Twisted: A Dark Romance (Barrowlands Book 1)

by Esme Devlin

  But whoever is there—I want to speak to them.

  And since there are no longer cameras…

  I pull back the dresser to see if there is anything behind it. A secret door would be a bit too obvious, and right enough, one doesn’t materialize in front of my eyes.

  Maybe I could knock a hole through?

  I shift the dresser some more, so there’s enough space for me to crouch down behind it, and then I peel back a piece of wallpaper at the edge.

  The wall is old, and from the hollow sound of my knock, thin.

  Furniture shifts on the other side of the wall.

  That’s when I notice a piece of the wooden flooring has a knot in it. And that piece runs directly under the wall. Poking my finger in, I pull it a few times and manage to slide it out from under the wall.

  I lie down, my ear hovering above the gap created between the remaining two planks.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s you,” the female voice says.

  Me?

  “I heard you outside. With him.” The word comes out like it’s poison in her mouth.

  Instantly, I’m ashamed of myself. I want to get up. Go back to bed. Because I can’t face the thought of someone else knowing that I don’t hate him.

  But I’m not the girl who buries her head in the sand anymore.

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she replies. “I need your help.”

  My heart sinks, because I know straight away there is nothing I can do to help her. “I’m sorry,” I reply. “I don’t—”

  “You’re close to him,” she says, cutting me off. “Everyone knows that. They put me here days ago. One of the clients, he drugged me, and Baron doesn’t allow drugs. Ever. Andrei said not to worry, I was going to Utopia just as soon as I was clean. But it’s been days. I’ve been waiting for days. I just need to know if you can… find out when? I need to know how much longer I’ll be stuck here.”

  My heart is thudding in my chest. Utopia. Baron explained exactly what that meant when I first arrived here. Utopia isn’t real… it’s just a place in his basement where people are disposed of.

  She’s going to die.

  The girl on the other side of the wall, a girl who could easily be me—the moment Baron’s strange fascination wanes—is going to die.

  And she did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

  A wave of nausea comes over me as I think about what he did tonight. What I allowed him to do.

  No, that’s a lie. What I wanted him to do.

  And I did want it. Why? What would possess me to want a murdering psychopath?

  “Utopia’s not real,” I blurt out.

  “What?”

  I clasp my hand over my mouth while I try to think about this logically. If I can’t help her, then maybe it’s better if she doesn’t know that? Maybe that would be kinder?

  But she deserves to know. Maybe then she can bargain with him. With Andrei? Maybe she can plead to be allowed to go back to work?

  “It’s just a name for a room in his basement where he disposes of people.”

  The silence that hangs in the air between us is long and tense.

  Finally, the girl on the other side clears her throat. “I need to get out of here,” she says. “Please, you need to help me. We can go together.”

  “I can’t. We can’t. You need to plead with Baron. Beg him to let you stay. There is nowhere to run to. There’s nothing out there for women except more of this. It’s rape or death.”

  “Maybe, but there are better variations of it. There’s a place on the mainland—the Kingdom. It’s worse than this place, but you only have to work for five years before the King sends you to Utopia. The real Utopia. We just need to get out of here. You can help.”

  I lie here, hearing the beat of my heart inside my ears.

  Could it be true?

  Maybe.

  But who’s to say this King doesn’t do exactly the same as Baron?

  Who’s to say Utopia isn’t just a myth to get people to do exactly what powerful men want—just like the “curse” that stopped most sane girls from leaving the carnival.

  “How would we even get there? You said it’s on the mainland. You have a boat? You can swim? And even if by some miracle we made it off the island, how would we eat? Protect ourselves? It sounds beyond impossible.”

  The woman is silent for a long time. “We have to try.”

  I shake my head, forgetting that she can’t even see me. “Trying is pointless. Ask to speak to Baron. Beg him. Make a deal with him.” The next words stick in my throat, jealousy simmering inside me, but I refuse to recognize it and say them anyway. “He likes clever things. Try to amuse him.”

  With that, I put the floorboard back and shift the dresser back into its position.

  Sleep takes a long time to come.

  26

  Baron

  I’m beginning to realize that the only person I actually like having in my office is Sapphire. She just sits there, reading or looking at the fire or humming a little tune to herself.

  No stress. No aggravation. No unreasonable demands.

  It calms my mind.

  Not like Celeste with her insufferable pecking. Or Andrei with his constant problems.

  “He wants payment,” Andrei says.

  He’s sitting across the table from me. Celeste is at the far end, sipping on tea and watching us bicker like this is a day out for her.

  “I know,” I state calmly.

  Andrei leans back in his chair, clearly exasperated. “So how do you intend to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  Celeste lets out a snort, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Andrei. “Pay him!”

  Now I’m the one becoming exasperated. “I don’t.”

  He shakes his head.

  “I’m not concerned with Maxim,” I tell him. “The man is an imbecile. What’s he going to do? Fire a few human cannons at me? Spit fire? Damn my soul to hell for eternity with that ridiculous devil persona?”

