Chapter 45 - AMY
AMY
––––––––
I hesitate in front of the door to my room. It’s unlocked. Did they forget to lock it? Is this a test?
I bite my lip. My palms are sweating and I smooth them over my shirt. I discovered in the cupboard a surprising selection of clothes and helped myself to denim shorts and a maroon T-shirt. I’m barefoot, my heels long gone.
I spent most of yesterday in bed, lethargy and leftover effects of the sedative cocooning me in a semi-awake, semi-dozing state.
Lunch and dinner I didn’t eat were brought to me by a tall woman with striking green eyes framed by a ridiculous black mask.
She didn’t speak much, other than to ask if I had everything I needed.
My life back, I wanted to shout, but that required energy and a force of will I didn’t currently possess. I turned my back on the masked woman, not bothering to answer her, and promptly fell asleep, escaping into dreams.
Nolene didn’t put in an appearance the whole of Friday, and Kane has stayed away from me since the almost kiss. A moment I desperately want to forget. Knowing I can’t avoid him forever, I square my shoulders, open the door, and step out of the room.
The hallway is empty. I have no idea of the time, but it seems I’m not the only one awake. I can hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen. There’s the opening and closing of cabinet doors, the clanging of crockery. And what is that smell? Toast. My stomach gives a betraying rumble. I’m so hungry.
I follow the noise and the smell into an open-plan kitchen crowded with potted ferns, clay jars, and pots and pans hanging from a rustic pot rack in the ceiling.
A masked woman is stirring the contents of a pot on the stove, another pan sizzling next to it, a black cat butting its head against her legs.
I hover uncertainly on the periphery of the kitchen.
“Good morning,” the woman greets me cheerfully. “You’re up early.”
“Am I?” I shrug. “My watch was taken so I don’t know the time.”
“It’s a little before six,” the woman tells me. She casts a quick glance at my bare wrist but doesn’t follow up on my comment. “Because of the animals, we’re usually up early here.”
“Animals?”
“Ross and I run a sanctuary.”
Great. I can’t escape them, these irritating, four-legged creatures that are the cause of my imprisonment.
“Would you mind buttering the toast for me?” the woman asks, waving a spatula in the direction of the toaster.
I frown in bewilderment. What’s going on? One moment I’m locked in my room, the next I’m free to roam about and help prepare breakfast? It’s as though I’ve graduated from prisoner to guest, but no one bothered to inform me.
The masked woman, seemingly oblivious to my confusion, chatters on as she grabs a tea towel and pokes at anemic-looking sausages grilling in the oven.
“Saturdays, we treat ourselves to a fry-up. The rest of the week we have smoothies or a fruit salad for breakfast.” She closes the oven door.
“Help yourself to juice if you’re thirsty. ”
I walk over to the toaster and pick up a butter knife.
It’s a weapon, admittedly a blunt one, and there’s this vague thought I ought to use the knife to try to escape, but all I can think of is how rude that would be.
Unable to shake off the surreal feeling, I place the toast on a plate and start buttering.
“You can call me Mel,” the woman says, laying out plates and cutlery on the kitchen island. “It’ll help a bit with the awkwardness. Sorry about the mask, but I’m told it’s better for everyone if we wear them.”
Before I can reply, there’s the excited tapping of paws on slate and a pack of dogs enter the living area off the kitchen, settling themselves wherever they like, a few ambling over to sniff at me, wandering away when Mel good-naturedly ushers them out of the kitchen.
One dog in particular catches my eye. A huge German Shepherd with gleaming black eyes. A beautiful, but terrifying-looking animal. His stance is watchful, as if waiting for someone.
I make out the low murmur of male voices, and then Kane and another man walk in. The air becomes heavier the moment I see Kane. And blast the man, but he looks good in black sweatpants and a black T-shirt highlighting his dark hair and rough stubble.
I can’t tell if his teeth are still blue, because right now he isn’t smiling.
“I’m ready to serve,” Mel announces. “You guys ready to eat?”
“Oh, yeah,” says the man standing next to Kane, shrugging out of his jacket. “Smells good, love.”
I take a moment to study the other man. What did Mel let slip earlier? Ross and I run a sanctuary. Is this Ross? He’s as tall as Kane with a tanned face and wavy blond hair. The same Zorro mask outlines smiling blue eyes.
Kane’s the only one not wearing a mask. I vow to memorize every inch of his features so that when this is all over I can give a detailed description of him to the police. Except the thought no longer gives me the sense of satisfaction it once did.
