Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,54

back at the water, but I caught the blush on his face.

I ate some more fruit and the rest of the bread before finishing the juice he’d brought me. Everything tasted so good, probably because I knew it was safe. If they’d wanted to drug me, they could’ve already done it.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Maybe noon.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Time isn’t relevant here.”

I wiped my mouth with the napkin, studying him. “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

“A little over a year, judging by how many times the crew comes to restock us and clean,” he told me. “We’ve all been here a while. Rory was the last to show up, about seven months ago.”

No clocks. No calendars. No connection to the life outside. The only way to count the months was to count the resupplies.

It was like constantly waiting for something you weren’t sure would ever happen, much less when.

“You don’t seem like you should be here,” I told him.

He scooped some bath salts into the tub and pulled a towel and washcloth over from the nearby table.

With Stalinz Moreau as a father, I thought Micah would be different.

He stared at the water. “My father hasn’t been seen in public in nine years,” he explained. “He lives on a yacht that’s constantly moving from port to port, and the only way my five brothers and sister can see him is when we take a helicopter to follow whatever coordinates he sends us.”

I’d heard that somewhere. It was actually pretty smart. When you supplied weapons to terrorists and competing factions in third-world countries, upsetting the “consistency” of the tyranny already in power, many people would want you dead.

“People think wealth means choice and freedom,” he continued. “But oh, how I envied those filthy, barefoot kids running around some of the worst neighborhoods I drove through growing up.” He looked up at me, finally. “It’s nice not starving, but I don’t want to live like he does. I don’t want power. I don’t give a shit about money. I’ve had it, and now I’d just rather have peace of mind.”

I approached him. “So you’re the black sheep?”

He flashed a sad smile. “‘Who needs to learn a lesson about family loyalty and not being a pussy,’” he recited his father’s words, no doubt.

So we were all stuck here. Maybe I wasn’t so alone then.

Keeping my bottoms and top on, I stepped into the tub, the hot water instantly spreading amazing, glorious chills all over my body.

He smiled at my attempt at modesty by keeping my clothes on, but I really just wasn’t ready for him to leave.

I sat down, letting my eyes fall closed at how good the water felt. Taking the bait, he tipped my head back and water poured over my scalp, wetting my hair as he filled the cup and did it again and again.

I opened my eyes, looking at the mirror across the room as water cascaded down my back, over my chest, and soaked my tank top.

“What happens when the resupply team shows up?” I broached.

“They resupply.”

Yeah, duh.

“You know what I mean,” I told him.

If I were stuck here for the time being, I’d use that time wisely. I needed to map the house, explore the land, and start stocking food, water, and maybe another weapon.

Micah held up his wrist, showing me his bronze-colored bracelet.

I studied it, just realizing they all wore one. It hadn’t struck me yesterday, but now that I was seeing it, I remembered they all had one on.

“It tracks us,” he said. “And it doesn’t come off. Believe me, we all try.”

I didn’t have one, though.

“It vibrates when the team is coming,” he explains. “Security arrives first, and if we’re in our rooms like good little boys, they simply flip a lock to keep us secure. If we’re not, then they’ll find us and lock us in our rooms themselves. When the doors open again, they’re gone, the fridge is stocked, the toilets are clean, our wardrobe is replenished, and every piece of furniture is shining. Almost like we get a do-over every month.”

“A whole new chance to not break, spill, or bleed all over the floors again, huh?”

He snorted. “Yeah.”

“Can you talk to them when they arrive?”

“We can try.” He removed the now-soaked bandage on my arm. “But ultimately, the ones in charge aren’t the ones we see. The team is just doing a job.”

He soaped up a washcloth and gently cleaned off the blood on my arm.

“And