Page 16 of Captive of Outlaws

Will brakes a bit dramatically in front of the steps up to the porch, and I sink back into the leather behind me.

“Here we are,” Will says.

“Home sweet home,” LJ adds and climbs out of the passenger seat.

“You live here?” I all but gasp.

“That we do, little greasemonkey,” Will says, grinning at me. “And you’ve had the misfortune to trespass on our boss’s land.”

Chapter Five

THE FRONT HALLWAY TAKESmy breath away. Hardwood floors, carved paneling, and furniture that’s heavy and antique-looking—definitely not flat-pack-and-assemble from IKEA. A massive staircase curves away from the door, and there’s a literal chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling. The decor is impressive, too: an Oriental rug that feels plush even under my boots and framed portraits and paintings that I can see the actual brushstrokes on.

But Will and LJ stride in as casually as walking into a Kwik-Stop at the gas station. Will tosses his keys toward a basket on the right, while LJ hollers out “Tuck? You here?”

“Gimme a second!” calls someone from deep inside the house. I barely want to take another step, afraid I’ll break something, or smudge it with motor oil, and be on the hook to replace some priceless tapestry that’s four hundred years old. To the left is a kind of sitting room, surprisingly modern in its decor, with sleek black couches and abstract art, and to the right is what I can only call a library: deep wood paneling,shelves crammed with leather-bound books, armchairs for lounging in, even a chess set.

I hold my elbow self-consciously, suddenly feeling every inch of grime and sweat on my skin. Even though I’m probably in literal fucking danger right now, I can’t help but feel...broke. Broke and desperate and slack-jawed, like a hillbilly seeing electric lights for the first time.

“I know, right? It’s a lot.”

The voice is mellow and warm, but I whirl around, startled. Another guy, this one clad in sweats and a T-shirt, offers me a smile.

“Uh...” I don’t know how to answer. I swallow hard. “Yeah.”

I size him up as quick as I can, seeking out any signs of immediate threat and finding...surprisingly none. He’s as tall as the others, a bit slimmer, but clearly still in shape, with the burgundy fabric of his tee stretched appealingly tight over his shoulders. His hair falls in honey-brown waves that tousle absentmindedly over his ears, like some kind of permanent bed-head, and a round pair of glasses slips just a bit towards the end of his freckled nose.

“I felt like such a yokel the first time I set foot in here,” he goes on. “Admittedly, I was only a kid, so everything seemed that much bigger, but still. Nothing like seeing real old money up close, eh?” He grins and sticks out a hand. “I’m Tuck. Nice to meet you.”

I’m so stunned by his friendliness that I actually shake his hand. His palm is warm and firm against mine, and I catch a whiff of sandalwood as I draw those few inches closer to him—his aftershave or deodorant.

“Maren,” I say. “You...live here too?”

Tuck nods. “Yep. Pretty sweet, isn’t it? Our own little forest hideaway.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “You hungry?”

Maybe it’s that this guy—Tuck—is so disarming, so unlike Will with his biting wit and LJ with his gruff demeanor, that my barriers crumble.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that I am fuckingstarving.

“Never been hungrier,” I confess.

Tuck beams and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Great. Brunch is served.”

THAT WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.

Tuck leads me to a massive, light-filled kitchen full of gleaming appliances, floor-to-ceiling windows, and more breakfast food than I’ve ever seen in one place. On the granite countertop of the center island are piles of bacon, a fluffy mountain of scrambled eggs, glistening bowls of fruit salad, and a stack of waffles that nearly reaches eye level.

A few paces away, at a broad wooden table, the other two guys have already dug in.

“Nice work, Four Eyes.” LJ lifts his fork.

“Yeah, you’ve outdone yourself.” Will nods and toasts with a cup of coffee. “Although I still think those glasses are just for show. Playing up the whole hot nerd thing for the girls.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very slightly nearsighted,” Tuck says, but not before he glances at me, and I notice a light pink tinge on his cheeks.

“Oh yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?” LJ flips him the bird. Will snort-laughs into his coffee, and Tuck ducks over to give LJ a shove in the shoulder—one thatsurprisingly almost topples him from the chair.Guess LJ isn’t the only one packing serious strength.

“Don’t mind them,” Will drawls, sipping his coffee. “They’ve always been childish.”

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