Page 7 of Vargan

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Victor's been buying everything up. Raising rents until people can't pay, then swooping in with offers of just enough to get people out of town. He's selling it all to some developer."

"And you?"

I grip his waist tighter as we cross the street, helping him up the curb. "Greene's was my dad's. The house, the farm—it's all I have left of him. I'm not selling."

He doesn't respond to that, and we navigate the rest of the way in silence. The night air carries the scent of honeysuckle anddust, a familiar smell that does nothing to ease the strangeness of helping a wounded Orc to my front door.

The house comes into view—a two-story farmhouse that's seen better days. The white paint is peeling, the porch sags slightly, but it's home. My home. The one thing I won't let Victor take from me.

"Willie?" I call as we enter. No answer. He must be at Jacob's again. Usually it pisses me off that he spends more time at his friend's house than at home, but tonight, I'm thankful.

I lead Vargan to the living room, gesturing to the couch. "It's not much, but—"

"It's fine," he says, lowering himself carefully onto the cushions. They protest under his weight but hold.

I stand there awkwardly, suddenly aware of how insane this is. I've brought a strange man—no, not even a man, an Orc—into my home. A fighter. Someone dangerous enough that Victor wants him as a weapon.

He shouldn't be staying in my house. Not with Willie around. But if I let him leave, he won't make it out of town before Victor picks him up.

"I'll get you some blankets," I say, retreating to the linen closet.

When I return, Vargan has removed his leather jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch. I quickly check it for weapons—a move that doesn't escape his notice.

"I don't carry guns," he says quietly.

"Smart, considering," I reply, avoiding his eyes as I hand him the blankets.

His backpack sits on the floor beside him—small for someone his size, like it contains only the essentials. An escape kit.

"Anything else I can get you?" I ask.

"Water," he says almost apologetically. "And some painkillers if you have any."

"Right, of course." I rush to the kitchen, grateful for something to do. I fill a glass with water and grab the bottle of pills from the cabinet. How many would an orc his size need to dull the pain? I don’t have a clue.

When I return, he's leaning back with his eyes closed, looking every bit as exhausted as I feel. He opens them as I approach, taking the offerings with a nod of thanks.

"One night," I remind him, then reach down and pick up his backpack. His eyes narrow, but he doesn't protest. "I'll keep this safe for you."

I think he’s going to argue, but he sinks back into the couch, and his eyes roll closed.

I retreat to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. I set his backpack on the floor, then think better of it. I slide it under my bed, out of sight. I don’t want to be tempted to snoop, but I also don’t want him to have easy access to anything he could use against me.

As I change into sleep clothes, the last hour crashs over me like a rogue wave. An Orc in my living room. Victor and Royce, more dangerous than ever. The diner, a mess that Helen and I will have to deal with tomorrow.

I crawl into bed, exhausted but wired. Every creak of the house makes me tense. After twenty minutes of staring at the ceiling, I get back up and push my dresser in front of the door. He is an Orc, after all, and a little lock won't stop him if he decides to come in.

I return to bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. He'll be gone tomorrow, and things can return to normal. Or what passes for normal in Shadow Ridge these days.

But as I drift toward sleep, I can't shake the memory of his eyes—amber, intelligent, wounded—or the way something inside me responded to his touch. Something I haven't felt since...

No. Don't go there, Savvy. Remember what happened last time you trusted a man who seemed different. Remember how that turned out.

Tomorrow, he'll be gone. And that's for the best.

It has to be.

Chapter Three

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