Maybe they could put her into the witness protection program until someone discovered who it was that sent her here and wanted to hurt her. They could even let Amelia hide out with her.
That was the best scenario. Amelia would be scared, but she wouldn't have to keep believing Grace was dead.
The door in the kitchen opened. She pulled her feet up on the couch and leaned into the arm of the sofa. At least with Keenan back in the house, she wasn't alone.
She had no idea how long he'd stay. Lately, he seemed to come and go numerous times a day. Each time he returned, he appeared more haggard and tired. The unemotional man she thought had kidnapped her was slowly being replaced with someone she wasn't familiar with.
While he remained closed off and non-verbal during the few times she'd tried to start a conversation, his eyes held constant turmoil. She could tell by looking at him that his mind hadn't stopped thinking, even if his body language screamed of exhaustion. Their situation constantly dominated his thoughts. And whatever occupied him, the assumed outcome displeased him.
She rubbed her temple. He wasn't the only one consumed by the situation. On top of everything, she was the one he'd kidnapped.
Her frustration over Keenan's lack of communication and confessing to who was behind bringing her to Avery Falls continued to bug her. She blamed him, whether he was guilty or not.
Footsteps grew closer. Keenan dropped a sack beside her on the couch and then appeared in view as he crossed the living room.
She lowered her hand. "What's that?"
"Food."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're going to eat." He sat down in the chair across from her. "If you don't, you'll get sick, and then you'll be no help to yourself."
"Isn't that your plan? You don't care what happens to me." She grabbed the bag and looked inside, finding a burger and fries.
Her stomach turned. Knowing she'd typically love to eat the meal, she also knew the grease would further torture her.
She picked a few fries out, surprised they were still piping hot. "I didn't think Avery Falls had fast food."
"They have a deli in the store that sells cold sandwiches and picnic items. I asked them to cook a meal."
"And of course, they did because you're you and get everything you want," she mumbled more to herself than him.
His gaze never left her. She swallowed. While she could never read his thoughts, he always seemed to know what she was thinking.
"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.
"I dropped more food in the fridge. I'll fix something later." He kept looking at her.
Not wanting to rock the boat, she forced herself to chew through his inspection of her. He'd stopped asking if she still hurt from the beating. She'd told him the pain was gone—and it was true. But as soon as she'd deemed herself healed, the bruises started popping up, growing darker every day.
For the first time in her life, she sported a black eye. From there, the discoloration went down and circled her neck, and covered her right side.
She unwrapped part of the hamburger and took a bite. After she swallowed, she grew uncomfortable with the way he continued to watch her.
"Why were you fighting that biker outside?" She took another bite and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did you disagree?"
The more she knew about him, she hoped to put more pieces of his life together. He remained a mystery to her. If she could find his weakness and use it against him, maybe she could also find a way around him to escape.
Keenan inhaled deeply. "A difference of opinion."
"What?" She took another bite. "You believe in kidnapping, and he doesn't? Does the other guy even know I'm here?"
She couldn't tell one biker from another. They all looked the same in their leather vests, longer hair, and beards.
Though, by far, Keenan had the wildest appearance. Maybe because he was the only man in Avery Falls she'd seen up close and not viewed through a glass window.
The only one she'd kissed.
Not that she'd kissed him back, but she'd allowed him to kiss her.
"They know you're here." He got up and walked into the kitchen.
She dropped the rest of her hamburger in the bag and followed him. Her stomach was already full.
"They know I'm here. Isn't that unsafe, considering someone has already tried to kill me?"
Keenan stood in front of the fridge, staring at the few contents on the shelf without answering her. When he made no move to get something, she stepped around him and put the sack with the rest of her meal inside.
He never budged. Washing her hands, she glanced over her shoulder. He mentioned eating later. Maybe he had to talk himself into cooking the food since most of it appeared to be vegetables.
She dried her hands.
He slammed the fridge door, startling her.
She pressed her hand to her pounding heart. "What was that about?"
"Nothing." He walked back into the living room.
"It wasn't nothing." She followed him and sat on the couch as he looked out the window. "Something pissed you off."
His shoulders remained tense. "I want a drink."
"Oh." She curled her legs under her. "I thought you were mad about something big."
"Big enough," he muttered.
"Well, if you want a drink, go get one."
"I can't." He turned away from the window. "Not yet. Not until..."
"Until what? You're no longer keeping me captive?"
"Not until I have my MC brothers back."
"Where did they go?"
"They're just not around." He exhaled harshly. "Why don't you go to bed?"
She shrugged. "I rather know why you can't drink until your biker buds are back."
"You're nosey." He sat in the chair.
"Normally, I'm not. But you're the only person I've had contact with in a long time."
His gaze narrowed, and he pulled on his beard, getting his fingers stuck in the tangle of whiskers. She eyed the mess growing down the front of his chest.
"Do you always have a long beard?" she asked.
Obviously, it'd taken him a long time to grow whiskers that long. But he acted surprised when his fingers tangled in the overgrown and unkept bush.
He yanked his hand, extracting his fingers. "I usually don't keep it this long."
"How long have you been growing it?"
"I don't know." He frowned. "J.J. used to cut it every so often."
"Who's J.J.?"
"No one important."
She hummed, wondering if J.J. was a woman or man. Avery Falls was too small to have a hair stylist. He could even go to the next town for essentials. Maybe J.J. was his barber.
"You should cut it off," she said.
"No."
"Well, at least trim it." She propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and cradled her head in her hand. "And cut your hair a little shorter. You'd look less like a monster."
"People tend to stay away from me regardless of how I look."
"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "It's your face that scares people, anyway."
He tilted his head and gazed at her. She would never win a staring contest with him. Not when she had no idea what was going through his head.