Page 53 of Captive of Outlaws

The voices fade in and out like a bad radio signal.

“This is why I didn’t want her leaving here.” That’s Rob’s voice, I’m fairly certain. “We can’t control what goes on beyond the bounds of this property, outside of the forest.”

“Yeah, well, you try and stop her from getting those damn auto parts,” gripes another voice. Will’s, I think. “She insisted, said she had to talk to the guy herself or he wouldn’t sell.”

“Come on. You can’t think creatively here? There’s no one in Sherwood County who couldn’t use our help, especially not a guy who owns a mom-and-pop car parts store.”

“You’re the one who does the wheeling and dealing, Rob,” puts in a third voice—Tuck. “We weren’t about to broker a deal on your behalf without permission.”

“That’s not the point. The point is, not only did you put her in danger, but you drew a huge amount of attention to her. That’s another sighting that the sheriff can pin down.” Rob’s voice is rising, almost to the point of yelling. “Do you know what that means for her? Any of you?”

“Oh, so I was just supposed to let those good-for-nothing rednecks grope her like animals?” This voice is low, angry. “Fuck that and fuck you.”

I blink. Context clues, plus the angry, gravelly tone, tell me that that’s LJ. He doesn’t know I’m listening, thinks I’m still passed out. And it sounds like...he genuinely wanted to defend me.

A flutter of something stirs in my chest. Hope, maybe.

But I tamp it down. Ofcoursehe doesn’t want anything to happen to me. I’m a meal ticket. A dangling carrot in a trap too complicated for me to understand. I get hurt, the jig is up. Game over. No payday.

The throbbing in my head is down to a dull pulse. Slowly, unsteadily, I get up, but my shoes are gone and my socks are slick against the polished tile, and I slide and lose my balance right back into the couch with an unfortunately loud thud.

“That’s her. She’s awake.”

Footsteps pick up in the room, and I’m determined not to let them come and pull me off a literal fainting couch. I manage to get up a second time and push myself through the doorway into the game room before they can show up. Four pairs of eyes scan over me, looking for any injuries, any hurts, their brows furrowed with anger as much as concern.

“I’m fine,” I say, not that anyone had asked.

“You should be resting, Maren,” says Rob. He in particular looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him, his usual easygoing persona gone under a severe, intense expression.

My stomach flips. “I’m fine,” I insist again. “Where’s my car?”

A flicker of amusement passes over Rob’s face despite his fury. “Back gate,” he answers. “Right, LJ?”

A few paces away, LJ nods. “Couldn’t get the damn thing up the hill at the back,” he says. “But it’s there.”

“So it’s in one piece,” Rob goes on. “More than we can say for you.”

“How’s your head?” asks Tuck. He was probably the one who got the ice pack, I figure. I press a palm to my temple again.

“Not too bad,” I say. “I think it was just a...” I cast around for an explanation that makes sense. “I was stressed out, had too much coffee—”

“And didn’t eat breakfast,” Tuck chides.

This is true. And it’s a very good excuse for passing out.

“Or lunch,” I say, adding a sheepish smile for good measure. “You’re right.”

The air in the room is still taut, impatient.

“What time is it?” I ask, frowning.

“It’s almost 3:30,” Will answers. He’s sunk into an armchair, hunched over, brooding in a way that I’ve never seen him. “You scared us, Maren.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I apologize, stumbling. I scared them, scared Will—that seems almost impossible. Sure, he doesn’t want me hurt, doesn’t want the metaphorical blood on his hands. But this sudden sincerity—it’s enough to make me dizzy all over again. Those clear eyes of his are pained like he can’t even bear to look at me.

And then the truth bursts out of me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I get these...I have epilepsy. I have seizures sometimes, if I’m stressed out or...or just because, honestly. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to...I don’t know, seem vulnerable, or anything.”

---