Page 14 of My Three Enemies
“I understand why you guys are paranoid about me, but you have to trust me when I tell you I want nothing to do with my father.” I say. “You can consider me an ally.” I meet each of the eyes with a confident gaze. I mean every word.
For the first time, in my life I'm around people who know what kind of monster my father is and they're not just going to placate me and make me think I'm wrong.
“You guys can tell me what's really going on. If I can help you, I will,” I promise.
Gray’s lips part starts to speak while the others set their forks down, eyes on him. Whatever their secret is, it's Gray's decision about whether or not I know it, and they're waiting to see what he does just like I am.
Suddenly, he turns his attention toward the window and jumps out of his chair. Gray dashes to the window and peers through the blinds, Dax and Jackson following suit with tense shoulders.”
“What's going on?” I ask, getting up and following them halfway to the window.
“There's a helicopter approaching,” Gray says, not taking his eyes from the window.
I try listen, but I don't hear anything. There's a part of me that wonders if they actuallydohear these things, or if it's some kind of delusion.
“Fuck!” Jackson shouts, wheeling around and rushing away. Dax and Gray flick their attention to me.
“Emma, I mean it this time: No matter what happens, you have to stay in the house,” Gray warns.
I nod slowly while he and Dax both to the front door. I'm practically frozen from fear. I don't know what the hell is going on.
What are thesenoisesthey keep hearing?
Is this my father looking for me?
The door slams shut and I rush over to the kitchen window and peek through the blinds to try and get an eye on whatever’s happening. I see the three brothers jump off the porch, ripping their clothes off and throwing them to the ground. My brow furrows, not understandingwhythey would do that in the freezing cold weather.
But then, Gray drops to the ground on all fours, his back contorting wildly as an inhuman growl escapes his throat. I stiffen in alarm as I watch Dax and Jackson do the same.
What the hell is going on?
It looks like their bones snap and morph into a bigger version of themselves. Then, they transform into something different altogether. Fur spurts where flesh used to be. Hands turn into massive claws.
Standing in front of the house, powerful muscles clenched to spring into a charge, are suddenly three bears, the same bears I saw when I tried to flee the cabin.
I jerk away from the window in shock and clutch the locket around my neck, trying to make sense of what I just saw. I feel catatonic as I put the pieces together. What I just saw is insane. I try to tell myself I made it up, that I’m seeing things, but I can't.
Because I remember Gray's eyes turning black when he was kissing me on the couch. I remember how the brothers havebeen able to hear things so keenly that I never heard a thing. In its own strange way, it makes perfect sense.
Time ticks by and I count the seconds anxiously, waiting for the front door to open and their boots to thud along the wooden floors. Three minutes pass and they don't return. Then five.. Then ten. And despite everything, the longer they're gone, the more I worry.
What if something happens to them while they're gone?I'm the reason they're in danger right now. My father is looking for me, and I potentially led him right to the doorstep of three very people he wants to destroy.
A crashing noise at the back of the house startles me and I jump up to my feet, knocking the chair I was in down with a clatter. I rush to the knife block to grab a blade, holding it in front of me.
Footsteps approach the kitchen door, and I try to come up with a plan on the spot, but I can't. The door is kicked open and two men I recognize part of my father's guards storm in with guns. They lower their weapons when they see it's me, then both of them swarm to my side.
“Back the fuck up!” I shout, brandishing.
With no effort whatsoever, one guard disarms me and the knife falls to the ground. He tries to grab me and I struggle against him, unwilling to go without a fight. But I’m not strong enough. Eventually, he’s able to restrain both of my arms behind my back. Subdued, I’m led toward the kitchen door.
“It’s time for you to come home,” he says through gritted teeth.
11
Home.
The last place I want to be, and a very interesting word choice from the guard who dragged me back to my bedroom. This house was never at home to me. I've only known it as a prison.
