3. Maddy

Chapter 3

Maddy

I must have fallen asleep at some point in the evening after crying myself near to exhaustion, lying on the surprisingly comfortable bed my jailers had placed in the prison they called my bedroom. Some small part of my mind had noted the handmade and well-worn comforter and down pillows as my body had eventually succumbed to the need for rest. Well, at least it was a comfortable prison.

I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes as I realized the room had gone pitch dark. Had I slept the entire day away? A glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table showed it was nearly two in the morning. Shit. That probably looked bad, refusing to come down for the rest of the day. What must they be thinking about me? More importantly, did I even care?

The sound of my stomach gurgling, demanding to be fed, suppressed any worries I may have had. That grilled cheese sandwich had been the first food I'd eaten in too many hours, and the unsightly noises coming from my middle were making it clear that it had not been nearly enough.

I tiptoed to the door, unlocked it, and peeked my head into the hallway to see if there was anyone clearly awake. I doubted it, but I still wasn't sure I was ready to face anyone just yet. Having satisfied myself that I was indeed alone, I crept down the stairs to the kitchen in search of food.

I opened the fridge quietly, only to have the light nearly blind me in the near-total darkness. It was a wonder I had made it down here without knocking into something and banging up my legs with bruises. I still had no idea what the layout of the house was.

"Finally get hungry?" The gruff voice from behind nearly made me jump out of my skin.

"Christ!" I screamed, fear seizing my heart in a vice grip as I spun on my heel to face whoever was behind me. In a rush, all the feelings of that night came flooding back into my mind, stealing my breath and gripping my heart with icy claws. I looked around wildly for somewhere, anywhere, to flee.

"Breath, little lady. It's okay. You're safe here. Nobody's gonna hurt you." The voice called to me, breaking through my panic. I sucked in deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm my pounding heart.

I am safe. I'm at the safe house. The only people here are the men hired to protect me. I am safe. Breathe, Maddy. Breathe.

Slowly, I turned around to face whoever had spoken to me. At the table sat… well, I couldn't remember his na me. The grumpy one who had stormed out. He sat there in pure darkness, the light from the fridge illuminating his form just enough for me to make out his face and the glass of dark liquid that his hand wrapped around.

"You scared me," I hissed into the dimly lit darkness. My hand clutched my chest, willing my heart to return to some semblance of a normal pace.

"I apologize. Wasn't my intention." His thick southern drawl was very pronounced, as though he chewed every word through his back teeth.

"What are you doing down here?" I asked, my arms crossing over my chest protectively again. Being in a house with four strange men didn't exactly put one's mind at ease, even if they were the good guys. My entire world had turned upside down, and I no longer felt confident in who was good, who was bad, or what to even do.

"Couldn't sleep."

Obviously, he wasn't a man of many words. Awkwardness sunk over the room like a heavy fog. Well, there were only two ways to handle this: flee back to the solace and safety of my room, or make peace with the idea of eating at the table alongside this strange man who had spoken less than five sentences to me the entire time I had been here.

My stomach betrayed me by gurgling loudly just then, the sound seeming to echo in the room, much to my embarrassment. I had to admit, only one of those options would give me the sustenance I desperately needed.

Steeling my nerves, I shrugged his words off and turned back to the fridge, the door still standing wide open. Looking over the well-stocked shelves, I quickly realized I had no idea what I was or was not allowed to eat. Shit. I'd have to ask him.

"Is there anything in here I shouldn't eat? I don't want to be rude."

"Eat whatever you want," he grumbled. The sound of glass hitting the table clicked in my ears. I foraged my way through the contents of the fridge, settling on convenience over elegance as I grabbed a hunk of cheese and some fruit. Now, to see if there were any crackers around here. I turned from the fridge, setting my items on the counter before glancing around, realizing that there were more cabinets than I had realized.

"Where would I find crackers — or something like it?" I asked casually.

He simply pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the high-top bar. My brow furrowed in confusion, but I walked over to the door, opening it to find pure darkness. My hand fumbled over the pantry wall until I found the light switch, flicking it on to find a surprisingly large room lined from floor to ceiling with shelves and cabinets around each wall.

"Holy hell," I muttered under my breath. He had heard me if the deep chuckle was anything to go by. I scoured the shelves, noting the jars of food, both commercially sold and homemade. It wasn't until the far end of the pantry that I found the boxes of crackers, macaroni and cheese, and more. Grabbing one from the shelf, I exited the pantry, turned the light off, and headed back into the kitchen. It was easy enough to find the plates — or maybe I was just lucky to find them on my second try. In no time at all, I prepared my meal, and I made my way to the table.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, realizing I had no idea what I would do if he said no. With a wave of his hand, he offered me a seat, if you could call it that.

Settling into the offered chair, I began my meager meal, staring down at my plate to avoid eye contact. The first bite exploded on my tongue, making my stomach cramp from a lack of nutrition over the last two days. Had it been two days or three at this point? I wasn't even sure. I had spent so long at the police station, that time had become meaningless.

Moments of silence passed there in the darkened dining room as I tucked into my food, and he continued sipping his drink. The tension was palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to care much when my stomach was trying to claw its way up out of my body to get at the food faster.

"I'm sorry for not being so kind when you arrived today," he said out of nowhere, making me jump a second time at the sudden sound of his voice.

"Um… it's cool." I shrugged his comment off a little, unsure of exactly how to respond. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind."

His short chuckle in response made me smile.

