Chapter Five

It's almost two hours before we turn into a very long drive way. It has a wooden gate at the front, with some form of animal skull hanging above the gate. I'm guessing it's a cow or something, judging by the fact that this is a ranch. Seeing as I've never been out of the city I'm not the best person to ask. There's wooden fencing on both sides of the drive way, leading up to a huge house. It's mostly made of wood, with lots of glass as well. It seems to be traditional with a little bit of a contemporary feel to it.

There's a porch on our left hand side, as the car pulls to a stop outside of the house. If I was going to be honest, I would say this place actually looks quite nice. There's rolling fields of grass with horses and cattle eating as the sun is starting to set. But I'm not going to be honest. I don't want to be here. In fact, I hate the thought of being here. This is going to be awful, like torture. We're miles from the nearest town and it looks like there's no hope of me getting into a fight any time soon. This means that I'm not going to be able to sleep, and then I'll just snap at some point. I can't see this ending well at all to be honest.

Smith drags me out of the back of the car and roughly grabs me. I think he's trying to get a reaction out of me, but he doesn't realize I'm much better at this game than everyone else. This is the game I've been playing for most of my life and I won't lose it. This facade that I have, covering up how I really feel is second nature to me. Sure, I let everyone know my distaste, what I really think of them, but I never let people know how I really feel about life and myself. That's something that is private to me and me alone. Those thoughts will not be shared with anyone.

As Smith keeps a firm hold on my left side, Tom grabs my right side. This makes me smirk. They're both annoyed or angry with me and they're both wary of what I might do. Just for laughs, I jolt forward, like I'm going to make a run for it. Both men tighten their grip on me and pull me back to their sides. A chuckle escapes from me involuntarily and I swear I hear both guys growl.

“You know, I'm not going to get much work done here if I'm constantly cuffed. Someone's gotta take them off at some point, right? Or I could just sit in a corner cuffed for however long you've got me here...”

“Once we hand you over, that's not our problem. He can tie you up and let you rot if he wants. You're not our problem when we leave this place.”

“Hmmm, tying up sounds like fun...”

Tom's tone lets me know he's exasperated as he says, “You are unbelievable.”

“That's what he said...”

Smith grunts, “You had to say it, didn't you?”

“You guys never learn. Every single one of you walks right into it. It's you guys that have the one track mind, not me.”

“If you're like this all the time, how have you not been put into hospital by now? There's got to be someone out there that you've got on the wrong side of. Surely, they want to hurt you.”

“Simple, I'm a better fighter than them. Besides, you're cops, aren't you supposed to be against people hurting others?”

“We'll make an exception for you. Especially if it'll shut you up.”

Smith's response is cut short as a screen door slams shut, turning our attention to the porch. The guy that is standing at the top of the small set of steps is eyeing us closely. I can see the guarded look in his eyes, like he's assessing the situation. You might remember when I first saw Smith, I said he wasn't ugly; that he was just an average looking guy. Now, I'm going to actually be honest with you guys and tell you that this guy standing on the porch is quite a looker. I might be a nasty piece of work and hold a little bit of anger, ok, a lot of anger, but I can still appreciate an extremely good looking guy. It looks like he stands well over 6 foot tall and he's built like a brick. It looks like he works out; a lot. He has scruff on his chin, but it doesn't look bad on him. His shaggy hair is really dark brown and he's very tanned, like he may have some Mediterranean in his gene pool. Whatever he's got, it certainly looks good on him. As I scan over him, I come to a stop at his eyes. The piercing chocolate orbs are striking. They seem like they're trying to read me, but I refuse to look away. That would be a sign of weakness and I won't show any form of weakness. I do a quick check to make sure my features are neutral and my eyes are guarded before he steps off the porch toward us.

When he's standing in front of us, I notice just how tall he really is. I'm not short. I stand at about 5 foot 9 inches, but this guy has a good 7 or 8 inches over me. I stand tall and square my shoulders, well, as much as having my hands cuffed behind my back will allow me to. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Tom and Smith send the guy nods and they greet him.

The new guy's voice is deep and gravelly as he drawls out, “You must be Arya Flynn...”

I can't stop myself, “Really? I think you've got the wrong girl. Guys, we better turn around and go back. It's all been a mix up...”

He chuckles. He actually chuckles. Who does he think he is? He's supposed to get annoyed with my outright distaste of this place.

