My pulse stuttered.
“What exactly are we supposed to be using to get out of here?” I asked.
Silence answered me, so I turned back to face them.
Two and Eight stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking the door.
Their expressions had changed.
There was no fear in their faces, now. No, there was just blatant hunger, and something darker.
“Guys…?” My voice cracked. “What are you doing?”
Two advanced first, his smile slow and wrong.
“You didn’t actually think we were doing this out of the goodness of our hearts, did you?”
Eight laughed, the sound soft and mean.
“Ben Stonewood gets everything he wants. Always. Money. Power. Women. But he can’t have everything all to himself. Not this time.”
Ice flooded my veins.
“Stay away from me,” I warned, backing toward the workbench.
They stalked forward in unison.
Two’s eyes dragged over me with an entitlement that made my skin crawl.
“We’ve been watching you since the first night. You didn’t belong to him, then, and you don’t now. We heard you screaming how you were his whore, but why let him be greedy? If you’re really such a good little whore, you won’t be satisfied with one man for the rest of your life, now will you?”
“Stop—”
“The way you looked at Ben when he was parading around as Jacob…” Eight sneered. “The way you’d do anything for that scarred fuck when you thought he was some sweet, lovesick groundskeeper? Fucking sickening.”
“Disgusting,” Two echoed. “Some rich bastard thinks he can play dress-up and own people. Well… he doesn’t own everything.”
I bumped into the workbench.
Panicked breath tore out of my lungs.
“Ben will?—”
“Ben won’t do shit,” Eight snapped. “He doesn’t even know you’re gone. And even if he did—” He grinned, teeth bared. “—we can handle him.”
Fuck. I’d let the wolves lead me out of the lodge, and now I was fucking trapped with them.
Panic flooded me and my mind told me one thing.
Run.
But there was nowhere to run.
Two lunged first.
I grabbed the closest thing I could, a rusty wrench, and swung it hard. It connected with his arm. He cursed, stumbling back.
Eight grabbed my wrist. I jerked away, heart pounding so loud I thought I might black out. My boots slid across the concrete, searching for traction.
