The walk back to the main level of the house is a blur. I can’t seem to force the horrific sound of saw grinding through bone out of my head. It haunts me the entire way back into the kitchen where the same man from last night is now seated with the heavily tattooed one I’d walked past before. Their eyes follow me as I walk in, but I don’t dare make contact with either of them this time. They say nothing as I’m ushered around the table and stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

Elias opens the refrigerator to show me what food is available, closes it, then walks a few steps over to the cupboards. Basically giving me a silent tour of the kitchen. For three large men living here, there’s hardly any food around. What is here is enough for maybe one or two people, which I find strange. As much as I’d like to ask, I’m still too shaken up to speak.

My body vibrates with lingering adrenaline and my heart pounds rapidly in my chest. Should I cook for everyone, or only myself? I’m so used to being the homemaker. What do they expect from me? Too afraid to ask or even move, I stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen. With the way the atmosphere feels in the room, I almost wonder if I’m whats for dinner tonight. My skin prickles with another wave of fear and I squint my eyes shut, praying that when I open my eyes again this will all just be a dream. I should’ve taken my chances back at home…

A heavy hand rests on my shoulder, frightening me and I jump. Elias looks down at me through his mask, eyes unreadable. I so badly want to shimmy away from his touch, especially after catching a glimpse of the rust colored stains burned into his skin, but my feet remain cemented to the floor. Finally he signs, “This room is all yours.”

The other two men keep their eyes on me, never speaking or even offering to introduce themselves. I feel my presence here is unwanted and based off of the evil glare I’m getting from the man I saw last night, I must stink or something. I shrink down, doing my best to ignore how uncomfortable I am but it's impossible. A single tear spills over my cheek but I quickly wipe it before anyone can see.

“So we’re all just going to ignore how fucked up this is?” The man from last night finally chimes, breaking the silence and making me feel worse somehow.

“Micah, please.” The tattooed man seated next to him shakes his head before resting it in his hands. He sounds irritated, like they’ve already discussed this.

“It's like tossing a newborn lamb into a pack of wolves!” Micah shouts, slamming his fists on the table and rattling the bowl of fake fruit positioned in the middle. I’m unsure what he means by this but he couldn't speak further from the truth- because that is exactly how I feel right now.

“Enough!” The man shouts over Micah. I jolt from the volume of his voice, never quite getting over my fear of yelling. Elias stands completely still, never moving from his close proximity to me like he’s used to this type of behavior.

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“The deed is done. You and your idiot brother decided to kidnap this girl and bring her home so now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions! She stays, and you two are in charge of her while I work with the club to cover up your damn mess!”

Micah shoots a look at me that could cut like a knife and it knocks the wind from my lungs. Despite the aggression scrunching up his perfect face, there's a softness in his eyes that I recognize from last night. “Holy shit”- His words echo in my brain. It’s one of the only memories I have left before falling unconscious. What did it mean, why did he say it, and why is he looking at me the same way now? If only a little more agitated.

Elias pushes me around behind him as if to block me from Micah’s wrath, making the situation worse somehow and setting off Micah even more. “Don’t act like I’m the one that needs to be feared, little brother. You know good and damn well who the unstable one is here.” He hisses, jaw clenching as he rises to a stand.

Elias remains still, blocking me from his brothers fury. I peer around Elias’ giant frame and lock eyes with Micah immediately. He almost looks hurt by my fear, “Don't fucking look at me like that.” He snaps in my direction before finally exiting the kitchen. The house is silent except for his stomping feet up the stairs to the second floor before a door slams behind him.

I glance over at the tattooed man still seated at the table. He pushes back his coffee-colored hair from his eyes and releases a stressed breath before leaning back in his chair. Who is this man to them- their father? He looks too young to have kids at Elias and Micah’s age. Is he their brother as well? The family dynamic here is confusing, along with everything else. What’s really stumping me is why Micah is so bothered by my presence when he helped bring me here?

“Get her fed and then get her out of here.” The man waves us both off before exiting the kitchen abruptly through the garage door entrance, acting as if he can’t stand to be in the same room any longer. I glance up at Elias who’s attention slowly turns down to me and my heart begins racing all over again. I don’t know what’s worse- being alone with him or in a room full of strange men that don’t want me here.

His eyes trail over my every feature for what seems like an eternity. The mask covers his expression but somehow I can still feel what he’s feeling. Tense, conflicted, sad- maybe? When he reaches a hand out to touch my face I take a step away from him sheepishly, not comfortable being in the haze of his presence anymore. He seems hurt by this, if someone like him is even capable of such a thing, but doesn't persist. Instead, he takes a seat at the table in front of us but never takes his eyes off of me.

I calm my breathing, trying to relax enough to unglue my feet from the floor but the feeling of being hunted lingers in the air. Every step I take after the first feels followed by the emerald eyes from across the room. My hands shake with every movement between gathering the sandwich supplies to the creation of the meal, feeling like it's going to be my last. As I put away the mayonnaise and mustard I feel the crushing weight of my reality finally set in.

This is real, and there is no escaping it.