Page 23 of Captive of Outlaws

“I...” I feel stupid, watching him retreat down a hallway. Footsteps pound on a distant flight of stairs, and a far-off door slams. Still, I feel my shoulders loosen, just a smidge. Somehow, in all of this, I’d forgotten about the only important thing I own. “He’s...going back for the Mustang?” I say hesitantly.

“Apparently so,” Will says. “Can’t say it’s a bad call. Be a damn shame to leave a specimen like that rusting out in the woods.”

“She drives a Mustang?” Tuck says, admiration in his voice.

“You should see it,” Will says, grudgingly. “Beautiful condition. She’s got the magic touch, it seems.”

“It’s not inperfectcondition. Got a taillight out.” My cheeks flame. “And it’s not magic. Just hard work.”

Will throws Tuck a look. “Same difference, if you ask me.”

“Sorry about LJ,” Tuck puts in. “He’s...not a morning person.”

“So dramatic.” Will rubs his temples. “You’d think we were asking him to share his apartment with her or something.”

“Not sure he’d mind that,” Tuck says, a bit bashfully, looking at his fingernails.

“Not what I meant,” Will says. “But in that sense, no, none of us should get our hopes up. Maren’s made that quite clear.”

“I just made it clear,” I interrupt, “that I know no one gets anything for free, and if there’s going to be quid pro quo, then I want to be in charge of the...quid,” I finish lamely.

“She thinks we’re trying to sex traffic her,” Will butts in.Tuck goes red.

“What?” He shakes his head. “Maren, oh my God, we—”

“That’s not what I said,” I protest, glaring at Will before throwing an apologetic look at Tuck. “I just meant...well, you guys are all filthy rich, you live in a hideout in the woods, and you’re...” I hesitate whether I want to go this far. “...up to something.” I lift a shoulder. “You could see why I might be suspicious.”

Will snorts. “Yes,” he says. “I’d say you have an awful lot to learn about us, then.”

“Don’t worry,” Tuck says. “I’m sure you’ll settle into things here eventually. There’s no rush.”

“Speaking of settling in.” Will slips his phone from his pocket and thumbs away something on the screen. “I’ve got some...business to attend to. Can you find her a room, Tuck?”

“Sure,” Tuck says. “I’ll give you the whole tour.”

Will rolls his eyes. “I’d pass on that, if I were you. He’ll bore you to death before you reach the second floor.”

“A tour?” I throw Tuck an accommodating smile, which makes his face light up. It’s quite charming, actually. He’s like a cute, nerdy college boy—golden retriever energy, charmingly oblivious to how sexy he is, even in glasses and sweats. “I’d like that.”

“Fine. Your funeral.” Will gestures at Tuck. “Try not bombard her with fun facts. She’s been through enough.”

“AND THIS IS WHERE MOSTof the bedrooms are.” Tuck gestures at a sweeping, grand hallway to the left of the main staircase on the second floor.

“Most?” I ask.

Tuck shrugs. “LJ’s got his own separate digs. But the rest of us are up here.”

We’ve already walked through the kitchen, the dining room, the sitting room, thelivingroom (they’re different things), the library, the game room, the wine cellar, past the poolandhot tub, and done a quick glance at the gardens and the garage. Every room brought something new: more plush furniture, more priceless artwork, more expensive rich-boy toys from classy bottles of liquor to massage chairs to a full outdoor fire pit and brick oven. My feet are actually starting to ache from walking so much.

I badly stifle a yawn, but Tuck notices and smiles.

I smile back, a bit guiltily. “Finally.”

“Tired?” Tuck says, starting down the hallway.

“A little,” I admit, then shake my head. “No. A lot. My bed was the backseat of a Mustang last night.”

“Right.” He snaps his fingers. “LJ’s getting it. Sounds like a sweet ride. You must drive it everywhere.”