.
Tired isn’t even the word for it. I’m fucking exhausted.
Just done with it all. Done with the emptiness.
Done with the fear. Done with wandering aimlessly for days on end to a destination that may not even exist anymore.
Months of enduring all of this and what do I have to show for it?
Nothing. More emptiness. That is... until them.
My nearly comatose soul, revived with life simply by learning of their existence and the knowledge that I’m no longer alone in the world.
I smile at the thought. My stress dissolving with the wavering sunlight.