I search all the guest bedrooms.
I search the library.
I search the kitchen, the dining room, the living room. I search the entire house but find no phone, no computer, no tablet. Nothing that can help me contact Waylon.
I grab a banana from the counter for energy, not bothering to cook anything while I think about what to do next.
My eyes linger on the door again.
The door that has remained locked the entire time I’ve been here.
It has to be locked for a reason.
My guess is a computer and phone sit on the other side of that door, maybe in Langston’s office.
I shove the last bite of banana in my mouth while I listen carefully, trying to determine if anyone else is in the house.
I don’t hear Amelia or Joel. I don’t hear maids cleaning. The house is eerily quiet.
I grin and pull a bobby pin from my hair while I walk to the locked door. Hopefully, it will lead to a phone, computer, or some way to contact the outside world on the other side.
There are security cameras watching me, but Langston is on a plane right now to God knows where, and Joel is probably passed out drunk on his bed, ignoring me.
I hated growing up with a group of monsters who knew how to hold a gun before they hit puberty. They also knew how to hack security cameras and break into any room.
I jostle the door handle and then insert the bobby pin, easily popping the lock.
I smile slyly when I open the door. I can’t believe that Langston didn’t use more than a simple lock to keep me out.
My smile is quickly wiped away at my realization. If he was truly hiding something important, something he didn’t want me to have, he’d have made it harder.
There is a long hallway before the second half opens up.
I gasp when I see the living space.
It’s big and grand—made of marble, quartz, and all the shiny things of a modern fairytale castle. The ceiling on this half of the house is double the height of the other side. The decor is 11th-century castle with a modern touch, not beachy, warm, and full of nature like the rest of the house.
But the biggest difference of all is how dark it is. There are windows, but they are all covered with heavy, black-out curtains. You wouldn’t even know you are on the beach in this half of the house.
A woman suddenly appears from deep down the hallway. I didn’t hear her because I was too entranced by the house. It’s like two houses in one. Two separate lives.
Why did Langston create a house that was half my dream and half this? Whose dream house is this?
The woman folds her arms as she stares at me wordlessly. She has short, choppy hair dyed bright red, so I have no idea what her natural color is. Her skin is toned and unmarked with scars or tattoos. She’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and dark jeans, not clothes one might wear while living in a beach mansion.
“Phoenix?” I ask, using the name I overheard Langston say.
She stares at me, sizing me up.
“I’m Liesel. I’m wondering if I can borrow your phone?”
On my last syllable, I’m tackled to the ground as if I was aiming a gun at Phoenix’s head or something.
“Get off me,” I yell as I try to break free of whoever tackled me. It’s not Phoenix, she’s still standing wordlessly a few feet in front of me.
“Don’t move,” Joel says. Suddenly, I feel the barrel of a gun against my temple.
I immediately stop moving, stop resisting, and let him pin me to the ground.
“Good girl,” Amelia says.
“Amelia?” I glance out of the corner of my eye and see Amelia holding the gun to my head, while Joel applies his full weight to my back.
She smirks at me.
“So, you really aren’t a chef?”
“Oh, I can cook. I just also know how to use a weapon.”
“Get up,” Joel says, yanking me to my feet.
“Is it really necessary to keep pointing that gun at my head?” I snark at Amelia.
She tilts her head. “We were told to keep you out of here at all costs.”
I roll my eyes. “You were also told to cook for me, and you were told to keep me safe. You’ve both already failed.”
I look between the two. “And I’m pretty sure if you killed me, Langston wouldn’t be too happy. Am I right?”
Joel grabs my hair and sniffs along my neck.
I freeze at his touch, my mind going back to all the times I’ve been tortured like this.
“Kill me, and Langston will kill you. I’m not afraid of you,” I say, keeping my voice calm and steady. They can try to intimidate me all they want, but they can’t kill me without dealing with Langston’s retaliation.
Joel twists my arm, hard. “We might not be able to kill you, but we sure as hell can punish you for breaking one of Langston’s rules.”
“Sweet dreams, princess.” Amelia hits me hard on the head. It’s the last thing I remember.
I lift my head and regret it immediately.
My head feels like a knife was jabbed into my forehead and then twisted around.
“Son of a bitch,” I groan.
I try to sit up more carefully this time, when I feel the tug of a rope around my wrists.
“Really?”
I glance around the room. I’m in Langston’s bed, tied by the wrists to one of the bedposts. Otherwise, the room is empty.
I doubt Langston is back from his expedition, so Joel and Amelia had to be the ones to tie me up.
I take careful inventory of my body as my breathing speeds.
What did they do to me?
I start at my toes and work my way up my body.
No broken bones.
No bruises.
My clothes are still on.
I exhale a heavy breath.
That doesn’t mean that they won’t do something to me—torture me, rape me.
I have to get out of here.
As much as Langston thinks he has his employees under control, I doubt he told them to knock me out or tie me up. Langston may like to threaten my life, he may torture me, but he’s a control freak. He won’t like his employees taking matters into their own hands.
I test the rope tying my hands together. It’s a good knot—the person who tied it clearly knows how to tie a knot. But they don’t know how to keep a woman like me tied up.
A woman who Langston tied up in the third grade after I stole his favorite Hot Wheels car and threw it in the river. I had rope burn for a week after that. Langston got in so much trouble from his dad. His apology involved teaching me how to get myself out of any binding. We practiced all summer until he could never use that power over me again without me being able to escape.
So untying a sailor’s knot is no problem for me. Joel could have made it more difficult if he hadn’t used a traditional knot and just tied me up any which way. That would have thrown me for a loop, made it more difficult to undo.
I’m out of the simple knot in three seconds.
I take a second to consider my options. Glancing out the window, the sun is just beginning to set.
I could barricade myself in the bedroom and hope Joel or Amelia don’t come check on me, but how long can I last? How long until Langston comes home?
No, I don’t want to be in this house.
I don’t know what Joel and Amelia planned after they tied me up, but I’m not going to wait around to find out. I head to the bathroom balcony and climb over. I scale down the vines, this time with more agility now that I know the easiest path down.