by Stella Hart
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over at him.
He kept his eyes on the path. “Remember when we were talking about the island tunnels, and you said you heard that a lot of them were blocked off during the war and turned into private bomb shelters?”
“Yes.”
“There’s one on our property,” he said, pointing into the distance. “It’s in a clearing in the woods over there.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. My mom showed it to me when I was a kid so I could play in it.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Of course he played in old bomb shelters when he was a child. Weird, creepy asshole.
“Why didn’t you just put me in there from the start?” I asked, forehead wrinkling. “Why risk the Blackthorne tunnels?”
He gave me a withering look. “Because my mother lives on this property, and there’s usually a few staff members here as well,” he said, gesturing toward the house. “I didn’t want anyone to see you.”
I followed his gaze back to the mansion and stopped in my tracks as a sense of longing overwhelmed me.
He glared at me. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing as we’re so close to the house, do you think…” I cut myself off halfway through my sentence, realizing he’d probably say no to my question. There was no point in asking it.
“Do I think what?”
“Never mind,” I mumbled.
“Just fucking say it.”
I looked down at my feet. “I know you don’t owe me any favors after what I did yesterday, but would you let me have a shower?” I asked. “It’s been so long, and I feel so disgusting. If I could just—”
He cut me off. “No fucking way.”
“But you said you wanted to keep me for a few more weeks,” I said. A pleading note crept into my voice. I’d never been so desperate for something so basic. “If I stay dirty, those cuts on my leg could get infected. Didn’t you say you were worried about that?”
He frowned. “I guess I should probably change the bandage,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw.
“So I can clean myself up?”
“Okay,” he said tersely. He pushed me back down the path, toward the front of the mansion.
“Anyone here?” he called out as we stepped through the main entrance. “Colette?”
I looked around the lavishly-decorated grand foyer as we waited for a response. A shiver ran down my spine as my gaze fell on a gilded portrait of George Lockwood, the first Lockwood to live on the island.
He looked a lot like Nate with his square jaw and high cheekbones. His eyes were a cold shade of gray-blue, captured so perfectly by the artist that they looked like they were staring right at the viewer. A signet ring was visible on one of the hands folded across his lap, and it carried the same motif as the Lockwood family crest—an arrow with a line through it on a shield. That same family crest was inlaid in gold on the marble floor.
“I don’t think anyone’s here, but you need to stay quiet anyway,” Nate said, shooting me a warning look.
I nodded. I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth by screaming my head off and trying to attract someone else’s attention when I was being allowed the luxury of a shower.
Nate led me up the double staircase to the third floor and directed me down a series of hallways in the eastern wing. “Here,” he said, flinging open a door to reveal a large bathroom with light marble tiles and polished silver fixtures.
I stepped inside, pointedly avoiding the large mirror in front of me. I knew I’d be horrified by what I saw in the bright light if I looked in it. What I saw in the compact mirror earlier was bad enough.
Nate locked the door behind us and turned on the shower. “You can have ten minutes,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give me any privacy?” I asked as I removed my jacket.
He sneered and folded his arms over his chest. “Not a fucking chance.”
With a sigh, I removed the rest of my clothes, wincing as I pulled the jeans down over my injured leg.
“Let me check that before you get in,” Nate said, stooping to look at the huge bandage on my thigh. He carefully peeled it off and frowned as he gently ran a finger over the cuts. Over the last few days, they’d scabbed over.
“Looks fine,” he muttered. “Just don’t let it get too wet in there.”
He waved a dismissive hand. I turned away and stepped into the shower, letting out a long sigh of pleasure as the hot water tumbled over my head and shoulders. I couldn’t believe how good it felt to do something as simple as bathing.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I massaged my head, lathering my hair with shampoo as I imagined all the other simple yet wonderful things I’d never experience again. Cotton candy melting on my tongue at a fairground… cool water lapping at my feet at the beach… fresh air blowing through my hair… my sister’s perfume wafting through the air…
I’d never taste, feel, or smell any of those things again. I’d taken it all for granted.
I even took time for granted, always assuming there would be enough for everything I wanted to do. Now there was a clock on my life, and it was ticking down fast.
I washed my body twice, desperate to rid myself of the slimy, filthy feeling that my imprisonment in the tunnel had left on my skin. I could see Nate staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I avoided his piercing gaze, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. As long as I was in the shower, luxuriating in the sweet-scented steam, I felt like I was safe from him. As soon as I turned it off and stepped out, that sense of security would vanish, and I’d be back in the jaws of the beast.
“One more minute,” Nate called out, tapping on his wrist.
Shoulders slumping, I washed the suds from my body, visualizing my life slipping down the drain with them.
“That’s enough.” Nate reached in and turned off the water, leaving me shivering on the tiles.
I had no idea what was in store for me now, but I knew it would be bad. After all, I tried to kill him yesterday. He was bound to make me pay in a terrible way.
