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But someone interrupted.
“Are you taking Aribella away?” In her timid voice, the girl inside the end cage asked, not with distress but with hope.
“That is not her name.” My voice was heavy, the tone graveled and rough.
“You know me?” Cat still sounded like Cat. And she was all I could focus on when she talked.
“Do not talk to him. You’ll get in trouble again, and we’ll all be punished. Look at what you did last time.” The girl at her side moved her eyes to the child, blaming Cat for the little girl’s death.
“That is not her fault. Now, shut your fucking mouth unless you want me to leave you behind when I get her out of here.”
“It’s not so bad here when she doesn’t cause trouble.”
I ignored the brainwashed idiot.
My fingers weaved through the cage, the tips barely reaching Cat’s cheek. She didn’t pull away, letting me soothe the pain of her bruises. My cock hardened over one touch, and if I were a better person, maybe I’d feel guiltier about it.
“I know you, my girl.”
But she didn’t know me. Somehow.
“You don’t remember me?”
She shook her head, and it gutted me.
“Where are the keys?” My other hand left hers and pulled at the heavy padlock, locking her in.
I stupidly interrupted before she could tell me. “I missed you so much.” I had no idea how those words crawled out or what her reply would have been.
Her perfect lips parted to reply as a thundering noise came down the stairs, each step moaning and groaning over the weight of the heavy boots pounding them.
The three amigos dropped their hands.
“I’ll be back,” I mouthed a quick promise, bringing my finger to my lips with the silent instruction for everyone to keep their mouths shut.
As quietly as possible, I turned the handle on a nearby door and tucked myself into a jam-packed storage closet.
I battled with a giant spider for the right to stand next to the Hoover, and I won by flicking it into the darkness.
I left the door partly ajar because I wanted to see and because this fucker running through the house didn’t give me the time to close it without being heard.
“Are we ready, my little whores? It’s time for the culling. There’s a new arrival coming this weekend, and she’s a dream. Which means we need less of you. Three are already dead. The dogs,” Plaid Shirt listened for a moment. “Quiet! Quiet!” he screamed to the dogs outside, still aggravated by my presence. He didn’t care that they couldn’t hear him when he banged on the window, looking like he was fucking insane. He turned with a serene smile on his ugly face.
He stepped under the light, and his black hair shined. “The dogs need feeding and will be hunting you down, as will I. If any of you are lucky enough to make it back to the house after I call them in, you can live. But we only have a need for so many of you. Protect your place by eliminating the competition.” His dark eyes flicked to Cat. “And don’t be stupid like Penelope, thinking you can run. Joseph will be waiting with his gun at the driveway for any of you thinking you can get away, and you’ll be in a ditch like she is. Rotting.”
I guessed whoever Joseph was, he was a liar. And I guessed the girl sleeping at my place, in the spare room, was called Penelope.
He pulled keys from the middle of five drawers.
“Select your weapons.” Plaid Shirt unlocked the first cage, freeing the timid girl first before making his way down the line.
The three girls, Miss Timid, Miss Silent, and Miss Mouth—the one with so many opinions on my girl’s behavior—all selected a weapon.
Miss Mouth looked to the bigger weapons, proving that she didn’t believe the bullshit she’d tried to feed me. Not really.
Plaid Shirt froze, his key in Cat’s lock, his eyes on Miss Mouth.
“Don’t give me a reason to eliminate you early, Darla. You’re the favorite, remember?”
