Squeezing my eyes shut, I drew in another deep breath. Then I quickly unlocked the four bolts of the door and turned the knob. After an internal count of three, I swallowed my fear and wrenched open the door, only to let out a deafening shriek as I stumbled in shock, my back hitting the wall, knocking the breath from my lungs.
Sitting on a chair in the narrow hallway directly opposite our apartment door was the tattooed heathen, Flame. I knew he sat there all day, every day. I had spied on him through the peephole in the door. I did not know if he was out there to make sure we did not try to flee, like we were prisoners in this place, or whether he was there to guard us. Very rarely did he leave his post.
Flame’s deep black eyes were focused on a long, silver blade in his hand… a blade that was slicing at the heavily scarred skin on the underside of his forearm. He was panting excitedly, his tongue licking at his lips, and underneath his pants, his manhood stood erect, straining the material to breaking point.
Unable to contain it anymore, a scared whimper escaped my lips. Flame pulled his attention off the knife, his disturbed gaze boring into mine. A snarl ripped from his lips on being interrupted, and I cowered back in fear.
As the knife clattered to the floor, Flame jumped to his feet, every muscle tense and strained. The creak of a floorboard sounded behind me as I tried to blend myself into the door. His attention snapped in that direction.
Slowly exhaling through his nostrils, Flame’s fists clenched at his sides, the blood from his cut arm slowly pooling on the floor. I followed the track of his attention, which led me to Maddie, who was equally focused on Flame. She was now sitting on the edge of her bed, green eyes rapt. As calm as could be, her glance angled down to the pooling blood; she swallowed hard.
Moving as slowly as possible, I got to my feet. Flame noticed the movement. His breathing became heavy as his wild onyx eyes darted between Maddie and me.
“Go downstairs, Lilah. Do what you were going to do,” Maddie instructed softly. “It will calm you if we can get some sleep.”
I sputtered a cough. “I shall not leave you alone with him. Have you lost your mind? He looks ready to kill someone!”
Maddie’s shoulders relaxed and she glanced my way. “Flame will not hurt me, of that I am sure.” She met his gaze again and blushed. “In fact, Flame is the one and only man with whom I feel safe.”
I twisted my head around to look at Flame, trying hard to see the trust in him that Maddie so clearly did. He was dressed all in black, leather pants, black tight shirt, and that leather vest they all wore. He had guns and knives strapped to his chest and he sported tattoos from head to toe. He had a beard and unkempt hair.
I swayed on my feet with tiredness.
“Lilah. Go! Before you collapse with fatigue,” Maddie ordered, and she sat down again on the bed, resuming her gazing out of the window. Flame slumped against the wall until he was sitting on the floor just shy of the doorway. He selected a new knife and, without taking his attention off Maddie, resumed cutting his forearm.
Another raucous gunshot boomed from downstairs, this time shaking the light fixture in the hallway. Maddie remained quiet on the bed, lost in her thoughts. Flame was lost in his bloodletting, which left me to challenge the behavior of the animals downstairs.
Cautiously skirting past Flame, I walked down the stairwell to the hallway, which led to the clubhouse. With every step, the noise increased, and I winced as the heavy music shook the wooden walls. I had never felt such anger in all my life, such desperation for sleep.