Page 87 of Ruthless Lullaby

And now?

Now I’m in the midst of a criminal organization.

And I’m not sure I can ever escape from it.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Mindy

I can't stay here.

Just thinking about being stuck here with Maron makes me sick. Who is he anyway? Do I even know him? I signed a contract without really knowing who I was getting involved with.

I need to get the hell out of here. ASAP. No matter what.

But first, I must find the exit. Because I still have no idea where I am and where I came from. My heart is beating a million miles an hour and I can't catch my breath as I’m wandering these crazy hallways. This goddamn maze is never going to let me out. How long has it been since I left the bedroom, anyway? Must be over an hour. Maybe two. Is Maron back to bed, looking for me?

The thought makes me sick.

I turn one corner, then another, my eyes scanning desperately for any sign of an exit, or any hint of a way out. But there's nothing here except an endless sea of closed doors and dimly lit corridors, stretching out before me.

Still desperate, I start to descend a random set of stairs. My feet carry me down and down into the bowels of the mansion. Maybe there's a staff exit here - I think to myself. Maybe I can find a way out through the service quarters and slip away unnoticed in the chaos of the kitchen or the laundry room.

But as I emerge into the cellar and take in the sight of the damp stone walls and the low, oppressive ceilings... I realize that I've only succeeded in getting myself even more lost.

Shit.

The cellar is a maze of its own, a twisting, turning labyrinth of storage rooms and utility closets. I pass a kitchen, a laundry room, looking for a door that could lead somewhere, anywhere, out of this place.

But it’s no use. Every turn I take, every door I try, only leads me deeper into the maze.

As I wander through the damp, chilly labyrinth of the cellar in my silk robe that provides very little protection against the biting cold, I feel a new sensation rising up within me. I need to pee again. Didn't I go just about an hour ago? Has it been longer? Not that it matters much. I have to find a bathroom soon.

I start opening doors at random, my desperation mounting with each fruitless attempt. A storage room, a utility closet, a wine cellar... but not one damn bathroom. If I can't find one soon, I'll have no choice but to pee on the floor. The thought alone is humiliating.

I open the next door and heave a sigh of relief. It's a cramped little bathroom shoved in the basement corner. Unlike the fancy bathrooms upstairs, it only has a dim lightbulb and a grimy sink that probably hasn't been touched in ages. But it's a bathroom nevertheless. At this point, I'll take what I can get.

I rush inside, slam the door behind me, and fumble with my robe to get it open. I then sit on the toilet, and let out ashuddering sigh as I empty my bladder. I even close my eyes for a moment to savor the sensation of release.

But my relief is short-lived. As I straighten up and move to the sink to wash my hands, I feel a new sensation rising up within me.

Nausea.

But not just any nausea. This is an overwhelming, all-consuming nausea.

I barely have time to lean back over the toilet. Before I know it, I'm retching wildly as my stomach brings up the contents of my gut. A minute later, it happens again. More vomiting. All while gasping, choking, my eyes streaming with tears.

It must be the stress. The terror, the adrenaline, and the horror of what I've just witnessed.

I cling to the toilet like a lifeline, my knuckles white and my breath coming in ragged gasps. It takes about ten minutes for my nausea to subside. Once I’m feeling better, I quickly clean myself up at the sink and focus my mind on my main mission: get the hell out of this mansion.

I wipe my face with the edge of my robe and approach the door to open it. But to my dismay, it won't budge. I make another effort but to no avail.

Shit!

I’m washed over by a feeling of unease once again, but I convince myself it must be a temporary malfunction. Or maybe I just have to push a little harder. So, I try again, but the handleremains immovable. It is clear that the door is locked from the outside. I'm hopelessly trapped.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, Mindy!

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