He tossed a white towel to me and watched as I dried myself. Then he made me lift my leg up so he could put a clean bandage on the cuts.
“I’m sorry,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
Never had those two words tasted so poisonous. I had to say them, though, or else my upcoming punishment would probably be even worse than I could possibly imagine.
Nate patted the bandage to make sure it was on firmly. Then he rose to his feet. “What are you sorry for?” he asked. His eyes were cold but somehow searing at the same time. “For sticking the knife in my chest, or failing to kill me?”
I nervously licked my dry lips. “For hurting you,” I said in a small voice. “I was just trying to protect myself. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Yes, I can.” A ghost of a smile played on his cruel lips as he stared down at me. “And now you can understand why I’ve been doing all of this. I’m trying to protect the world from you.”
“I’m not a killer. I swear. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought I had any other choice.”
His eyes narrowed. “You knew exactly what you were doing, Alexis. Knew right where to aim. The doctor said I would’ve died if the knife was just a fraction of an inch lower.”
“I know what it looks like, but that was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that,” I said. “I’ve never even stepped on a bug on purpose.”
“Sure.” He snorted and leaned down to grab my clothes. “Get dressed.”
“I’m not lying. I—”
Nate’s nostrils flared, and one hand went around my throat, squeezing until I choked. “Stop fucking testing me,” he growled. “Just do what I tell you.”
My pleas dried up in my throat, and I clamped my mouth shut. With clammy hands, I pulled on the clothes I was given earlier, moving as slowly as possible. I figured the longer I took, the more time I’d
have without punishment.
When I was finally dressed, Nate unlocked the door and stuck his head out, checking the hall in both directions. “Let’s go,” he said, motioning to me.
I followed him out of the bathroom and turned right. He led me down the quiet hall, heading for the staircase landing in the center of the third floor.
When we turned a corner, a blonde woman almost bumped right into us, and her brows rose as she stepped back and stared at us.
“Nate,” she said, eyes flickering between us. “Who’s this?”
20
Nate
Fuck.
Adrenaline flushed through my body, making my breath hitch in my chest. I thought Alexis and I were home alone, but I was wrong.
“Colette,” I said, arranging my face into a mildly surprised yet pleased expression. “I thought you were out.”
“I was. I just got back.” She looked between me and Alexis again, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So… are you going to answer my question? Who is this beautiful young lady?”
I grinned and slung an arm around Alexis. “She’s my girlfriend,” I said, leaning down to plant a kiss on the side of her head. Before I pulled my lips back, I muttered in her ear, so softly that only she could hear it. “Go along with this or I’ll go to the city and cut your sister’s throat.”
“Your girlfriend?” Colette said, eyes widening.
“Yup.” I tightened my arm around Alexis’s waist. “Colette, this is Alexis. Alexis, this is Colette.”
I watched Alexis as she bared her teeth in a semblance of a polite smile and held out her hand. I thought I saw a flash of pity in her eyes as she registered who Colette was to me—and Emilie—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Nate’s told me a lot about you.”
“Well, I wish he’d told me about you,” Colette said, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. She looked back over at me and playfully swatted at my chest. “Nate, why didn’t you tell me you were seeing such a pretty girl?”
I lifted a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “I thought I did.”
Colette returned to fussing over Alexis. “Such a lovely face, and those eyes… magnifique!” she gushed. She arched a brow in my direction. “Imagine the beautiful babies you two would have together.”
I stiffened. After the nasty pregnancy scheme Alexis pulled on me yesterday, hearing about the ‘beautiful babies’ we’d make together felt like a knife in the gut.
Then again, that could just be pain from the literal knife in the gut I received after the fake news.
It wasn’t like I wanted a fucking kid. But when Alexis told me the fictional ‘news’ yesterday, some primal region lit up in my brain, and reality blurred around the edges before disappearing altogether for a split-second. In that split-second, I saw a different life for us. A different world where we were different people.
I was just a regular guy without a fucked-up past, and Alexis was a beautiful girl with a sweet nature and no murderous tendencies. We met in a normal, wonderfully-boring way and continued our relationship as normal people would. When there was a pregnancy scare, our families—who were all alive in this world—came together and supported us, and everything was fine. Nothing could hurt us or break us. We were blissfully happy through sheer ignorance, and that made us so fucking free.
It was an envious glimpse into a world that had never existed for me and never would. I wasn’t normal. Neither was Alexis. We were sick, twisted fucks with black hearts and blood on our hands. That was the reality we were chained to, and nothing could ever change that.
I thought I was used to living in that darkness, but now the realization that something was missing from my existence was spreading inside me like poison, eating away at the edges of everything. When I blinked, I could still see Alexis smiling with her hand over her rounded belly, telling me I was hers and she was mine. Telling me she could be a different person if I could do the same.
Shit.
It had to be the painkillers. Dr. Paxton warned me they could have some weird side effects, including confusion, delirium, and even bouts of euphoria.
