Page 94 of Twisted Ties

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

“What’s going on?”

Marcus raises one eyebrow. There’s a hickey on his neck. I doubt it was that girl. She doesn’t seem the type. Unless of course he made her do it.

“Going on?” he says.

“All the fucking men, equipment. Don’t you have a more important job for me to do?”

Marcus rises from his seat, although his hands still grip the armrests. “You think there’s a more important job than avenging the spilling of my family’s blood?” he shouts.

I lean back and try not to yawn.

Here it comes. I switch off. Let my mind wander back to my little rabbit. What would she feel like to touch? Would she be soft? Tender? Would she purr if I petted her? Would she moan if I fucked her? I’d like to find out.

Marcus’s face turns purple with rage, spittle flies from the corners of his mouth, his eyes practically bulge. I guess he’s really fucking angry this time.

Wonder if he’s going to have me killed.

I smile to myself. Well, that would be fun.

Not today, though. Slowly, the storm blows itself out and Marcus stands there panting, his brow damp with sweat.

I tune back in.

“Nobody escapes a vendetta, Renzo. No one. So either get the job done. Or I’ll find someone else to do it for me.”

I sit up straight. No. I don’t want that. Don’t want some other wolf chasing my rabbit. She’s mine. I’m doing the chasing.

“I’ll get it done,” I say casually. “But give me something else to do in the meantime.”

He shakes his head. “It’s already taken too long. Get it done, then you can have some other job.”

I nod and slowly lumber to my feet.

Outside, I stand and watch the busy little bees. What are they preparing for? What is all this for?

There’s no point asking. Like I said, no one here talks to me. Not after that incident with the dude and his tongue.

People are so fucking touchy. Especially about their body parts.

I take a walk instead, watching some more. They always said I had the attention span of a flea. But that only applies to the things that bore me. The things that interest me, you know, like stalking, killing, torturing, hey, I’ve got unbridled attention for those things.

Turns out, I don’t need a whole lot of patience today. Because, despite being a dud at math, I put two and two together pretty damn quick.

These are vehicles from the West. Unloading weapons from the West. These are men from the West too.

And then there are the bales of straw and sheep.

Seems Marcus has made himself a little deal.

31

Rhi

Day passesinto evening outside the car’s windows as we slow down and enter a residential-looking area. I don’t know what I expected Winnie’s grandma’s home to look like – an actual cottage in the woods, maybe – but it turns out to be a bungalow nestled in among a row of about twenty. As we pull into the driveway, the front door opens and an old woman with a pixie-cut hairstyle and big oversized glasses steps out. She stares at our car like something revolting has just washed up on her doorstep.

“Wait here,” Winnie says, swinging open her door. “Let me go speak to her before we start with the introductions.”