Chapter Three
Leif
Water splashes me on my face and I’m jolted awake. It takes me a second to blink away my daze. The moment clarity is on my side, I realize I’m still in the fucking nightmare from earlier. I must have passed out.
Two ice-cold blue eyes meet mine.
The angel.
Or a devil in angel’s clothing.
It’s still up for debate.
Her plump lips are pressed into a firm line and she glares at me. I take the moment to devour the pretty little thing. Unlike the wild chick I banged the night before last, this one drips with innocence. Her pale face is free of makeup, yet she is ten times more beautiful than the woman from the club that tried so hard with her blood red lips and fake lashes. This woman is perfection.
And weird as hell.
“You hurt me,” she hisses, her voice wobbling as tears well in her eyes.
Guilt consumes me, despite the fact that I’m the fucking prisoner here, and I go to reach for her. I groan to see one of my arms is tied to the bed. Thankfully, she tied it with a lot more slack and not as tight as before. Climbing up from the floor, I eye her as I stand. She watches me as if I’m a snake and might strike at any moment. Instead of attacking her, I sit back down on the bed willing the dizziness to subside. I must have a concussion or something.
How is it real that I’m being held prisoner by this harmless woman?
Her wispy, almost white, blonde hair has been neatly braided to where it ends about midway down her back. Bright blue eyes with dark lashes jutting out over them watch my every move. Naturally pink lips pout out and when I smile at her, the pink in her cheeks grows rosy red. She’s cute. Really fucking cute. Her outfit, on the other hand, is hideous. The cream colored dress is long sleeved and doesn’t show much skin. It hangs on her lithe frame and drags the floor when she walks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just,” I sigh and run my free hand through my hair, “I want to go home. It was my mistake stumbling upon your weird-ass society and if you’ll let me, I’ll be on my way. No harm done.”
Her eyes dart back and forth as if she’s considering my words. She’s about to say something when my phone starts ringing from my pocket. “November Rain” by Guns N Roses wails from my pocket and her eyes widen in shock.
I, however, am happy as fuck to have a signal and fish my phone from my pocket.
Mark.
I only have one bar of service and one bar left on my battery so I need to make this count. Swiping it open, I jerk the phone to my ear.
“Mark, listen, I careened off the road somewhere near the California Oregon border and am being held captive.”
The line crackles and I think I hear him laughing. Willow’s eyes are on mine as she watches me warily.
“Man, listen to me. I said—”
A few beeps indicate the call’s been dropped and I curse under my breath. This is unbelievable.
“You have a music box?” she mutters, mostly to herself.
My brows furrow together as I ponder her confusing words. “That’s a phone, Willow. It plays music too. Are you guys technology deprived or what?”
With caution, she approaches me. “Can I hear it again?”
The battery is almost dead and I don’t like the idea of using the rest of it to entertain her. She may have innocent intentions, but that phone may be my only lifeline.
“I can do you one better. Get my guitar from that case and hand it here,” I instruct, nodding to my case.
She hesitates briefly, as if mentally warring back and forth about what to do, before she huffs and falls to her knees in front of my guitar. It takes her a minute to figure out how to get it open and I watch with amusement. Her cute nose is scrunched up in frustration as she tries to determine how it works. When she finally manages to unlatch the last part, an accomplished smile graces her lips.
I like her smiles.
“What is it?”
I gape at her as if she’s lost her mind. “A guitar? Where am I and why do I feel like I’m in another era? How the hell do you not know what a guitar is? It’s like the backbone of all music.”
Her smile is gone and she drops her gaze to the ground. “Music is,” her eyes lift back to mine, “forbidden.”
The way she says the last word has a chill creeping up my spine. “It’s forbidden, but you want to hear it?”
She casts a quick glance toward the door and lifts my guitar from its case. “Can you play a song?”
I smirk at her and like that she blushes under my gaze. “I can play them all.”
My words are in jest but when her eyes light up, I can see that she believes me. Damn girl is gullible as hell.
Once the familiar instrument is in my grasp, I turn my head to my hand. “Can you untie me?”
She frowns, the warring emotions in her head as clear as day, and shakes her head. “Last time you—”
I pin her with a firm stare and interrupt her. “I won’t hurt you again. I promise.”
Once again, the naïve girl believes me and sets to untying me. As she leans over me, I inhale her. The sweet scent of maple permeates my senses and I close my eyes. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten, and I hope these freaks will feed me soon.
Who am I kidding?
The moment I have a chance, I’m getting out of the weird-ass community and hightailing it back to the highway.
She frees me and I nearly push her to the ground, ignoring my promise not to hurt her, and attempt to escape. But the moment her shining blue eyes meet mine, glittering with excitement, I know I won’t negate my vow.
