The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1) (23 page)

“Don’t go. I can sense something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want you to interrogate him when I’m not around. That’s not fair.”

I raise my arms, hoping for a hug before we walk away.

“Oh, Addie.” She stands and pulls me into her arms, her lip twitching as she fights back tears. “I wish you weren’t suffering so much. Don’t do this because you’re in pain... don’t try to run away from your mom’s death. I’ll take the drinking over you disappearing, any day.”

“I won’t disappear. I promise.”

Sad as it is, I’m glad that she thinks this has to do with my mom.

She leans back and squeezes my cheeks, shaking her head with a long face.

“You’re positive Trent’s car will make it up there?”

I give her a lying nod, noticing a muscle in Quinn’s neck twitch when Trent’s name is mentioned—a flat out whopper of a lie to say that he’s driving.

“I’ll call if we have any problems. See you soon,” I say, my hand slipping slowly from hers.

We take the stone pathway to the front of the house, my shoulders dropping with a release of tension when we reach the front.

He walks alongside me, taking my bag while caressing my lower back.

“Can I cry again?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

“Okay, because I think I’m about to lose my shit.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“That I should’ve gone to the cops last night. I waited too long. It wouldn’t have looked as bad if I had called right away. Now, I’m just guilty... it’s too late.”

“We’re gonna make it. My life can’t get any worse at this point. The only way is up.”

His warm hand travels under my shirt, tugging me closer. He kisses the top of my scraggly hair as I try to ignore my spoken lies. They’re going to eat away at me, same as the guilt over my mom’s death.

“If the only way is up,” I whisper. “Then let’s get our asses to Afterglow.”

Chapter Twelve

“IS IT POSSIBLE FOR YOUR feet to be numb
and
on fire at the same time?” I ask, limping up the driveway to Afterglow. “We must’ve walked for twelve hours until we caught a ride from that couple.”

“We would’ve been walking twice as long if they hadn’t pulled over and offered. They were nice.”

“I saw Mississippi plates on the back before we got inside.”

“Is that the first time you ever caught a ride from someone?”

“Yep.”

“I’m a horrible influence.”

I smile and take his hand, feeling just the opposite. “I make my own decisions. You haven’t swayed me in any way, if anything, you’ve opened my eyes. There’s a difference.”

He stops and guides me closer, starting to finger comb my hair.

“Are you trying to make me look pretty for the witch?” I tease.

He grins and reaches under my collar, taking my gold heart necklace out from underneath the fabric. “You are pretty.” His hands move behind my neck, his fingers working to unhook the chain.

“Hey.” I place my hand over it so it’s not removed. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t see you wearing this down by the river.”

“I didn’t have it there. I got it from my room when Nadine was making us breakfast.”

“You should hide it.”

“Why?”

“Roxanne’s an ass about stuff like this. We’re not allowed to have any personal items in view. You can keep it, just don’t flaunt it. That’s what bothers her the most. She said it causes too many fights within the group. She wants us all to have the same things—food, shelter, and clothing. No identities. No personalities other than the ones she assigns us.” He puts the necklace in the pocket of my duffle bag and we keep walking.

“My mom gave me that. I can’t lose it.”

“We’ll hide it on the grounds, maybe out by the barn.”

I nod. “So what else do I need to know?”

“The retreat should be quiet today since it’s the beginning of the week. Mondays and Tuesdays are dead time. It’s when we take care of the grounds and the main building, upkeep and maintenance. The employees here don’t just fuck, they clean the pool, mow the lawn, trim the bushes, and cut the wood for the fire pits.”

“And all that work is in exchange for food and a place to sleep, no cash at all?”

“And a hot shower and an open bar. It’s fair. No one ever complains about not getting paid. It’s like having a parent care for you and you’re assigned chores.”

“Except we’re not twelve.”

He laughs and looks back, hearing a car door slam.

“I bet that’s Trent.”

“Let’s keep walking. I don’t want to see that jerk.” I glance over my shoulder down the winding drive, unable to see if it’s him. “What else?”

“Well... when we’re not working, we can use the weight room, the pool, read, or hang out and talk.”

“No TV, movies, stuff like that?”

“No devices of any kind.”

“What about my cell?”

