Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1) (20 page)

Instead, Tanner tugged at my shirt. I slapped at his hand. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t let go. “Checking your ribs. Now lift up your arms.”

I held my arms rigidly to my sides. “No.”

“No? No!" He raised his arms into the air and swore under his breath before trying again. I glared at him and refused to move my arms. "I didn't check them yesterday; I need to make sure they're healing right. Just let me do my job.” He yanked harder and I dug my elbows in.

I gasped as a sharp pain shot through my injured side.

Tanner stopped pulling, but he didn't let go. “See? You could've punctured a lung. Now stop fighting.”

“You're 
not
 taking my shirt off. I want some dignity. Leave the new bandages and I’ll do it myself.” I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to look at him.

He snorted. “Dignity? I don’t see how a shirt equals dignity. Stop being so childish.” He pulled at my shirt again. I didn’t unfold my arms.

Finally, he let go and tossed a roll of bandages onto the bed. “Fine! It’s your sore ribs. Do it yourself.”

He picked up the key, empty bowl, and stormed to the doorway muttering, “Impossible girl.” I didn't move until the door slammed and the key wiggled in the lock.

“Everything okay?” Locke's voice carried from the other side of the door.

“Peachy. She wouldn’t let me change the bandages on her ribs. Said she needed her dignity.”

The way Tanner mocked me sent the hairs on my neck and arms prickling.

Locke chuckled. “Just let her be. Try again tomorrow night, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Their voices continued down the hall, but I couldn’t hear the conversation.

Chapter 13

~Attacked~

Early morning light slipped through the window. I stretched as much as I could without pulling my ribs. The aroma of broth hit my nose before I noticed Locke in the room.

I gave him a weak smile as I pushed the hair out of my face. “Morning.”

“It is.” He handed me a bowl; broth with potatoes and carrots. It wasn't exactly breakfast food, but I was hungry enough not to care.

“Who's Rally? And what does she have to do with your mother?”

I squinted at him. How did he know Rally's name?

“You were dreaming.” He sat back in the chair and rested his head on his hands. Locke's brown eyes were circled by darkness and deep lines ran through his olive face. He might have been in his thirties, though gray strands ran through his wavy brown hair and beard. He was stocky, but fit, a body of someone who had spent a lifetime doing physical labor.

“Rally was -is- a dear friend.” I ate the last potato, slurped up the salty broth and held the bowl out to him. “I want to get up. Move around today. I need to get out of this room.”

Locke laughed. “How about we start with getting to the chair?”

I threw the blankets off my legs and tried to stand. My muscles were weak and stiff and they faltered. I sat back down, huffing impatiently.

Locke grasped my elbows and helped me back up. “Hey. Take it slow. You’ve been down for almost a week. Your strength will come back, but not all at once.” He guided me to the chair. After a few steps, I was a little steadier, and a lot more breathless.

“Thank you,” I panted. “It feels good to be out of bed.”

Locke knelt down and placed his hands on my shoulders. It felt strange, to have someone so big be so gentle. If he wanted to, he could snap my neck at any moment. But his eyes were kind, almost concerned. “Lea, please don’t try to leave this room on your own. It’s dangerous.”

I laughed. “I barely made it to the chair, and you always lock me in. I figured if Miller wanted to hurt me, he’d find a way in.”

“Miller's an idiot, but hardly deadly. He's not what I’m worried about.” Locke plucked the blanket off the bed and threw it over my lap.  He walked to a set of drawers and pulled out fresh sheets.

I watched him make the bed for a few moments before I answered, “He wanted to kill me. He called me ‘it’.”

“Tanner wouldn’t have let that happen.”

I snorted in response.

Locke snapped the sheet. I wondered if he always made his own bed. Or did his laundry. I considered asking him, but he spoke before I had the chance. “You’re what- sixteen? Then you're mature enough to understand. Tanner's a good kid. He means well. Give him a chance.”

I looked away. “I don't want to give anyone a chance. I want to get out of here.”

“You can't go home. It's too late for that. Even if I walked you to the fence myself, they wouldn't let you in, they'd kill you.”

“I didn't say … They wouldn't do that!” I squeaked so high it was barely audible. Locke wanted me to believe there was no escape, no home to run to.

