Finally, after a few more minutes, Johnathan leaves and Andrew disappears into the kitchen before reappearing with a fresh beer. Picking Abigail’s backpack off the floor, he carries it over to me, and my muscles tense up as he drops it at my feet.

I half expect him to try to take a seat beside me but after a moment he turns away and walks over to a recliner. Dropping down into the recliner, I feel his dark eyes glaring at me as he leans back and drinks his beer.

Keeping my eyes focused forward, it’s everything I can do to keep from peeking over at him.

How do I get us out of this mess? How do I get us to safety?

Without my wallet, escape feels impossible. But there must be another way… there must be something I didn’t think of.

If I had access to my money, if I could make it to the bank, we wouldn’t even need to drive all the way to Canada. We’d only need to make it to the airport. We could hop on a plane and go anywhere…

But I would need our passports.

Fuck, getting away feels like an impossible feat.

Feeling Andrew’s eyes boring into me, I slowly turn my head to look at him. Jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, he stares at me with what looks like unabashed loathing.

I don’t know what I did to deserve to earn such hatred. He said he would protect us, but he must be thinking twice about it now.

“She asleep?” Andrew asks gruffly, yanking me out of my thoughts.

Glancing down, I see that Abigail has curled up beside me into a little ball.

She must have crashed from all the sugar Johnathan gave her.

Looking up at Andrew, I nod my head at him. He sets his bottle down and stands from the recliner. Walking over to us, I feel myself tensing up, not sure what he means to do.

He bends down and I pull back, retreating into the cushions of the couch.

His dark eyes lock on mine as if daring me to do something and then he picks up Abigail’s sleeping form.

My heart jumps into my throat and I immediately hate seeing her in his arms. Cradled in his hold, she looks so vulnerable, so fragile. I reach out but he takes a step back before I can grab her.

She doesn’t even realize the danger she’s in. Murmuring, she snuggles up to him and his arms tighten protectively around her.

“I can carry her…” I protest.

He completely ignores me.

“Follow me and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, turning away and walking off.

Jumping up from the couch, I grab her backpack and follow closely on his heels.

Every little anxious nerve in my body is sounding off. He said we were under his protection, but does that protection extend to him?

He leads me up a carpeted flight of stairs and down a short hall with four doors.

Stopping in front of the third door, he nods at me, expecting me to open it. Twisting the knob, I push the door open but don’t walk in until he does.

He carries Abigail into the room and heads for the big bed taking up the middle. I watch with my heart in my throat as he gently lowers her down.

Straightening from the bed, he stares down at her for a moment before turning to me.

I don’t know why but there’s this sudden tension between us. His face hardens and somehow, he looks even angrier than before.

A shiver runs down my spine as he stares me down.

He takes a step toward me and I bring up Abigail’s backpack, using it as a shield.

For the first time tonight I watch his face soften and his lips curve into a smile.

“Goodnight, Amy. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, brushing past me and walking out the door.

I expel a breath I didn’t realize I was holding then quickly close the door behind him. Pushing in the lock, I finally feel like I can relax a little.

Getting my pulse back under control, I turn around and take in the room. A king-sized bed takes up most of the middle, flanked by two nightstands. The headboard of the bed is pushed up against the right wall, while a tall, cherry wardrobe is up against the left wall. Against the back wall is the only window.

I walk up to the window and yank open the curtains then try the window. It opens easily and I slide up the screen to poke my head out.

The street is quiet. The occasional cold gust of wind rattling the naked trees is the only sound.

Looking down, my heart sinks as I realize it’s too high of a drop for Abigail. I might be able to survive it but there’s absolutely nothing to break our fall. The side of the house is made up of smooth beige siding. There’s nothing for us to use for climbing down.

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