The Glass Man (3 page)

4

A whiff of the outhouse pushed me out behind the barn instead. A shiver raced through me as I scanned the forest beyond the gurgling river. I found no warnings of my hunter: no shrill, whining insects that always preceded him, and no weight of his presence on my mind like two strong magnets repelling one another. I didn’t know if he affected the insects or if they warned me intentionally. Without them, I would have died years ago like the rest of my family.

I hadn’t seen him in several weeks. Every night my anxiety grew with the certainty my luck would run out. There, by the river, my guard came down and the tightness through my shoulders eased. I hadn’t relaxed since the diamond-eyed freak found me for the first time when I was thirteen—almost seven years before.

When I finished my business, I looked up at the black and white barn. The energy had to come from somewhere. No other person I’d met emitted such a force, not that I had the foggiest clue what else it could be. Nothing man made, certainly. I needed to find out before I left, or it would chew on my mind for months—maybe forever.

A few other buildings dotted the property: a shed covering a rusty tractor and wagon, some sort of grain storage silo, and a small chicken coop on the far side of the house. I’d start with the barn, the most likely place to hide something.

Crouched in the grass, I listened for footsteps or any other signs someone might be lurking. I didn’t need to get caught sneaking around again after Liam fed me and offered me actual money for work instead of just room and board. I hated to be such an invasive wretch, but my curiosity called.

When I heard nothing, I stalked toward the entrance to the barn.

Upon reaching the broad panels, I turned and searched the path along the river again but still found nothing but the silver veiled night. The doors hung on metal rails at the top. I tipped the bottom out far enough to peek inside, but the darkness kept me from seeing much of anything. As my eyes adjusted from the moonlight to the inky shade inside the barn, a tiny flicker of candlelight caught my eye.
Damn.
Clancy had said that he’d sleep in the barn.

“What you doin’ out here?” A gruff voice came from behind me.

I whirled and jammed my knuckles against the wooden panel. Cursing, I shook out my fingers while searching for the owner of the voice. My heart thumped a frantic tune against my ribs.
How did he sneak up on me?

“Boss don’t like people snoopin’ ’round his business.” The old guy from the shed stepped out of the barn’s moon shadow. I could have set a plate on top of his grey brush cut, and it wouldn’t have moved. The eerie light cast shadows onto his face, leaving pools of darkness where his eyes should have been. I shivered.

“I’m sorry, I just …”
Think, dammit, think!
“I grew up on a farm. Seeing this barn just brought back some memories. I didn’t mean to be so nosy.” I chuckled.

He walked toward me with a limp. His left leg appeared to be an inch or two shorter than his right one. “Where’s this farm you grew up on?”

Those eyes weighed on me, even though I couldn’t see them. My pulse betrayed me, leaping out of my neck. All of the places I’d travelled scrolled through my mind. “A town in Ontario.”

“Canada? Which town?”

Danger alarms blared in my head. I had to get him out of my face before he forced me to say something I shouldn’t. “Just a little one stoplight town, farms mostly.”

The man shifted forward. I could have sworn he grew. He seemed more imposing than he had a minute before. “Why are you avoidin’ the question?”

“Lakefield. Happy now?”

He made a low, growly noise. It took me a second to realize he’d laughed. “You’re a real piece of work, lady. What the hell you doin’ down here if you’re from up there?”

Shit, he’s not going to give up.
“I want to see some of the country before there’s nothing left to see.” I stretched and forced a yawn. “Well, I’m off to bed.” I tried to skirt around him, but he shifted to block me.

“What you really doin’ here?” He stepped in close, but I still couldn’t see his eyes. A deep scowl arranged the rest of his face.

Maybe a half truth would do? “I’m looking for some friends of mine. Have there been any strangers here lately?”

He stood a little straighter. “Some. Had a small group yesterday. Passed along the hill up the way you came from.”

That had to be it. A whole group of people like me. Excitement surged through my chest, but I held my reaction inside. That didn’t explain why the energy had disappeared so abruptly earlier.

“We found a bunch of tools missin’ this mornin’.” He poked a finger into my shoulder. “That what you’re doin’ in the barn? Comin’ back for the rest?”

