Page 32 of Hell Breaks Loose

By the end of the hour, I’ve explored a fair share of the grounds and the house.

It’s as luxurious as anything I’ve ever seen. And it’s a freaking fortress outside.

Guards galore.

A coded gate, digital pads on all the doors.

For now, I just document all of it in my head, taking notes, making mental notes of any patterns I notice in the rotations, the way the guards carry themselves.

They all seem calm enough, but there’s an edge there.

Could be discontent, impatience. I’ll have to wait and feel out the mood among the ‘troops’.

I’m halfway back to the main hall when I realize how exhausted I am. Figures.

Haven’t done this much walking in weeks.

Back in my room, I’m only on the couch a moment before I doze off.

“Miss Hellena?” a gentle voice hums.

“Hmm?” I stir, flinching at the crick in my neck.

Gingerly, I sit up, massaging my sore muscles.

“I did not want to disturb you, but it is nearly time for dinner.” Margaret leans into my field of vision, smiling politely from the door.

“I’ll eat in a bit. Thank you.”

“Um. I took the liberty of laying out an outfit for you.” She gestures, a little more insistently this time, toward the bed. “You are looking better already, I can tell. You need to eat to keep up your strength.”

“Uh, sure.” I stand, crossing to the plush comforter where she laid out a casual gown, flowy, a deep rust color. “This is beautiful, Margaret. Where did all of these clothes come from?”

“They belonged to the daughter of the previous owner. She rarely spent time here.”

At least Marco didn’t get any of them for me.

And what are the chances that she was a big girl like me?

Of all the things to go right for me…

“I think I’ll just eat here tonight.”

“I am sorry, but that is not really an option tonight,” she says a bit uncomfortably, looking away.

“Ah. Don’t feel bad. He ordered me to come eat with him, huh?”

“Requested. But…”

“Yeah. I get it. Have they treated you well, so far?” I ask, genuinely curious how things have gone since Marco clearly took this place from the owner.

“The men can be a bit stiff and scary, but the staff are fine. Mr. Vice pays us well to stay on, even if some of us are a bit nervous about the guns in the house.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that. You shouldn’t have to live in fear.”

That’s rich coming from me.

And the concerned look she gives me tells me she doesn’t buy it for a minute. Either that I have a say in the matter or the fact that I’ve been a prisoner in this house’s basement for weeks.

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