A little better dressed than the other guys, but he did say ‘we’. Are they trying to make sure we keep misbehaving, he’d said.
He was a prisoner, too. He was the alpha Will spoke of.
Micah nodded at him before tossing me a scowl, and the alpha came back, regarding me.
“My apologies for them.” He pressed a hand to his chest, coming in. “Sincerely.”
But I shoved him back before he got any closer, his pressed white shirt now smudged with my dirt. “Get away from me.” And then I looked to Will. “Will!” I barked.
He just stood there, his gaze rising to meet mine without a care in the world.
“Will!” Jesus, snap out of it!
To hell with this. I ran for the stairs, jiggling the double doors to get out.
“I wouldn’t try that,” the alpha said. “It’s cold, I’m guessing you don’t know how to hunt, and believe me when I say you can walk a day in every direction and see nothing but your own footprints when you finally give up and drag your freezing ass back here because you have no other choices.”
I growled, pushing and slamming my body into the doors, but all I could hear were chains on the other side, holding it secure.
“Give it back to her,” I heard him say behind me.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing him speak to Rory who now held my knife, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it.
He narrowed his eyes. “She sliced Micah,” he argued.
The alpha stepped up to him, looked down into his eyes and didn’t say another word. Rory tightened his lips and stalked over, tossing me the knife, now sheathed.
I caught it, stepping down off the stairs and holding it firmly in my fist.
“I’m Aydin,” the alpha said, looking at me. “Aydin Khadir. No one will touch you again. You have my word.”
“Your word…” I almost laughed. “Does that mean anything when all I know about you is that you were despicable enough to get locked up in here?”
He quirked a smile, walking over to a small steel door on the wall and opening it.
Flames burst inside, and he reached down, taking a couple of logs and tossing them inside the oven. “You may know me,” he retorted, taking the poker and churning the wood. “My family probably owns one of the many sweat shops in Vietnam where your cheap Target blouse was manufactured.”
Taylor laughed, and I steeled my spine.
I watched as Aydin unwrapped a cut of meat from the same white butcher paper I saw on lots of the fare inside the refrigerator upstairs.
Picking it up with his fingers, he slapped it on a metal tray and slid it into the brick oven. I flinched as the flames engulfed it, the oven looking deep enough to hold a whole damn person.
I tensed.
“No one will touch you,” he said, staring at the flames before turning to look at me. “Until you want us to.”
Snickers filled the room, and I licked my lips, unnerved.
“Why am I here?” I demanded.
But he just taunted me. “Right?” he said. “Why are any of us here? We’re all innocent.”
Rory and Micah laughed, and I inched forward, the knife clasped in my hand.
“I’m not a prisoner,” I told him. “I don’t come from wealth. All I remember is leaving my office in San Francisco for lunch and waking up here. Where are we?”
Aydin just stared at the flames, the light dancing across his face.
“She knows Will,” Taylor said.
“Does she?” Aydin looked over his shoulder at Will. “Is she family? Please say it isn’t so.”
Will hung back, his hands in his pocket again as he leaned into the crates. The fire reflected in his gaze as he stared at me.
“Will,” I pleaded.
But he remained quiet.
“He doesn’t seem to know you,” Aydin teased.
I shook my head. “There must be some way to get a hold of security or the people who run this place or—”
Aydin pulled out the steak, sizzling on the tray, and set it on the wooden table, grabbing a knife and fork and cutting the meat.
“We have a kitchen, of course, but the meat is so much better cooked down here.” He looked at me, bidding me over. “You must be hungry. We’re not completely uncivilized. Come here.”
He took a pitcher and poured a glass of water, and my mouth dried even more, seeing how good it looked.
“Your name?” he asked, pushing the glass and pan toward me.
I clamped my mouth shut.
But Will spoke up for me. “Her name is Emory Scott,” he answered.
I shot Will a glare. A smirk danced across his eyes.
“From Thunder Bay, as well?” Aydin asked him.
And Will nodded.
Taylor took back his spot, sitting on the crates behind him and hanging over Will’s shoulder again as everyone watched me.
I stepped a little closer to Will, too angry to care right now.
“Always following,” I taunted him. “Never the leader, and always latching on to anyone who loves you.”
He stared at me.
“Your friends have moved on,” I told him. “Buying up Thunder Bay. Starting families. Probably happy to be rid of their weakest link.” My eyes burned on him. “Even Damon seems happy, judging from the news I catch from home. No falter in his steps as he does just fine without you.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed, and I smiled a little.
Yeah, he didn’t like that.
“Damon…” Aydin murmured, looking over to Will. “Torrance?”
Will remained silent.
“And Michael Crist and Kai Mori, right?” Aydin continued. “I would be jealous you have people who care enough to send help if it weren’t a female a year too late.”
Everyone chuckled.
No one sent me. Someone kidnapped me.
“Took them long enough,” Taylor added. “And we’ve been here the whole time, taking care of him.”
“He’s ours now,” Aydin told me. “The senator’s grandson has elevated his company, my dear. We’re not toys playing at war.”
“No, you’re prisoners playing like you have any power.”
He nodded once, unfazed. “We’ll revisit that topic again another time. Eat.”
The food sat there, the smell permeating the air, and I saw Micah staring at it more than once.
Aydin dug into his steak, taking a bite. Where was their food? I looked at Will, but he still just stared at me.
“I’m not staying here for a month,” I said.
Aydin continued eating and took a drink of water, washing it down.
“Things happen fast in the wild,” he said, cutting another chunk. “Hunting, fishing, hiking, remote as we are…a simple injury can mean death.” He raised his eyes to me. “A simple injury can leave you in a lot of pain.”
He chewed his food and then pushed his plate away, swallowing.
“Micah had an anxiety attack when he first arrived,” he explained, looking at the guy. “Remember that? We had to put him down here for a whole day, because his hysteria was driving us insane.”
I shot my eyes to Micah, his gaze on the floor now. They locked him in here? Because he had a panic attack? He could’ve died.
I begged Will with my eyes, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He wasn’t looking at anything anymore, staring at the floor, same as Micah.