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Drake chuckled, and I enjoyed the sound. There was almost never a time when laughter was heard in the mansion. At the door of my room, Drake offered to help me in the way Liam had the day before, but we both received a buzz for even suggesting it.
"Well," Drake said. "See you at dinner, I guess."
The rest of the day was irritating. Sam sent me to make dinner by myself. He’d put a hard wooden stool in the kitchen for me to sit on while I worked. My ass hurt worse than my ankle by the time I finished. I couldn’t help but think he was testing me, seeing how hurt I really was.
At the final meal of the day Drake and I were shocked any time we even attempted to speak to each other. It was obvious enough that the others even noticed.
Bri pointed at us with her fork. "You two piss off the big man somehow or something?" She glanced at me and smirked. "What? Did you suck Drake’s cock when he helped you back to your room?" She began to pantomime stroking a dick. "Oh yeah, big throbbing cock. Give it to me daddy. Come on my face. Make me a good little whore."
Drake slammed his fist on the table. The sound, like a gunshot, surprised everyone, including Bri who dropped her fork and flinched.
"Enough, Bri. I understand you are upset about Liam, but there is no reason to take it out on Dahlia. She did nothing wrong," Drake said through gritted teeth.
The way he stood up for me sent a shiver of pleasure up my spin. There’d been so few people do that in my life. It made me want to actually do what Bri had joked about.
Bri pouted and picked her fork up again. "Right. Yeah."
She was silent the rest of the night. I could tell she still wanted to push things, but was afraid of stirring the pot too much. She settled for staring daggers at Payton as he ate. Thankfully the other man was oblivious as he finished his dinner. Bri looked like she was ready to explode. She wanted to hurt someone. Wanted to rip them apart and get out her sorrow over Liam dying.
The next morning Bri got her chance. She was the next one sent out to hunt. When she returned from the weapons room, she had two knives, one was the same weapon I’d chosen, the knife with built in brass knuckles, the other was the machete Liam had taken. We were still eating breakfast when she came back down, the knife tucked into her waist band. She walked over and grabbed a breakfast burrito and headed for the door, taking a huge bite as she went.
"I’ll be back," she grunted through a mouthful of food.
"Holy shit, she’s gonna slaughter someone," Elise said, watching Bri stride out the front door.
"I think that’s the idea," Payton mumbled as he took a sip of coffee. "I’m glad she’s out there, though. Away from us. I’m worried she’s going to rip my throat out."
"She’d be right to," Elise said, glaring across the table at him.
Payton’s shoulders sagged and he put his cup down. "I said I was sorry. I didn’t think it would be that bad. Plus, Sam ordered me to—"
Bong. "Breakfast is over. Please return to your rooms. There will be no afternoon activities."
"Shit. Okay then," Elise said and pushed away from the table.
Drake caught my eye with his, and I could see from his expression he was confused. All I could do was hope we weren’t being locked up without food again. I even grabbed an orange from the table and slipped it into my pocket. A little snack to take the edge off if that was the case. If Sam was upset about my little sleight of hand he didn’t shock me for it.
We did miss lunch. I ate the orange in segments, chewing each one completely, swallowing and then waiting one full minute to eat the next. Doing it that way made the meal last over ten minutes. It also kept my mind occupied for a bit instead of wondering why we were being locked away. Something wasn’t making sense. Ever since our escape attempt, things had changed. Sam was more easily triggered now. He was more prone to infantile punishment too. I didn’t want to be cut or burned, but that would have made more sense than the childish punishments like locking us in our rooms. I had the sneaking feeling our escape had changed something. Yes, we couldn’t actually escape, but that didn’t mean that the act hadn’t shaken his confidence in some way.
When the door unlocked and Sam instructed me to go to dinner, a tiny moan of relief escaped my lips. The orange had kept the hunger at bay, but I’d already chastised myself for eating it too soon. The others exited and each looked like they’d had the same worries I’d been brooding over the last several hours. When we got to the dining room, we were greeted with the simplest dinner I’d seen here. Pizza. Not homemade either. They’d obviously been frozen. They were still served on silver trays though, along with a tray of packaged gas station snack brownies.
Elise raised an eyebrow. "Looks like a twelve year old boy planned dinner tonight."
Payton took a slice of pizza onto his plate. "What do you expect? None of us were available to cook."
"Right, but none of us cook breakfast either. This is weird," I said, though I wasn’t too proud to turn my nose up. I grabbed three pieces for myself and a brownie.
Elise took a bite and glanced up at the cameras. She was thinking, I could read it on her face. After she swallowed, she looked at the rest of us. "What if it’s a team? More than only Sam. Right? There’s no way he can do all this by himself. What if some of the team is having to do stuff out there while we hunt? He’s short staffed and had to mosey his ass down here and throw some shit in the oven himself?"
That was the same idea I’d had not long ago. It made sense that he had help, but there couldn’t be a lot of it. How many psychos could you find that would be okay helping run something as awful as this place?
Before any of us could dive deeper into that line of thought, the front door opened. Bri walked in smeared with blood. The machete blade was snapped in half, but she still held it clasped in her hand. The knife was in her other fist. She looked like hell. Blood had dried in her hair and on her face along with the smears on her clothes. Her face didn’t look upset. In fact, she looked giddy, almost like she’d been liberated or gotten what she’d asked for for Christmas.
She tossed the blades on the floor and took her usual seat. If she thought the dinner spread was strange, she didn’t say anything about it. She took a few slices of pizza and took a heavy swig from a glass.
"How did it go?" Elise asked.
"Great. Found the fucker. Tracked his ass down after I ran toward the perimeter."
