Eight

He turned me around and pulled me to the couch, the soles of my sneakers squeaking against the varnished floor. The men darted back from the adjoining room wearing shorts and nothing else. One guy flung a pair through the air and my captor caught it with one hand, then whirled me into the arms of a blond guy. He wasn’t as rough, but he showed no signs of letting me go, pulling me back on the couch and onto his lap. The guy who dragged me from the door put on his shorts and then went to join the others. 

They huddled together and muttered between them, “Why don’t you say something? You’re the eldest.” 

Two of them shoved the nominee forward — a strapping guy with dark hair, a cropped beard, and silvery grey eyes. He seemed like such a bad-tempered bastard, turning to snap at them like a rabid dog. But then he dragged his gaze to me and held it there as if he was contemplating what to say. 

“I’m Alex Bennett,” he introduced himself; his tone remained firm. “On behalf of me and my brothers, I can only apologize for our impulsive behavior. This was not how I intended our first meeting to go.” He dragged his gaze to my kidnapper, giving him a death glare to suggest this was all his fault. 

The second guy spoke next, running his fingers through his dark brown hair to rake out the snags and pieces of twig. His hazel eyes softened as he smiled, like he was trying to seem less threatening than his brother. “Hi, I’m Grayson, the better-looking brother,” he spoke modestly. “You might hate me right now, but you’ll thank me later.” 

Alex released an exasperated huff and dragged a hand down his face. He jerked his head to the guy with dark blonde hair and green eyes, prompting him to introduce himself to me. 

“Lucas,” he replied in the same raspy voice I remembered from the forest. I waited for more, but he was done talking. Something told me he was a man of few words, not one to let his guard down to those he didn’t trust.  

That only left my human armchair. I turned around to lock eyes with him, and my God, he was handsome. His bright blue eyes brimmed with kindness and had a face that could make angels weep. His hair was almost as light as mine, honey blond. 

“I’m Mason, and you must be Isobelle?” His voice was as smooth as melted chocolate and sounded just as sweet.

I bounced my shocked gaze between them. “How do you know my name?” I asked, removing my camera strap from around my neck. The chafed skin felt sore when I touched it, but that was the least of my problems.

“We'll explain everything,” Alex promised. “Just hear us out.”

“Here, let me get that,” Mason uttered as he untied the knot and pulled the gag from around my throat. 

“What the fuck do you want with me?” I asked, my voice strained with emotion. 

Crying made me feel weak, even though it shouldn’t. But that’s how I felt. I couldn’t fight them off, outrun them, or use tactics to trick them. They were holding me here against my will and I was powerless to do anything about it. 

“To get to know you,” Mason answered.

“If you wanted to know me, why didn’t you try talking to me? Ask for my number or invite me to dinner. Not kidnap me like a fucking psycho.” I glared at them all. 

Alex shot Grayson a mordacious glare. “That was the plan.”

Grayson cringed. “Can we maybe . . . start again?”

My jaw dropped with a mixture of shock and outrage.  

Alex glanced at the others for reassurance, then came to crouch beside me. He tried to take both my hands in his, but I pulled them back. 

“Don’t touch me,” I warned him. 

He sighed and dropped his gaze. “You’re ours, Isobelle, we’ve been waiting a lifetime for you.”

“What?” I wheezed, my mind flooding with panic.

“You belong to us,” Alex reinforced.

The others nodded their heads in agreement. “That’s right,” Mason spoke as he held me against him. “You are the one that we’ve been looking for.”

I couldn’t suck in enough oxygen to breathe. I hyperventilated, my body shaking, my mind whirling. What?! Me? Mason pulled me into a reverent embrace, hushing me as if to calm me down. And it was working. How can this stranger comfort me? I squeezed my eyes shut until I stopped shaking.

“Give her a minute, Alex,” Mason spoke in a hushed tone.

 Moments passed, but it felt like forever as I processed what they said. They were the four men in the woods, that much was clear. It wasn’t bullshit. The rumors were true. They existed. And they think I’m the one they’ve been waiting for. So, in a nutshell, they are never letting me go. I’ll be trapped here forever. 

Mason tapped me on the shoulder from behind. “Would you like a mug of tea, Isobelle?” he asked in a reverent tone. “You prefer tea, don’t you?”

Whipping my head around, I narrowed my eyes in a thunderous glare. They kidnapped me, and he dared to ask me if I wanted a brew . . . like this was a cozy little tea party in Covent Garden. Had he fallen over in the forest and bashed his skull? It inclined me to demand a jam and cream scone and some ham sandwiches to go with it, but I somehow doubted the hospitality would stretch that far.

“A cup of tea? Are you joking?” I asked, eyeing him disdainfully.

“Are you sure I couldn’t tempt you? I bet you’re parched.” Mason’s eyes sparkled with adoration.

I didn’t quite know what to make of this behavior. Mason seemed like a nice guy. But for all I knew, I could be gazing into the eyes of a psychopath. Accept a brew or decline the offer. I desperately needed a drink. That dirty rag had chaffed the corners of my lips raw.

“Fine . . . I’d love a cup of tea, thank you,” I replied, reluctantly accepting the offer. “I take it with a dash of milk and two sugars. You can leave out the poison.”

Alex snapped his head up in shock at my sudden change in mood, hurrying away, muttering that he would make the tea. The other two men, Lucas, and Grayson were standing a few feet away, watching me suspiciously. They dragged their eyes over my scantily clad body now that my nightdress had ridden halfway up my legs, exposing my thick thighs. I pulled down the material to give me an extra inch of modesty, but the elasticity made it spring back higher.

“Sit the fuck down. You’re making her nervous,” Mason berated his siblings — if they were his siblings. They could just be saying that.

Grayson huffed as though we had banished him to the other side of the room. He took a seat on a single armchair, brooding like a scolded puppy. Lucas backed away with a crooked smirk, not taking his eyes from mine. The crackling firelight illuminated his handsome features, and God strike me dead, but I couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed and rolled as he sat down. Lustful images swam into my head, and I shoved them away, hating the way my body reacted to them. This should not — could not — be happening. 

“Something smells good,” Lucas murmured, his voice nothing more than a dark rasp on the edge of breathlessness. I watched him fidget on the chair and pluck at the front of his shorts. 

“Are we turning you on, baby?” Grayson remarked amusedly. 

“Don’t call me baby. I’m not your baby, okay . . .” I snapped back at him, putting him straight. 

“Sexy, then,” he corrected himself.

Grayson shamelessly gawked at my breasts, and when I glanced down, I saw why — my nipples poked at my nightdress, leaving nothing to the imagination. Shame blasted through me and colored me red. They could see everything through the thin fabric . . . it was like they had x-ray vision that could melt it away. Not even my last partner had seen me naked in the cold light of day. Being rather curvy had made me body-conscious. A pretty face and a well-thought-out outfit could hide a multitude of sins. It didn’t warrant how these guys were staring at me as if I was their last meal on earth. No one had ever called me, “sexy,” before. As much as I had dabbled in the art of seduction, it just didn’t come naturally to me. But with these guys, I didn’t need to try. For some fucked-up reason, the universe had tossed together everything I ever fantasized about in men and presented me with four different flavors. And they were not asking me to pick one – they were a package deal. 

“You have the time it takes me to drink the tea to explain what the fuck you want with me,” I reasoned with them. “You wanted me to hear you out. I’m listening. So, start talking.”