In an odd way, it is gratifying to have someone besides me excited about music. My family sure as hell isn’t interested like I want them to be. Even Mark puts up with my music because he has to. Nobody understands my need to create and play what I write.
Situating the guitar in my lap, I pluck the pick stuck between the strings and nod my head toward the sick girl.
I strum once, in a soft manner, before regarding Willow. “What’s wrong with her?”
The glee at hearing me handle my guitar melts off her face as she glances at the girl. “That’s my sister Alice. She’s fallen ill with a sickness that my people usually don’t recover from.”
My people.
I suppress a shudder and my mind flits in a million directions. Are these people a social experiment? Part of the government? Aliens planning on taking over the human race?
The girl’s skin is littered with red whelps and it reminds me of when I had chicken pox in preschool.
“Was she not vaccinated?” I question, strumming the guitar again, not really making any music with it yet.
Willow frowns and shrugs. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
I blink at her several times before I begin playing a song the small girl might like—one I learned to play on the piano at church, long before I ever learned it on guitar. “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” comes out smooth and beautiful. I’m careful only to play loud enough for her and Alice to hear, being that music’s forbidden and all. I find myself humming the familiar words, and eventually, singing them barely above a whisper. When I finish the song, I glance up to see Willow’s reaction.
“Leif, that was…” She trails off and sniffles. Tears swim in her eyes and the smile on her lips is breathtaking.
“If it was anything like your smile,” I grin at her. “It must have been beautiful.”
Her cheeks blaze at my compliment and she turns toward her sister. “I’m sorry you have to be exposed to her. It might mean certain death for you too.”
The fact that she seems saddened by the idea gives me hope. Everyone else in this town might be drinking the creepy Kool-Aid but she, at least, seems compassionate.
“I’m not afraid, Willow. I had the same disease as a child and I’m still here.”
Her brows furrow together as her mind works. She absently reaches toward the guitar. “You survived the disease too? Like me?”
I watch as her slender fingertips trace over the strings and something beautiful strums out at her touch.
“It’ll take a lot more than that to bring this sonofabitch down.”
She flashes me a sweet smile and her cheeks once again blaze crimson. Her finding me attractive will definitely play a role in me getting my ass out of here.
“Why did you come here?” she questions finally and starts to pace the room as if her common sense suddenly reminded her I was an intruder and not a friend, albeit a handsome one.
I run a shaky hand through my hair. “It was by accident. A deer ran across the road and I swerved to miss it. After I crashed, I walked toward the scent of food cooking, hoping someone would help me. Turns out, everyone thinks I’m some terrorist.”
She frowns. “You’re a confusing man, Leif. My people have never once allowed an outsider into our community. I’m afraid of what they’ll do to you.”
That makes fucking two of us.
I seize her hand, causing her to yelp. She struggles to get away, but I forcefully tug her to me. One swipe of my thumb over the back of her hand causes her to calm though, and she stops resisting me.
“You have to help me get out of—”
Another wave of dizziness has the world spinning into a kaleidoscope of various shades of black.
Soft brushes along my cheek have me fluttering my eyes back open. A migraine throbs behind my eyes as I attempt to focus on the blonde vision before me.
“I brought you something to eat,” she says softly and drags her fingers away from my face.
The soothing touch disappears and I crave it more than the scent of maple wafting from nearby. I reach for her and find her wrist. All the other times, she seems to pull away, but this time, she remains still. The blood thunders through her veins at her pulse point and I wonder if it’s from fear of me or something altogether different. Like desire.
“I keep thinking I’ll wake up and I’ll be in my hotel bed or in my truck at a rest stop. But each time, I wake back up in this hell where I’m a prisoner held captive by an angel. I want to complain but I’ll suspend reality for a moment to let you care for me.”
My eyes focus on her parted lips and I crave to touch them. Willow is the kind of woman that musicians write songs about. She’s a muse in every sense of the word. Her face and mannerisms are sweet, yet a part of me wonders what’s not only underneath her hideous clothes, but what dances around in that head of hers. Does she wonder about her society and its validity? Does she ever consider ways to escape? Could I rescue her from this hellhole?
“Do you like it here?”
She reaches over to the bedside table with her free hand and picks up a piece of the bacon that originally lured me into this place. “I live here.”
I take a bite of the delicious meat and chew while thinking about her answer. After I swallow, I grip her wrist tightly. “That doesn’t answer my question, Willow.”
Her eyes dart over to her sister and then out the window, before finding their way back to mine. “I suppose so. My life is about to find its purpose finally. Since I’ll be eighteen soon, I will be of marrying age. The elders will choose a suitable match for me and—”
Thundering footsteps on the front porch cause her eyes to widen in fright.
“Leif, if you’re awake, they’ll take you,” she hisses, fear clutching her throat.
I wink at her before slamming my eyes closed just as the door swings open and cold air rushes in around us.
