“Umph!” She stumbled back. “Darn you, Courage!”
I switched from keeping her prisoner to helping her balance.
The crazy dog didn’t pause, galloping up the staircase, its tail wagging and round belly bouncing on every step.
What on earth is going on here?
Husbands and wives.
Cardigans and pets.
“Courage! Don’t you dare run away from me, you little brat!” A pretty Australian voice yelled, followed by running footsteps. “Why can’t you be more like your brothers and sisters?”
Another woman appeared, slamming to a stop as she found our standoff in the foyer.
Instantly, the love and happiness glowing on her face transformed to chilly assessment. Her eyes hardened, flitting quickly to Franco and Suzette. Instead of asking if her friend was okay or demanding the man with the gun execute me, she crossed her arms and slouched against the door frame. A viper coiled to strike but ready to sniff its prey first. “So…what’s going on?”
Suzette shrugged. “Seems there’s been some kind of mistake.”
Franco snarled. “This bitch won’t let her go.”
I snapped, “I just want to leave.”
All three conversations layered in a messy cacophony with no clear message.
“Interesting.” The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. “Let’s focus on what Suzette just said seeing as I like her the most right now.” She smiled quickly at the maid in my hold, revealing years of history and trust and friendship far beyond anything I’d ever experienced. “You’re up. Tell me…what sort of mistake?”
Suzette laughed, instantly at ease and comfortable enough to turn tension into mirth. “A Q mistake, of course. What else?”
“Ah.” Blondie nodded, biting her lip to stay stern. “Can’t say he’s a saint but what’s he done this time?” Locking eyes with me, she added, “Care to tell me…whoever you are?”
When I didn’t take the hint and give her my name, she tried a less subtle approach, her humour evaporating. “Let’s get something straight. My name is Tess, and that is my very best friend you’ve got.”
She pushed off from the door frame, pointing at Franco who hadn’t lowered his gun. “And that’s her husband who is eerily similar to my husband and won’t hesitate to hurt you if you hurt her.”
Padding barefoot, she came closer, circling around me and Suzette as if we were a museum exhibit.
Her jeans fit snug, showing long legs and curvy hips. Her basic grey blouse billowed over full breasts with the hint of lacy bra underneath. She was one of those lucky women who could wear simple clothing but look effortlessly expensive.
“We’re not in the habit of hurting our guests and in return expect the same courtesy. However, if you don’t let my friend go…we’re going to have a serious problem.”
My heart galloped, smoking with indecisions.
I couldn’t let Suzette go because I couldn’t be left vulnerable. I couldn’t keep up my threat to hurt her because she’d proven to be sane amongst all this crazy, and perhaps, just perhaps, this new captivity was nothing like my last.
All I could do was remain in the current status quo and hope no one shot me. “I just want to go home.”
I sounded pitiful.
Heartbroken.
Riddled with enough pain to lower Franco’s gun and send a flicker of concern over Tess’s face.
Suzette leapt to my defence yet again. “From what I can gather, she was a slave but then it got complicated.”
“Complicated is normally the case when dealing with slaves.” Tess pursed her lips. “You know that as well as I do, Suzette.”
Clasping her hands together, Tess stared at me as if I had it all wrong. As if I didn’t know my own brain and heart. As if she pitied the screwed-up existence I’d bought as real. “Look, let’s try this again. We won’t hurt you, but seeing as this is our home, we’re not comfortable with our guests manhandling loved ones. Let Suzette go and I give you my word Franco won’t shoot and I won’t retaliate. All I ask is you come with me and talk.”
“Go with you where?” My arm shook.
The tricks my mother had taught me to read body language fritzed and misfired. I tried to uncover everyone’s true agenda, but there were too many people at once.
Franco was the easiest to read: cold, aloof, mercenary, but undoubtedly in love with the woman I held. Intelligent and not afraid of dirty work judging by how comfortably he held the gun and the way he helped shoot the Chinmoku last night.
Suzette: slender, shorter than me, came across sweet and courteous but a steel rod ran through her spine, hinting at a ferocious temper.
Tess: sharp-witted, courageous, steadfast. She looked at me with displeasure but beneath that lurked a hint of kinship as if she understood my actions more than she should.
“Nowhere special. Just to the kitchen. We’ll have some tea or coffee…maybe a freshly baked blueberry muffin or two. We’ll keep the weapons and threats far away and just talk.” Tess pointed into the room where she’d come from, completely forgetting the dog she’d been chasing. “I think talking is rather important, don’t you?”