Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Indi
Soot-covered stairs creak alarmingly under my shoes. This is all too surreal, like a nightmare I can’t wake up from; the feel of late-afternoon sun on my arms as I’m forced up the stairs of the house I’d lived in for years; the sound of birds, too loud now that the roof’s caved in.
How many times have I skinned my knees on these steps as a kid while rushing to get upstairs? Now I’m moving through molasses, every cell in my body protesting.
But what am I supposed to do? There’s a gun trained on me—Marcus follows us up the stairs like a predator stalking prey—and I’d break an ankle trying to jump off.
A maimed girl is a dead girl.
Look what happened to Addy.
I realize Briar was trying to protect me earlier, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Addy’s body is off to one side, in clear view as we head up to the landing.
After I caught sight of her, I nearly threw up. Now I’m keeping my eyes straight ahead.
Not daring to look. Not daring to disobey.
If I’m a good girl, maybe he’ll let me go.
If I behave, maybe he’ll drop his guard long enough for me or Briar to overpower him.
Chances are slim, but it’s all I have.
So up the stairs I go, one foot at a time. By the time I reach the landing, I’m numb with dread anticipation.
There’s a gaping doorway ahead.
My room. It’s still standing. It’s the only thing still standing up here. Some of the wall against the hall has fallen in, but the other three are still there. Blackened, cracked, but still there. Roof’s caved in, but there’s even a window frame left, a few shards of glass poking out of that wood like teeth.
It’s the mattress on the floor, however, that makes me stare.
It’s not mine. Mine was a twin. This one’s gotta be a queen. And it’s completely untouched by the fire, except for a few streaks of soot.
Brand new and bare.
“See?” Marcus says.
I jolt and hurry forward a step, my skin crawling with the realization that he’d been close enough to whisper in my ear.
“Look how nice it looks.”
“Just take the money,” Briar says. We’re standing a few feet apart facing Marcus, who’s taking up the doorway to my old room.
Marcus rolls his eyes. “Quit it about the money, already. I told you. I found my calling.” He steps inside the room and heads for my dresser. It’s pitch black, one leg eaten away by the fire. Marcus takes a phone from his pocket, plays around with it for a second, and then puts it on the slanting surface.
Facing us.
No—facing the mattress.
“Undress her.”
Briar shakes his head. Lifts his hands. “I can get more money. Tons more. Just tell me how much?—”
“Get her naked!” Marcus yells.
I jerk, my hands closing instinctively into fists. Briar’s jaw bunches, but he turns and does as he’s told.
Eyes fixed on my throat, he starts undressing me. Every time his fingers graze my skin, I shudder. By the time he’s done, I’m full of goosebumps and ice-cold everywhere except my face, which is burning up with shame.
“Good,” Marcus says quietly. “Now how about a little foreplay. I’ll leave it up to you, but just make sure it’s good, yeah?”
Briar looks up at the sky. He takes a visible breath, and then slides his hands over my bare shoulders, pulling me close.
Hiding my nakedness from Marcus.
“Nuh-uh,” Marcus says, stepping closer. “I wanna see what you’re doing.”
He has his gun out again. I’m sure if he came close enough to us, Briar could take it from him. But he keeps at least a yard between us, sometimes more.
“Come on, man,” Briar says. “You’ve made your point. Just let her go.” He steps back, lifting up his hands. “You can kill me if you want, but just?—”
“You do it, or I will,” Marcus growls.
Briar’s eyes skip to me, then back again. Oh my god, he’s actually considering letting Marcus touch me?
But wait…maybe that’s not a bad idea. Marcus would have one hand on me, and only one on the gun. Distracted. Horny as fuck.
I’ve never in my life wished I had telepathic powers as much as I do right now. We’d have this all worked out, Briar and I. Marcus would already be lying hogtied on the floor, the cops on their way.
Are the cops on their way? Is Briar playing for time?
Briar’s hands close over my breasts and start squeezing. I press my lips into a line, looking up, looking down, looking anywhere but at him.
“Is she getting wet?” Marcus asks.
I squeeze closed my eyes, a shiver chasing down my spine at the leer in Marcus’s voice.
“Fuck,” Briar mutters angrily, but his hand moves down anyway, skimming over my tummy, my clit. Sinking between my legs.
But he doesn’t touch my pussy. Or at least, he doesn’t finger me.
“Mmm,” he murmurs, looking at Marcus. “A little, but not there yet.”
My chest constricts painfully. The fuck does he think he’s doing? I step back, throwing an arm over my boobs and cupping a hand over my pussy.
But Briar doesn’t even look at me. He’s staring at Marcus.
“So…” Briar straightens, leaning his weight to one side. “I saw the video.”
My eyes dart to Marcus. Marcus gives Briar a lopsided smile. “Yeah?”
“I liked it,” Briar says, nodding a few times. “It cleared things up, you know?”
“Yeah?” Marcus says through a laugh.
The fuck are they talking about?