Page 64 of Promise of Punishment

I keep my head down and let her guide me from the room. We walk down the hallway at a slow, torturous pace. The farther away we get from Wes, the better I feel.

“You can take the blindfold off now,” Noah says.

We’re in the staff hallway. A smidgeon of relief passes through me. With every step, the desperate need to escape pushes the nausea farther into the background. Soon, I'm running to my room.

“What are you doing?” Noah hurries to keep up. “Are you going to barf?”

I make it inside and lock the door behind us. Bear is asleep on his bed on the chair by the dark window.

I grab my bag and start filling it with everything.

“Fable! What are you doing?” Noah demands.

“Packing. I need to leave here tonight, and you can’t tell anyone I’m gone.”

I empty what little amount of clothes I have in the closet.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” She comes up behind me. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. Yes. But not like you think.” I dump the clothes in my other bag. I don’t have any more, but I still have stuff to pack that I used to keep in cardboard dressers and bins, which I tossed, thinking I could stay here.

What to do?

Trash bags! I get a big black one from the cabinet in my bathroom and stuff my towels and toiletries inside. It dredges up the memory of filling trash bags with Mom when we were kicked out of Hale Manor. Orchestrated by the earl’s pig of a son who once again has found a way to ruin my life.

“You need to explain this, Fable. I can’t help you if I don’t know what happened.”

“I’ll explain later. When I’m gone. Promise.”

“Fuck this. I’m getting Camila.” She stalks toward the door.

“No!” I shout, startling Bear awake. “She can’t know. No one can.”

I explain everything to Noah, leaving out only the details of the sex I had with Wes. Every time I think about it, my stomach clenches.

“That’s certifiable fuckery, for sure. What would motivate him to go to such extremes to hurt you, especially when he’s the one who screwed you over years ago? You literally saved his fucking life! You should have left him for dead.” She kicks a drawer closed, causing Bear to jump to the floor and hide in his carrier under the chair.

“Shh.” My gaze darts to the closed bedroom door. “No one can know I’m leaving.”

“I’m leaving now too. There’s no way in hell I can stay working here after what he did to you. I hate him!”

She turns for the door.

I leap in front of her. “Wait. Just wait a second, please.” I give her a moment to calm down. “I appreciate you wanting to leave because of this, but I need you to cover for me here—at least for a few days—until I’m somewhere safe. If Wes has done all this to mess with me, imagine what else he might do? I need to be long gone, and I need a good head start in case my leaving pisses him off, and he retaliates further. You understand?” I nod, praying she does.

She rests her hands on her hips and exhales, her shoulders softening. “What if he questions me about you? He has to know we’re friends.”

“Would Camila let him interrogate you and make you feel unsafe?”

“Not unsafe, but she’d help him get information if he wanted it.”

Guilt twists in my gut, and I slump. “It makes me sick that I ruined this for you.”

She puts her hands on my shoulders. “You didn’t ruin anything. If anything, I caused this by inviting you here.”

I shake my head vigorously. “You didn’t know. How could you?”

“Where will you go?”