Chapter 4
4
To my surprise, Val lets me up a few seconds later, and even offers me a hand. Not that I take it. I scramble to my feet on my own and back away from both of them until my shoulders hit the glass and I can once again feel my heart in my throat. My nails dig crescents into my palms as I once again flex and unflex my fingers, then force myself to take deep breaths in an effort not to panic.
Or at least not panic any harder.
“Just tell me how.” Looking between them, I kick myself for trusting these two men not to hurt me. The signs had all been there. Literally in my face and all over my hands. Wrapped around my wrist, in one case of unfortunate entrails; the thought of which makes me want to retch. “Tell me how, then let me go home so I can forget about this and you and pretend this never happened.”
“Oh, no. No, darling.” Kieran pushes to his feet and crosses the distance between us, eating into my personal bubble without hesitating. He rests his arms on the window behind me, leaning his weight against it casually. “There’s no going home and forgetting about us.” Kieran’s grin is sly as he brushes his lips almost sweetly against mine, though it only makes me shudder. “Not anymore. We’re the consequences of your curiosity and your”—he pulls away and looks me over from dark eyes as if appraising every bit of me—“feral little self.”
I move to dart away from him, or attempt to, but he’s faster. Kieran grabs me by my throat and sighs. His head tips to the side and he gives me a curious look. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until we figure this out.” Letting out a breath, he adds, “You’re hungry, right? You have to be by now.”
Embarrassingly, I realize that I am. I didn’t get my pie and coffee like I’d planned, and it’s definitely been at least a day since I’ve eaten. That’s probably what’s giving me the start of a headache, but I’m certainly not about to admit it.
“I don’t suppose you brought pie and coffee to make up for kidnapping me?” I ask witheringly, leveling an unsteady glare at Kieran’s face.
I don’t expect Val to snort, and I watch as he walks into the kitchen, then to the fridge. Meeting my gaze he opens the door, showing me the contents.
And the two boxes of pie.
“Lemon meringue and pecan, or apple’s in the freezer. Since I feel a little bad about this. But also, I hope you like pizza because surely you did not plan on eating just pie today, did you?”
“Uh, yeah. I absolutely was.” Again I try to sidestep Kieran, but this time he drops his arm and lets me, to my surprise. In fact he gestures me toward the kitchen, and even though I want to argue with them and not accept food…
I really am getting hungry.
“While pizza isn’t exactly what I would consider healthy, you aren’t just eating pie,” Kieran informs me.
“Thanks, Dad ,” I can’t help but snap, though I level a nervous glance in his direction as I drift toward the cabinets.
And the drawers
Where the forks live.
My hand goes out, fingers reaching, just for Val to slide in front of me to block my way, a crooked grin on his lips. “You wouldn’t like trying to stab us with utensils.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His eyes narrow in amusement, just a little, and he gives a soft chuckle. “And yet you were heading straight for the forks, weren’t you? Since I hid the knives and all, I figured they would be your next weapon of choice.”
I hesitate, eyes flicking around the kitchen to see the oven light is on and there are two pizzas perched on the racks, cheese slowly turning golden. “So you think I’m going to sit down at the table and play house with the two of you?” My hunger is making me a little irritable, now that it’s at the forefront of my brain, and I relinquish my quest for a fork with one step back from Val.
“Yep.” Kieran sighs, grabbing my shoulders and steering me towards the table. “Sit. Stay. ” He pushes me into a chair, and I rest my hands on the smooth tabletop.
God, I couldn’t feel more awkward if I tried. Part of me would rather be in an auditorium with a PowerPoint of all my embarrassing moments playing for everyone I’ve ever come in contact with on the screen, in HD, than be sitting here about to eat pizza with two murderers.
“So…what do I call you?” I ask as Val checks on the pizza. From a bag on the counter he reveals paper plates and napkins, which he sets on the table before giving me a bemused glance.