While Kane pumps soap into his hands at the kitchen sink and Mel serves up the food, the blond man approaches me, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Amy, is it?” he asks. “There hasn’t been a chance to introduce myself.”
“Perhaps because I was drugged and out cold,” I reply, all false sweetness.
He looks startled, then laughs appreciatively. “Looks like things will be a lot more interesting with you around.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I respond, frowning slightly because his presence has an odd, reassuring effect. I sense no threat from this man. “You can always let me go.”
“That isn’t up to me,” he says gently.
Of course not. Suppressing a sigh, I decide to test the waters. “What should I call you? Have you picked out a martyr yet?”
Ross blinks in confusion. Kane turns around, drying his hands on a towel, his eyes hard on mine.
My chest tightens.
In a clipped voice, still holding my gaze, Kane explains that he and Jill each picked the name of an animal rights martyr so I have something to call them by. While he’s speaking, I notice his teeth still flash bright blue. I make no effort to hide my smirk.
Mel and Ross exchange a loaded glance. They can no doubt tell from the bruised tension in the air that something weird is going on between Kane and me. The German Shepherd cocks his head and whines nervously.
Ross gives Kane an appraising look. “I came up with a number of nicknames for you over the years. Most of them can’t be said in company. What are you going by now?”
“You can stick to Kane. Amy knows my name,” he says without elaborating.
“What a pity,” Mel says to Kane. “The Blue Beast would have suited you nicely.”
I choke on a laugh and Ross chuckles, shaking his head at Mel in what looks like fond exasperation.
Kane narrows his eyes, but the tension is lightened and after a moment his lips twitch and he smiles. “It was a good trick.”
“One of my best,” Mel agrees.
“You said it takes a couple of days to fade.”
She waves a negligent hand in the air. “You needed something to mar those good looks.”
“And you volunteered. You realize your turn’s coming.”
Her eyes light up competitively. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Ross turns to me, as if realizing he hasn’t yet answered my question. “You still need a name for me. Why don’t you call me Z or Zorro?”
I nod, deciding not to tell them Mel has already given away Ross’s name.
Kane’s eyebrows lift. “Z? Zorro? Are you serious?”
“Look at me,” Ross retorts, adjusting his mask in obvious irritation. “Do I look serious? If I’m to wear this absurd mask, I might as well have a name to match.”
“Your call,” Kane says.
“Don’t remind me.”
Catching my puzzled look, Kane explains, “Z here didn’t want you locked in your room so these masks are an inconvenience to us but necessary so you can have the freedom to walk around the sanctuary.
” He clearly sees something in my face because his next words dull that brief spurt of hope.
“One of us will be with you at all times. Any attempt to run and you’re confined to your room. ”
Silence echoes. Mel clears her throat. “Food’s getting cold.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” Ross skims a kiss across Mel’s lips and heads to the sink to wash up. “I count down the days until Saturday.”
Watching them, I make up my mind to try to befriend these two. Although their loyalty plainly lies with Kane, they appear sympathetic and might be able to protect me from any further plans Kane and Nolene have in mind.
We sit at the kitchen island to eat, Ross and Mel settling on bar stools opposite Kane and me. When the German Shepherd slinks closer, Kane frowns and gives him a hand signal. The dog flops to the floor, putting his head on his paws, looking shamefaced he even thought to beg.
We’re all hungry, and the plates of food are polished off quickly. I soon discover the sausages are veggie ones, but I’m so ravenous I eat them anyway, admitting only to myself the taste is tolerable.
Talk at the table centers on the animals at the sanctuary. Everyone is careful not to mention its name. They discuss chores to be done and what’s happening in the week ahead. To my amazement, I find out they all woke up at four thirty this morning to clean out the stalls and feed the animals.
A plaintive bleating interrupts the conversation. Mel smiles. “Hang on, little one, I’m coming.” She disappears into what looks like a laundry room off the kitchen and returns with a gangly, grubby-looking lamb trailing her.
“Did the smell of all that food make you hungry?” Mel croons, snagging a bottle of milk off the counter. Perching on her stool, she leans forward and offers the lamb the bottle. The lamb braces its legs and sucks noisily.
Noticing my interest, Mel says, “We named him Rambo. He’s a survivor so it seemed to suit him. A cliché, I know.” She tilts her head. “Would you like to feed him?”
