Over two hours later, the persistent sinking feeling of being led to nowhere was proved wrong.

Steven had navigated his way through a series of windy roads lined with dense hedgerows that presumably backed onto fields, and for all of his driving efforts, his destination was a farmhouse standing proudly in the van's dipped headlights.

"Is this it?" Brad leaned forward with a hand on the dash, evidently shocked by their location.

The gravel stopped crunching when Steven slowed their vehicle to a stop, and he flipped it into neutral.

"Holy shit..." Tom had already copied Brad's stunned gaze.

Steven was looking ahead too, but did not share the same enthusiasm about the new roof over their heads. So when the shaky sort of laughter appeared beside him, he turned the engine and lights off and got out to escape it.

Making his way to the front door was simple when an outside light automatically registered his presence, and an assumption had him finding a key that was concealed underneath the doormat.

It felt odd, Steven couldn't help the apprehension he felt, and the whole place was too good to be true given the bailing circumstances that had preceded this address.

"Well, come on!" Tom nudged his shoulder, his tall blonde friend startling him back to life. "Let's go inside."

Steven changed his grip of the key between his fingers, his doubtful thoughts an increasing burden to carry around, but did the honours of unlocking the place- the last place, and likely the last chance he had.

Tom hit the lights after finding them, an enthusiastic Brad following in his footsteps, and Steven surveyed the ground floor, swinging open doors, glancing here and there, but didn't really have the energy to pay attention to anything that he saw.

He ended up back where he started, standing in the centre of the utility room which was the first room on the left and utterly glued to the spot. His mind flashed back twenty four hours ago, to a firm thud and her last conscious breath against the palm of his hand.

The fleeting memory left another vicious mark and forced Steven to clutch at the units on one side until his knuckles were screaming white.

"Is she staying here?"

Regaining composure was fast because Steven didn't want to be caught having a mini breakdown, but he still blinked at his friend like he hadn't heard anything.

Joey nodded slowly to himself. "Guess I'll go and get her then."

<>

The side door of the van whooshed open once again.

Leah knew she'd been on the road for a long time because all of her limbs had cramped up from sitting uncomfortably and from having to endure every bump and pot hole there was to offer.

Voice mute, she was moved with guidance until her feet dropped down off the edge. The gravel was sharp and sunk into the soles of her feet as soon as she was nudged forward, so she tried to walk on the outer parts of her feet to ease the pain. Luckily, the surface changed to something much more smooth and inviting, and as did the direction until she was stopped for good.

The hand on her arm dropped, and there was brief tension at the back of her head. The knot was loosened, the blindfold slipped from her eyes to her neck, and the flood of light and new surroundings forced a squint in order to adjust.

Despite her wariness, Leah spun around, catching the guy who had escorted her a little off guard as he was made to take a sudden step back. It also meant he held his hands awkwardly in front of him since he was interrupted from trying to relieve the fabric completely.

He was roughly the same height as her, maybe a fraction taller with a well built frame. He had curly brown hair down to his neck with shorter curls covering his forehead and thinly shaped eyebrows peeking underneath. His eyes were a light blue, his nose straight and his face sported a decently clean shave.

"Did I catch you?" he asked with uncertainty, which drew her attention from his appearance.

Leah hadn't forgotten about her head wound, but because it was constantly being a nuisance, she had grown used to it. She hadn't been given any more painkillers, but perhaps they didn't think she needed anymore because it must've miraculously healed overnight.

"No it's- no you didn't." She craned her neck to inspect around her, distracting her speech, "I just-uh, well...this is a new place, I didn't know..."

She didn't know a lot of things, but she did have another description of one of the guys.

"...what to expect," she finished, with her wandering eyes landing back on him.

"Right, yeah sure." He nodded like he understood, and scratched the back of his hair.

Leah's eyes moved around again.

It was a decently sized utility room with a washing machine, sink, various units for storage on one side and what looked to be further facilities through a separate door to her right.