“Has the intruder woken up yet?” The voice is harsh.
“No,” she lies in a shaky voice. “He must have hit his head rather hard.”
The man grunts as he steps into the room. He closes the door behind him and the room is silent for several long moments. All I can hear is him practically snorting like a caged bull and her ragged, short breaths coming out quickly, like a cornered puppy.
“Your proximity to the man is disgusting, Willow. If only your father and the other elders could see. Perhaps I should inform them.”
She runs forward with a clomp of her boots. “No! Please, Jude. I’m only trying to heal him.”
He scoffs. “You don’t need to heal him. You need to wake him. Then, we’ll set to taking him to a trial to determine his fate. He’s diseased and I’ll have no future wife of mine becoming infected.”
Future wife?
I peek an eye open to see the man’s shoulders heaving with fury. If the motherfucker so much as touches one hair on her pretty little head, I’ll level his ass.
“Did the council say you are to be matched with me?” Her voice quivers in fear and part disbelief.
“If you’re not chosen by then, then it is I they have matched for you. Not your precious Jordy. I’d wanted to keep it a secret, but if you’re to be mine, you need to start behaving as if you belong to me.” His words drip with deception and the poor girl believes every word he says. “I know it is an honor to be chosen for the Circle of Corcoran but the council won’t do that to me again. Emily was also matched to me before she was chosen. They’ve promised to not make me wait five more years again.”
The name Emily was on one of the graves before I stepped into this fucking nightmare.
“Being chosen is the highest honor,” she clips out as if his words are blasphemous.
He growls and snatches both of her biceps. “You’re not getting chosen. A man can only wait so long to fulfill certain needs. It’s high time I’m allowed those needs.”
She gapes at him and confusion is written all over her face. “Jude, I don’t understand.”
The man yanks her to him and smashes his mouth to hers. I’m already sitting up, fighting the stars that dance in my vision as I attempt to stop the man from mauling her. Everything grows black so I lie back, only being privy to their voices.
“I ought to take you right now, Willow. It would ensure your place as my wife and you’d be out of the runnings for the ceremony,” he murmurs in a menacing tone. “I believe your body is tighter than my hand could ever squeeze. I bet with every thrust into you, your sex would milk my erection, much like I watch you milk your cow, Bertha. My seed would impregnate you the moment it coats your perfect body from the inside.”
She gasps and I itch to help her. “Jude, you are despicable. Leave my presence before I scream for my father and tell him everything.”
The man laughs coldly at her. “And believe some naïve child? They’ll blame Jordy for placing impure thoughts into that head of yours. I can assure you, wife, they will never believe you.”
I’m able to focus on them again as the darkness dribbles away. His stance is that of a lion about to devour his prey. But Willow is fierce and with a fury never before seen on her pretty face, she slaps him across the cheek. The room freezes for a moment and I realize this is the moment I’m going to have to heave myself out of this bed and kill him. I’m readying myself to do just that when the door flies open again.
“Willow. Jude.” The voice is tight and angry. “I heard a commotion and thought to check on things.”
Willow’s voice quivers. “Jordy, you shouldn’t be here. Alice is contagious. I can’t have you growing ill.”
Jude turns toward the man that isn’t much older than me. “Keep the impure thoughts out of her head or I’ll see to it that the council punishes you accordingly. She’s to be my wife and I won’t have you tainting her with your treasures you find from The Farrow.”
The two men standoff for a moment before Jude stomps out of the building. After a moment of silence, Jordy storms over to Willow and gathers her in his arms. I’m thankful he arrived to get the handsy motherfucker away from her.
“My beautiful ray of sunshine,” he murmurs into her hair. “It’s not true. We both know the matching happens the day after the ceremony. You’re safe from him until then.”
She sags in his arms and begins to cry. “I hate him!”
He strokes her hair and hugs her to him. “Hate is a strong word, Wil. You know our people frown upon feelings that cloud judgment and confuse a person.”
“I would rather die than marry him,” she tells him with a sniff of the air.
His eyes wash over her tearstained face in an adoring way that sends a pang of jealousy knifing its way through my chest.
“And I would die if you died. I love you and won’t let him take you from me. We’ll leave and take our chances in The Farrow if we must.”
I watch with disgust as his face descends upon hers and he brushes her lips with a soft kiss. She seems to melt in his arms and it ruins any chance of me seducing the girl into freeing me from this shithole.
“Love is a strong word too, Jordy,” she whispers after their kiss.
His thumbs swipe away her tears. “That’s why we should be matched. Our hearts beat stronger than any other two in this village. Without you, the green of the grass would be faded. The orange of the sunset would be dull. The chill of the winter winds would be colder. Despite what the council agrees upon, we both know in our hearts we belong together. I swear to you, Willow, that I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”