Smith speaks first, “She doesn't want to be here. Watch out, she'll try getting you to shoot her next...”

He raises his eyebrows at that. “I'll warn you, I don't miss.”

I quickly quip back, “Even better.”

“You're gonna fit in well here.”

I scoff, “Doubt it.”

“I'm Justin Montanaro.”

Italian, I knew it. I don't respond to his comment. What am I supposed to say? Nice to meet you? Let's be friends? Er, no, I don't think so. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be friends and it's really not nice to meet him. Although, he is a bit of eye candy.

“If I get these guys to take your cuffs off, will you behave yourself?”

Tom, Smith and myself all snort at that. I say, “Can't make any promises.”

“At least you're honest. I can work with that.”

Smith quips, “You'll get sick of it. She doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut...”

Insert my signature smirk here. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It makes an appearance often.

Justin doesn't acknowledge Smith's comment. Instead he just says, “I believe you guys have some papers for me to sign before you hand Miss Flynn over. Let's get that out of the way so I can get everything settled for the evening.”

Tom hands over the paperwork, which Justin signs quickly. It's almost like he wants to get the two guys out of here. When the papers are signed, Smith asks, “You've read her file, right? She's violent and can slip her cuffs if her hands are in front.”

“I've read it. We've got to start building some trust here, so if I'm going to take Arya's cuffs off, I'm going to trust she's not going to try anything right now.”

I roll my eyes at that, but say nothing, as Tom starts to take my cuffs off. I hear him say, “On your head be it, Justin.”

I turn my head, so I can see what Tom is doing. I might be tired and angry at being here, but I'm not going to let my guard down. I see Justin raise his eyebrows slightly as he watches me, but I keep my expression blank. The last thing I need to do is let him know that he might have noticed one of my tells. Something tells me that this is no ordinary guy. I don't know what is different about him, but I know he's not a cop. I can tell a cop a mile off.

As soon as my cuffs are off, I bring my hands to my front and tense up, getting ready for anything. When choosing a fight or flight response, I will always choose fight. I didn't used to be like that, but that's not really important right now. I see Justin's stance change and he tenses too, probably getting ready to take me down if he needs to. I shake my head a little, but I can't relax. I'm never relaxed, especially when I don't know what's going to happen. Tom shoves me a little and I turn to punch him in the face, but a firm hand grabs my wrist before I can complete the punch.

Justin's deep voice seeps through my anger, “You don't want to do that Arya. That's not the smartest move right now, is it?”

I spit out, “Does it look like I care? Maybe it'll get me sent to jail instead...”

“You've done jail time, it can't be better than the freedom of living out here. Tom, that was uncalled for. You don't need to shove Miss Flynn...”

Tom responds bitterly, “You'll see. Once you spend more than 5 minutes with her, you'll understand.”

“I think you underestimate the control I have over myself. Maybe you need to learn from that. You as well, Miss Flynn. You need to learn to control that anger. Otherwise it'll consume you...”

I snort, “So you're a shrink now?”

“I'm a lot of things, Miss Flynn. You'll learn that about me. Thank you guys, you can leave us to it. I'll show Miss Flynn to her room and make sure she's settled. Thank you for dropping her off.”

The 2 Marshalls are back in the car before I can even blink. I chuckle at the fact that they can't get away from me quick enough. People are just used for my amusement.

“Shall we, Miss Flynn?”

“Arya.”

I see the fake look of confusion on his face as he questions, “Sorry?”

“My name is Arya.”

I do a good job of keeping my voice normal, even though I'm annoyed at his use of my name. I don't even know why I'm so annoyed about him calling me Miss Flynn. I know that's what cops and attorneys call me, but I don't usually care enough to even think about it. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm quietly seething at this whole situation right now. I need to release this anger and tension before I explode. I have to find a way to work through this or it is going to be an extremely long stay.

“Ok, Arya. Let's go inside.”

He leads me through the front door, which opens out into a reception room or whatever you call it. He carries on walking, so I follow him into an open plan kitchen that leads to a living room at the back of the house. The kitchen is sort of placed in the left/middle of the massive room. On the right hand side, there is a big log fireplace and the back wall is completely made of glass. The doors open out onto a stone courtyard which overlooks the land. You can see the cows and horses grazing from here. That is already my favorite part; solitude.

