Golden Binds
“Which one? We have ten.”
“Exactly. How many people can say they have ten living rooms?”
“Somehow I don’t see that as being much of a story.” There was a hint of disdain in his voice.
“Well, it’s not. But, like I said, I was hoping to find something. So, you see, I’m not dangerous.”
“No.” He stood. The humor had bled from his face. “You’re not dangerous. Just a parasite and a liar.”
He stormed out of the room, and she stared after him in shock. “Well, that went well.”
She guessed he’d fallen for her lie. Problem was, she wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t in a worse position than she’d been in before.
* * *
He stormed into the security room where Joe and Sawyer were waiting.
“She’s a fucking reporter.” He paced up and down the room, fury racing through him. He’d been attracted to her! A fucking bloodsucker.
“No, she’s not,” Sawyer said calmly.
“You heard her, right?” He waved his hand at the TV screen. She was sitting on the floor with her legs drawn up to her chest once more. She looked lost. Innocent. Scared. An act. It was all an act. And he’d fallen for it.
“I can’t believe I fell for her little miss innocent act. Fucking reporter. And to think I fucking cooked for her.”
He’d actually wanted to help her, rescue her. He’d imagined some sob story. She was homeless and hungry. She couldn’t read so she hadn’t known what the signs said, or she’d been so desperate she’d managed to get past all the traps and signs and make her way inside. He’d imagined taking her into his arms and telling her it was all going to be all right. That he’d take care of her.
He ran his hand through his hair. She’d played him.
“She’s not a reporter, Garret,” Sawyer told him.
“What are you talking about?” He paused to glare at his brother.
“She’s lying.”
“You can’t know that. If she’s a reporter, then she’s a born liar.”
“Look, we all know how you feel about reporters—” Joseph began.
“They should all be roasted alive. Fucking burned at the stake until they’re ash in the wind.”
“Right. Well. That’s not a disturbing thought or anything.” Joseph gave him an incredulous look.
“And people think I’m the crackpot,” Sawyer added.
“Why do you think she’s lying?” Garret asked.
Sawyer sighed. “I don’t think. I know. She made that up to throw us off, but it doesn’t explain anything.”
“It explains why she broke in.”
“Does it? And how did she hope to find anything about us by filling her stomach in the pantry?”
“Maybe she got hungry. Reporters might be scum-sucking leeches, but they still have to eat. Too bad she didn’t find the rat poison.”
Joseph shook his head. “We have to get you some therapy.”
“Me?” Garret pointed at Sawyer. “He’s the paranoid one, who thinks the world is out to get him. I just hate reporters. There’s no comparison.”