Rowan makes a noise at the back of his throat, and my eyes flutter open.
“S—sorry,” I say, glancing away. “Thank you for the hoodie.”
“Don’t thank me,” he huffs, opening the front door. “It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing to me, but the growing scowl on his face makes me not want to say anything. This man seems far nicer thanhis brother or father, but the last thing I want to do is test his patience.
The porch squeaks as he steps out, his scowl deepening when his gaze lands on my bare feet.
“Shit, they didn’t give you any shoes, did they?”
“N—no,” I say, shaking my head.
“Of course not,” he huffs. “Can I carry you? I don’t want you to hurt your feet.”
“O—okay.” I give him a shaky nod, my fingers curling into the sleeves of the hoodie.
He lifts me up, one arm underneath my legs and the other holding my upper body. My arms slowly wrap around his neck to give me something to do before I try to take in my surroundings.
It looks like we’re on some type of farm with dirt roads and various buildings scattered about the flat land.
“Wow,” I say, staring up at the clouds. “They’re so pretty.”
“Huh?” He asks, his brows drawing down in confusion.
“The clouds. They’re so... big!” They fill the sky all the way up to the horizon. Every soft curve is etched with more detail than I ever thought possible.
Rowan carries me, walking at a brisk pace I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with without shoes, towards a collection of trailers kept in neat rows.
“I’m taking you back to my place,” he murmurs softly.
“Okay,” I say.
“Is that all you know how to say?” He huffs, lowering me down to my feet at the steps of what I assume to be his trailer.
I blink up at him in confusion as he opens the door, ushering me inside.
“What else would you want me to say?” The words come out slow and cautious.
His sharp gaze cuts through me, and my gaze instantly dropsto the floor.
I study the surrounding trailer. It’s small, but clean. The only clutter is on the small dining room table, where papers are scattered about. To my right is the small kitchenette, and to my left, past the small living room, is what looks to be the bedroom and bathroom.
“I don’t know,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You—you’re just not reacting the way I expect, considering you were bought and sold and brought in here in a fuckingcage.”
The quiet snarl that leaves him is enough to make me flinch back, my spine bumping up against the front door.
He goes still at the movement before he whirls away from me, shoulders trembling as he drags in uneven breaths.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The curse is hissed out between his teeth as his hands rake through his messy dark brown locks.
My heart squeezes, and I take a hesitant step towards him, reaching out and resting my hand on his shoulder.
“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. If you—if you tell me the rules, I promise I’ll be good. I don’t want to upset anyone. Especially not you. Because you saved me.”
His muscles bunch under my touch before he whirls around, eyes wide, chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.
“Why do you talk like that?” The words come out in a growl as his hand grips my wrist. It’s not a rough or painful grip, but it still makes me freeze in place.
