Page 120 of Plaything

“You too,” I returned the compliment, taking a glass off his tray. A drink and something to occupy my nervous, twiddling hands seemed necessary. “Thanks.” I turned to introduce Vincent, who was long gone and stood in a group of men I didn’t recognize.

“I’d better get back to work before the big man sees,” Anthony widened his eyes. “Find me later, okay?”

The thought of being alone in a crowd of people I didn’t necessarily know made me uneasy. Still, I couldn’t exactly tell him to linger with me. He was working. So, I gave him a nod. “Keep them coming,” I joked, tilting the glass towards him.

When Anthony left, I walked further into the house, seeing dozens of familiar faces—mostly unfriendly ex-wives and step-siblings.

“Odette,” his voice always hit me like a cannonball. It was loud and booming as it reached my ears.

Turning to meet his significant presence, I peered up at his clean-shaven face and expensive suit. “The house looks great,” I complimented, but I couldn’t force myself to smile at the man.

“Yes, I hope so,” he contended, and I shrunk. “After dinner, I have something we need to discuss. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t pull one of your vanishing acts before that time. Do you understand?”

I’d been in the house for five minutes, and anxiety already buzzed through my body. I nodded. “Okay.”

He disapprovingly looked me up and down slowly before he clenched his jaw. “Stand up straight; you look like a hunchback,” he scolded in a whisper before turning to leave.

I thought I was standing up straight? Pushing my shoulders further back, I took in a breath and began wandering again. I was homesick already.

During my wandering, I spoke to a few staff members I was close with, some of my step-siblings who didn’t resent me, and a few other small ‘hi how are you’s here and there.

Surprisingly enough, my wandering actually had a destination. It’d been an hour since Vincent and I arrived, and I finally dared to wander upstairs—specifically, to an area of the house I’d hopefully only seen in my dreams.

Seeing Charles’ wing of the mansion was something I needed to do for my own sanity. I was clinging to hope that the room would look completely different from how I’d imagined it in my dreams. If not, I didn’t know what I’d do.

So, I slipped away from the crowd. Dinner was a short fifteen minutes away, giving me enough time to pop in and out without anyone noticing my absence. My hands were shaking as I neared the double doors that were always locked.

Peeking over my shoulder one last time, I rested my hand against the handle. Be unfamiliar. Luckily and surprisingly, the doors were unlocked. A part of me was hoping they’d be locked—in case I didn’t want to know the answer.

When the doors creaked open, I was instantly met with a gut-wrenching feeling that made me take a step back. Every nerve in my body shouted, ‘Don’t go in that room!’. I’d never been so certain that I shouldn’t be somewhere before, and yet, I took a step forward.

My stomach was in knots as my eyes glanced around the room. I didn’t have to take more than a step into the room—I knew what the room contained. From the fireplace, the tan walls, the four sofas, and the middle of the room where I’d stood before, I knew that fucking room.

The urge to vomit filled me, and I closed the doors as if that would make anything better.

The dreams were memories.

My breathing was loud as I stood, my hands firmly gripping the handles. Indents were surely left in my palms from how hard I squeezed them.

“Odette Whitlock,” a man’s voice chided from behind me. A man that had a blurry face. I’d heard the voice before—recently in my dreams. “What a treat.”

My arms crossed over my stomach as I turned to look at him. The man was dressed in a suit—as were all the other men here. He was as old as Charles, and some would consider him handsome. I knew better. I didn’t recognize him without his face blurred, and I knew I’d likely never met him outside Charles’ wing.

“I haven’t seen you since you were... gosh, maybe this tall?” He held his hand a few inches above his waistline. His hands were in his front pockets as he lingered a few feet away from me. “You probably don’t remember me,” he said casually.

My lips were sealed. Even if I had something to say, I didn’t think I could. A ball lumped in my throat, and bile was rising.

At my lack of response, he slowly shuffled nearer to me. “I’m Lestat Evermore, I’ve worked with your dad for a very long time,” he introduced.

“What are you doing up here, Lestat?” I questioned suddenly, surprising even myself. He was blocking me from leaving. My only way of getting back to everyone was getting past him.

He tilted his head up. “I saw you step away from the crowd. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. You should probably get back,” I tried to sound intimidating, but my voice was shrill.

He looked at the ground for a moment before he chuckled. “Are you worried people will think we’re up to something if we’re both missing?” He interrogated.

My legs felt like they weighed a million pounds, and I was unable to move them. Frozen in terror, just like I had been in my dreams, just like I had been in Mr. Ridley’s office.

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