“What do you know about us? You mentioned me being a Bastard before you drugged me.” He gets to his feet, the pain of his wounds void on his features as he closes in, shrinking me. His frame is so much bigger than my own, I become lost in his shadow.
“I’m from Little Rock. Everyone knows who they are.”
He reaches up, rubbing the pad of his thumb near the corner of my eye. I can taste his breath on my lips as he tilts forward and whispers, “You get a twitch when you lie. You might want to work on that.”
I can’t feel my face. My lungs have seized. “Go check the medicine cabinet. See if there’s any pain medication in there. I’ll check the house for weapons,” he announces, letting me off the hook. I gasp for air as he moves away from me, my body uncoiling.
“Wait! I think my sister said they keep a weapons locker in the basement,” I breathe, pointing to the kitchen. Lily didn’t speak much about her grandparents, and I was always busy with my own life to ever come here. We saw each other randomly when we’d stay with Jameson on holidays. Apart from that, she would stay with him during the week since it was closer to school, and I’d stay with him on the weekends before I moved into the college dorm.
“Ruby,” he barks, and I jolt. He’s glaring at me. “You get medication, I’ll get guns.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Eight
Carnage
My wounds are on fire, but if I don’t go with her, she’ll get herself killed. I don’t understand her to need to save the woman who used her and got her in this fucked up situation in the first place. I’ve never been able to understand other human beings. They’re tied to emotions I don’t seem to possess. Opening the door to the basement, I flick the switch. Nothing happens. Fucking perfect. I need to get out of this shithole.
Walking down the steps, a waft of something fucking awful hits my nose. It’s rancid. Backed up sewer pipes or something dead. I hit the bottom step and want to hold my breath. Putrid smog clings to the air, suffocating it.
My eyes slowly adjust. A counter is built in against the far wall, an array of tools laid out, including a flashlight. Blowing the dust off it, I flick it on, surprised when a beam of light illuminates from the end. I inspect the space. The ceiling light has been smashed, shards of glass littering the floor. Stacks of boxes line another wall, dates and names written on them. I locate the gun cabinet, a laugh barking out of me when the key is in the lock. What’s the fucking point of having a safety cabinet if you’re going to leave the key in it?
Opening it up, the door nearly comes off the hinges. It looks like it’s been raided, empty spaces for weapons that no longer hang there.
“What the fuck?” There are a couple weapons left. An old hunting rifle and a colt you’d see in a classic cowboy movie. Bullets are stacked on a shelf next to a small switchblade. This shit will have to do. Closing the cabinet, I make my way over to the stairs, the flashlight igniting them for me this time. My feet falter as the stench intensifies and the light lands on something beneath the steps.
“Shit,” I exhale.
Covering my mouth with my forearm, I shine the light over the two dead bodies. Gray hair. A woman and man. By the look of them, they’ve been here a while. Didn’t she say her sister told her the grandparents went away on vacation? Fuck. This is a problem for another day. First, we go get her mother. Getting to the top of the stairs, Ruby is waiting for me with a raised brow.
“Hey, so I found some Acetaminophen.” She holds up a prescription bottle for a June Scott then she walks over to the counter, rubbing the back of her neck. “And oddly Rohypnol. What they’re doing with that, I don’t know, but there was a lock on the cabinet I had to break. Appears you had some luck.” She looks around me, scrunching up her nose. “What’s that smell?”
“There’s a dead raccoon. Must have gotten in through the open window. I closed it but stay out. It could have diseases.” I warn her.
“Gross. Not a problem. I’ll stay well clear of the basement.” She shudders, taking the rifle from my shoulder. “This stuff looks kinda old.”
“It is old. Hopefully it still works.”
“Oh, and I found car keys and their car in the garage. I guess they didn’t need it where they were going.” She smiles. They sure as hell didn’t.
“I just need some clothes,” I say, filling the colt with bullets. Her eyes dance over my bare skin brazenly.