Chapter Twelve
I AM READY FOR BEDearly, which is probably for the best.
After I finish up in the kitchen, I skulk around a bit on the first floor of the house, the level with the walkout to the patio, poking around in the game room to see what else is there. Not much, unless I want to play pool by myself. In the library, there are tons of books, of course, but at that point, my eyelids are so heavy that I couldn’t read a single sentence without nodding off.
The guys are noticeably absent, presumably off on quote-unquote business.
So I take the liberty of retiring to my quarters—because that’s basically what it feels like—and poke around through more of my new wardrobe.
I still feel a tingle of discontent when I think about how much money Rob must have spent on all of these. I really don’t need anything more than the basics. Don’t airlines put a cap on how much you can spend on their dime if they lose your luggage? Something like 500 bucks max? That’s more like what I feel would have been appropriate. Not what I am unpacking now: box after box of designer denim, thick wool sweaters, blazers, and shoes for all occasions, including heels. I rip open one box to discover emerald-colored silk and various sequined things—party clothes. Like I need those. I don’t even go through the rest of that one.
Finally, I hit on what I am really looking for—pajamas. They are tasteful, although not unflattering: a dusty rose color with a short-sleeve button-down top and roomy, comfortable pants.
After another long session in my waterfall-like shower stall, I barely have the energy to throw some moisturizer on before I face-plant into the pillow.
When I awake, hours later, it’s with a startle. I’d been having some kind of nightmare, being chased through the woods—very original—and some terrible animalistic sound has ripped me from my sleep.
I sit up in bed, tangled in sheets, sweating a little under my loose hair.
“Jesus,” I breathe out.
It’s dark by now, so dark I can barely see around my room. I fumble around on the bedside table for my new smartphone and click it on: 12:53, almost exactly the middle of the night. My lips are dry, so I pad over to the bathroom, where there’s a carafe of water and a glass.
As I pour myself something to drink, I drift back to the bedroom and stare out the window into the vast expanse of the backyard. Where are we? I wonder, not for the first time. I suppose I could look at a map program on my phone, but even the blue dot would only tell me that I’m somewhere in the middle of Sherwood Forest. I doubt any of these roads are marked; hell, for all I know, Rob has carved them out personally and has snipers stationed all around the house to take down anyone who dares drive on his land.
I grimace and take a sip, then chug. I’m about to go back to bed after finishing my water when I see something out at the edge of the tree line, where it melts into the grounds of the house.
No, it can’t be. It fucking can’t be.
I draw closer to my bedroom window and stare.
It’s a bear, an honest-to-god bear, roaming in from the woods and coming toward the house.
I can’t believe it. Do bears do that? I try to think about what I know about bears. They can climb trees. You’re supposed to make yourself big to scare them away—or is that mountain lions? Maybe with bears, you’re supposed to play dead.
Either way, if it caught sight of me within fifty paces, it could fuck me up beyond repair.
Still, though I can’t help it. I want to get closer—not closer closer, because obviously I want to remain unmauled, but just enough that I can see it.
It moves almost gracefully, if that’s possible for something that weighs over 600 pounds. Its fur catches the moonlight, shining a deep brownish-black fringed with silver.
I unlatch the French doors and slip out into the night, stepping with bare feet onto the cold stones of the small balcony that juts out from my room. I draw my arms into my chest as though I need to protect myself, even though there’s no possible way it can get me on the balcony, if it can even see me in the first place.
My breath catches as I watch it pick up its pace, then break into a run, and when it does—holy shit. I had no idea bears can run that fast. I’m not great at estimating land speed for anything but cars, but that’s easily 30 miles an hour.
As it ambles past, its long, sinewy muscles rippling as the moonlight catches various angles, I actually let out a little gasp.
And then the bear stops.
I freeze, withdrawing a little into the shadow of the doorframe. It can’t have heard me, right? I’m too far away.
But no. The bear turns its head and looks, I swear to God, directly at me.
“Shit,” I whisper. Instinctively, I jump back into my room and slam the doors after me. I know that’s ridiculous, that of course, a bear that’s out in the middle of the grounds of this house can’t somehow, I don’t know, break into the first floor, run up the stairs, unlock my bedroom door, and get me.
But still, I latch the French doors just to be safe and dive under my covers, breathing hard.
It’s another good half hour before I finally fall asleep.
“GOOD MORNING, SLEEPINGBeauty,” Rob greets me as I pad into the kitchen, still a little groggy. I squint at him.
“It’s only 7:30.”
He flashes a grin. “I’ve been up for hours. This is my third coffee.” He lifts his mug.
“Want some?” Tuck appears from around the corner bearing a carafe.
“Of course I do,” I say, sliding into a chair. I picked out another pair of jeans, black this time, and a button-down shirt for my work day. It probably is for the best that I don’t know how much they cost, considering they’re going to be soaked with sweat and motor oil by the end of the day.
“You all right there?” That’s Will coming in from the opposite hallway. “You look pretty tired there, greasemonkey.”
I glare at him. “I’ll have you know I didn’t sleep well,” I say. I suck in a breath. “Did you guys know that there are bears out here?”
The reaction is not what I expect. Will frowns, but Tuck chokes back what sounds like a laugh, and Rob raises an eyebrow.
“Bears?” Will says.
“There shouldn’t be bears,” Rob says.
“What did it look like?” Tuck asks.
I shake my head, accepting the cup of coffee that Tuck offers and deciding to answer him first.
“I don’t know...like a bear? I wake up in the middle of the night, and go to my window, and I see it, like...sprinting, if that’s possible. Can bears sprint?” I rub my temples. “It looked absolutely huge. I guess a brown bear or a black bear. It was kind of between colors. I don’t even know what’s native to this area.” I’m babbling, so I bring my coffee mug to my mouth to shut myself up. “Anyway, it kind of spooked me. I didn’t realize they come this close to where humans live.”