“No, you’ll have to get approval from Roxanne to make a call. Tell her you have to check in with your family and she’ll let you use the retreat’s phone, as long as she can listen in.”

“For fuck’s sake, really?”

“It’s not a big deal to any of us. We don’t have any of that stuff to begin with.”

I send my aunt a text, saying we made it and that I’ll call in a day or two. “What if I hide my cell and tell her I don’t—”

“Trust me. Give it to her when she asks.”

My head turns when I hear Trent’s voice. “How’d they beat us?” he asks.

“Your cousin’s car is shit, that’s how. And on top of that she drives like she’s a fucking old lady,” Dylan says.

“At least she gave us a ride, dickwad.”

“Hey, you up there, did you hitchhike?” Dylan calls to us. “Must’ve.”

“Bad timing,” Quinn says under his breath. “I can’t believe my brother actually tagged along. What ‘til he meets Roxanne.”

“You think she’ll hire him?”

“No question. She’ll love him.”

I look up the dirt drive and back behind us. “I don’t remember it being this long from the main road.”

“That’s because you were in a car last time.” He squeezes my hand, ignoring the razzing remarks from Trent about being controlled by a pussy. “Are you nervous?”

“About the cops? The pimp? Being here? The assholes behind us? Yes... but not like I was when we were in the restroom at the gas station. I thought I was gonna pass out from fright. I feel better now that we’re out of Albany.” I stop to slip off one of my sneakers, brushing a couple of stones off the bottom of my sore foot.

“Shit Addie, you’re bleeding.” He bends down, lifting my foot. “Fuck, you’ve got like three blisters. You should’ve told me.”

“They’ll heal. Besides, what were you gonna do, carry me?”

“I would’ve figured something out... I could’ve packed the back of your sneaker with leaves or maybe some moss.”

“Quinn.”

“Hmm?” He helps me back into my sneaker, tying it loosely before we start walking again.

“I also feel better because of you. You’re the first guy I’ve ever met who I think I can trust. And you put me first. I’ve never felt that. I’m used to people thinking about their own needs before mine, most of my exes were that way. You even stood up to your brother when he called me a bitch. It shows how much you care.”

“I do care.”

“Fuck, look at that place,” Dylan says, catching up to us.

I turn and see Afterglow ahead, its giant windows ablaze, the black metal and red cedar exterior enveloped amongst tall pines.

“It’s like a lighthouse, leading us to shore,” I whisper.

“Lighthouses also warn of danger,” Quinn adds.

“True.”

“You guys are pathetic.” Trent speeds past us, knocking Quinn forward with a punch to his shoulder. “Let’s go. I want a beer and a fucking burger. I can smell ‘em cooking on the grill.”

“Bro.” Dylan grabs Quinn’s shoulder, hanging back with us. “Trent said this bitch who owns the place hits you. What’s that about?”

He shrugs. “She gets off on it. No big deal.”

“Like, some BDSM shit or something?”

“No, it’s all one-sided. I figured out early on it was a way to keep the job without sticking my dick in her.”

He shakes his head, then walks faster to catch Trent. “I’ll never understand you, buddy.” He calls back... “An all-star athlete in high school and a good-looking kid who only let one woman touch his cock... I guess two now... it’s sad. I don’t think you’re an Ellis. You’ve got Mom’s blood in you more than Dad’s. Fucking pussy.”

I wait until he’s further ahead before I say, “He’s an ass.”

“Yeah. I can’t argue with that.”

“Why do you even talk to him? To either of them?”

“Because he’s my brother... and I guess because I don’t have anyone else.”

“You do now.”

We step up the concrete stairs, my hand sliding along the iron railing, my face lit by a black iron chandelier hanging from large timbered beams sheltering the front entrance. I start to sweat and an immediate fear hits me as I enter the retreat. My heart’s in a sprint and my throat’s so tight it’s hard to swallow.

I separate from Quinn, dropping my bag and sitting in a leather chair off to the side, close to the corridor leading to the rooms. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been awake for two days straight, or the fact that I haven’t eaten since the toast this morning, or the thought that I killed someone that keeps creeping back into my head, but something’s making me dizzy. My ears are popping. My legs are tottering. My feet are stinging. Quinn’s voice is muffled. Fuck.

