Page 6 of Ruthless Beasts

But a closer look around informed me he wasn’t the only one. Small cottages dotted the property, tucked into the landscape of overgrown weeds and trees past needing trimming. The grass was nearly two feet high and swayed gently in the breeze.

The car stopped, and without a single glance, Ferrari got out, slamming his door as he stomped up the steps, leaving me in the brute's care. “He’s just… it will take adjusting is all. He hadn’t planned to take you.”

“Yet here I am.” I spread my arms wide.

“Sometimes the temptation for revenge is too much to pass up. He’s earned it.” He looked sad for a moment. “We all have.”

“Revenge has nothing to do with me.” I bit my lip, refusing to cry.

“Maybe not, but sometimes innocent people are caught in the crossfire. Come on, you can’t stay in here all day.”

I could if they let me. There was nothing for me in that massive house, that was for sure. But when he offered his hand to help me out, I took it, even if it went against everything my body was screaming at me to do. He pulled me out of the car door, which wasn’t even child locked, then slammed the door shut. There was no going back. We walked two steps away before he stopped and opened the passenger seat, reached into the glove box, and took out more candy. He offered them to me, likethey would make up for the fact that I was a prisoner. I took them begrudgingly because, damn it, they eased the discomfort.

He didn’t rush me up the steps, only waited silently as I slowly walked up, and I made it excruciatingly slow. I didn’t want to go through those doors. When I did, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see the other side again. Would he let me out? Or would I be locked in a room, never to see the light of day again?

I wanted to ask, but the man next to me, well, he’d killed a man without a single blink. I couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust a single word he said. Anything spoken would only be to pacify me in this moment, and while I could see the desire and need to do so, I couldn’t let them take pieces of me so willingly. I couldn’t let them take my will or my fight.

I’d escape this place.

“If you run, the property borders are patrolled and fenced. You won’t even make it ten feet out of the house,” he informed me, and I had no clue how he knew what I was thinking.

“I wasn’t going to run,” I lied.

“You think I’m to believe you would just roll over and give up? Not the way you were pounding on my back at the church.”

I hated that he had a point.

The gate in the distance squeaked as it opened for a train of cars, and I froze as I watched all the men coming toward us. All the enemies. All my jailers.

“It won’t be so bad. He’s fair, believe that. He won’t treat you badly.”

“He killed men,” I pointed out, my voice so weak as fear creeped in, already digging into my bones.

“We all have. Doesn’t mean we are bad people; just means we protect what we care about.”

Protect what they cared about… except I’d known them all of an hour, if I could even use the word known. They didn’t careabout me. I was a pawn on a chessboard, a game piece to be used to win.

“You don’t know me.” I buried my fingers in the silk of my dress, clinging tightly to the only thing I could, the only thing I took with me into this place.

“Doesn’t mean you aren’t ours to protect. Come on, little girl, it’s chilly out, and I’d hate for you to catch a cold.” He turned his back on me just as the cars pulled to a stop in the driveway.

Little girl. I was hardly a girl any longer. I was twenty-three years old. An adult by every standard. How dare this man insult me. I chased after him, catching up as he crossed the threshold. “I’m not a little girl.”

“Prove it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I stuttered the words out.

“Exactly what it sounds like.” He raised a brow as he looked at me over his shoulder. “I’ll show you to your room. You can get a tour later.”

“But—“

“Despite what you think, I’m not your babysitter,” he cut me off. “Little girl.”

I could stomp my feet at how condescending he was. “I’m not a little girl.”

“Then stop sniveling about your situation and make the most of it.” He turned right down a hallway, the path leading us to a dark, ill-lit passage. “Our rooms are in this wing.”

“Am I … sharing?” My heart throbbed. The thought that I would have to lie with that man never crossed my mind. I didn’t want it. Didn’t want to wake up every morning to his grotesque face looking at me. Or see his scarred fingers against my skin. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it.

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