Page 13 of Room Ten: Praise Times Three

Reese says, “We will let no one touch you ever again.”

I stand up and take a couple of steps back, still holding the blanket. “How about I hold the blanket out for you and when you stand up, none of us will look?”

She nods and lets go of the blanket. I unfold it completely and turn my head, waiting for her to stand up. She takes a full minute, which makes me worried about how long she’s been sitting like this and what damage they have done to her. She turns her back and grabs each end of the blanket, wrapping it across her, but it didn’t take a second for me to see the bruises on her upper thigh.

Visceral rage courses through my veins as my eyes snap to Reese, and I know by the look on his face that he saw it, too.

“Can you walk?” I ask her, noticing she stumbles when she takes one step forward. This could be something as simple as being curled up in a tight ball for hours on end, or it could be something more. Considering the bruise on her thigh, dear God, I hope it’s not something more.

She brings her head up for the first time, her hair falling back, revealing to us a myriad of cuts and bruises on her beautiful face. They split her lip, her ocular bone and jawline on the left side bruised, and there’s a minor cut on her cheek bone—presumably from a ring.

“My legs are numb, tingling with pins and needles.”

“If you would permit me, I’ll carry you.”

She hesitates before nodding, pulling the blanket even tighter around her. Reese pulls the chair out further, giving me plenty of room. I swoop her up into my arms and follow Soren out the door, Reese bringing up the rear. I carry her to the truck and deposit her in the backseat. “We need to go secure the house, but I’m locking you inside and will only be gone for a minute. Okay?”

She shakes her head. “Please don’t leave me.”

I look at Soren. “How about my partner stays with you while Reese and I lock up the house?”

She looks at Soren and must find him less intimidating because she nods while tucking her feet back up underneath her ass.

I wordlessly convey to Soren everything he needs to know and nothing he wasn’t thinking on his own. Then Reese and I walk back to the house. Once I’m positive we’re out of earshot, I’ll let the curse words fly. “Motherfuckers. Motherfuckers! If I get a chance, I’m killing that motherfucker.”

Reese nods, his jaw clenched tight, but says nothing.

“Did you see—”

“Yeah, I saw it.” Reese keeps his eyes forward.

“We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Yep.”

“What are we going to do with this asshole?” I motion to the lump hog-tied on the dirt near the Civic.

“Honestly, I don’t think he knows a thing. I asked him where the rest of the crew was, and he said they left hours ago.”

I kicked the piece of shit in the stomach, just to make myself feel better. “Hey, asshole. Tell us what you know.”

“Man, I don’t know nothing. All I know is some chick pays me a thousand bucks to babysit her house. All I had to do was hang out until she got back. She left me with all the beer and weed I could fucking handle and the only rule was I’m not allowed to go into the back bedroom and if anything went down, I’m to call her.”

“How are you supposed to call her?” Reese asks.

“She left me a phone, man.”

“Where did she find you?” I ask.

“Craigslist.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I glance at Reese, who seems just as surprised. “Did you have any idea that there were thugs for hire on Craigslist?”

“Dude, anything is possible on the Internet.”

“I’m not a thug, man. I’m a house sitter.”

“Fucking stoner. Do you have any idea what was in the back bedroom?”

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