"That's putting it mildly, I reckon. From the sounds of it, you went through hell and back. I'm just frustrated. I have no reason to be a dick to you." It was a moment of vulnerability on his part, and I was well aware of it. The grouchy man, as I had taken to calling him in my mind, as I could not remember his name. D-something. Derrick? Dylan? No, it was something different that I couldn't quite place. But it didn't matter. He was an enigma at best, and his vulnerability wasn't something I was about to take lightly.

"Yeah, it's been hard." I thanked God for the darkness in the room, so he wouldn't be able to see the blush that raised to my cheeks at my lame response.

"I can imagine."

"I doubt it," I said under my breath with a derisive scoff before I could think better of it.

"Darlin', you have no idea." His return scoff mirrored my own, and I felt a sort of kinship with the snarky man.

"Well, then enlighten me, why don't you?" I shot back, taking another bite of fruit from my plate.

"Nah, that's not polite conversation, or suitable for a young woman such as yourself."

"Dude, I just watched a man get his brains blown out in front of my face. I had his blood spattered all over my clothes and body. Do you think anything you say will faze me? Please." Contempt at the notion laced my words thickly.

The sound of his chair creaking in the darkness echoed through the kitchen loudly. I looked over to see him leaning against the table with both elbows. Even in the dim lighting, I could still see the nearly sinister smirk on his face.

A look I knew all too well.

Mischief.

"The five of us served in the military and special ops for over a decade. Personally, I've served for eighteen years, between the different branches and specialty services. Trust me, little girl. We've seen some shit."

As much as I wanted to have a bratty battle spectacular with him, something he said threw me off.

"Wait, the five of you? I know I can't remember names for shit, but I do alright with numbers. And I'm positive I only met four of you."

"There's a fifth member of our little crew, but he's away on some… business. I'm sure if you stick around long enough, you'll get to meet him. His name's Carrick. Now, do you remember my name?" He tossed back, that smirk still holding steady on his face.

"Of course I do." I did not, in fact, remember. But I wasn't about to let him know that.

"Oh, do you, now? Well, then what's my name?" Lifting his glass to his lips, he sat back against his chair, calling my bluff.

"It's…" I trailed off, searching my mind quickly for the answer I knew was in there somewhere. "It's De…Derrick?"

The smirk on his face widened into a grin, and I knew I was sunk.

"Try again, sugar," he chuckled.

"Dylan?" I ventured, with much less confidence.

"Nope." The ‘p' at the end of the word popped loudly. I scoured my memory, trying to figure it out. I knew it started with a D, and he was older than the rest, by the looks of it. What was an old guy D name?

"Dominic?" I tried once more, feeling even less sure of myself.

"You're not even close. You do have trouble with names, don't you?" He laughed lightly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I do." A laugh bubbled out of me unbidden at the absurdity of how difficult it was to remember his name. "I've always struggled with it."

"Maybe we'll have to wear name tags to help you out then."

"Or just remind me and don't be an ass about it. Then again, that seems like it'd be a problem for you."

"You're a feisty one."

"Gotta be something. Better to be feisty than boring."

"The name's Deacon, and it's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ayers."

"Ugh, please do not call me that. It sounds like I'm old. Or my mom. Both, I'm not okay with," I grumbled, taking a bite of cheese. The flavor was an unexpectedly pleasant surprise, nutty and sharp. It was expensive, that was for sure, and tasted divine.

"Well then, what shall I call you?"

"Call me Maddy. Everyone who knows me does."

"And would you say I know you?"

"I'd say you're about to know me. I'm stuck here for God knows how long with complete strangers and… ugh!" I smacked my hands down on the table in frustration.

"What's got your panties in a twist now?" he asked with a chuckle, obviously amused by my outburst.

"I'm stuck here with you all, knowing no one, and I don't even have access to anything I know. No phone. No computer. No internet."

"Technically, we do have internet," he shrugged.

"And how am I supposed to use it, huh?" My arms crossed angrily over my chest, sinking back against the chair with a harrumph of disdain.

"Well, that's another issue entirely." Leaning forward onto the table, I could see the way that smirk gave way to a dimple. He was a handsome man, though romance was the furthest thing from my mind currently. "All joking aside, you realize that it's for your protection, right?"

"I'm not sure how anything I'd be doing on my phone or a computer would make me any less safe than I am now," I pushed back with a roll of my eyes.

He grunted, then grew silent for a few moments, leaving me to eat my food in peace. My plate was mostly empty when he spoke again.

"Maddy, you being on social media, or communicating with people you know and love, poses a tremendous risk. It's not hard to find someone online these days. The important thing here is to keep you safe. The most efficient way to keep you safe is to keep you hidden. You'd be surprised at how easy it is to give information to the bad guys unintentionally." His voice was calm and understanding, which I appreciated. I would have pushed him off had he shown me pity. Thankfully, he didn't.

"Still doesn't mean I have to like it," I whined petulantly, kicking absentmindedly at the leg of the table beside me.

"No one said you did, darlin'. We just demand obedience."

"I'm not big on following orders."

"Ha, you're going to have a tough time in this house, then, darlin'." His chuckle was louder, ringing out through the room as he lifted his glass to his lips, draining the last of the amber contents.

"Because you're all military guys?" I asked, picking up my empty plate and carrying it to the dishwasher to be washed.

He paused for a moment, making me glance back over at him as he stood from his seat as well. He hesitated for a moment, a full-on grin gracing his face to the point that two sharp dimples appeared.

"Sure… we'll go with that."

With that, he exited the room, carrying his empty glass with him and leaving me to wonder what on Earth he could have meant.