Page 3 of Lesson In Faith

The door opened again.

She froze, unable to even draw a breath.

This time, the light overhead flicked on. Through the gap where the bottle had been, she saw just how big the man really was—he was rather large, she thought, pressing her back against the wall. Older, judging by the silver shock of hair.

Suddenly, the whole row of bottles were swept aside by two of those big hands, and a pair of hard green eyes locked straight on her. “Huh. Thought I saw something back here. Bit late to be playing hide and seek with your Dom, girl. Come on out.”

She didn’t have a Dom, did she? No, she hadn’t come here with anything but the mangled clothes on her back. She had no idea what he thought she was playing hide and seek with, but when she tried to speak, her voice simply up and died under his unamused gaze.

“Don’t make me drag you out,” he said wearily. “It’s too late for games.”

A whimper rattled in her throat. She edged away, intending to cram herself in the corner where he couldn’t reach. There was no way he could get those broad shoulders between the unit and the wall.

Only, someone had stuffed the corner with enough toilet paper to last a lifetime.

Silver eyebrows, several shades darker than his hair and beard, drew into a frown. “You’re not a guest.”

She chewed on her lower lip.

Heaving a sigh, the man pulled something out of his pocket, hit a button, and held the device to his ear. “Grit, you seen anything suspicious on the cameras tonight? Shit, when did that start? Oh fantastic.”

Oh, it was a cell phone. Curiosity nearly got the better of her. Some of the residents, mainly the newer ones who joined the community because they were sick of ‘modern living’, often spoke about the technology available in the outside world, but Ridge Point was a strictly no-technology area.

“Yeah, we have a problem,” the man continued. “We have an uninvited guest lurking in the storage cupboard at the club house. No, female. Hang on.” He crooked a finger at her through the shelf. “Might as well come out. There’s only one exit, and I ain’t moving.”

Well, neither was she.

His eyes narrowed. Taking the phone from his ear, he pressed a button and set it on the shelf. Rolling his neck, he emanated waves of irritation and aggression.

Whimpering, Tamsyn cowered back further. She was intimately familiar with the kind of anger he displayed toward her; she felt the same intimidating emotions whenever she was in her father’s presence. Once that anger reached a certain point, it became volcanic, blowing up without warning, spewing terrible words and raining violence down on innocent people.

“Grit, do me a favor and get Vi out of bed.”

“It’s… two thirty-nine a.m., Merrick.”

“I know what damn time it is.” Easing his way around the end of the unit, slower this time, the man peered at her. Those hard eyes raked her over from head to toe, taking in every inch of her, before his frown disappeared. “Gonna need you to light a fire under Linnie’s ass as well.”

“Well, shit.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the man called Merrick murmured as he squeezed himself further into the narrow gap, holding out his hand. “You got a name, little owl?”

Little owl? Confused, Tamsyn looked over her shoulder, wondering if she’d somehow rolled over and squashed a feathered friend on her kamikaze fall through the forest. There were no feathers, no mutilated bird, so she guessed he was actually talking to her.

“Yes, you, darlin’. What’s your name?”

She didn’t need to open her mouth and squeak to know her vocal chords were locked. Whether it was from the cold or the fear hugging her like an overfriendly demon, she didn’t know, but one thing was for sure—she was muter than a dog toy with its squeaker ripped out.

“Think we maybe got off on the wrong foot here,” he continued when she remained silent. “Don’t know what happened to you, but you landed on your feet, little owl. Why don’t you give me your hand and let me help you out of there?”

Her eyes dropped to the offered hand. Twice the size of hers, the palm wide and strong. A ridge of calluses marked the base of his long fingers. It was obviously no stranger to hard work; it was just as obvious it could break her without too much effort.

“Violet’s on her way, Merrick. Linnie will be with you in ten.”

“Tell Vi to come in quietly.”

Tamsyn’s eyes widened. Reinforcements were coming? Was this beefcake not enough to subdue her on his own? She wondered if she was fast enough to shimmy her way to freedom through the shelves. She was quick on her feet if she didn’t get them tangled; maybe she was faster than him—he was muscular, built for lifting, not sprinting.

When her heartbeat picked up and her wrist screamed, she realized how futile daydreaming of alternative outcomes really was; she was at a distinct disadvantage on all fronts.

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