Chapter 2

Zoey

The heat of the sun beats down on my skin as I stretch my feet out on the lush green grass at the edge of the blanket. Setting my book aside, I turn my face upward to the sky, basking in its rays and inhaling the fragrant flowers that dot the open field for as far as my eyes can see. A gentle breeze brushes against my skin, offering a brief reprieve from the heat, but it also carries the uneasy feeling of eyes on me. Eyes that are always watching me. There's no escape from the darkness that lurks behind his black eyes, constantly boring into my flesh. Even out here, yards away from his watchful stare.

"You shouldn't be out here." I freeze as Justin moves in behind me interrupting my solitude. His shadow looms over me, casting a dark blanket over the sunshine. His voice sends chills down my arms, despite the heat of the sultry summer day beating down on me.

"I'm just enjoying the sunshine." I contest his argument and move into a less vulnerable position. Fear floods through my veins being caught off guard and alone with him. "It's a beautiful day and I'm tired of being cooped up in the house."

Justin kneels in front of me, the stale beer on his breath fans over my face, overpowering the sweet scent of summer flowers and freshly cut grass. His hair is cropped short and his face is hard with a constant scowl etched onto his features. "The view is spectacular," he eyes me up and down, "but your father will have my ass if he catches you disobeying his orders again."

A sneer tugs at his lips, twisting them up into an unsettling grin. I walked right into that.

Justin has been a constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember, serving as my father's right-hand man. His loyalty to my father is unquestionable, evident by his missing right hand, but his watchful eyes and controlling ways have always made me uneasy. He is dedicated to keeping this place running smoothly, but he also takes it upon himself to track my every move. I have no interest in a relationship with him or any man here, but that only adds to the loneliness. My father's group is tight knit. He doesn't take too well to company and I can't remember ever seeing a woman other than me around. I've learned to keep my thoughts and emotions guarded, knowing the inevitable heartache that comes with being a part of this solitary life.

Justin's warning confuses me. I'm normally free to move about unchaperoned as long as I stay within the set perimeter that my father has established for me. This stretch of open field is pushing those boundaries but it's quiet out here. Peaceful even. A welcome change from the metallic smells of the lab and bunkhouses.

Acres of green grass stretch out for miles covered with patches of wildflowers, the bright colors a stark contrast to the realities of this place. Further away, the trees sway gently in the breeze, providing a peaceful backdrop. Behind that, a steep rocky cliff keeps me in and the outside world out. The scenery is broken up only by the scattered scraps of rusted metal and abandoned vehicles surrounding an old storage unit looming in the distance.

This spot has become a refuge from the harsh reality I live in. A place I can lose myself in my daydreams. In my mind, I'm rescued by a mysterious stranger and whisked away to freedom and whatever lies beyond this place. Here, within these walls, no man can break through the impenetrable barrier of my father's control. If my father has his way, I'll spend the rest of my existence trapped in this compound until I either break or the world collapses into chaos at his hands.

I swallow back the bitterness and unease in my mouth as I try to stay composed in front of Justin. It's a flavor I've become all too familiar with in his presence. "Why? Is there something happening?"

Justin's toothy grin snaps into a tight scowl and his hand closes around my wrist in a vice grip that's so tight it will leave a bruise. "When is that ever your business?"

"It's… It's not." My voice cracks in response. I know better than to ask questions but there's an uneasiness in the air today. The activity around the compound is unusually active.

It's been seven years since my father brought me here and built this place from the ground up. But even now, weeks shy of my twenty-first birthday, my father still sees me as naive and unaware of what goes on around here. On the surface, it's a pretty mask disguising the true nature of my father's sadistic ways. Growing up within these walls, off the grid and hidden from prying eyes, I've become all too familiar with the harsh realities of this world. The sound of explosions and the sight of men missing fingers or limbs, like Justin, are all too common occurrences. Although my father tries to shelter me from that part of his world, it's always in the forefront. It's a constant reminder of the violence that lurks behind the beauty of this place.

"Take yourself home now," Justin orders me. "I'll be up later to check on you."

"Fine. I'm going." I huff and roll my eyes. When he breaks his hold on my wrist, my spine stiffens, "But don't bother. I don't want to see you."

My movements are slow as I gather up the blanket and the book I was reading into my arms. A storm rages behind his dark eyes. I've pissed him off good this time. His lips part but before he can respond, a voice comes through the walkie on his hip biding me a reprieve.

His eyes narrow on me as he draws the walkie to his mouth, "All clear on the East."

I turn away from him, leaving him to his rounds. When I no longer feel his eyes watching me, I toss a glance over my shoulder as he slips into the tree line running the length of the property.

My normal obedient temperament shatters like glass in his wake. I don't appreciate his tone or being told what to do by a man that makes my skin crawl. In my insolence, my gaze strays to the storage unit, and while every instinct in my body tells me to stay clear of whatever is going on, there's a rebel voice within dying to burst free that overpowers them all. I let my inner rebel loose for the first time in my life, hauling myself away from the path back to the main house and toward the rickety old shed that Justin seemed to have his focus on when it wasn't glued to me. I don't have a plan, supplies, or an inkling of how to pull this off but that will not stop me this time. To hell with them all. I hate this life and I refuse to let it break me. There's more to this life than what's in store for me here. There must be a way out and I will find it.

The sound of rumbling thunder heading down the gravel road takes me by surprise. In a panic, I duck down into knee-high weeds to hide behind a rusty old truck propped up with cinder blocks. Sweat from the afternoon sun beads at the back of my neck while I'm crouched low against the heap of hot, crumpled metal hiding me from view. Burrs jab into my ankles making me wish I was wearing something to protect my feet and legs other than the long white sundress I chose this morning when I thought I'd be alone with my thoughts and a good book instead of making a break for it. The sound grows louder as a convoy of trucks pass by, the weight of their cargo crunching their tires along the gravel road. Inhaling a sharp breath, I wait them out. With nothing to do but let my mind wander, a new fear fills me. I don't know who these people are, but I know nothing good can come with the amount of explosives they're moving off the compound.

After several minutes, the convoy clears out and the air around me grows silent, all but the thudding of my heart. I let go of the breath I'm holding, only to realize the dull pounding isn't coming from my chest. Following the sound, I move closer to the storage unit, careful to stay out of view if Justin or anyone else wanders by. In a few short strides, I'm close enough to lean in and press my ear to the wood. The distinct sound of pounding and shuffling feet coming from the other side of the wall is clear. There's someone inside.

If I had any sense of self-preservation, I'd turn away and hurry back to the main house where I belong. Instead, I cling to the remnants of curiosity that's gotten me this far, despite the fear growing in my gut. I barely make out the muffled voice on the other side because I'm already standing at the door with my fingers wrapped around a rusted metal rod found among the scraps.

With trembling hands, I wedge the rod into the gap between the door and the jamb. Its sharp and jagged edges bite into my palms as I pry the door open with all my strength. The wood groans in protest, splinters flying as the door gives way and his gruff voice hits my ears and steals my breath.

"Don't move."