Room One

Kandy

“What the hell? Why doesn’t the phone work?”

Ryder takes the phone and does a couple of things trying to get it to turn back on but no, nada.

“Dead. All the damn phone calls you’ve been making, man. How the hell did you forget to charge the damn thing?”

“Doesn’t matter now. We have more phones.”

“She’s right. Let’s calm down. Get the lights back on. The generator should kick in…”

And that is where my plan turns the corner into chaos. This I definitely didn’t see coming.

Atlas’ words are cut off by a massive fireball and a gust of force that knocks out the kitchen windows.

The cabin rattles. Glass flies, the tiny knife-like fragments slice along my skin.

A scream slices through the night. I don’t realize it’s me doing the screaming until two hundred pounds of male lands on top of me and I go down to the carpet. I can’t tell which way is up for a second. Snow blasts through the busted-out windows. Flakes of ice meet the scorching hot pot of stew giving off a sizzling sound. It’s the only thing I hear outside the howling wind.

I stare at the windows for a long second wondering what the hell went wrong. Did someone forget to care for the generator, and it just exploded or what?

Yeah, I wish I hadn’t even thought of the question because I don’t like the answer.

I learn fast it’s nothing accidental, and we are not alone on our side of the lake.

Hailing bullets ricochet off the stainless-steel countertop and hanging cast iron skillets. Sharp brown eyes pierce mine and the second I turn to meet Atlas’s gaze I see the man turn into warrior mode.

Ryder and Brogan are already pulling on their pants. The glow of the fire is the only source of light we have and it’s fighting for its life in the whirling winds as much as we are.

Brogan tosses clothes at me, and I don’t ask where or how they got them. The dryer maybe? I just shove my feet into a pair of jeans and button up one of Brogan’s shirts. Forget a bra.

Beside me I find a pair of fuzzy slippers and put my toes into them. It’s fiercely cold and I blame that for why my fingers tremble over the buttons.

Atlas takes over and helps me after finding his own pants. None of them have shoes or shirts and there’s glass everywhere.

“This way,” he bellows over the rushing winds. Thinking we are all going to safety I follow. But the second I turn around I see I’m being pushed into a laundry room where without the fire it’s darker and colder.

Nah. This Texan chick doesn’t huddle and cower.

“Fuck you, Atlas. Give me a gun. You have my back. I have yours.”

Shadows hide his expression, but the silhouette of his locked stance can be seen just fine. He actually thinks he’s going to win this. I shove at him, and Ryder comes up from behind with weapons I never saw unloaded from the SUV in hand.

“Where did those come from?”

“Upstairs armory.”

Another wave of bullets and Atlas is moving me deeper inside the laundry room. I shove right back, take a Glock from Ryder, and check the clip for rounds. “I’m tired of running. Hiding. Looking scared. This ends tonight.”

Though I can’t see their eyes I can feel their shock. “Justice and her men take me to target practicing twice a month. They’ve taught me a few things.”

“Remind us to thank them.”

I know if he really wants, Atlas can lock me in this room and I’d never win a battle of strength. I guess I’m lucky enough to have men willing to listen to me.

“Keep the gun but stay here. You see anyone who isn’t us, shoot. Follow our instructions and you’ll be safe. We have to put out the fire before it spreads.”

“But make sure it’s not us.”

“Then don’t leave me alone and I won’t mistake you for someone else.”

Ryder chuckles a dark-sounding laugh. “Stay here. You’ll be safe. We’ll be right back.” And true to their nature, they slip soundlessly into the night.

I take stock of my surroundings. Something I should have done when I first arrived.

Flashlight. There’s nothing in the laundry room so I head to the kitchen.

“There you are, you whoring bitch. It didn’t take long to get them away from you. Pathetic.”

I whirl around to face someone just as they step into the kitchen. With no window in the frame reaching in and unlocking it was just a pesky nuisance.

I pull my gun, aim down the barrel. Only the snow in my eyes doesn’t let me get a good aim. Fake it till you make it. “I swear I will shoot you. Get away from me.” I pop off a warning shot. “The next one goes in your head.”

“Right. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. No way you’ll shoot me.”

The shadowed attacker lunges across the kitchen and I fling the boiling pot of soup in his face.

I look around for some source of light when I find a cell phone. My heart is in my throat and my fingers are near freezing. Asshole extraordinaire is screaming and on his knees. This is my only chance.

I flick on the screen and tap the flashlight app.

A blaze of white light fills the darkened kitchen and I turn it on the man.

“Oh my God!”

I stumble back and barely keep from dropping the phone and my gun.

“Mr. Mackay.”

Lips peel back in a grimace. “I told you I would keep you safe. Why did you have to go to that filthy place? All you needed was me.” He has a bottle of something with him and I immediately realize it’s gas. He starts flinging the flammable liquid all over the place.

My thudding heart rattles in my chest.

I try to piece together this man’s puzzle but I’m not connecting all the dots.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re my driver? I’ve never shown interest in dating you. Never gave you any indication I even wanted to.”

“You left your phone in my car. I saw your dating profile. Who do you think you stood up, you stupid bitch? That’s when I knew you needed help.”

“Me? I’m not the one pouring gas all over a kitchen, you asshole!”

It all makes sense now.