Chapter Sixteen: Rollercoaster

"That was awesome! When are we doing it again?”

“Weren’t you the one who was worried about consequences?” Adriel poked me, at a particular spot on my arm that had a blooming bruise on it. When I fell from the window, I had crashed shoulder-first onto the rusting metal platform that was just beneath. The drop was short but it hurt nonetheless. Fortunately for me and everyone involved, my adrenaline had already been pumping and that tumble had given me the slightest of pushes to actually get the hormone to work. Planting the chip after was easy peasy, lemon squeazy. Getting out of the warehouse was . . . whatever the opposite of easy peasy, lemon squeazy was. Going in and coming out the same way only left your body bruise free if the entrance and exit were doors.

“That was not me,” I deadpanned, looking Adriel square in the eye. “That was another me.”

“Alter ego?”

“Are we talking flip personalities?” Kieran asked, coming up behind us both, swinging his arms onto each of our shoulders. "My zodiac reading today was good."

"You read that stuff?" I pulled a face.

"Sometimes acts in a certain way just to fit in with the day's reading, too," Adriel piped up. If Kieran was embarrassed about this, he was hiding it well. Either that or he genuinely owned what he was doing.

“You're weird. All you're doing is falling for the Forer Effect."

"It's the one where people believe generalized descriptions apply specifically to them, right?" Adriel offered. I snapped my fingers and did finger guns at him for getting it right. None of the people I knew were aware of this so a kindred spirit in the matter was highly comforting. "I keep telling him that."

"And I keep telling you that whatever I read is real. How would you know if you don't read it too?" Oh, he was bent on his view. "There are 12 zodiacs and each one is unique with a different reading each week. The probability of it being fake is low."

"You've never read one that's similar to another? Perhaps with different phrasing?" I pressed, refusing to let him win this argument when clearly, I had proof backed by science.

"Never," he answered with a confidence I knew I couldn't shake.

"Okay. Can I have a piggyback ride?"

Mr. Zodiac grinned, gesturing for me to hop on as he thoughtfully bent his knees. I secured my arms around his neck, felt him tuck me snugly against his back by hooking his hands under my legs. He didn't falter when he walked, carrying the burden of a human that was me with ease, as if I weighed nothing. The stability he unconsciously provided comforted me and I leaned my head on his, just to soak up more of that feeling.

“You could have asked me, you know,” Adriel said pointedly as he kept up with us. It was quite a walk from the car to the front door of their house. I was glad I now knew what the house looked like from the outside.

Set about two kilometers from the main road, the house resembled a manor-ish barn. It sat in a field, smack in the middle. No neighbours to holler good morning to, no way of calling for help unless we used phones. Completely set apart from the outside world. There was a narrow worn-out path to turn in from the main road, a road no one in their right mind would turn down unless they knew where they were going. A couple of serpentine turns and it was a straight road until the house came in sight. But the guys never drove their cars right up to the house. They had their own little shack set apart from the house – “Took me a week and cost me my fingers but she’s a beauty!” – built by Kieran, with little to no help at all from the other two. Hence, the walk from the cars to the house.

"Why do you want to carry this sack of flour?" Kieran asked, turning his head to look at his friend. I didn't bother with a reply, having grown accustomed to his jabs, though I was curious about the answer to his question.

"B - Because . . . Because I want to," he spluttered. Didn't need any light to know that his face was red. His tone was awfully conspicuous. I nudged Kieran's side with my knee, doing a stage whisper on purpose.

"I think he's jealous."

"I think so too," Kieran whispered back, just as loudly.

"Shut up," Adriel muttered, now facing the ground instead of us.

My two body guards and I made it back to the house, walking in to find Tommy resting on the sofa with his head leaned back and his eyes closed. He had on a new shirt and a jumper, looking like he’d just returned from a little trip himself.

“You’re not well enough to be up and about, mate,” Adriel gently chided his leader. Tommy’s eyes blinked open slowly. He straightened up just as Kieran set me down. Instinctively, I hid behind him, away from Tommy’s heavy gaze.

“It’s time we moved on,” Tommy said in that calm way of his. In front of me, Kieran tensed up noticeably.

“What do you mean?” Adriel queried warily, stepping closer to the sofa. Kieran inched forward too, with me clinging to his shirt helplessly.

“It's confirmed she’s not a missing person,” Tommy explained curtly, eyes flitting to me and back to his companions. “She dropped out and moved away. Now, only Danny knows she's alive.”

I – What?

“What?” I echoed my initial thought, daring to step out from behind my human shield. Those condescending eyes drank in the sight of me, and not in the sexy way; in an I-literally-want-to-kill-you kind of way. Trying not to groan as he got up, Tommy shuffled into the kitchen, no doubt heading for the secret bunker.