“Colette, I need to talk to you about something for a minute,” I said, pasting on another smile. “Privately.”
“Oh. Of course.”
“I’ll be back in a sec, baby,” I said to Alexis. I leaned down and kissed her again. “Remember what I said about your sister,” I added in a low voice.
She swallowed audibly and nodded. I stepped away and took Colette aside.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, forehead crinkling.
I furrowed my brows. “Not exactly,” I said. “Alexis has had a really tough time lately. Some guys from Blackthorne have been massive assholes to her for the last few weeks. She’s basically on the verge of a breakdown.”
Colette gasped. “That poor girl,” she said, one hand fluttering at the base of her throat. “Who would bully someone like her? She seems so nice.”
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “We haven’t figured out who’s behind it all yet, but they’re making her life hell.”
“Poor thing.” Colette glanced over at Alexis. “Tell me her favorite meal. I’ll cook it for us this evening, and we can all have a nice—”
I lifted a palm to stop her. “Actually, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk about. She’s going to come and stay here for a few days, but you don’t need to do anything for her.”
“Oh? Why?”
I lowered my voice even more. “Like I said, I’m worried she’s on the verge of some sort of breakdown, so I think she needs some time to rest and recover. The less people she sees during that time, the better.”
Colette’s brows wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to let her stay in my room, and I’ll take care of everything. I’ll bring her food and clean things up for her. That way she only has to see me. I think it’ll be less stressful for her that way.”
“But I don’t mind helping out. It’s my job.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. I’m just really worried about her, that’s all. So would you mind staying away from that side of the house for a while and letting me take care of the situation?”
Colette nodded slowly. “Yes, of course, if that’s what you want,” she said. “It’s very sweet that you want to take care of Alexis. But if you need any help, you can always come to me. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Col.” I headed back over to Alexis and took her hand. “I think we’ll go for a walk now. Alexis is keen to check out the woods on the back of the property.”
“That’s a nice idea. The fresh air will be good for you,” Colette replied with a smile, looking at Alexis. “Anyway, it was very nice to meet you.”
Alexis smiled back at her. “You too.”
Colette headed down the hall in the opposite direction, and when she was out of sight, I dragged Alexis to the landing and directed her down the stairs.
“You know I could hear you talking to her, right?” she said in a sullen tone as we reached the second floor.
“So?”
“Why did you tell her I’d be staying in your room? Did you change your mind?”
“No, you’re still going in the bunker,” I said. “I just told her that shit so she wouldn’t wonder where you are all the time even though you’re supposedly staying here.”
Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded, eyes brimming with tears. “Right,” she muttered.
“Stop looking so fucking sad,” I said, tightening my grip on her arm. “You should consider yourself lucky. The bunker is a massive upgrade on the Blackthorne tunnels.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m so lucky,” she said, looking down at the polished marble floor. “I’m a prisoner to a psychopath who wants to kill me and everyone I love, but hey, at least I get a dusty old bomb shelter instead of a freezing old prison cell to sleep in until my death-day finally comes.”
I let out a short snort of amusement. “You know
, it’s amazing how you still manage to take an attitude with me after all the shit you’ve done,” I said, digging my fingers into her arm until she let out a yelp of pain. “Must be something to do with that narcissistic side most psychopaths have.”
I led her outside and over to the woods on the far western side of the estate. The air out here smelled of moss and earth, and with Alexis silent for once, all I could hear was the creak and groan of branches moving in the wind and the crackle of twigs and pine needles beneath our shoes.
When we were halfway to our destination, the sun came out from behind a cloud and filtered through the trees, dappling Alexis’s face and shadowing her eyes. With her messy long hair and pale skin, she looked like some sort of forest nymph. Untamed, ethereal, beautiful.
Stop it, I warned myself, tearing my gaze away. Last time I let myself fall for her wild beauty and hypnotic charms for even a second, I ended up in emergency surgery with a knife jammed inside me.
We stepped into a clearing and veered onto a well-trodden path toward a reinforced hatch made from corrugated metal.
“Here it is,” I said. I leaned down to lift the hatch up, revealing steep stone steps descending into the massive bunker. “Your new home.”
Alexis bit her bottom lip as she stared down into the darkness. I smirked and held out a hand. “After you.”
She briefly turned her head and looked at the surrounding woods. I could practically see her mind ticking over, calculating how far she could make it through the brambles and branches before I caught up with her.
“Remember, it’s not just your life at stake here,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you really want me to go after Sascha? Or Laurel and Ruby?”
She let out a shaky sigh and started trudging down the steps. I followed her down and flicked a switch on the left wall, illuminating the dusty gray space.
“There’s electricity down here?” Alexis said, eyes widening.
“Yeah. It’s powered by an old generator.”
“I guess you were right about it being an upgrade,” she said, casting her gaze around the wide passage. “It’s like the Hilton compared to that gross cell you had me in before.”
