Chapter 5
Chapter Five
ANDIE
We’ve been driving for about an hour. To pass the time, I close my eyes, thinking and reworking scenarios in my mind since my plans have been suddenly blown all to hell because of Liam and the three men who I am trying my best to blatantly ignore at the moment. Because I refuse to talk, Keane and Rafe have, thankfully, left me alone while Jax drove, cranking up some godawful heavy metal crap that made me want to stab my brain through the ear canal with any sharp object.
When the van lurches to a stop, Jax opens his door and hops out. I push the vehicle’s sliding side door open before either Rafe or Keane can do it. I quickly jump out and stretch my stiff arms and legs. Being tied up to a chair and then sitting in an uncomfortable van has seized up my muscles. I wince slightly at the soreness in my ribs where that asshole punched me with his brass knuckles, and my face throbs like a bitch. Not to mention, I really do have to go to the bathroom.
Hoping to get my bearings, my eyes dart around, taking everything in, but all I can see are forests of tall pines and deciduous hardwoods. The cacophony of traffic noise is silenced here, making the chirping songs of birds and the chittering of squirrels more distinct. Racking my brain for any memory that will help me figure out exactly where here is, I come up short. So, basically, I’m stuck out in the middle of nowhere.
My father has several safehouses scattered around the state that I know of but have never been to. I wasn’t privy to that information because I was a girl. A lowly daughter, good for nothing more than to look pretty and obey.
As I stand there slowly taking in my new surroundings, I can feel Keane’s eyes on me when he gets out of the vehicle. Rafe hesitantly steps up to my side and my gaze is drawn to him without my permission. Rafe was my everything once upon a time. It’s hard not to see the boy I once loved in the man standing next to me now. But that boy doesn’t exist anymore. And neither do I. Whatever person I used to be died a long time ago at the hands of my father. What was left of my soul was buried along with my brother. I now exist as a barely functioning human being, whose only reason to keep walking among the living is revenge.
“Come on,” Keane eventually says, grasping my elbow.
I jerk away from him and then curse when a sharp pain blooms around my ribcage. The bruise may actually be broken ribs.
“Don’t touch me. I’ve had enough of men putting their hands on me today.”
Rafe’s dark eyebrows draw down. “Andie, did they?—”
“ Shut. Up .” I walk off.
The house they brought me to is a modern log cabin with darkened windows, more than likely bulletproof if I know my father. I don’t see any obvious security cameras, but I know there must be some around. The house is probably bugged as well. My father was always a paranoid bastard, mistrustful of even his own children. The mansion I grew up in was more like a jail than a home, but I got very good at sneaking out and evading detection. It was how I was able to clandestinely meet with Rafe at night. The only reprieve I got from watchful eyes was when I was at school, and I would make up any excuse I could in order to stay later each day so I wouldn’t have to go home.
As I walk up the steps to the front porch, Jax is leaning a shoulder against the house, watching me through his glasses with those perceptive moss-green eyes. He enters a code on a digital keypad next to the door, then presses his thumb to a fingerprint scanner. There’s a soft snick and then the door unlocks.
Without waiting, Jax pushes the door open and walks inside. I hesitate for a moment before following. The inside is surprisingly homey. Not at all what I was expecting. The floor plan is open concept with high ceilings and wood beams. I pass by a kitchen and notice that it’s a modern chef’s kitchen with large stainless-steel appliances and double sinks. An expansive quartz stone counter island takes up the middle. Travertine tile flooring and a stone backsplash add muted shades of blue and gray that contrast nicely with the white cabinets. It’s like walking into one of those homes featured in a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.
“Follow me. I’ll take you to where you’ll be sleeping,” Keane states, passing me to my right. I catch a whiff of his cologne and frown. I hate that someone with such a black heart can smell so good.
He stops at what looks like an elevator door and lifts his chin at me, expecting me to follow him like a trained dog. Just to be annoying, I make him wait by pretending to re-tie the laces of my shoe before reluctantly joining him.
The elevator doors open, and we step inside. Again, there is another keypad and thumbprint scanner inside the box. Keane goes through the motions and the elevator starts moving—down. There must be underground floors. Clever. And also a problem. I won’t be able to move about freely without knowing the code, and I highly doubt Jax will add my biometrics to the thumbprint scanner. I’m basically a prisoner. Again.
Seconds later, the elevator doors open to a dimly lit hall.
“This way.” Keane puts his hand to the small of my back and gives me a hard shove to get me going. I smack his hand away, glaring at him over my shoulder.
He smirks at my reaction until I warn him, “Don’t touch me.”
I watch as that smirk immediately falls away and morphs into what looks like contrition.
As we walk, I count how many doors we pass and any detail I can see that may come in handy at a later time. When we get to the end of the hallway, he opens the last door, and what greets me almost knocks me to my ass.
“What the hell is this?” I demand.
The room is almost an exact replica of the room I grew up in. Same type of bed and dresser. Same muted dove gray and rose color scheme. Resting in the corner of the room is a similar beanbag chair to the one I used to sit in for hours and read books. There’s a bookcase against the side wall filled with books that I’d read as a child. A lone stuffed unicorn lies on the bed, which is odd. There is even a framed photograph on the dresser of Kellan. My heart clenches, and I whirl on Keane.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Bathroom is in there. It should be stocked with anything you might need. If not, tell Jax, and he’ll get it for you.”
“Keane.”
He looks at me with those sharp hazel eyes, and my brain stutters for a second.
“Take a shower. You smell and look like shit.”
“Thanks so much,” I say sardonically. Fucking asshole .
Since I need answers more than I need my pride, I stomp into the bathroom, getting a small amount of satisfaction by slamming the door and throwing the lock.
Of course, it’s just as creepy as the room. Apple blossom scented soaps and shampoos are sitting neatly in a shower caddy. There’s a toothbrush holder next to the sink in the shape of a unicorn riding a rainbow. I don’t even want to know.
I turn on the shower to the hottest setting possible, gingerly strip out of my soiled clothes, and gasp when I catch my reflection in the mirror. My torso is purple and blue. My hair is a tangled, bloody mess. And my face—I touch the swollen and bruised side. I’ll need another ice pack. The violet of my irises color coordinate with the bruises covering my body.
I stare at myself until steam fogs the mirror, distorting my image. Only then do I step into the shower and let the almost boiling water scald my skin until it stings.
How could everything I had planned go so horribly wrong? What the hell do I do now?