5
Rayne opened her eyes, expecting to see the young guy standing in front of her, the smile on his face, hand reaching for her. Instinctively she tried to jerk back, but couldn't do it. Yes...that other guy, the biker...behind her...shit...
She...rolled? Wait. Rayne blinked a few times, looking around in confusion. She had been on the porch. The two guys were talking. Now she was laying in the middle of a huge bed, alone. She looked down the length of her body. And sighed in relief. Ok, still fully dressed. That was good.
She sat up, a little shaky. The few beers coupled with the carsickness followed by all the worry, yeah, she was shaky all right. Her eyes swept the room. The bed was covered with a soft black comforter. The floor was polished oak. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a table, situated near a huge window on the far wall. And on that table...a telephone. She blinked again. Shit. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? What kind of morons would kidnap a person then shut them in a room with a telephone?
Speaking of phones...she checked the front pocket of her jeans and sighed in relief for the second time in as many minutes. Her cell phone. She hated the damn thing, but never left the house without it. The gadget might actually come in handy for once.
She didn't dig it out just yet though. House phone first. If these two guys didn't know she had the cell yet, she wasn't going to use it until it was absolutely necessary. Moving slow, making as little noise as possible, she edged off of the bed and stood, listening to the quiet house. She shuffled forward, grimacing every time a board creaked under her weight. Damn old houses. Why couldn't guys who kidnapped people ever hide out in buildings made entirely of concrete? Nice, sound absorbing, non-settling concrete.
She stopped in mid thought, in mid step. And looked out the window. She'd been on the porch, it was still mostly dark with just a glimmer of dawn on the horizon. She could see through the window, see the blue sky, the high summer clouds. It looked to be at least lunchtime. Possibly later. She'd lost half of her day...sleeping. Whatever it was she had been doing.
Making herself go forward, Rayne shoved all thoughts aside. She made it to the table, and put her hand on the phone, but did not pick it up. She already knew it wouldn't work. Wasn't that how this shit always went?
"Oh...it works just fine," an amused voice said from behind her. Rayne uttered a shriek and whirled around, knocking the phone off the table. Young clean-cut guy stood there, grinning sheepishly. She had been so intent on not making any noise that she had neglected to hear him opening the door to the room.
He came forward and she immediately backed away. She did not want him touching her again. Isn't that what had happened? He'd done something and the next thing she knew it was after noon. He did not come toward her though. He stooped and picked up the phone, putting it back on the table.
"Don't worry. I'm tapped out at the moment. I'm not going to hurt you."
Rayne jumped a bit. It seemed as if he were reading her mind. Freaky.
"Yes I am, and yes...it is kinda freaky til you get used to it," Again the boyish grin. "You're probably hungry. Thirsty? I ran to the store..." He trailed off and glanced around the room. "Probably shouldn't have left, but had to. Just for a little while. Mark is sleeping. He'll want to talk to you when he gets up."
"Mark?" Rayne tried the name.
"The one who brought you here."
"Oh. Biker asshole guy."
The young one laughed. "Umm, yeah. But if I was you I wouldn't...you know...say that to his face."
"Who are you people?" She asked, not expecting an answer. At least, not an answer she'd like.
"I'm Randy," His smile faded a bit. "I think I should leave the explanations to Mark. He's running the show."
"What show?" She shoved her hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face. "I'm sorry, really I am, I've had one hellacious night, can't think straight." She turned, looking out the window. "Shit. I actually thought I heard you say you were reading my mind! How crazy is that?"
"I did say that." Randy shrugged. "It's just something that happens."
'Really?' Rayne thought to herself.
"Yeah, really," Randy answered out loud with a laugh as she stiffened in surprise.
'That was an easy one.'
"It's all easy. I've been practicing for a long time."
"Ok. Stop it, you're freaking me out," Rayne spoke out loud this time. She didn't like the idea of some strange guy knowing her thoughts all the time.
"Sometimes I can't help it." Randy shrugged. "I can tone it down if it really bothers you that much. I do it without thinking about it sometimes. I forget that hu...uh, well...I just forget that not everybody can do it."
Rayne looked over her shoulder at him. He had been about to say something...she wondered what it was. If he was reading her thoughts now he didn't show it. He went to the bed and straightened the pillows, then gestured toward the door. "Come on. We'll have something to eat, you can relax for a little while. And everything will be explained. At least...I think it will be."
What choice did she have? Even though Randy wasn't as big as his friend Mark, he was still head and shoulders over Rayne. Although he didn't bully her like his buddy did; which was probably why she only felt resentment toward the other man. This one just seemed too...easy going. Nice. Downright friendly. Or maybe she was just losing her mind. That made sense. More sense than any of this was making.
"Uh..." before she left, she glanced around. Her eyes fell on the huge bed. "Where is your friend right now?"
"Resting. Sleeping." Randy shrugged. He had already exited through the doorway; he stood waiting for her.
"Where?" She met his eyes. "This is your room right? I mean, this house is huge...where is he at?" She did not know why that was suddenly so important.
"Uh...no it's not my room. It's Mark's."
"Oh." She'd actually been in his bed. Holy shit. "And where is he?"
Randy looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "In the bed. In his bed. Where else would he be sleeping?"
"But you just said..." She glanced over her shoulder, the words dying on her lips. The big biker guy was in the bed. Sleeping. Under the comforter, one arm thrown over his eyes to block out the sunlight that filtered in the window. He'd stripped his shirt off, baring his chest, shoulders, upper arms. "He wasn't there a minute ago."
"Sure he was," Randy said, sounding amused. "Said he wasn't going to put himself out just to give up his bed to you. Then he went and climbed in. End of story."
"No...I mean...he literally wasn't there," She was staring at Mark. Could not take her eyes from him, lest he disappear again.
"Oh. That." Randy said it dismissively. "Possibly astral projection. Or maybe he just didn't want you to see him so he...uh...blended in. So you wouldn't freak out. Like you're thinking about doing right now."
"Who the fuck are you people?" Rayne asked, giving up. She had been alone damn it. Alone in the gigantic bed. The big man had not been sleeping in there when she'd opened her eyes. She'd have been on top of him practically. She repressed the shudder that threatened to work its way down her back.
"Who said we were any kind of people?" Randy asked thoughtfully before moving toward the stairs. Rayne followed, casting glances back over her shoulder every few steps. She knew without a doubt that she couldn't trust either of these two guys. Too much weird shit had happened already. Way too much.