“No, thanks,” I say quickly.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
Mel shrugs. “All right.”
The creature is cute. All legs, soulful black eyes, tail wagging like a dog’s.
I look up to find Kane watching me, his eyes filled with shadows. No doubt judging me again. I turn to Mel, determined to show interest in an animal. “What are you feeding him?”
“A lamb milk replacer.”
I nod, like I know exactly what that is. “How old is he?”
“Two weeks.”
“What happened to the mother?”
“We don’t know. Most likely, she died giving birth.
We went to a live animal auction and found him abandoned in a cardboard box.
He still had his umbilical cord and was barely alive.
Ro...um...Z treated him for hypothermia and dehydration and we managed to nurse him back to health.
” A bleak look enters Mel’s eyes. “There were over twenty orphan lambs there. We couldn’t take them all. ”
Queasiness churns inside me. It doesn’t seem right that an auction like this can happen and hardly anyone knows about it.
But in all honesty, I don’t want to know about it either.
The knowledge makes me uncomfortable, as though knowing about it means I ought to do something.
Really, there’s good reason for the saying, ignorance is bliss.
And bliss for me is a roast leg of lamb with mint sauce.
Which I can’t imagine ever eating again.
Ross leans down to ruffle the woolly head. “He made it though. He’s a fighter.”
The lamb greedily finishes off the last drops of milk and hovers anxiously around Mel’s bar stool, casting adoring glances up at her. She rolls her eyes, but there’s affection in the gesture. “I opened myself up to this. You bottle feed an orphan lamb and there’s bound to be attachment issues.”
“Attachment issues?” I ask.
“He thinks I’m his mom.” Although it’s said in an easy way, I catch the undertone of pain in her voice and I wonder at the lack of children in a house filled with four-legged orphans.
I notice Kane also studying Mel. I’m surprised at the sympathy I see softening the contours of his face. “You outdid yourself,” he compliments her. “I haven’t had a fry-up like this in ages.”
“Raised my cholesterol level, for sure.” Ross scratches under his mask and I get the impression he wants to rip the thing off. “Now to find the energy to return to work.”
“Every Saturday I wonder if the meal is worth all the mess,” Mel comments ruefully, frowning at the pile of pots in the sink.
“Oh, it is, love,” Ross assures her. “I’ll help you clean up.”
I force myself to make the effort. “Thank you, Mel, for breakfast.”
Ross shoots Mel a look, and I realize the mistake I made in using her real name. Apart from a guilty shrug, Mel doesn’t confess she also gave away Ross’s name earlier. I decide to stick to my decision not to enlighten them either.
Sighing into the silence, Ross turns to Kane. “Will you check on the two stallions for me? After I finish in the kitchen, I need to have a look at the Jeep. It has an oil leak.”
I sneak a sideways glance at Kane, but he’s making a concerted effort not to look my way.
“Oil leak?” Kane asks, rubbing his jaw.
Ross shakes his head in disgust. “Yeah. Discovered oil under the car this morning.”
“Need any help?” Kane asks.
“Nah, I should be able to figure it out.”
I busy myself examining my fingernails. My polish is badly chipped.
The lamb totters back to his wicker basket, his eyes already at half-mast.
“Sure, I’ll take a look at the horses,” Kane says.
“Why don’t you take Amy with you?” Mel suggests casually as she clears the table.
Kane’s head snaps up. “What? Why?”
Yes, why? For once, I’m in agreement with him.
Mel offers us both a serene smile. “She can help you name them.”
“She’ll be in my way. She knows nothing about animals.”
“I know how to eat them,” I fire back.
He glowers at me. “Plus, she annoys me. Immensely.”
“Likewise!”
“Uh, children,” Ross interrupts, laughter in his voice.
“Amy can help you in the kitchen,” Kane says to Mel.
“Z has already volunteered his help,” Mel points out.
“And you’ve so helpfully volunteered Amy’s.” Standing, Kane aims his scowl my way. “Come with me then. Maybe doing something useful for a change will keep you from feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Feeling sorry for myself!” I repeat incredulously, springing to my feet. “How dare you!”
“I dare because no one in your life has had the guts to give you the honesty you need.”
“And I suppose there’s someone in your life honest enough to tell you that kidnapping is against the law!”
We glare furiously at each other.
“Good, all sorted then,” Mel concludes brightly, ushering us out the back door, the dogs lumbering to their feet and padding after us. “Enjoy yourselves,” she calls before closing the door in our faces.