Page 59 of Martyr
Wolfe and Daniel sit at the kitchen table. There’s another, larger table in the dining room that we’ve been using for meals. Antonio and Vittoria have made themselves comfortable in the kitchen, preparing various meals.
“Where’s Saint?” I ask.
Wolfe frowns. “Upstairs, maybe?”
Maybe.
I don’t know why I asked—I had a bad feeling.Havea bad feeling. I go upstairs and pause outside the door to the room he’s been sharing with Reese and Daniel. I’ve been sleeping on anair mattress in Antonio and Vittoria’s room, leaving the mystery guest alone in the last guest room.
I knock. There’s rustling, and after a moment, Reese pulls the door inward. He smiles when he sees me, stepping aside to allow me in.
He reaches out and brushes at my shoulder. “Is it snowing?”
“A bit.”
“The droplets of water clinging to your hair say otherwise.”
I frown. I guess I was outside longer than I thought. It seems like the first flakes had only just begun to fall when I stood up from the edge of the cliff wall and made my way back. The sky is gray this morning, the water a churning, white-capped midnight blue.
It’s not water I would want to jump into, even from an easy height like this.
“I was hoping to find Saint.” I look around the room. “He’s not hiding in the closet, is he?”
Reese smirks. “Literally? No.”
My cheeks heat. “Okay. Well…”
I back out of the room, leaving him to… whatever he was doing. With a quick shake of my head, I pivot away.
But that does give me an idea as to where Saint has slunk off to. Anger spikes through me. I rush downstairs, to the basement door that should be locked. It swings open easily.
Damn it, Saint.
I keep my footsteps light, my restraint barely holding on, and make my way silently into the basement. It’s divided into a few rooms, only one of which my brother and his partners have done anything about. There’s a couch and a few chairs facing a wall-mounted television, game controllers strewn around, and a fridge tucked off to the side that I suspect holds mainly beer. I bypass that and the door to the laundry room, pausing outside the room where they’re holding Kade.
To be fair—it is set up to be a bedroom. I caught a glimpse when I followed them down on our arrival and spotted a mattress on the floor, sheets and blankets folded on the end of it with a pillow, and an open doorway to a small bathroom.
The door is shut, but voices drift out from under it.
Kade wouldn’t be talking to himself, which means—ding, ding, ding—I’ve found Saint.
I grit my teeth against the sudden wave of anger that heats my skin.
I twist the knob and shove, bursting into the room. I half expect to catch them doing something they shouldn’t, but… no.
Kade sits on the edge of the bed, his long torso leaned back, propped on his hands. His legs are spread wide, but he’s fully clothed.
Saint stands by the half-sized window in the far corner. The lights are off, and that glass provides the only light source. It’s too much like Terror for my liking. The room, the high window…
At least there’s a bed in here. Access to a bathroom.
Oh, and no one is making Kade perform sexually against his will.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask Saint.
He rolls his eyes. “Talking.”
“Saint,” Kade says in a low voice. His tone…
