“Enough,” he said, his gaze immediately falling on me.
“Excuse me?”
“You made a big speech about showing you kindness and consideration, then you run off and hide. Where’s your consideration for us?”
My mouth dropped open. I barely registered that he stalked across the room. What I’d said was that it wasn’t a game. How did he get a speech from that? Why did he think I needed to show them consideration? After everything they’d put me through?
“By hiding in here, you’re denying us a chance to show you any kindness.”
“By leaving me alone to heal, you are showing me kindness.”
He stopped in front of me and slowly shook his head. His nearness worried me, and I shuffled back half a step. He scowled and followed.
“You are not allowed to hide in here like a frightened rabbit.”
I stopped and stared at him, too angry to speak for a moment. A rabbit?
I had every right to cower in here. Despite my stitches and still sore neck, almost every man out there had the same thought: Try again. They couldn’t even give me the week I’d asked for to let me rest. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if they all started stomping their way into the room insisting.
“Wait. Why are you in here?” I asked.
“To talk some sense into you.”
“No. I mean, why you? Why not Paul or Henry or one of the other men out there waiting to meet me? You’ve already met me, talked to me, and told me you’re interested in me. Why did they let you through the door without a fight?”
He cocked a humorless grin at me and leaned close. A finger of fear trailed down my spine, and I struggled to hold myself still. He hadn’t attacked me. He’d killed the man who had. But I knew he still wanted to bite me.
“Who says they didn’t fight me?” His exhale brushed my ear on the side that was still stitched up. I wanted to step back but didn’t want to prove his words about hiding in fear correct.
I’m not defenseless, I reminded myself.
He didn’t immediately pull away. Instead, he stepped closer, set his hands on my shoulders, and breathed deeply. I trembled.
“Charlene,” he said softly, “let me protect you.”
I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze, our faces inches apart. The twist pulled at my healing skin.
“How? By letting you bite me? That’s not protection. If you wanted to protect me, you’d promise never to bite me or let anyone else try.”
He scowled, and I could feel his frustration and anger. His fingers on my shoulders twitched, and I held my breath. Without meaning for it to happen, my will solidified again. I held it ready.
After another moment, he straightened away and let his hands drop. With relief, I dropped the hold on my will as he gave his attention to Mary, who hesitated by the exterior door.
“Gregory misses you,” he said to her. “He didn’t realize he wouldn’t be able to spend time with you when he agreed to a postpone Claiming.”
Mary flushed, and I grew angry. He was only trying to manipulate the situation to get me to return to my old routine...if you could call it a routine. But how dare he make Mary feel guilty.
“Gregory is welcomed in here any time,” I said, staring at the back of Thomas’ head. “Just as Paul and Henry are. In fact, any of you who are not interested in biting me are welcome.”
He turned to eye me.
“And I’ll know when someone’s lying,” I said, crossing my arms stubbornly as I’d seen him do so many times.
He slowly bent his head in acknowledgement. Then, he turned and left.
A moment after Mary closed the door behind him, someone else knocked on the door. She arched a brow at me, and I nodded.
She pulled open the door. A smile lit her face at the sight of Gregory. Guilt jabbed me a bit. I turned and made my way back to my room. There, I went to the window and seriously considered my circumstance.
I was so convinced there was nowhere else for me. But, how did I really know for sure? Was I willing to continue to risk my wellbeing by staying here? I watched men stride from the trees. They looked at the laundry, the closed door, then up at my window. I didn’t flinch away from their stares. I’d known they weren’t ready to give up. More came until the yard filled. I saw Thomas, Paul, Henry, and Anton in their ranks.
This wasn’t how I pictured my life when I’d left. I’d known it would be hard, that there would be struggles. But to this degree? No. I’d imagined I would eventually find a place to settle down where I could start over, and people wouldn’t care where I’d come from. I thought I would find a place where the Pennys of the world wouldn’t find me. Though I doubted Penny would find me here, I also began to doubt I could live any kind of life here.
With what I’d learned about my power during my attack, I was no longer a prisoner. I could defend myself against these creatures. I looked down at the number of men in the yard and wondered if I was crazy enough to try leaving. Did I actually think I could fight them all? Yet if I stayed, didn’t I face that same potential fate? Just a few minutes ago I’d wondered what was keeping them all from storming into the room.
With a sigh, I turned away from the window. The bag I’d brought from home leaned against the dresser. Could I leave? Would they let me? I wouldn’t know if I didn’t try.
I packed what few clothes I had into the bag. The zipper sounded like thunder in the room, loud and ominous.
Eight
Mary and Gregory broke apart when I walked into the common room. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glassy from his kiss. I grinned at her. She returned the grin until she saw the bag over my shoulders.
I didn’t say anything as my smile faded as well. Gregory turned from Mary and moved toward the door.
“Gregory,” I said. Just his name. The warning in my tone was clear.
He stopped and watched me move to the pump. I listened to the metallic screech as I filled my water container. When I finished, I turned toward the pair. They still watched me, Mary with concern and Gregory with a carefully blank expression.
“Charlene—”
“Mary, please,” I said with a shake of my head. I didn’t want those outside to have an idea that I meant to leave until I was out there. I made my way across the room, hugged her, then went to the door.
Standing tall, I pulled it open. Bright light blinded me as I stepped out and turned toward the drive. Men moved out of the way, their actions slow and expressions puzzled. It wasn’t until I walked halfway down the drive that one of them stepped in front of me.
“Where are you going?”
He was a face in a sea of faces. A man I might have met, but didn’t remember.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said.
“But you’re leaving?” he asked. Everyone watched me.
“Yes, I am.”
Growls arose.
“Don’t go,” another said. “I know I can Claim you.”
The man next to him pushed into him, and they both fell to the ground, fighting. Others started pushing at their neighbors.
“That’s why I’m leaving,” I said loudly. I stepped around the fighting men, intending to walk away, but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.
“I suggest you let go immediately,” I said without turning. My voice was low and steady despite my shaking. I’d hoped they’d just let me leave. Now, I saw they wouldn’t.
My determination to stop being a victim hardened and that piece of my will became my weapon. When the hand didn’t drop away, I swung it out in an arc. The men standing within four feet flew backwards as if pushed. They landed hard; and, too stunned by what had happened, they just lay there.