"Can I?"

His softly imploring voice had Leah following his pointing finger to the tie on her wrists.

There was no need to respond, and he made quick work until the rope hung in his hand.

"I should go...I'm not really supposed to be here," he said, before the silence between them became awkward.

That made two of them opting for the same excuse, and a conclusion that it was unlikely that either of them were in charge with their reluctance to stay. Leah had an idea that maybe the leader was Joe, the man with the sculpted jaw, and the first she had seen. It was the only time she had seen him too, and if it was him, then sending his guys to do the dirty work for him was a pretty shitty quality to be proud of.

But there was still one more guy unaccounted for, assuming she was right with there being five Americans, and a name she had yet to put a face to because she just didn't feel like she had met someone who was fit to be a Tyler.

Mixed up in her own head, crazy in her own guessing game, Leah was almost appreciative when her silence was taken as a cue to leave.

She heard the door lock since her luck was running low on non-existent, registering and ticking the facts. It was a lot to take in- all of this was- but she felt like she had made some sort of progress and maybe, the morning light would shine kindly for her.

<>

The boys had grabbed their luggage from the van and locked it up quickly because there was a hushed buzz of excitement at the thought of shacking up in such a spacious property with complete furnishings.

Well, three of them at least. Joey's encounter had made him feel riddled with guilt, and Steven had too much going on in his head to even go there.

The farmhouse had five bedrooms all on the next floor, two of which had ensuites and a final large bathroom next to the top of the stairs. No one argued over the rooms, and simply chose what hadn't been claimed.

Steven was the first upstairs having cooled off in what he assumed was the drawing room, or a second living space. He'd civilly requested a cigarette from Joe to calm himself down, had it lit for him, and then he'd grabbed his stuff, climbed the stairs, and claimed the master bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut behind him, the bags in his hands fell onto the carpet with a soft thud. Steven reached over to his left to flick on the main light, his head hit the back of the door, and he brought up his thumb and index finger to hold his smoking cigarette.

He took a couple of long drags, looking around his room past the glowing orange stub.

It was plenty big enough with a double bed and neat bedside tables, built-in storage on one side, a chest of drawers, and an ensuite. It was beautifully furnished and ready to be lived in, and he wouldn't have been surprised if all the cupboards and storage areas downstairs were full to the brim with essentials.

Previous houses didn't even come close to this, and Steven wondered with the whats, the whys and the hows, and if by morning the cops would be banging on the door with five sets of handcuffs and a lifetime imprisonment.

He knew he would have to tell the others at some point about the parting message, and he knew it would give them all a reason to leave, but for Steven, giving up was not an option. He'd travelled too many miles and spent too long searching to go back empty handed. He would carry on until it killed him, and with bad habits recurring, he was edging down that road already.

On instinct, Steven dipped his free hand underneath the neckline of his top and traced the delicate chain with his fingertips. It was enough to give him motivation and enough to give him a reason to live, but not enough strength to deal with her.

There were questions, there were feelings, but none of it came close to the shame of knowing he had made another mistake.

Regret destabilising his behaviour, Steven finished his cigarette and moved to crush the end in the ashtray on the bedside. He drew both sets of thick curtains closed, stripped his clothes so he was only in his boxers, and for the first time in a long time, he actually felt tired.

When he wandered into his ensuite, there were fresh towels on the rails, a new soap dispenser on the washbasin, razors and shaving cream in the cabinet, shower gel and shampoo in the shower...

Everything that needed to be there was there and Steven thought he was dreaming.

He finished up, and another sight of the bed enticed him to forget. Tiredness wasn't a familiar feeling, particularly when he was high in the middle of most nights, but there was no such satisfaction tonight, and he flipped the lights to endure the body's mechanism of recovery and rest.

The mattress was soft and the duvet softer when Steven pulled it over himself, and it probably wasn't even thirty seconds before he was fast asleep. Whether or not he would stay that way, only time would tell.

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