"What is it?" I asked.
"That sounds like one of the men from the auction." Leif pulled out his gun. He looked ready to use it, shoulders firm, arm loose, like Woody taught me.
My blood froze. Why were they here? Why would Forrest talk to them like they were old friends? Both Leif and Savannah told me about the masked men, the ones she thought would have freed her, given half a chance. Were these the same men? Anything else made even less sense.
"He said he had someone on the inside," Leif said. "I guess he did."
I got the impression he didn't know the extent of the people Forrest was working with. I certainly didn't.
"Can we trust them?" I whispered. Could we trust Forrest if he was working with them? Just because Savannah thought they'd let her go didn't mean they actually would have. She was scared. It was easy to get the wrong impression when your mind was racing. I didn't want to doubt Forrest, course not, but right now? I wasn't sure what to think.
"Stay here," Leif said. He pushed me behind him, but didn't step over the threshold. He cocked his head and listened.
"You might as well come inside," Forrest said.
Footsteps sounded before he closed and locked the door behind them.
"Who the fuck are they?" Woody said, his voice sounding from the other end of the house. As usual, he was pulling no punches.
"Good question," Leif whispered. "Who the fuck are they, Forrest?"
"These are my brothers," Forrest said. "Why don't we all go into the kitchen?"
"You have brothers?" Woody sounded surprised. "You never told me you had brothers."
Leif and I stepped away from the doorway in a hurry, right before everyone started to file in. Both of us doing our best to look like we weren't lurking, listening suspiciously.
I suspected neither of us pulled it off. Judging by the smirk on one of the brothers' faces, they hadn't missed a thing.
"This is Urban and Noah." Forrest gestured to them in turn.
Urban looked like a younger version of Forrest, if more cynical. Noah was a couple of years younger again, with a similar build to Urban, but a face covered in freckles and a wide smile.
"Who's this?" Noah asked, cocking his head at me.
"My girlfriend," Forrest snapped. "You might have met her friend at the auction, Savannah."
"The one you bought," Urban leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, looking unimpressed.
"So we could get her out of there," Forrest said. "What about the rest of them?"
Noah straightened up, his expression more serious. "Most of them are accounted for. We're still trying to find a couple of them."
"Put your hand up if you're confused as fuck," Leif said, putting his gun away and raising his hand.
Slowly, I put mine halfway up as well.
"Confused as fuck sounds accurate," Woody agreed. "Who are these clowns? Who's being accounted for? Someone want to fill in the gaps here?"
"I see you have lunch ready. Perfect timing." Noah appraised the pile of sandwiches, his grin back in place.
"There should be enough for all of us," I said, giving Forrest the side-eye. Was he inviting them to stay for lunch, or were they inviting themselves? Not to mention, why hadn't he mentioned they were coming? He seemed to have been expecting them.
"Let's all sit," Forrest said, pulling a white painted chair out from the table. Like the others, it had a frilly blue and white chair pad covering the seat.
"How about you explain first?" Woody said.
"Come now," Noah said, patting Woody's shoulder. "Is that any way to be hospitable?"
