Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
I leaned close to Nyla and murmured in her ear. “You’re fine. Just take a deep breath.”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to cause problems.”
“You’re not.” I let my hand find her shoulder and squeeze before putting it on the back of the wicker loveseat.
She looked up at me with wide, sad eyes. “Yes, I am. I’m a complication you guys don’t need.”
“Be that as it may,” Sting interrupted, “you’re staying here. At least for a day. Wylde and Cyrus will figure out what’s going on with Milo Hutch. You’ll get some rest and food. The old ladies will see to it you have some necessities, and you can have some peace and quiet.”
“So, I’m a prisoner?”
Sting winced. “I prefer to think of it as us protecting you. Do you know how long Milo intended for you to stay with those two?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I never thought I’d be there as long as I was.”
“Right. So if he comes looking for you, do you really want to be on your own? It sounds like you have a healthy fear of him already. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have some protection between you and him.”
“Yeah.” Nyla spoke softly. “I guess you’re right.”
“Eagle, can you take her back to her room and help her get settled? I’m sure she needs more to drink and something to eat.” Sting raised an eyebrow at me. It was busy work, but he likely saw my interest in the girl. From the moment I caught her as she stumbled and fell, my protective instincts had been on overdrive. I supposed it was as good as anything else to keep me occupied and out of my head. Away from the violence I’d just come back from, even though it sounded like Nyla had come from a similar situation. Mars wasn’t the only one with demons.
“I can. Also need to talk to you. ‘Cause I think I have an idea who Dom and Claw are.”
“Grim Road?” Sting raised an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah. They were with me on that last run. I’m guessing the conversation she overheard came in the middle of that operation. Either way, they’ll have more info on Milo and his whereabouts.”
“Also might explain why Milo chose to drop her here. Is it possible he meant to scout out Grim Road?”
“Possible, but I got no clue. Above my pay grade.” I stood, extending my hand to Nyla. She looked at it for a long moment before sighing and placing her own small hand in mine. “Come on, girl. You need a proper bath and rest. I’ll get you some food. Shoulda already eaten.”
She went with me without protest as the conversation among the others continued. When we got back to the room she’d been assigned, I opened the door and let her proceed ahead of me. Instead of leaving, however, I intended to make sure she was taken care of.
“Go,” I said. “Take you a shower, then I’ll help you with your hair. It looks like a rat’s nest.”
Nyla nodded, her face flushing. “I’m not used to this. I was always supposed to be perfectly put together.”
“No one can be perfect all the time.” I tried to say the right thing, but I had no idea what the right thing was.
“You can if it’s life or death.” With that, she slid into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
* * *
Nyla
There was no way I was going to survive here. It wasn’t that I thought these people were going to hurt me or force me into a situation I didn’t want, but rather that I might fall back into the role I’d been doing since I was a young teen. The short time I’d been here, interacting with the group, I could see similarities between the Iron Tzars and Milo’s men. They were all hardened warriors. It was in every line of their bodies. The way they moved, watched their surroundings, listened to every single word that was said. It was second nature to them. I’d run away on instinct instead of thinking things all the way through. Pain and fear made me desperate. I needed to start thinking differently. Make a plan and stick to it.
I took my time, giving myself a thorough scrubbing and grooming. Underarms, legs, and privates all got a razor while I used the washcloth to scrub under my nails. My hair was a complete rat’s nest. I was afraid the only way to get all the knots out would be to cut it. Of all the things to worry about, though, my hair should be the least, yet I couldn’t help it. The need to look appealing was ingrained in me. It’s what kept me alive.
Again, I exited the shower, much calmer this time. And more refreshed. My stomach was still knotted up, but I suspected that was as much from hunger as it was stress. My captors had fed me, but it had been mostly scraps and usually only once a day. Sometimes not even that. Most of all, I needed sleep.