SIX
Decima
I trieda few times to stand and approach the door, but when I nearly crashed to the floor on my third attempt, I waited until the dizziness in my head had faded. The last thing I needed was to approach Julius weakened and unable to defend myself if it became necessary.
It wasn’t until the daylight outside beamed with the full brightness of mid-day that I managed to take several experimental steps around the room without wobbling. I tested my newfound strength by changing from my blood smeared clothes which were stiff from drying on me after getting drenched by the rain, into a fresh pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from my tote bag.
When I felt confident enough in my ability to stay steady, I walked to the door. I clutched the handle with more confidence. Sure, my ribs hurt, and my wrist ached, but all of that was manageable pain.
Whatever needed to be done so I could get out of here, I’d make it happen.
I twisted the knob. It turned easily, no longer locked. Every nerve on the alert, I eased the door open.
The walls in this place must have been thick, because I’d only caught faint murmurs through them before, nothing I’d been able to decipher as words. The moment I peered into the wider room outside, a rush of sound washed over me.
It was an open-concept space, nothing but a kitchen island separating any part of it into specific zones. To my right, in the kitchen area, Julius was standing by a slim man with pale red hair who was talking animatedly while spinning his fork in a plate of spaghetti.
“But the size of that thing! It’s not just a snake, it’s a fucking green anaconda. Seventeen feet long! It’d eat you and a hundred snakes for breakfast.”
“You’ve got to stop watching those documentaries,” muttered another man who was standing beyond them by the stove. “Or at least quit it with the random fact regurgitation.” His pale, shaggy hair sparked a sense of recognition—he must be the one who’d talked to me last night at the crash scene after Julius.
At the same time, a dull thudding reverberated from the other side of the room, catching my attention next. A fourth man, his shaved head gleaming under the recessed lights and lean muscles flexing over every inch of his body, was slamming his fists into a dangling punching bag in rapid succession. He stepped back, bouncing on his toes, before going back in for the metaphorical kill. His technique impressed even me, and I’d been practicing all forms of combat my entire life.
His lean, sculpted physique spoke of years of training too. Not just strength but discipline. The sweat dampening his shirt emphasized those planes even more, and an errant thought slipped through my mind: What would it be like to run my fingers over those muscles?
A flicker of heat tingled over my skin, and I yanked myself back to reality. What was it about these guys that kept pulling my head in ridiculous directions? I had a job to do, and as far as I knew, all four of them stood in my way.
I stepped over the threshold, and the door I was still holding squeaked. The room fell silent in an instant. The three men in the kitchen turned toward me, even the redhead pausing with his spaghetti-laden fork halfway to his mouth. The man at the punching bag lowered his arms and turned my way with studied precision. For a second, I found myself pinned by his icy blue eyes, even from ten feet away.
“Dess,” Julius said, and my attention snapped to him. I kept tabs on the guy with the shaved head from the corner of my eye. Turning my back on any of these men felt like a dangerous game.
Julius smiled, subdued but warm, as if we were all friends here. Yeah, right. “How are you feeling now?” he asked.
“Better,” I admitted. That much would be obvious, considering I’d made it this far without tripping over my feet.
Should I ask to leave again? Apprehension held my tongue. They’d been careful about it, but it’d seemed pretty clear these guys didn’t really want to take me anywhere. Were they just run-of-the-mill pricks, or did they know something about me and maybe even the massacre at the household after all? I had no idea how much of the story Julius had given me I should believe.
If I acted like I was in a hurry to get out of here, they’d go on the defensive. Better for me to study them a little and get a better sense of what I was up against before I made my escape, especially when I had injuries slowing me down.
“It’s good to see you on your feet,” the redhead said with a grin, recovering his previous exuberance. “Dess is an interesting name. I don’t suppose you’ve got a last name too?”
I wasn’t sure why that mattered, but I had my alias all lined up anyway. “Parker,” I said briskly, and glanced around the room, the back of my neck prickling with the sense of having all four pairs of eyes still fixed on me. “You all know my name now, but I only know one of yours.”
Julius raised his eyebrows at the others. The first to speak was the man by the stove. He flicked on the burner under a kettle and turned toward me. “Garrison,” he said, raising a hand in greeting. Yes, that was definitely the voice I’d heard with the blond guy last night.
There was something unsettlingly perfect about his smile, as if he’d picked the exact right angle of his lips to convey friendly warmth. Maybe it was because the warmth he seemed to be conveying didn’t match the irritated tone he’d spoken to the redhead with just a minute ago. He’d made a similar switch in attitude last night, hadn’t he?
He looked to be the youngest of the bunch, early to mid-twenties if I had to guess, but there was something older in the steadiness of his gaze.
The redhead smiled too, but his grin was a little crooked and overwide, which made it feel more genuine. I figured he was in his twenties too, though closer to the other end. He glanced around at his companions. “I like her.” Then he met my eyes, his own dark ones sparkling with curiosity. “I’m Blaze, and he’s Talon,” he said, gesturing to the man who had been pounding the punching bag moments ago, who let out a grunt of acknowledgment.
Blaze. That’d be easy to remember with that hair, which fell past his ears, nearly long enough that he could have pulled it into a ponytail. And Talon… I couldn’t think of a name more fitting for a man who looked built for mowing people down.
Julius had mentioned time in the army. The younger guys didn’t look military-fit, but Talon was. Had he and Julius served together, maybe? The shaved head made it harder to tell, but I thought they were about the same age.
I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with the lives of regular people, but it was a little odd for all four of them to be here in this apartment together, wasn’t it? I took another careful step forward, putting on a smile of my own as if I was relaxing into their company. If I seemed to let down my guard, they’d be more likely to let down theirs.
“Julius mentioned that you’re all friends,” I said. “And roommates too, I guess? Or are you family or something?”