  Andrei just sighs. He doesn’t laugh at my jokes when he’s in these types of moods.

  Always so serious.

  Celeste clears her throat. “Well, payment or not, we need to do something about him. He wants the electricity you promised or Sapphire. Since you shot the first option in a fit of rage and are now somewhat infatuated with the second, we need a third.”

  “What about the girl?” Andrei suggests.

  “Sapphire? Don’t be so ridiculous. Absolutely not.”

  He shakes his head. “No. The one who overdosed. I've had her holed up in a room recovering ever since.”

  I shake my head. “No. No, that won’t do. There was something special about Sapphire. He won’t take any old replacement.”

  “What was special about her?” Celeste asks.

  I shrug lazily. “Fucked if I know. He said he would tell me when I paid him. Besides, it’s not fair to use that girl. She’s served her time already.”

  “True,” Andrei replies thoughtfully. “I should arrange her transport.”

  “Yes,” I agree. “Yes, you should. In fact, you should go and do that right now.”

  Anything to stop him pestering me about that idiot Maxim.

  Andrei slides his chair back from the table and walks to the door.

  “I wonder what was so special about her,” Celeste says, almost to herself.

  I’ve often wondered the same. Yes, she has different colored eyes. And she is that strange mix of smart and stupid—naive and innocent yet still corrupted—that I find alluring. But I don’t think Maxim was talking about that.

  The pair of us sit in silence for a long while, Celeste sipping on her tea while I stare into the fire.

  It’s almost peaceful.

  Until Andrei returns.

  “The girl says she needs to speak to you,” he says, his head poking around the door while his body stays on the other side of it.

  I roll my eyes. This always hap
pens. They get scared when they realize they’re not staying.

  “Then deal with it,” I tell him.

  “I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say. It’s about Sapphire.”

  Instantly, my eyes narrow. “What could this girl possibly know about my Sapphire?” The girls who work here see Sapphire, but under no circumstances are they given the opportunity to speak with her.

  Andrei clears his throat, shifting nervously as he edges into the room. The girl follows behind him. What is he playing at? “She was… she was in the room next door to Sapphire’s.”

  “Really?”

  He should be able to tell by the tone of my voice that I’m not exactly happy about that.

  “I thought Sapphire would be in your room from now on. I didn’t—”

  “Oh, enough with such nonsense.” I train my masked face toward the girl. “Say what you came here to say.”

  The girl looks petrified. Quite right. She steels herself enough to take a deep breath before she begins. “I want to make a deal with you in exchange for my freedom.”

  Oh, she wants to make a deal?

  Maybe if she had actually spoken to my Sapphire, she’d know I only like deals when I think of them. “That’s not how this works. How about you tell me what it is you think you know, and I’ll decide if that information is worth a deal?”

  The girl bites down on her lip while she thinks about it. If only she knew she was getting her freedom regardless of what she does or doesn’t say. “We could talk through a hole in the floor,” she begins.

  Fascinating.

  “Sapphire was going to help me escape. She said Utopia is just a place in your basement where you take people to shoot them. But she was going to find a way out for us.”

  I scoff at her. “Ridiculous. Sapphire knows there is nowhere to go.”

  Celeste made sure of it. Guaranteed it.

  The girl shakes her head. “There are rumors. Rumors of the Kingdom.”

  The blood in my veins turns to ice at the sound of that word. Celeste puts down her teacup, watching me carefully. “And what, pray tell, are these rumors?”

  The girl swallows. “That you only have to work there for five years and then the King sends you to Utopia. The real Utopia. Not the… not the basement.”

  I nod my head once. How utterly brilliant of him.

  Or maybe not so brilliant. How does he give his clients a realistic experience if the girls know they’re only serving out their time?

  That’s the primary reason I keep everyone here in the dark.

  The more I think on it, the more I doubt the man even sends his girls to Utopia.

  “Interesting.”

  “Does that mean…” the girl begins.

  I dismiss them both with a flick of the wrist. Andrei already knows what to do with her. It will take time, but the wheels are in motion.

  And I have bigger problems now.

  The moment the door closes, I turn to Celeste. “She would still run from me if she could.”

  Celeste leans back in her chair, putting her fingertips together in a point while she deliberates her answer carefully. She’s quiet for so long I start to think she’s not going to say anything—but Celeste never has nothing to say. “Give her time.”

  “I’ve given her time,” I shoot back. “If she doesn’t fear me now, she never will.”

  Just then Andrei comes back into the room and returns to his seat. “Sent a man to the port to find out when the next boat’s due in.”

  I nod once.

  “What are you going to do about Sapphire?” he asks.

  I look down at the table and let out a breath. What am I going to do about Sapphire, indeed.

  “He’s still trying to make her scared of him,” Celeste says.

  My head flicks up. “And you are still trying to find a romance where there isn’t one,” I tell her defensively. “Maybe you should go back to reading your books.”

  “Why don’t you just tell her?” Andrei suggests.

  Celeste nods. “Would it be the worst thing?”

