Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
It’s Denver. His even-tempered nonchalance tingles my scalp. He so easily dons a pleasant smile, his entire demeanor projecting cheer and comfy feelings.
Except I don’t feel comfortable. I feel as though that glowy, good-looking charisma will melt off his face any moment and reveal a flesh-eating, chainsaw-wielding necrophiliac.
“Cooking, cleaning, hunting, gardening.” He ticks off each task on his fingers. “Work isn’t a wolf. It won’t run into the hills. We all do every job, and you’ll learn, too.”
I won’t be sticking around long enough to learn shit.
Denver shifts back to the tray of fish. “Sex is optional, I might add.”
“An unnecessary addition.” Anger burns my cheeks as I raise my voice. “I’m married.”
“So what I’m hearing is…” Wolfson turns his head, his gaze narrowing on Denver. “You didn’t bring home a virgin?”
“Fuck you.” I lunge toward him, fists balled.
Denver captures my arm, halting me.
I yank free of his grip while the other two show no reaction to any of it. I should be thinking about escape, but I’m too distracted by the bizarre family dynamic.
How close are they? Do they fight each other? Or do they always stand together? Do they rape their victims together? Would they die for one another? Are they Team Denver? Or is this an every man for himself situation?
Could I befriend one and turn him against the others?
Leonid and Kodiak haven’t spoken or interacted with anyone. But the house appears organized and put together. No broken furniture, holes in the doors, or busted lips to indicate infighting.
Maybe on the surface, they’re a picture of teamwork and well-bred brotherly love, but I’m not buying it.
What kind of fucked-up family doesn’t react when an abducted woman is brought into their house? I mean, they know I’m here against my will.
Don’t they?
“Your father kidnapped me.” I soak in the blank faces around me and tug a hand through my tangled hair. “Why did he take me? He says sex is optional. Does that mean I’m not here for that purpose? When I say no, will I be heard and obeyed? I’m having a hard time believing that after I screamed and protested and fought when he abducted me from my home in Sitka. And when he restrained me, tranquilized me, and locked me in a box. I said no over and over again, and he didn’t listen.” I suck in a searing breath and meet Denver’s unreadable stare. “Me being here isn’t optional. Nothing about this is optional, consensual, or willing!”
Crickets.
The sound of silence buzzes through the room, deafening in its absence of surprise. No one exchanges looks. Their complete lack of response wrings my stomach with sickening confirmation.
None of them will help me. They’re all in on this…whatever this is.
TV screens hang on the walls in every room, but I don’t see cable boxes, satellite dishes, cameras, or computer equipment. Denver had a cell phone in Sitka, but would it even work here? There are no landline phones or handheld devices in sight. Nothing that connects Hoss to the outside world.
Are they truly, completely isolated from everyone and everything?
“Dinner will be ready soon.” Denver passes a mixing bowl to Leonid. “Wolf, give Frankie a tour and show her where she’s sleeping.”
“Uh…” He yawns. “Where’s she sleeping?”
“Figure it out.”
“Thanks for choosing me.” Tone thick with sarcasm, he rolls to his feet with about as much enthusiasm as I feel.
I have to get out of here.
If Wolfson is the only one guarding me for the next few minutes, I may have a chance.
10
Frankie
—
I follow Wolfson up the staircase, using this reprieve from Denver to summon some damn courage. Not that Wolfson isn’t a threat. He just hasn’t hogtied me, stabbed me with a syringe, or made promises to toss my corpse into the Prince William Sound.
Yet.
With only one of them watching over me, this is my chance to get some answers and make an escape. Except the more I think about what I need to do, the harder my heart pounds.
When we reach the landing, Wolfson veers right. With a cigarette perched between his lips and a small box tucked beneath an arm, he moseys along with no fucks to give. He hasn’t spoken to me once since the tour began.
I pause, waiting quietly, and just as I suspected, he continues his stroll along the catwalk without me. Is he so strung out that he’s oblivious to my presence? Or does he simply not care?
Silently, I pivot and tiptoe back toward the stairs.
“Nuh-uh-uh.” He exhales with a long, audible puff of smoke. “I haven’t finished the tour.”
“Tour?” I spin back, keeping my voice out of the earshot of the others downstairs. “What the fuck are we doing? Denver abducted me. I’m married. I have a career, and he ripped me away from my life. I don’t want a fucking tour. I want to go home.”