my name, my age, if I’m married or not. I don’t know why I felt so compelled to come here, only that I did. Just over a week ago I woke up in a forest much like this. I’ve been staying at a B&B maybe ten miles away then had the urge to come to Butterford, to come here, specifically. I can’t explain it any better than that,” I say in a heated rush.
“Are you injured?” Mathieson suddenly asks, getting up and striding towards me.
“I d—don’t think so,” I stammer, as he steps in front of Franklin and grabs my face in his palms, pulling down my lower eyelids with his thumbs checking my eyes… for what, I don’t know. His fingers move up over my skin and into my hair, checking my scalp, then work their way down the back of my neck feeling my spine. Instead of flinching from his touch, for some reason, I lean into the surety of his fingers, the warmth.
“Mathieson, I already checked her over. She’s good,” Franklin says gruffly.
“You have?” I ask as Mathieson steps back once more, frowning.
“Yes. When you find a woman passed out on your bed, completely unresponsive, then the first thing you do is check her over.”
“Are you a doctor or something?” I ask, knowing that he can’t be, but finding it odd that he’d even know what to look for given he carves statues out of wood for a living.
“No, but we were all in the Marine Corps. Basic medical training is a must.”
“I see.”
“So you have no recollection of who you are, at all? There’s absolutely nothing you remember?” Franklin persists, looking at me carefully.
“That’s right. Nothing,” I lie, keeping hidden the fact that I remembered the sound of his voice and have this weird bubbling attraction mixed up with all the fear. Both the fear and the attraction is familiar, only compounding my certainty that these men know me.
“Aside from the cab driver, did you speak to anyone else in the village?” Franklin asks. His shoulders are tense, his jaw tight. Do they mean to keep me prisoner, is that it? Is that why he’s freaking out over who knew about me coming here? He wants to silence them so they can keep me in their basement as some kind of sex slave.
“I did. Why?” The tremble in my voice betrays my fear and the sinking feeling that terrible things are going to happen to me and the two people who know I came here.
“Who?” he demands, ignoring my question. He shifts closer and there’s a glint in his eye that I don’t like, a darkness glittering within his hazel orbs.
“A waitress in Fairy Tale and Wine, I don’t remember her name...” I lie. “I ordered food from there…” My voice trails off as I see the look exchanged between the three men. Mathieson nods once, then strides off. “Wait!” I say, causing Mathieson to pause, his foot hovering over the bottom step. “She’s just a kid. Don’t hurt her.”
“What makes you think I’m going to hurt her?” he asks, cocking his head to the side, as he settles his foot on the bottom step of the stairs. His voice is incredulous, but his grip on the banister is so tight, thick veins are popping beneath his skin from the pressure.
“Aren’t you?” My throat dries out.
“No,” he shakes his head, his fingers flexing. I see him visibly relax, but it’s too forced, only heightening my fear further. “I’m just going to get you something to eat. I figured you must be hungry after sleeping for twenty-four hours straight.”
“What?” I snap, looking between Franklin and Berrin as Mathieson climbs the stairs leaving them to answer me. “What does he mean I’ve been asleep for twenty-four hours?”
“Exactly that. We’ve been looking out for you,” Berrin responds from his spot in the corner of the room. He pushes off the wall, his gaze tracking over my face as he approaches.
“Looking out for me? When I awoke before you didn’t seem so concerned with my well-being.” I scoff, unable to help myself.
“What are you talking about?” Berrin looks genuinely confused, his brows drawing together in a frown as he glances over at Franklin.
“Do exactly what we say, and we’ll make this pleasurable for you. Defy us and you’ll be punished… severely. That’s what he said to me in the dark, in this room when I was awake before,” I accuse angrily, pointing a finger at Franklin.
“What the fuck?!” Berrin snaps,