Chapter 38
The abandoned shearing shed was pitch black and freezing. Rain was coming steadily in through the roof and the old wooden floor was rotting in so many places that Tess was amazed it held her enormous weight at all.
Her captor sat in the driest corner of the shed, eating a sloppy hamburger. ‘Want some?’ he asked. ‘You’ve only had half a potato cake. Aren’t you supposed to be eating for two?’
Tessa shook her head. She’d once let Liam talk her into buying dinner from Nalongest Yard Fish and Chippery. Their burgers were even cheesier than their name. The Ashbrees must have had their own brand of superpowers to survive them. No way was she going to risk her son’s life for one, but at least the offer of dinner meant she no longer had her mouth taped shut.
‘Why don’t you just call Bane again and tell him where we are? You keep saying you want him to find us.’
‘Sure, just not with a police escort,’ he said, downing the last bite and then licking sauce from his wrist. ‘They traced my call this morning. That’s why we had to move again. And of course I had to ditch the phone too, so I can’t listen in on their radio traffic anymore, let alone call anyone. Hey, I suggest you don’t go having any … medical emergencies. We’re not exactly close to a hospital here.’
As if she had any control over it. He was such an idiot. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to get abducted by such a loser. It was embarrassing. If it hadn’t been for the baby she would have long since shown him what a Guardian could do.
They had only spent a couple of hours in his house on the outskirts of Nalong before he’d chickened out and moved her yet again. In such a small town news always travelled fast, and everyone knew who she was. It would only have taken one person to look through the right window at the right time. Shame. She had nearly managed to make him yell at her. Someone might have noticed that because she never remembered him as being the yelling type before.
Given that there was no furniture, she tried to make herself as comfortable as possible on the floor as he taped her hands around one of the roof supports. The pole was old but looked sturdy enough. Even so, she tried not to move too much in case she brought the entire roof down on their heads. Idiotic man. She was so tired and angry, and tired of being angry. Her back hurt, her feet hurt, her ribs hurt, her clothes were wet and she needed to pee, again. He hadn’t believed she needed to pee so often but the consequences of having a close to term infant using her bladder as a trampoline spoke for itself. She loathed him.
Beset by violent shivers, she huddled against the post. He had given her an old parker to wear that smelled like the couch in the foyer of the Nalong pub, and was about as useful for keeping her warm. Nausea that had nothing to do with Noah still stopped her from eating more than a couple of mouthfuls of the crap she’d been offered throughout the day, and so she kept getting dizzy. She needed to sleep but was far too uncomfortable, so instead she began to hum a tune in her head. Perhaps if she couldn’t sleep she could at least try to help the baby to relax. Stress was bad for him. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to become lost in the beautiful song that Dallmin and Lainie had gifted them with. A sweet melody, birthed in a place that she could almost taste. The Garden Paradise. Real. As real to her as Noah’s kisses. A place that was not for her. Not for humans tainted with self-centred greed, violence and fear. Her fear—this terror of what was happening to her, to her son—was like a wound that she could feel festering and tangling with other polluted emotions. Shame, for allowing it to happen, because she was supposed to keep Noah and their baby safe. Anger, hate and even greed that valued her own life above that of the bastard who was hurting her.
No. She was not ready for that place. Not yet. Still, just knowing it was there … right on the doorstep. Waiting for her. So real. The echo of it playing in her memory with such beautiful harmonies.