Make You Mine by K.T. Quinn

31

Charlotte

Terror gripped my chest as I watched the bikes turn, one by one, down the driveway toward me.

I slid the barn door closed. Instead of a traditional lock, there was a latch bar that fell into place, but after a moment I pulled it back up. Locking the door from the inside would just let them know someone was here.

Barriers wouldn’t save me, but stealth might.

I grabbed my damp clothes off the door and looked for a place to hide. The loft area above the bathroom seemed best, so I climbed the ladder with my clothes under one arm and then tossed them the rest of the way on top before peeking over the edge. The loft was filled with old boxes I could hide behind. I pulled myself the rest of the way onto the loft, but I was careless in my hurried state and knocked my bra off the edge. It landed on the ground, pink and damp and most certainly not belonging to Jayce.

The bikes rumbled to a stop outside the barn, their engines louder than the rain pelting the roof. If they saw my bra, they would know for certain that Jayce and I were closer than we let on. It would ruin everything.

I left my other clothes in the loft and climbed back down. Bra in hand, I was too panicked to return to the loft, so I ran into the closet next to the bed. I shifted the big laundry bag and crouched down behind it, and prayed the Copperheads weren’t here to steal Jayce’s clothes.

The barn door rolled open and the bikers strode inside.

From the closet I had a sliver of view: I could see the bedroom area, the door to the bathroom, and the area in front of the door. One Copperhead strode into view, followed by another. Their boots sounded hollow and heavy on the laminate floor, echoing with danger. Sid was right behind the first two men, pulling back a rain hood and shaking out his greasy dreadlocks. I felt my stomach turn at the sight of him.

“He’s probably not here,” one of the men behind Sid said. “Truck’s gone.”

Sid smiled as he looked around the room. “Check anyways.”

My stomach sank as I realized something: they thought Jayce had stolen from them. Sid was probably going to turn his entire barn upside-down to look for the drug money! I was a dead woman if they spent even a few minutes searching.

I reached for my phone automatically before remembering that I was only wearing a towel. Another pang of dread struck me. Where had I left my phone? I’d been talking to Momma, and when I hung up I put my phone down… Not on the bedside table. I was certain of that. Maybe I had left it on the bed?

Boots echoed as the men moved around the barn. One of them crouched to check under the bed, like an adult appeasing a child by searching for monsters. Another man went into the bathroom, and then came right back out.

“Shower’s wet. We must’ve just missed him.”

“Where would he go this time of night?” another Copperhead asked.

“Fuck if I know.”

Sid came into sight, an amused grin on his face. “The cemetery. Crying over his poor baby sister.” He made his mouth into a mocking pout as he said it, and the men around him roared with laughter.

“Bathroom smells fruity,” the first Copperhead said. “Feminine.”

I tensed as Sid disappeared into the bathroom. He came out a minute later holding the half-empty bottle of shampoo. “You know Jayce. Always primping his hair.” He abruptly hurled the bottle across the room. It smashed against the wall, leaving a smear of Mauve-colored goop.

Another Copperhead stepped in front of the closet. I made myself as small as possible as he shoved a few shirts to the side, but then he turned away without looking any harder.

I was relieved, until he walked across the room and began climbing the ladder into the loft.

My clothes.

I wondered how hard of a look he would take. Would he examine the wet clothes long enough to tell they were a woman’s, or would he be more concerned with looking for Jayce behind the boxes? My panties were underneath the jeans, I thought. But I wasn’t certain.

“Hey. It’s me,” Sid said, holding a phone to his ear while pacing the room. “Nope, he’s not here. You checked Flop’s? Yeah, I figured. All right, make a pass at the cemetery. No, don’t do anything. Just call me if you find him.”

The Copperhead climbed the rungs to the loft slowly, nearing the top. From my closet vantage I could only see his feet. He picked one up to climb another rung…

“Fuck this shit,” Sid announced impatiently. “Let’s go look at his bike.”

Alone in the closet, I trembled with fear—and relief—as the Copperheads went back out into the rain.