“Val and Kieran work great,” the younger man informs me sweetly. “Ravage and Harrow work too, if that’s your kink. Maybe not in public, though. That might be?—”
“Indicative of you being murderers, or serial killers?” I cut him off without really meaning to, and I tap my fingers rhythmically against the table as Kieran eases into a seat behind me like he’s sore.
When I look at him with curiosity, not concern , he gives me a flat grin. “I’ve been cleaning up bodies for a lot of the day, in between taking care of you. Cleaning up crime scenes and moving bodies is hard work. Cut me some slack until the Advil kicks in, won’t you? And to answer your question”—he looks at the ceiling thoughtfully for a few moments—“serial killers. I’m not sure where the cutoff is for murderer vs. serial killer, but I’m sure both of us have gone over it.”
“Way over it, for some of us,” Val mumbles as he glares at the pizza for a moment. I watch him, a jolt of surprise making me uncomfortable, and I tap my fingers as he goes to the fridge once more to gesture at the contents. Specifically at the bottles of soda and water lined on the top shelf.
“Looks like you’ve stocked up,” I comment without thinking, then close my eyes with a sigh of absolute regret for my recent life choices.
Maybe I did something in a past life to deserve this. There’s no other explanation for how my life got so fucked up in the past twenty-four hours just because I got lost and went to the wrong haunt.
Val sets a bottle of water down in front of me, then reaches out to brush my hair back from my face. I flinch away from him, finding myself just as terrified of them as I had been last night. Frankly, I should’ve been terrified of them all day, instead of letting them lull me into a false sense of security.
Maybe if I was smarter—and not thinking with my lady bits—I would’ve known to slam the door in their faces and call the cops.
“I know what you’re thinking.” When I look up at Kieran’s words, I find a surprisingly sympathetic look on his face. He smiles almost sweetly and settles back in his chair. “You’re thinking that you shouldn’t have let us in this morning. You’re thinking you should’ve called the cops on us and locked your door.”
It’s a little uncanny how he can read me so well. That, or I guess maybe I’m not as subtle with my expressions as I hoped I am. Barely glancing up at him, I instead busy my hands by reaching for the bottle of water and let the condensation cool my palm while I hold it.
I’m not thirsty, and my hunger comes and goes as my fear builds and recedes like the tide. “Yeah,” I mutter finally. “That, uh, that would be what I’m thinking right now.”
“Well, don’t worry so much about it. And don’t blame yourself. We had a backup plan for if you didn’t let us in. You just picked the easier, less traumatic way of coming with us, darling girl.” His words don’t instill any comfort or confidence in me. Instead, my skin prickles and I roll my shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug.
But I know I need to get over this shock, this almost catatonic state my brain seems to be in at the moment.
There’s no one else around to save me, so I need to figure out how to save myself. Ideally, before I’m completely out of options and they really do kill me.
I take a breath, then another. In and out, I count the seconds of inhaling and exhaling air. I force myself to push past the shock, the horror, and the urge to curl up in a corner until all of this goes away or I wake up from what should be a nightmare. That fear and cowardice aren’t going to help me now.
Easing back into my seat, I set down the bottle of water and watch Val pull the pizzas out of the oven. I hate how good it smells, especially when my stomach is suddenly eating itself in desperation for food. As he brings it to the table, I tuck my hair back over my shoulder, eyeing the tangled black and orange strands. I’m sure I look like the feral thing they call me, considering my hair really needs to meet a brush and some detangler.
“They aren’t fancy. Just stopped at a convenience store right before we got here,” Val remarks as he sits down heavily in his chair with a lopsided grin. I don’t reply, though. Instead, I file away the information that we’re not completely removed from civilization if he stopped somewhere close.
Something makes me glance at Kieran, and I find him studying me with interest. His elbow is pressed to the table, chin in his hand, and his eyes dance like we’re sharing some inside joke I’m not aware of.
If I’m so easily read, does that mean he knows what I’m thinking right now? How I’m wondering about the convenience store, the possibility of a small town, and whether their cops know how to use their guns?