I lower my head between my legs, gazing at the hardwood floor.

“You okay? Need some water?” Quinn asks, getting a nod in response.

His feet disappear, returning a minute later, handing me a glass. I lift my head and thank him with a weary smile.

“You need to sleep. It’s been a long fucking day.”

“Two days,” I correct him, finishing the water and placing the empty glass on a side table.

“Maybe taking some deep breaths will help calm you down.”

The office door behind the front desk opens and Roxanne walks out. She looks like she’s posing for a photo shoot—one hand slinking up the doorframe, rising high above her head, the other unbuttoning her blouse—her body language full of desire when she catches sight of Dylan.

“Shit,” Dylan grumbles.

Her blouse hangs open to flaunt her big tits. Giant tits. I forgot about those things.

With a lick of her finger, she circles her nipple, bringing it to erection. “Well looky what we have here.” She struts over to Dylan, her raspy voice still hanging in the air. “What did you bring me, Tyler? New meat?”

“Tyler?” Dylan looks at Trent.

“It’s my name here, get used to it.”

“I asked for Quinn, but he’s even better,” she says.

Dylan rubs his hands together, widening his stance to present his body to her. “Yeah, I’ve got a big piece of
meat
for you. I could use a good fuck that isn’t interrupted by these two douchebags.” He glares at us.

“Who?” She looks around, seeing us off to the side.

In her black two-inch heels and skin-tight jeans, she gestures with a finger to come closer. The four of us form a line, shoulder-to-shoulder facing her large exposed breasts as she paces.

She stops in front of Dylan, sizing him up, doing the same with Quinn, then continues to saunter before us while we stand in silence.

“Brothers?”

“Yep,” Dylan says, cracking his knuckles. “Only I like to fuck.”

She releases a wicked laugh and slides her hand down his chest, stopping over his dick.

“Take it out.”

He takes off his shirt, drapes it over her shoulder, unzips, and places his hands on the back of his head.

“Work for it,” he sneers.

“My, my.” She reaches in his jeans and pulls out his semi-erect cock, giving it a stroke.

“It’ll be double that size in a minute. Good enough?”

She studies his tat then brings him forward by his dick, directing him to turn around.

“Nice body. You’re definitely Quinn’s brother... fresh out of prison?” she asks. “Tats like that are from behind bars. Straight black, no shading... what did the guy use, a paperclip?”

“Pen.”

“Does the break in the necklace mean bad luck?”

“It means my mom split. No need to mix superstition with the rosary.”

“A religious boy?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes when? For holidays?”

“I’m religious when God’s my last chance.”

“At what?”

“Life.”

“Mm-kay... any sort of infections? Hepatitis? AIDS?”

“Fuck no.”

“Hmm, you don’t seem the type to care.”

“Neither do you, and if you’re not gonna suck the beast in your hand, tuck it in.”

She squints at his assertiveness, stroking his length until he’s fully erect before clutching his nuts. He lurches forward, unable to disguise that he’s in serious pain.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she seethes. “Being defiant under my roof will get you nowhere.”

“Uh,” he groans. “Cut the shit. Can I stay, or what?”

She releases him and walks over to Trent, holding his jaw and turning his head back and forth, examining his damaged face. “What happened to you?”

“Just a fight.”

“You two in trouble?” She walks over to Quinn, fingering his busted lip. “If the police are involved, I don’t care, officers show up here all the time. They’re not coming for you. Not if they want to be called out in the papers for visiting my retreat in the past. No one’s stupid enough to raid my place for a couple of homeless kids... but if someone else is after you, I need to know.”

“No one’s after us,” Trent says. “It’s cool. We were just drunk.”

“Is that right, Quinn?” She cradles his chin, checks his face, then spins him around, noticing the claw marks on the back of his neck. “Tyler, if you lie to me again, a broom handle’s going so far up your ass it’ll come out your ear, now answer my fucking question. What the fuck happened? You’re walking into my home, beaten, lying, bringing two extras along.” She approaches me and seizes my neck. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with you?”

I tighten my lips, trying to remember why I thought this would be a good idea.

“What? Everyone’s mute? Speak up if you want to stay.”