When we emerge into the basement, the four men are leaning against the walls, straightening to attention as soon as we appear. All are masked like I thought, but I’m surprised at how casual they are in jeans and t-shirts, though I’m not sure what I really expected. It isn’t like they’re some task force sent to retrieve me; these are people that are willing to work alongside my heartless mother, are in it for either the money, or a chance to buy me.
Eyes rake over me instantly, assessing. I scan each face, making quick mental notes of the two who look unimpressed, like I’m just a cash cow that’s caused far too much stress for what they deem me worth, or completely disinterested. Another stares hungrily that I think might consider making a play at betrayal if it suits him, and I memorize his face; I might be able to get away, but I’d likely end up in another Zane situation, so a last resort. It’s the man with buzzed, chestnut hair, and eyes only a shade darker that I latch on to, deciding he’s my ticket out of here.
There’s still hope in that one’s eyes that life hasn’t crushed yet, and I know without hearing him utter a word that he’s the one that brought up the dowry thing.
“I’m not paying you to stand around,” my mother snaps, annoyed and gesturing for them to get moving up the rickety stairs.
“You’re barely paying us at all,” one scoffs, walking away without a backward glance.
My mother purses her lips. “And you’ll be well compensated within the week.”
We enter the living room of an abandoned farm house, covered in dust and cobwebs. The more annoyed of the two are already walking outside, leaving the three of us to catch up while they either scan the surrounding area, or leave us in their dust now that they’ve found their mission disappointing. I rub my palm over my bandaged arm, pressing a bit too hard and making a few more drops of blood stain the white gauze. Both men’s eyes flit down to the injury, though they don’t react.
I almost ask where we are so that I can gauge how long of a drive we have ahead of us, but I nix that idea before I even open my mouth, realizing it’ll put her on the defensive. Instead, as we walk down the dilapidated porch steps, I glance around with confusion when I don’t see a car.
“Are we walking home?”
One of the men up ahead scoffs with derision. “Like we’d drive right up to a shifter’s home and expect them not to notice. Car’s about a mile off; youcanstill walk, can’t you? Or are you nothing more than a pampered, glorified juice box?”
“Xander!” the kinder man beside me snaps. “Fuck’s wrong with you, man?”
“It’s fine,” I murmur, dropping my gaze to the ground in front of me. Though at the same time, I gravitate ever so slightly closer towards him.
“It’s not fine,” he growls in annoyance before addressing his friend. “What part of finding her locked underground with that lunatic makes it seem like she’s pampered, huh? And if she was; what’s wrong with that? People aresupposedto pamper their mates. It’s fucked up if you’d prefer he was down there beating her until we showed up.”
Xander turns, mouth twisted in a scowl. “She’s too weak, Caleb; look at her. A boost isn’t worth it in the long run. She’d just be providing the energy necessary to take care of her, so we wouldn’t actually benefit from the trouble. We’ll drop them off, get our money, and keep looking for a better fit.”
It’s so lovely that I’m not even a person standingright fucking here, otherwise that might hurt my feelings.
It’s hard not to lob the words at him, to bite my tongue. But I don’t need to defend myself, especially to him. I just need to buy myself an opening.
The house now behind us, we walk across a massive stretch of open field. To our right is the farmland, nothing more than dirt from years of neglect, and to the left, a forest. Straight ahead, a small hill blocks my view, but I assume on the other side in the distance is the road they left their car.
“Keep being an asshole, X, and we’re never going to find a mate,” the man to my left declares, picking at one of his nails.
Tentatively, I ask, “So, you’re a pack, then? Of what?”
My mother grips the back of my shirt, forcing herself between me and the stranger to my left. “It doesn’t matter. You heard them; they aren’t interested. Useless questions will only serve to piss everyone off, and it’s a long drive home.”
We walk on for several minutes before the man beside Xander softly declares, “Wolves.”
Of course they’re wolves. The universe thinks itself so fucking funny.
“That’s... nice.”
Two snorts up ahead are the only response I get, all of us walking in tense silence as we start up the incline, climbing the hill. My shoe catches on a divot in the ground and I stumble, catching myself and scraping my palms before righting myself. Passing it off as brushing the dirt off my hands, wiping them on my clothes, I tuck the jagged rock into the pocket of my shorts.
“Seriously?” My mother snaps out a hand and latches on to my bandaged arm only after I’ve already saved myself. Her fingers curl right above the puncture marks and I hiss in a sharp, pained breath, gently trying to pull back, but her nails dig in deeper. “You’re already the center of attention, you don’t need to be dramatic.”
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper softly, but it echoes around the otherwise quiet night air.
“Enough, already!” she snaps, dragging me forward with her. “I left those kids alone because you agreed to stop being so damn difficult. So stop dragging your feet and hurry the hell up, already. You forget, Risa, that you don’t have anything to bargain with. You’re coming home whether you like it or not, and I’m getting pretty sick of humoring you for no good reason when you continue to be difficult.”
We nearly crash into Xander and the other’s backs, neither of them moving since my fall. And it might be my imagination, but I’m pretty sure the brief glance at my mother’s nails digging into my arm that has more hostility rising to his naturally pissed off expression, isn’t from me being a burden.
“Everly,” he coolly states, as if disinterested. “It seems the only thing holding us up is your monologuing. If this keeps us, we’re going to have to switch to an hourly rate instead of by the job.”
Lips pressed into a thin line, she jerks me forward with her, refusing to let go out of spite. “Then perhaps you should start walking.”