“I was just about to eat. Are you hungry?”

“I'm fine.”

My stomach reveals my lie, as it betrays me and rumbles loudly.

“I think your stomach disagrees with that. When was the last time you ate?”

I shrug. I didn't eat anything in holding. Going a few days without food isn't too bad. You get used to it after a while and eventually you don't even notice the ache in the pit of your stomach.

“I made chilli, I'll fix you a bowl. You eat bread, right?”

I nod, confused at the way he's acting. I'm a criminal, isn't he supposed to hate me or something? Isn't that how this whole thing works? He stares at me for a few seconds and then questions, “What? What's that look for?”

“Why are you being nice?”

“How am I supposed to be? We're going to be spending a lot of time working together, there's no sense making it even more difficult...”

“That's your plan, is it? Try to befriend me? Maybe try to get into my head so you can see where everything went wrong and why I'm the way that I am?”

“Where do you get that stuff from? You've got some serious trust issues, Arya. All I'm trying to do is make it a little more bearable for you; for both of us. I know you don't want to be here, but that's what the state of New York decided so you're gonna have to deal with it. If you want to do this the hard way, that's fine. I can do the hard way...”

My signature smirk appears, “That's what he said...”

He rolls his eyes at me, “Really? Just really? I'm a Marine, Arya. You think I haven't heard pretty much all the dirty jokes known to mankind already? I can make this whole situation a lot more difficult for you. I can make it unbearable, and I will if I have to, but I thought I'd give you a chance at making it easy for yourself. I'm supposed to help you deal with your issues and I will do that any way I have to. So the choice is up to you. You need to choose which way you're going to take.”

I square my shoulders and calmly say, “I'd rather not eat.”

I start walking towards the front door, but for a big dude, he certainly can move fast. He's in front of me before I know it, with both of his hands on my upper arms to stop me from walking any further. I swing both of my arms out and shake his grip on me before taking a swing at him. He tries to restrain me, but I make a cat like move and duck out of his embrace quickly. I move away from him fast, and grind out, “Don't touch me.”

“Don't try to run away then. If you do what you're told, then I'll honor your personal space. You step out of line, I step into your space.”

“Whatever. I was actually just going to sit on the porch.”

“Rule number one, you don't go anywhere unless it's approved by me. Especially if it's out of my sight and reach.”

I scoff at that, “Coz that doesn't sound creepy at all... Is that why you do this? To prey on young women? Can't hold a relationship the normal way?”

I think I see something flicker in his eyes, but I can't be certain. His face shows no emotion whatsoever, and I realize I'm really going to have to up my game if I want to get some form of reaction out of him.

“I'll show you to your room. You'll be staying in the main house in the bedroom next to mine. The door will be locked once you are in the room for the night. You have a bathroom attached to your bedroom and there's some clothes and essentials in there already. Breakfast is at 0500 hours and we start work in the barn at 0530. I expect you to be ready when I open the door at 0500.”

He opens the door for me and ushers me in. Before he shuts the door, he says, “Remember, it's your choice to take the hard route.”

I hear the lock click into place and I'm left standing in the middle of the room, wondering what just actually happened. I glance around the bedroom, taking in the décor. It looks more traditional than the downstairs. Lots of wooden beams and old furniture. The walls are painted a simple white and the bed sheets are white with blue stripes. There's a large window along the back wall, which overlooks the back of the house. From here, I can see the courtyard and the fields. I also notice there's a pool out to the left side of the courtyard. This dude must have some serious money. I can't imagine having even one room in this house.

There's a pile of clothes sitting on the bed, so I take a quick look at what they've left for me. A few t shirts, a few pairs of skinny jeans and shorts, underwear and socks, and some camisoles. There's also a few sets of sleepwear. It's all pretty much standard correctional facility stuff really. Plain stuff that's only meant to do the job of covering you up. Thankfully, I'm not into fashion so plain clothes really don't bother me.

I'm thankful to at least get out of the clothes I'm in, so I change in a pair of sweats and a navy t shirt. I sit on the middle of the bed, waiting for the morning light. I think it's going to be a long night, so I start reciting the team rosters in a bid to fight off sleep. When that doesn't work, I start doing some exercises. Just on the off chance, I try the window but it's locked. No surprise there. It seems like this guy thinks about every eventuality.



I'm in the middle of the Giants' roster when my eyes flutter closed.