I shoved his finger aside and rubbed my shoulder. “I’m not here to steal anything, buddy. Now, I’m going for a walk, and then I’m going to sleep, so get the hell out of my way before I knock you on your wrinkled ass.”

I returned his glare, pushed past him and strode along the river until I cleared the barn. When I turned, his gaze continued to stick to me, though his body remained by the doorway. I wondered if he’d tell Liam about my extracurricular activities. My cover story needed some work just in case.

When I made it around the barn, I scanned the ridge of trees where the energy had been the strongest. I wanted another taste before turning in. If I left the next day, I could catch up to the group, using their trail to draw me to them.

I walked all the way to the top of the hill before stopping. Nothing. Not a trace of energy remained. Deflated, I slumped down on a boulder and pounded my fist against it. How could I have come so close to others like me, missing them by a day with no way to track them? Their trail must have dissipated in the last few hours.

When I finished sulking, I sauntered back down the hill. Candlelight flickered from the kitchen window in the house.
What are you doing in there all by yourself, Mr. Conner?

“Find what you were looking for?” Liam’s voice came from beside me.

“Shit!” I slapped a hand over my heart. “You scared the hell out of me.” He and his crew seemed to pop out of the ground like freakin’ mushrooms.

Liam sat on top of a rail fence in front of the house. His gun leaned against the post by his feet. “Awful late for a girl to be wanderin’ these woods alone.” His chin quivered, but his smirk emerged anyway.

My eyes wanted to explore him from top to bottom, but I forced them to his amused face. “I told you I can take care of myself.”

He nodded, the smirk escalating into a full grin.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, aching to pull up his shirt and run my hands up his chest, to smell him.
Stop it!

I turned and stomped toward the shed. My spine had never tingled, nor had little wings gone aflutter in my stomach over a guy. Touchy-feely didn’t make my list of qualities. I needed some sleep, some money and to get the hell away from Ricker’s Ridge.

“Wait. Come back.” He shouted between snickers. “You make it too easy to get under your skin.”

I shook my head and kept walking.

“How about a drink before you hit the hay? Got some nice whiskey saved up.”

“Not thirsty.” Alcohol weakened my control. I never touched the stuff.

“’Night then.” His laughter faded as I moved along the front of the barn.

When I could no longer hear him, I stopped and bent forward, hands propped on my knees. A few deep breaths calmed my throbbing heart. I scrubbed my arms to get rid of the goosebumps and to erase the ache, the need to go back, to just be near him again. The entire day seemed a surreal dream, or maybe I was just losing my damn mind.

I dawdled on my way back to the shed. Although the thought of sleeping on something other than a nest of grass held a certain appeal, my greatest comfort came from having my feet against the ground, the wind in my hair and the sky above my head. Man-made places threw off my senses. I never figured out why.

I took a cleansing breath and entered the shed. A frightened voice hit me.

“Don’t, Rourke. Please!” Garret’s hands trembled where he stood by the far wall, face to face with Mr. Psycho.

Rourke glowered at him, a smile fit for a demon picking up his thin lips.

“Is there a problem here?” I closed the door behind me.

Rourke bumped into Garret so hard the boy stumbled over one of the upturned logs and sprawled out on the dirt floor. Shoving fingers through his slicked-back hair, Rourke licked his lips. His eyes dared me to challenge him. He plunked himself down, leaned his back against the wall and shuffled the deck of cards over and over.

I offered a hand to the boy. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, grabbed my forearm and hauled himself to his feet. Other than the damage Rourke had caused him earlier, I found nothing new. The bruises around his eyes had spread into a purple mask.

Garret met my eyes with an obvious effort and held out his hand to me. I took it, and we shook. “I’m Garret.” He motioned behind him with his head. “The old grump is Sebastian. I guess you know the other one as much as you care to.”

“Yeah, Sebastian and I have met.” I nodded to Mr. Brush Cut. He sneered back.

“What was that all about?” I whispered to Garret.

“Don’t. Please.”

“How often does Rourke hurt you?”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading with me to shut up. I did, but Liam and I would be having a little chat in the morning.

“You can take the empty cot in the corner if you like.” Garret pointed behind me. “It’s the farthest from Sebastian. He snores like a fucking chainsaw.” His mouth fell open, and he blushed. “Excuse my mouth, ma’am.”

