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I bring the cup of tea to my lips as I settle into my usual morning spot, the window seat. The sprawling grounds look a little different today, though. Busier. The men that guard the perimeters have doubled, and when I craned my neck to look to the left of the Museum, I could make out the tops of military-style trucks coming into the grounds.
What on earth is going on?Even from my ivory tower, I can feel something brewing in the air. Hopefully, something that helps me escape.
There’s a timid knock on the door. One that definitely can’t belong to the hands of that monster.
“Come in,” I say. Orna appears with a tray of pastries and a wide grin.
“You like it?” she asks, nodding to the kettle on the bedside table.
“I love it,” I gush, truly thankful for anything that breaks the monotony of my daily routine.. “Thank you so much.”
“I have more good news today” she chirps, striding over to fluff up the bed pillows.
My heart surges. “I’m going to be free?”
“Not that good, I’m afraid. But Lorcan is going to be tied up at the office for a few days. He said you’re allowed out into the garden for two hours every day. You can also eat dinner with me in the main house.” She claps her hands together. “Great, right?”
I hate that I feel excited at the idea of an inch of freedom, no matter if it’s a false reality. But I also hate that I feel mildly disappointed that I won’t be seeing Lorcan for a few days.
Orna lowers her voice. “You won’t need a chaperone, either.”
Now, I really do feel excited. The possibility of escaping has increased drastically. “Really? I can just… be on my own?”
She winces and glances out the window. “Well… security has picked up quite a bit here, as you might be able to tell. There’s a whole army descending on the estate. And guess who has to feed and house them all?” she grumbles. “Anyway, I guess Lorcan didn’t see the point of needing a chaperone now.”
I follow her gaze. “What’s going on, anyway?”
“Who knows,” she replies, tone laced with bitterness. “Us women just change the sheets and wash the dishes.”
Now, I turn my attention back to her. “Would you want to be involved though?” I ask, gesturing down at the solemn-looking man in an all-black uniform, AK-47 across his chest. “In all of this?”
“There’s more to the Quinn family than being a seedy mob, you know?”
“No, I didn’t know. All I keep hearing is scary Russians and cocaine supply.”
“Yeah, that’s part of it. But Quinn Venture Capital is pretty legit. It’s our—well, I guess, their—investment company. It injects cash into a lot of the local businesses.”
My mind immediately goes to Mickey’s strip club, with its oiled-up stripper poles and sticky floors. And then to Mickey himself handing over a bag of fake cash and ending up dead a few moments later. I guess the whole exchange makes more sense now—but I wouldn’t exactly call it legit.
“Anyway,” Orna says, slicing through my thoughts with a sweep of a hand. “What do I know? I’m nothing but a stupid woman.”
Annoyance prickles at my skin. “Don’t call yourself that, Orna. You’re not stupid, you just haven’t had a formal education. There’s a big difference. I bet you’d pick up any skill you like in a heartbeat.”
She flashes me a warm smile on her way out, stopping by the door. She twirls the key between her thumb and finger and says, “You know, I think we’d be friends if we hadn’t met in such unusual circumstances.” She lowers her gaze and slips out, locking me in the tower behind her.
A pang of emotion stabs at my chest. She’s right. I don’t have many friends apart from Nellie, but if I met Orna at Stanford, I know we’d be close.
I chow down a couple of melt-in-your-mouth croissants before showering and slipping on a pair of linen pants and an off-the-shoulder blouse. When Orna comes back half an hour later, I have a book tucked under my arm and the sunglasses she bought me balancing on my head. She takes me in with a grin, before leading me down to the lobby and cracking open the steel door for me. Sunlight floods my face, smelling like warm freedom. “Enjoy,” she says over her shoulder as she makes her way back to the house. “I’ll come and get you when lunch is ready.”
I slip off my sandals and let the damp morning grass tickle my toes. The sun warms my back as I stroll through the grounds, even flashing a small smile at gardeners and the new security guards.
Despite the extra protection around the grounds, I feel almost light, and I can’t put my finger on why.
Then the memory of Lorcan’s mouth burning against my throat floods into my brain. Suddenly it’s too hot out here, the grass is itchy and the hedges towering from every angle are suffocating.
The reason I felt lighter, almost human, was because the Devil isn’t here sucking the life out of me.
The realization brings me back down to earth with a thump.
