Page 6 of Claimed By Her Monsters
I’m left on the floor, staring after them while my finger bleeds and my pulse jackhammers wildly in my throat.
“What the fuck was that?”
Chapter Five
Social Butterfly
Iexpect Alister or the lumberjack to come back, but it’s a different man who comes in next. He’s younger, maybe in his late teens to early twenties. Tall and thin, like he’s been stretched out. Baggy black hoodie, black jeans slung low on a narrow waist. His hair is dark and shaggy, hanging in his brown eyes which are shadowed. He slinks into the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and hovers a few feet away, staring at me from the corner of his eye like he’s incapable of looking at me head-on.
Alister has some weird friends.
“Hi?” I say uncertainly once the silence becomes unbearable.
“Hey.” He nods, eyes darting around the space.
Right. Social butterfly. Guess it’s on me. With an exaggerated sigh, I point to myself and enunciate slowly, like I’m teaching a caveman English. “I’m Madison.”
His head dips. “Caspian.”
“Where’d the other two go?” I ask.
“Outside. Alister had to cool off.”
Wow. Two whole sentences. Progress.
Another minute and he’s suddenly beside me, helping sweep up the wreckage. He moves around the kitchen like he knows it well, pulling out a broom and dustpan, dumping shards into the trash. Then he fills two glasses with water and hands me one, keeping the other for himself.
“You were thirsty?” he asks, not taking a sip.
“Yeah, thanks.” I drink, studying him over the rim of the glass as I wonder what my next move should be. I don’t want to go back upstairs and sit by myself. That nap left me too awake, too full of energy. “What’re you guys up to?” I ask, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
I couldn’t be more surprised with his answer.
“Monopoly.”
“What?” I ask, certain I heard him wrong, but nope, he repeats, “Monopoly,” in that same monotone voice of his.
I suck in a breath, gather my courage, and ask, “Can I play too?”
Chapter Six
If The Shoe Fits...
I’m the shoe. The little metal game piece warms slowly in my palm before I set it on the square markedCollect $200 salary as you pass GO.
I settle onto crossed legs, sitting on the floor in front of the low coffee table in the living room where they have the game set up. My glass of water rests next to my hand, on a wooden coaster with a picture of a seashell on it.
Caspian deals out my share of Monopoly money, his long fingers moving quick and precise. I line it up into neat piles in front of me—tens, twenties, fifties, one- and five-hundreds—like order might keep the weirdness of this night at bay.
He says they’ve just started this round, so it’s the perfect time for me to join. Then he flashes a thin-lipped smile. It looks wrong on his face, like someone pasted it there, but against all logic it calms me. Maybe because it feels like effort, like he’s trying for me. Like he wants me to like him but doesn’t know how to make that happen. He’s clumsy, awkward, and also weirdly endearing.
I’ve just smiled back at him, my widest grin, when a voice slices through the air like a whip against skin.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Alister stands a few feet away, shoulders rigid, eyes locked on me. They’re blue now, no trace of the black, but that doesn’t soften the glare. “She can’t play with us.”
Just like that, I’m ten again, shunned on the playground for being too weird. Only this time there’s no mom to run home to, no arms to hug away the pain in my chest. For a second I almost press my palm there to ease the sting, but instead I suck in a breath, force my chin up, and plant my hands on my hips. “Why not?”