“My poor virgin ears.” I smiled. “I’m not a Sunday school teacher. You can cuss all you like.”

The grin he flashed made him look so young. I wondered what had happened to put him out on his own so early in life. He rubbed the redness on his cheeks.

Sebastian harrumphed and limped toward the far end of the shed. How did he climb up and down a ladder with that leg? Groaning, he lowered himself onto one of the cots and threw the covers over his head.

Garret followed me to the corner.

“How long have you been working for Liam?” I inspected my cot and tattered grey blanket. My pack clunked to the floor beside me, dropped harder than I meant it to.
Idiot!

“I’m new this season.”

I opened my pack and fished around for the T-shirt-wrapped package I stored in the middle.

“The other three been working for Liam for three years, and then old man Conner since Christ wore diapers.”

When I unwrapped it and found it unbroken, I exhaled. “Is Liam a good guy to work for?”

“Oh, yeah.” Garret parked himself on my cot and rubbed his hands over his skinny knees. “Always brings us stuff to drink and lets us off for extra time at lunch to swim if it’s real hot. Pay’s not great, but brainless shit work’s always the same. ’Sides, most folks can’t find any work these days, so I feel real lucky.” He turned those wondering green eyes on me. “What’s that you got there?”

Without thinking, I took the wooden box and set it on the bed. “My mother used to sing this song to me when I was little.” I tipped up the hinged lid, and the haunting melody played. “It’s all I have left of her.” She’d also told me never to let it out of my sight.

I touched the antique gold necklace and ring inside and listened to the music until tears threatened. The concern in Garret’s eyes brought me back from my mental wandering. My stomach lurched.
Really? Did I just spill my guts to a complete stranger? Fuck.

I bundled the old shirt around the music box again and shoved it into my pack. After securing the latch, I clutched it to my chest. “Don’t tell anyone you saw this.” If anything had happened to it, I’d have been screwed. I shuddered at the thought.

“Oh, yeah, I won’t tell nobody. It’s real beautiful. Lost my mom a ways back too. Sang like a frog with a cold, but I miss the smell of her, like wildflowers and rain.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So, you gonna hang around for a bit?” Garret cracked the solemn face that had been forming and let out the excited young boy again. “You’re not so bad for a girl.”

“Uh—thanks, I guess.” I chuckled. “And no. I’ll work a bit and then be on my way.”

“What’s the rush? Don’t like hangin’ around with the riff raff?”

“Stop bothering the lady,” Rourke barked from where he lounged against the wall chewing on his gum and fanning the cards in and out. “Nosy little puke.”

“Shut it, Rourke,” I said.

He gave me that nasty grin again.

My fingers curled into a fist.

Garret pushed himself up to his feet. A scarlet hue crept along his face. “Sorry ’bout that. Before Gran died, she used to tell me I needed to work on my rattle mouth.”

I put my hand on his arm. “You’re a nice kid. Don’t apologize for that.”

“I’ll leave you be, then.” He padded off, giving Rourke a wide berth as he went.

Watching him walk away from me tugged on my heart. Some long dormant instinct in me wanted to grab him up, pull him into my bed and wrap my arms around him. The need had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with comfort and protecting him from the slimeball on the floor. I took a step forward before I came to my senses.
Pure lunacy.
I didn’t even know the kid. Liam could take care of it in the morning. So why didn’t the knot in my stomach believe it? No, I’d watch from a distance, intervene if I had to and nothing more.

Rourke’s mischievous eyes followed Garret to his cot and rolled toward me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I turned my back on him—not usually something I did to a predator. Sometimes I hated that I was a light sleeper, but not that night. If I hurt him, it would be his own damn fault.

After peeling off my long-sleeved T-shirt, leaving my black tank and jeans on, I crawled under the scratchy grey blanket and settled my pack in beside me. Thoughts of Liam kept slipping into my head: those tight abs, the sexy ‘v’ of muscle disappearing into his snug jeans, those dark chocolate eyes. I smacked myself in the forehead and thought of swimming in the cold river, instead. The sooner I left, the better. Maybe I’d work for a day and leave before nightfall.