  I look between the both of them, head switching back and forth like a pinball. It’s at times such as this that I miss having peripheral vision. “Am I the only one here who hasn’t completely lost his mind?”

  “You feel something for her,” Andrei says. “Anyone else, and you’d have put a bullet in her head already.”

  My stare rounds on him. “And who the fuck says I won’t do exactly that?”

  I don’t like his insinuation that I won’t.

  Andrei just laughs. “You can fool the rest of the world, Baron, but you can’t fool us.”

  I hold my hands up. “What, exactly, is it that you think I’m trying to fool you about?”

  “You love her,” Celeste says.

  I scoff. The warm air bounces off the inside of my mask and rushes up my cheeks. “It’s long past your bedtime.”

  “Admit it, and I’ll go to bed.”

  “I will not admit anything of the sort,” I reply. “And your obsession with making me is childish.”

  “You don’t need to admit it,” Andrei says. “It’s as clear as day.”

  “Is that so?” I stand up from my chair. “She’s in her room. Fetch her right now and take her down to the basement.”

  “Baron,” Celeste begins.

  I don’t let her finish.

  “Enough,” I state. “She can’t be trusted. I’ve been too kind to her. I’ve indulged her. Spoiled her. She’s become my weakness, and I won’t have that. Our work here is too important.”

  Andrei glances over at Celeste, who gives him an encouraging nod, and then once again leaves the room to do my bidding.

  “You’re not thinking clearly,” she states.

  I laugh at her. “Incorrect. In fact, this could be the first time my thoughts have been straight since we set foot in that shit-heap circus tent.”

  She lets out a sigh. “You will lose her. She’s not your…”

  “Say it,” I dare her.

  She says nothing.

  “Do not begin what you don’t intend to finish.”

  “She’s not your mother,” Celeste snaps back, her eyes turning cold.

  There’s a long moment while the statement hangs in the air between us. We don’t speak of such things. Ever.

  “You are indeed correct. A fascinating observation, if ever there was one.”

  Celeste rolls her eyes. “Mark my words, you will lose her.”

  I shake my head, slowly. “She’s already lost me.”

  27

  Sapphire

  I don’t know how long I’ve been down here.

  Hours?

  Definitely.

  Days?

  Maybe.

  I don’t know.

  I’m not really sure about anything.

  If it was Baron’s intention to have me lose my mind, then I’m entirely convinced it’s working. Not that I wasn’t already halfway there.

  My cell—because that’s exactly what it is—comprises four walls with two chairs. It’s the same as the one he took me to that night during one of his games.

  There are two candles on opposite sides of the walls, and they’re replaced every time someone brings me food. The bucket in the corner gets emptied at the same time.

  There is nothing to do in here except count pieces of gravel on the floor and try not to think too hard about anything. Thinking is dangerous. Thinking takes me to dark places.

  Is death something, or is it nothing?

  Is there a point to this? To being alive?

  How did we even come to be?

  What am I? The answer is a human, but it’s not. There’s something else. Something that makes me, me.

  A soul?

  But what is the point in a soul if there is only nothing after death?

  You can get lost in those thoughts. Deeper and deeper until you begin to doubt you’ll be able to claw yourself back.

  That’s when I go back to c
ounting stones.

  The rattle of the bolt pulls me from my thoughts, planting me firmly back in the room. Like always, the man takes up almost all the space inside the door. Like always, he is black on black and surrounded by more black. Like always, it seems to follow him around like a cloak. The reflection of the candles, visible in the metal of his mask, is the only part of him that provides any warmth.

  “I could have made you a queen” is all he says. No sweet girl. No playful queries about how much I did or didn’t miss him. This isn’t good. And this isn’t a game.

  I can almost feel the chill in his voice, like a physical thing.

  He says nothing else as he enters the room, kicking the door closed behind him and extinguishing the nearest candle between two fingers.

  I watch him closely, my stomach churning while everything else stays rooted in place. The second candle goes out much like the first.

  Darkness. As easy as that.

  The sound of metal hitting concrete makes me jump. The mask.

  He’s only ever done that when he wanted to be gentle, but the atmosphere in the room has me doubting that is the case tonight.

  I hear him sit down on the wooden chair on the opposite side of the room, just as he did the last time we were down here together. He terrified me then, and I guess we’ve gone full circle.

  “Come here, Sapphire.”

  Every ounce of my being is telling me not to. He’s not himself. He’s using my name. He sounds… strangely stable. And that has me more scared than any of his manic episodes. “No.”

  He sniffs, as if he’s not offended. “I’m not going to punish you.”

  My stomach drops through the floor because that sentence tells me, blatantly, that he knows what I did. I suspected it, but now I know for sure. The woman must have told him. Hell, he practically warned me they’d throw me under a bus the first chance they got on that very first night watching the arena. “What’s going to happen to her?”

  I think I already know that, too. But I want to hear him say it.

  Instead, he merely laughs. “I’m not conversing with you from opposite ends of the room. Why is it you can be brave for others, but not me?”