“Roslyn,” she said with a brave smile.
Justin just stared at her, setting off every f**king alarm inside Nick’s head. He should have taken her straight to Blackstone. He shouldn’t have f**ked around and delayed. She’d have been safe then. The chances of these two letting her get away without blood being shed were non-existent. But that was okay. He was more than happy to kill them for her. Shits like this didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. He just had to pick the time right, give her the best chance possible.
“Nice to meet you both,” she said chirpily. Her smile didn’t slip till the end.
Nick slung an arm around her shoulders, pulled her closer. Thankfully, she came, tucking herself in against him. “There’s a stack of food and stuff here.”
“Excellent,” said Pete. “We’ve got a case of rum.”
Nick smiled. “Let’s party.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Roslyn concentrated on the flames dancing in the fireplace. Let them lull her, distract her from the conversation and the moaning outside. Both were bad. Both sickened her and scared her witless.
They’d picked a squat brick building to hole up in for the night, on account of the tall wire fence that surrounded the property. A collection of broken-down cars filled the front yard. Bodies had been found in a back bedroom. Justin had dragged them outside, poured petrol over them and lit them up, then asked her if she wanted to toast some marshmallows. The creep wasn’t half as funny as he thought he was. He watched her constantly. Her skin felt ready to crawl right off her and slink away somewhere safe.
Pete, on the other hand, took dickhead depravity to new heights. Every second word out of his mouth was a smutty pun. The one saving grace was that he seemed to think she wasn’t bright enough to realize. She tried not to jump every time one of the idiots accidentally brushed up against her in passing.
Meanwhile, Nick did nothing but dart her glances.
Nothing but throw back rum and laugh at their sordid jokes. Swap stories of the good old days. Tricks they’d played. Lies they’d told. Women they’d screwed. Even people they’d killed. She didn’t know him as well as she thought she did. But how well could you get to know someone in the space of a week, special circumstances or no? Every time he opened his mouth it got worse. He kept stealing looks at her and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes any longer. They bitched about some place called Blackstone. The name came up time and again. That and someone called Emmet. Apparently his death was much lamented by good old Justin and Pete.
He’d said to trust him. She wasn’t sure she could do that without putting her hands over her ears and going la-la-la for the rest of the night. Maybe if she tried really hard she could block them out. Yes, she could ignore them. And she could keep doing it right up until someone said his name. Right up until she heard his voice. Then she couldn’t help but take in every last horrible, sordid detail.
“What about that chick in Perth.” Pete’s voice was a slimy sound that slid right through her and out the other side. He bounced a bone handled knife in his hand, waving the tip in her general direction. “The one you and Jonesy did.”
Nick gave a broad smile. “Good times.”
Fuck him and his ever-ready cock.
“Yeah. And there were those two in Darwin who took a liking to you.” Pete snuck her a dark look while Nick chuckled and sipped his drink. He never did it when Nick was looking. It gave her hope. At least they were still cautious of him, for now.
A half smile curled Pete’s lips as he threw the knife up in the air and caught it, over and over. Light from the fire flickered on the sharp edge of the blade. He sure was handy with the weapon. Justin asked Nick a question. She didn’t hear what it was. The blade kept moving, mesmerizing her. It never stopped. She could almost feel the promise of the blade against her skin. Holding back the urge to bolt was hard. Her legs tensed, her back and shoulders, her everything. God, she wanted out of there so damn bad.
Pete gave her another look, promising all sorts of violence and pain. Not just her imagination. Her lungs were working hard, but she could hardly breathe.
“Nick, how about when you shot that bloody whingeing corporal?” Pete put down his knife and started rolling the biggest joint she’d ever seen in her life. The smell of mull outdid the combined smell of their unwashed bodies. Pete and Justin weren’t big on deodorant, apparently. “You remember, just before they leveled the hospital. Can’t say that didn’t feel good.”
“That bastard,” said the man she might have been in love with but sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near just then. “Nah, that felt fan-fucking-tastic.”
Cue much guffawing and description of brain splatter. Ah, but they were witty tools. She kept her face calm, slack and made a list in her head of her favorite books, in alphabetical order by author surname. When Nick shot her a look she ignored him. Atwood, Austen, Bronte, Byatt … who else?
Justin smirked. “If I had to hear about his poor wife and kids back home one more time I was going to do it myself.”
Nick was just playing a part. She had to trust him. He didn’t mean it. They were going to get out of this and all would be awesome. It would.
She sat beside him on a battered old yellow lounge, his big hand curved over her knee. The army rations from dinner churned in her belly. If she could make it through the night without puking, she’d be doing well. Everything about this nauseated her. Evil emanated off these two as badly as their BO. Only Nick’s presence held them back for now, but that wouldn’t last. Pete and Justin had taken him aside for a word earlier. She didn’t even want to know what had been said. Well, she did, but she didn’t. Lecherous Neil from school looked like child’s play compared to these two. The air of menace in the dingy little lounge room was as palpable as the heat from the blazing fire, singeing the ceiling.
Her gun stayed tucked in her belt. Her back ached where it dug into her spine, but no way would she remove it.
“Time for bed, hey?” Nick gave her knee a squeeze and stood.
“What, already?” Pete said, then leered at her with a grin a hundred dentists couldn’t have helped. “Can’t say I blame ya.”
“See you in the morning, boys.” Nick winked and led her toward one of the bedrooms. The one furthest from where the bodies had been found.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Justin croaked around a cloud of smoke and passed the joint back his friend.