“Stay, princess,” he growled, not even looking back to know I was about to follow. Kieran and Adriel gave me sympathetic smiles before hurrying after their friend. I stayed rooted to my spot, a frown knitting my brows together and tugging the corners of my lips downwards. Tommy’s words were on rewind in my mind. They made sense even if I couldn't fully grasp the entirety of it.

I moved towards the front door, certain that there were motion sensors hidden somewhere to prevent my leaving but too overwhelmed to care. I needed to leave. Never mind that Adriel was a complete sweetheart; never mind the rapport I'd managed to establish with Kieran; never mind that I thought Tommy was undeniably one of the hottest guys I’d seen even when wounded. The idea of sticking around to see my own blood spilled did not appeal to me at all.

A rushed prayer fell from my lips, then several apologies stringed with curses when I remembered my puppy. It was too late to retrieve him now that I was already outside. Already, I could feel the ground threatening to slow me down by planting doubts in my head.

They’ll find you. You know that.

Shut up.

Dust and gravel were stirred into the air as I broke into a run. Barely past the shack that sheltered the guys’ two SUVs and a sedan, my legs were already screaming bloody murder at me for compelling them to move in such a way that went against my usual routine: walking. More dust was kicked up when I dug my heels into the ground to push myself forward.

Right. The junction was just up ahead. Above me, heavy clouds glided effortlessly across the night sky, obscuring the moon. Pale white light no longer illuminated my path. I made the mistake of looking up and tripped, my palms getting the brunt of the fall as they scraped against the ground with enough friction to generate a fire.

“Darn it,” I muttered, spitting dirt from my mouth then pushing myself up. I was tempted to look back but the paralyzing fear that followed prevented me from doing so. How did the night turn out so wrongly like this?

Remember kids: even a tiny peek back could cost you your life.

My lungs threatened to collapse and leave me gasping like a fish out of water if I didn’t give them a break. Unfair, considering that I was doing my best to give them the oxygen they so deserved. The state of my physical fitness appalled me.

Okay, good. You’re almost at the main road now.

I would have kept pumping my arms as a way to support my over-worked leg muscles. Trust me, I would have. . . if a stich hadn't chosen that time to form in my side, stabbing me in the ribs. Each breath I drew in only intensified the pain. I slowed down to a jog and dived impulsively behind the first bush I saw. Breathing like a mother in labour seemed the only way I could catch the breath I needed to move on.

Just as I had gotten my breathing under control, fate intervened. A big hand clamped itself around my mouth, an arm sliding around me, pulling me out of my hiding spot. Branches and thorns left shallow, stinging cuts on my skin, courtesy of their loving caresses while I got dragged past them.

“Did you think you could escape, princess?” his voice rumbled in his chest which was pressed to my back. I froze. Of course he had to be the one who found me. How convenient.

“The guys may treat you as a guest,” he continued in a low voice, arm tightening around me. “But you’re my victim. Mine. And you’re not leaving until I’m done with you.”

If I wasn’t terrified for my life, I would’ve turned to jelly right then and there because he took ‘possessive’ to a whole new level. And that body of his . . . man, God’s been generous to this guy. Sadly, the butterfly sensation he stirred up in me was swamped by another completely different feeling. Time to make my last request.

“Can I have a Viking’s funeral when you kill me?” I said into his hand, once more using brazen bluntness to cope with my fear.

Tommy sighed, exasperated. “Back to the house. Tying you up again.” The thought of being confined to that room yet again nauseated me so much that I rammed my elbow into his stomach and broke free. The first few nights I spent there, I was plagued by nightmares, haunted by what was to come next, fearing everything when I was awake. No way on earth I was going back there.

Cackling maniacally, I ran deeper into the field, away from the road. Tommy – he probably had hidden wings – caught me once more. This time, his grip around me was more secure as he lifted me off the ground with one arm and trudged back towards the house.

“I don’t wanna go back!” I screamed, thrashing in his grip. “Let me go! This is against my rights! Let me go!”

I didn’t know how he did it with that hole in his shoulder. Tommy managed to carry me all the way back to the house, simultaneously tolerating my shrieks and kicks and punches. The other two were nowhere to be seen.

“Give me any more trouble and you’re never leaving this room,” he said darkly, tightening the knots that once again bound me to the darned bed in the darned room in this darned house. Tommy leaned towards me and I caught that same whiff of him the very first time we met. He smelt like the night this time round: cool, damp, fresh with a tinge of something sweet. His lips tickled my ear, hot breath sending chills over my flushed skin, irritating me.

“Understand, princess?” he said, softly, tenderly. Like a mother whispering to her baby for fear she might lose him. Like a lover assuring his partner of the happiness he could give her. Like the gangster with the mental problem trying reverse psychology with his victim. Oh, he was daring me to defy him.

“Quit calling me princess,” I tried to sneer but it came out all wrong. Tommy pulled back, a small smile on his lips. For a dumb moment, I actually thought he was going to kiss me.

I hated him.