“They would. You know too much and we're not exactly the savages they make us out to be.” His eyes crinkled and he turned his head, but not before I saw the pain in them. Locke was probably right; the women wouldn't accept me with open arms. Even though my experience here had been horrible, I wouldn't ever be able to go home.
 
I couldn’t stand by and watch girls continue to kill.

“That doesn't mean I want to be your prisoner forever.”

“I told you. We're keeping you safe. You don't know how dangerous it is out there. And Tanner-” He sighed. “He’s almost as old as you, but not nearly as mature. That’s my fault. I protected him too much. You're a learning experience for him. His guilt is eating him up. Try to at least be understanding with him.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s learning experience and I didn’t want to be captured and held hostage.” I clutched the blanket in frustration. My heart thrummed in my ears.

“But you are for now and you’re going to have to deal with that,” Locke said. “This isn't easy on any of us. Just don’t take it out on the kid. Hell, take it out on me for all I care.” He crossed the room and towered over me. I cringed away.

Locke’s voice softened. “Do you want to get back in bed?”

Tears burned behind my eyelids.
Keep it together, Lea. You've already blubbered once in front of this man. You have to stay strong if you're going to get out of here.

“No.” I glanced at the freshly made bed and suddenly felt dirty. A shower would be wonderful, but they didn’t have electricity. I doubted they had a shower. “Can I get washed up, maybe some clean clothes, though?”

“Sure.” Locke smiled. “I’ll send Tanner up with soap and water.” He walked out the door and the rattle of the key echoed down the hall.

I got up and slowly made my way back to the bed. Though I was still weak, it was a little easier. I sat on the edge, exhausted. Once I caught my breath, I went back to the chair. If I was going to get my strength back, I needed to exercise.

***

“Lea?” I felt a jar and my head slipped off of my hand.

“Tanner.” I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?” I was still in the chair, blanket wrapped around me. The room was brighter and sunlight had warmed my arm closest to the window.

“Afternoon. I brought you some soap and water. And a clean shirt.” He motioned to a large bowl sitting on the floor. “Want me to bring it to you?”

A sudden urge hit me. I groaned. “No. Tanner? I have to use the bathroom.”

He responded with a blank stare.

“I have to pee. Where's the bathroom?”

“Um. The closet's right there. Need help getting to it?” He held my elbow as I stood.

“No. I’ll take it slow.” Calling the little space behind the door a closet was generous. There were some hooks on a wall and a small mirror across from it. On the floor was a metal bucket.

“Where’s the toilet?”

“Isn’t the bucket in there?” Tanner called.

I sighed. I was supposed to pee in the bucket. I longed for our bathroom at home, complete with running water and working toilet. When I shut the door, I was encased in blackness. I opened the door a crack and found the bucket. After I finished, I swore to myself for not thinking about toilet paper.

I stood at the end of the bed. Tanner had spread the blanket back over it and had laid out a towel, a shirt, and a comb. The bowl of steaming water had been moved to the table.

“Ready?” He dipped the washcloth in the water.

“Thanks. I'm good now. I'll let you know if I need anything.” I moved my eyes from him to the door. He looked up, but didn't move and wasn't getting my hint. I gestured toward the door and used a sharper tone. “You can leave now.”

Tanner let out an exasperated sigh. “You need my help.” His jaw flexed and his eyes fixed on me.  He wasn't going to leave without a fight.

I thought about asking him if he had any common decency, but I was sure that would only anger him further. Instead, I said, “I'll be fine. Now go.”

Red crept up his neck and spread on his cheeks. He slammed the rag into the bowl.  “Why don't you accept my help? You're injured. I could've helped you and you'd be resting in bed by now.” His low tone frightened me more than any yell.

I needed to clean up, yet I didn’t want his help. If I fought with him, he might leave, and take everything with him. I longingly watched the steam roll off the water.

I spit out, “Fine. You can help me,” before I changed my mind.

Tanner's eyes lit up, but he straightened his mouth. “I'm glad you've decided to be reasonable.”

I rolled my eyes. I glanced at the shirt on the bed and an idea formed. “Tanner, do you have any trousers or short pants I can wear?”

He thought for a moment before he answered, “I’ll be right back.”