Midnight Toxicity

21.

"Get off me!" I snapped at the stranger who kept me trapped against the wall. "Who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on me? Marie said nothing about men attacking me for no reason when I agreed to come here. You have five seconds before I kick your balls into your asshole, and you have to shit them out so Dr. Moray can reattach them below your micro-penis."

The shock on his face was almost laughable, except my heart thundered like it wanted to escape my chest. His turquoise eyes darkened when I remained motionless, hoping he would back off if I became limp in body but fierce in the tongue. I hated fighting, but he acted as if he intended to hurt me. I didn't regret lashing out.

Why do I always find myself in these awful situations? I felt cursed and a little turned on. The heat in his striking eyes pinked my cheeks after his glare darted to where my top had risen, exposing my navel ring. This type of shit never happened until Jack, and I started infighting.

The grip around my neck lessened until it dropped away completely when he stepped backward. We silently stared at each other until I collected my cool. I straightened my shirt and took in the rest of the room.

I walked over to gaze out of the cameo window overlooking the rear of the property. In the darkness, it was impossible to discern much other than woods. I was not afraid of the dark, but the inky night did something to my sense of comfort. For the first time since I could remember, the cacophony of the city I had grown up with was missing. My hurried arrival here made me wonder if Derry and Kacen knew they were sacrificing me for a war I had no idea was taking place.

Then I looked up, and the gazillion stars in the sky had me zoning out until the white-haired man cleared his throat. Oh right, I just told this dude he was going to need to crap out his nuts if he continued choking me.

A light flickered below, dragging my attention downward.

There, in the once dark woods, a fire flared, and even from this distance, I saw people gathered around it. I watched in confusion as one by one they abandoned the bonfire until two remained. Who are they? And why did an icy chill run down my spine at the sight?

"What did you place behind the painting?" he demanded, and I gave him a sly shrug.

"Look for yourself." I taunted, staring out the window instead of dwelling on my failure. I would locate another weapon tonight before sleeping anywhere near him.

My words had him sprinting to the oil painting of a tiny sailboat in the path of a massive storm, reminding me of how I loved to draw. He tipped the picture, cupping the blade when it fell into his waiting hand. He studied it for a second before placing it back.

"What are you doing?" I asked, not trusting his actions.

"If I was a pretty girl stuck in a house full of strangers, I'd keep a knife handy too," he muttered, shuffling to stand by the doorway once more. "I'm Chace. Sorry if I was rough, but you acted shady as hell."

I cackled at his assessment, his eyes lighting up at the sound. His pure white locks and geeky glasses totally worked for him, I concluded, after checking out his preppy clothing. "Well, now that we've established that we're both hotheads, can you point out the nearest bathroom? It's been a day."

He nodded. "Yes. Sad to say, but there's only a communal bathroom."

"You're joking!" I gasped, shocked that a place this big only had one freaking toilet, although Gary mentioned that they built the reform school in the late eighteenth century. "Okay... will you fill me in on everything else? Such as the fire raging in the woods?"

He stepped up behind me, and I inhaled his scent of cedar and something spicy. His sweat? Whatever it was, I did not hate it. His head dipped beside mine as he took in the view before sighing and giving me space.

"Mr. Golding exacts punishments by the lake." Chace snorted. "He's dramatic like that."

I thought Golding had better things to do than babysit a bunch of delinquents. How often did he stay here? Maybe that's why I felt unsettled watching all but two drift away from the flame with thick smoke billowing into the sky. "What did they do to piss him off? What warrants a beating at sundown?"

He licked his lips, pushing his frames up his nose with his middle finger. Ha— I saw what he did there. "You're late to the game. I have been here a week, along with everyone else. We run together in the mornings, break for food, train some more, eat, and repeat. In the evenings, I catch up on projects for Andy."

I liked how he did not hesitate to explain, except for answering my question. "I'm not much of a runner."

He made a disdainful sound while leaning in the doorway. "You'll get used to it. It's important to feel like a part of the group. But with the jobs we are expected to complete, we don't have time to hang out."

I raised an eyebrow. "You called him Andy. Does he prefer that?"

"Absolutely not." He straightened, waving for me to follow him out into the small area between rooms. "Slip of the tongue. I'll show you around."

My smile was sincere as I joined him. After our terrible introduction, I figured we would not get along, but he brushed it off, and I let our misunderstanding slide. Golding paired us for a reason, and who knew how long it would last, but for now, I would try my best to gel with my roommate.

"What's behind this door?" I questioned, pointing to the one at the end of the short hall. "Hopefully, a toilet."

"It's not a door, but plantation shutters leading to the balcony," he gave me a serious look. "Don't go out there. A substantial amount of the house has rotted and is only half restored."

Disappointed, I nodded in understanding, accompanying him into the corridor. The doorways were open now, but the occupants were elsewhere.

I opened my mouth to ask questions but changed my mind. I did not want to come across as eager or give him any unintentional information. Marie and Gary already learned of my problems with my stepfather. However, these people were more than likely criminals, and the best thing I could do was not offer them ammo to use against me.

Chace checked me out over his shoulder before stopping on the main landing, jerking his head upwards. "In case you are curious about what's up there, I'll tell you. Nothing. There's nothing on the upper levels except old furniture and mice."

"Mice?" I cringed. "That means they're everywhere."

He nodded, tracing his finger over an intricate design on the banister. "True, but the floors have damage, and you could fall through. We've restored quite a bit, but it's a massive project."

"You work on the house?" My voice squeaked in surprise. I swung a hammer once. It was not to fix anything but to bust an egotistical asshole in the head. Jack ended up taking it from me, and a good thing too, because I would have sent that guy to the hospital.

"Yes, Mrs. Bitters and Chloe cook and clean, but we're assigned chores." He frowned at my pout. If they stick me on bathroom duty, someone will get a paddling. "But four teams, including us, live here. You'll meet them later, although one is out on assignment."

When would Golding allow me to step outside these grounds? I had a feeling if I didn't prove myself to Chace, the rest of the crew would make my life a living hell.