If he did, he’d probably have me tied up before I could deny it and feed me pizza off a fork. Since I don’t want that to happen, I huff a sigh and try to relax against my chair. Not that it works. The hard wooden slats press against my shoulders and spine, and I find I can barely sit still. I busy myself with taking a slice of cheese pizza, though when I look down at my plate and the bubbly, golden cheese, my stomach suddenly twists and my hunger becomes nausea.
But I really do need to eat something.
As Kieran and Val talk about something that doesn’t concern me, I force myself to take small bites of my pizza, chewing thoroughly and swallowing hard as hunger wars with the nausea in me. Occasionally, my eyes dart up between them, catching their expressions as they chat so casually, like they haven’t kidnapped me and aren’t threatening to kill me.
With that thought, I can barely finish my big slice of pizza. Even when I swallow the last bite of garlicky crust, I have to suck in breaths through my nose and look up at the ceiling in order not to vomit.
“You’re fine, you know,” Val tells me, prompting my gaze to flick down to his. He’s on his third slice of pepperoni pizza, and still chowing down happily. “You’re not in any danger at the moment. You should be working with us to figure out what we need from you, Noa. Not sitting there looking like a trapped animal ready to rip off our faces.”
“Seems like ripping your faces off would be a valid option,” I point out sourly. “I mean, that certainly would make it so you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Since you won’t be able to.” I can’t help my sharp, humorless smile, and Kieran chuckles at my words.
Like I’ve made a joke.
Like I’m not weighing the possibility of stabbing them with forks and maybe the odd spoon.
Val snickers at my words and sits back in his chair, wiping his hands off with a napkin. “All right,” he says. “Let’s make a deal, hmm?” His words surprise me, and even Kieran glances at him, like he’s not quite sure what Val is going to say.
“A deal? With you?” My eyebrows climb toward my bangs and I mirror his pose with my arms tucked against my chest. “Yeah, you guys seem to keep your word so well. How do I know this deal is real, and not just a trick to get me to do what you want?”
“Oh, you don’t,” he assures me with that sweet and savage grin. “But you’ll just have to take us at our word one more time. Your body needs to chill. You need to have some downtime, and you definitely need to eat more. We’re not looking to make this bad for you, Noa. Not one bit. We don’t want to hurt you, or kill you, or scare you more than we already have.”
All of that sounds like preachy bullshit to me, but with Kieran watching me closely, like he’s waiting to jump on me, I don’t say it.
“We’re all tired,” Val adds. “So here’s what I’m thinking. We call a truce for the night. You don’t try to stab us or escape, and this will be the nicest cabin getaway with the two of us you could hope for. No more scaring you. No drugging you or tying you up. If you act like a good girl for us, we’ll make everything feel okay.”
I hate how the offer is strangely tempting. I hate that I’m considering it , and that’s only because I’m so tired of being terrified and I just want to sleep a normal sleep after stuffing my face with food and pouring chocolate milk down my throat with a funnel.
“What if I don’t?” I inexplicably find myself asking. “What if I think that sounds way too good to be true, and I’d totally rather hype myself up to stab you guys with forks?” It’s too easy for my voice to lay on the sarcasm. And way too easy for me to imagine myself with the Psycho sound effects as I stab them with fork prongs.
“Then you don’t. And I open that door over there for you.” His eyes darken, something predatory entering his expression as he leans forward. “You run, you try to find help, you scream and cry, and do whatever else your panicking brain tells you to do.”
It can’t be that easy, but I glance toward the door, anyway.
“And after a couple of minutes, we come after you. We play a game, Noa. Your goal is to get away from us, and your prize is success. But we’ll be trying to catch you, and if you run, you’re giving us permission to do whatever we want with you until we figure out if we can trust you, one way or another. So it’s your choice, princess.” He cradles his face in his hands, elbows on the table, and grins. “Do you want to do this the nice, sweet, easy way? Or the very exhilarating, hard way?”