“They don’t,” Will says. “Not usually anyway.” He grinds his teeth.
“Well, then, maybe it has rabies or something,” I mutter, and look at Rob. “All I’m saying is maybe you should keep your crossbow loaded and up in the house just in case.”
Now it’s Rob’s turn to laugh, although it’s a little less gleeful sounding than Tuck’s.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says slowly. “But don’t go wandering around at night, okay, Maren? I wouldn’t want you to have any dangerous encounters.”
“Yeah,” Tuck puts in. “Wildlife should know better than to just freely roam around our house like that.” I look from him to Rob to Will, feeling like I’m missing some inside joke. Maybe it’s something to do with hunting, a pastime I’ve never taken up—too many bad experiences associated with the Fox Hunt Club, I suppose.
I try to change the subject.
“No LJ this morning?”
The three of them once again exchange a look.
“He was out late,” Rob says. “It sounds like, anyway.”
“Probably sleeping it off,” Will adds.
I suck in my teeth. “So he’s a big partier?”
“Not exactly,” Rob says after the other guys look at him for a while. “But I guess you could say he’s nocturnal. Excuse me,” he says abruptly. “I need to go make a phone call.” He scoots back from the table and strides out with purposeful, loud steps. Okay, well, maybe he’s not a morning person. I mentally chalk it up to a bad mood and sip my coffee. The caffeine is taking the edge off my wildlife-induced sleep deprivation.
“Breakfast, Maren?” Tuck offers. I shake my head.
“Just coffee for now,” I say. “But thanks.”
“How are the cars looking?” Will asks. “Get in a full day of work yesterday?”
I stretch my neck to the left, then to the right. “And then some,” I say. “I haven’t worked that hard in, well...don’t tell my old boss, but probably ever.”
Will chuckles. “So they’re not beyond saving, then?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, they definitely all need a tune-up. Got some bald tires in there, low oil, but nothing like rust. Rust is cancer. If I’d seen that, I would have done their last rites.”
Tuck laughs at that too. “How’d you get so interested in cars anyway?”
I shrug. “I like seeing how things work, like doing stuff with my hands. And my dad was a car guy, so I don’t know. I guess I’m just genetically predisposed, something in my blood. I feel like it makes me the best version of myself, you know?” I hadn’t really realized that was true until I said it out loud.
Will nods. “I admire someone who values practical skills.”
Tuck snorts. “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Never-Gets-His-Hands-Dirty.”
Will shoots Tuck a look. “I just know when I’m not the best man for the job,” he says. “I prefer to leave some things to the professionals.” He flicks a speck of dust off the knee of his trousers. “So I admire Maren for what she does.”
“Me too,” Tuck says. “Especially considering your parents—”
Something on the back of my neck prickles. “What about them?” I say.
Tuck’s face falls. “Just that...you know,” he stammers. “You lost them in an accident. A car accident.”
Will sweeps his blue eyes from Tuck to me to Tuck again. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Tuck, but something is off. I think back to yesterday, to my conversation with Tuck in the kitchen, to what we had discussed.
“I never said it was a car accident,” I say slowly. “I just said they died.”
Tuck blinks. “Really?” he says, and frowns, “because I could have sworn you—”
“Just a lucky guess,” Will cuts in. He pivots his gaze to me. “Given the family obsession with cars, it does make sense, doesn’t it?”
I grip my coffee mug a little harder. It does. I mean, car accidents kill tons of people every year. I was kind of obsessed with the research in the days after my parents died. But still...
“Yeah, I guess so,” I say, but I don’t fully believe it. “Can we talk about something else? Like just cars?”
Tuck nods. “Absolutely.”
I loosen my shoulders a bit. “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “Anyway, so I need some parts. A lot of parts, actually. But there’s a guy just outside of Nottingham with an auto supply store where I can order them up. Do you think Rob would mind if I went this morning? I can take my car.”
“You shouldn’t go out by yourself,” Will says. “Probably shouldn’t go out at all, really. Let one of us go.”
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah, right.” I lean forward onto the table. “Here’s the thing: I’ve known Jimmy for years. And unless you’re a friend of his, he’s going to rip you off or outright refuse to sell to you. No offense,” I add, even though my tone is dripping with offense, “but if any of you pretty boys show up at his shop, he probably wouldn’t give you the time of day. Just flip the sign to closed and turn off the lights.”
Will works his jaw. Tuck snickers. I glance at my phone.
“It’s Thursday, so he’s open today, at 11. It’ll be a quick drive. I can be there and back in no time.”
“Can’t you just order these things online?” Tuck says.
I smile, tip my head, and reach out to pat the back of his hand. “I’m afraid some things are still pretty old school. And the world of specialty car parts is one of them. These are guys who still write paper checks and use fax machines. But if you need something, they’ll get it to you next day. You kind of just have to work the network. You know what I mean? It’s like a secret society.”
“I see,” Tuck says. He and Will share a look. I’m starting to get really sick of the sense that they have some inside joke I’m not in on.
“Today, you say?” Will says. “I think that you and me are going to be busy.”
Tuck nods. “Rob too.”
“But maybe...” Will sucks in a breath.
Tuck’s eyes go wide behind his glasses. “Oh, that’d be something to see.”
“It’d be good for him,” Will says. “He needs to learn a little respect. And you’re not going to get more intimidating-looking protection than him.”
A sinking feeling settles into the pit of my stomach.
“You guys don’t mean...”
They both look at me.
“Yeah. We’ll send LJ with you.”