“Is it possible to get lost in it?” I asked softly.
He snapped his head to look my way.
I wasn’t going to let his steely stare unsettle me. “The maze?” I clarified.
“I suppose you could get lost in there.”
“How long have you lived here?”
He pushed to his feet, but he didn’t answer.
I made a gesture to say I’d borrowed his clothes. “Mine were wet.”
Dark ember eyes shimmied over me, recognizing his shirt.
“I needed something to wear.”
“Already arranged.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll give this right back as soon as I have something else to wear.”
It was the way he studied me, the way his narrowed eyes took me in. From my newly washed hair to my feet, he seemed as close to fascinated with another person as anyone could be.
“Have you heard from my father?” I held my breath.
“You have access to the west side of the house. I’ll remain in the east.”
“I’m not good with that. I mean, I get turned around easily. You’ll have to say left and right.”
His brow furrowed as though mulling this over.
“I’m good at other things,” I defended myself.
His back straightened as he pointed. “East.” His arm swung in the other direction. “West.”
Cassius was as stubborn as he was mean.
He lay his guitar on a couch and continued toward the door. “Let’s keep our distance.”
“It sounds terrible,” I called after him.
His back stiffened. Then with long strides and a straight back, he headed in my direction. His casual T-shirt and jeans did nothing to deflect from his intimidation.
He paused beside me.
My stomach fluttered.
His fingers were close to brushing mine. The curl of his hand was dangerous. He knew it. I knew it.
A part of me felt like if we touched, it would set the world on fire with how wrong it would be.
“Your guitar,” I made my point. “Sounds like crap.”
“I was tuning it up.”
That made me feel guilty for a nanosecond until I remembered I’d been kidnapped. “Did you kill your lawyer?”
“Go investigate the maze. With any luck, you’ll get lost in there.” He moved away from me, heading back out of the room.
Guess I was dismissed.
“I’m allowed out there then?” I said, and he turned to look over his shoulder at me.
“I don’t expect us to get along. What I do expect is for you to realize I hold all the power.”
“Which way’s the kitchen?”
“You’re hungry?”
“Yes, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He pressed his fingers to his temple. “There’s food in the kitchen. Help yourself to any of it.”
“I’m allowed to eat then?”
His hand rested on the door handle. “Head south. I sent the chef home. You’ll have to take care of yourself.”
“Didn’t want your chef to see what you’re up to?”
“Actually, I’m keeping him safe from you.”
That was a cheap shot. “Cassius, what exactly did my dad do to you?”
He raised his arms to say look at me, this is what he did to me.
This.
Then he walked out.
Despite him trying to direct me, it was still easy to get lost in this place. Trailing along the hallways and now and again peeking into rooms just in case there was a phone he might have forgotten was in there.
Recognizing a series of black and white photos that we’d passed by when he’d carried me back into the house, I retraced my steps until I reached the door we’d come in, surprised to find it open.
Outside, taking in the warm afternoon breeze and only now grasping the scope of this property. The woodlands stretched beyond the left side of the home. This, the route I’d taken when I’d bolted. All the cars were gone now. Even the lawyer’s vehicle with its smashed window was gone.
Right over there on the grass, twenty feet away, was where I’d witnessed him being shot at. The grass was soft as I trudged over to the scene of the crime. The place where he had landed face-first after the second gunshot had rung out through the air. I knelt to examine the blades of grass for any droplets of blood.
A pair of shoes came into view, and I followed them up—
Gasping, I shot to my feet.
“We meet again.” It was the lawyer.
“You’re okay?” A rush of relief swirled through me at seeing my hero still alive.
He squinted when he said, “Still have ringing in my ears.”
“They shot you?”
“More of a warning. Cassius’s men are headstrong.” He was calm. Too calm, and it felt wrong to stand here and talk when hours ago he’d literally tried to smuggle me out in the early morning.
My throat tightened with trepidation. “Did he hurt you?”
“Only my pride,” he muttered.
“You were allowed to leave?”
“Perk of the job,” he said more to himself. “How are you doing? Settling in?”
“I’m not a guest,” I snapped. “I don’t want to be here.”
“It’s temporary.”
“Last time I saw you, you were trying to save me.”
“Let’s just take one day at a time.”
“Did you tell my dad I’m here?”
“Listen.” He glanced toward the house. “It’s complicated.”
Which sounded like a resounding no.
“You need clothes.” He frowned at the shirt I was wearing.
“What’s your name?”
“Ridley.”
“You need to get me out of here, Ridley.”
He went to speak and then looked toward the house—Cassius was standing there in the doorway watching us both. Cassius turned and went back into the house. Ridley gave me a gentlemanly nod and followed him inside.
Snapping my attention back to the woods. The same pathway up ahead I’d taken in the early hours when I’d bolted.
My feet were already taking me in that direction. Heart pounding and my mouth dry, the soles of my feet were tortured by bracken once again. Pushing foliage out of my face as I burrowed further in. I was grateful it wasn’t swampland.
Grateful, too, that this time there was no glass to brush out of my hair. Ridley was clearly being paid a shitload of money to just pretend what had happened was no big deal. He could have been killed. Instead, he’d just strolled inside that house like it was a lazy Sunday and the man inside wasn’t a kidnapper.
There, ahead, was that tall tree I’d climbed, and it welcomed me with its vast branches that stretched wide. My palms crashed against the bark as I edged once more to the low-hanging branches. I’d soon find my footing again.
Pausing, chest tight with the realization if Cassius caught me again, I’d probably be locked in the cell or worse. I’d certainly not be allowed to roam the house. Thirst and hunger confused my thoughts that railed on making no sense.
Trying to think clearly, see things from a different perspective.
You’re wasting time—precious time that you need.
Again, my foot came up on the low-hanging branch.