Page 50 of Anchor

“Where are you, Taland?” I asked the room and looked at my phone again to check for the time, thinking I’d slept hours, but it had only been one. Madeline and Poppy were probably not even back yet, and so I was very confident when I put my robe on and walked out in the hallway.

“Poppy?” I called and knocked on her bedroom door. No response, so I opened it.

The room was dark. Empty. They were most definitely not back yet.

Letting go of a deep breath, I had a smile on my face all the way to the kitchen—also empty—and by the time I sat on the isle with a pack of Ben & Jerry’s in my hands, I had almost completely forgotten about the nightmare.

A moan escaped me when my tastebuds came alive. Strawberries and sugar and cold—yes, I’d forgotten the small pleasures life could bring. For so long now I’d been just surviving, just running from this or that, and I always forgot to just sit and breathe and enjoy the little things that I could enjoy—like ice cream in a dark kitchen at ten p.m. Small things, things that I could do even while I thought about Taland.

Because I always thought about Taland. His eyes and his smile and his scent and his hands, those lips of his and every little inch of his body—goddess, it was insanity how I missed him. How I craved him.

Even when I was done eating ice cream and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge—the reason why I came down here in the first place—I still missed him, craved him, yearned for him.

Going back to sleep was impossible. For thirty-three minutes I tossed and turned and tried to distract myself with all kinds of thoughts, tried to remind myself that I was all alone in the mansion, that Madeline and Poppy weren’t here. Nobody was, just the staff who were long asleep by now, probably.

Thinking that had always brought me peace and quiet, a calm I could never really understand since nobody ever came to my room or anything—except tonight it wasn’t working.

The thought of Taland refused to let me sleep. My heartbeat wouldn’t slow down, and I couldn’t stop imagining him all over me.

Goddess, I was so horny now that I’d had him again in the Iris Roe, it would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn painful.

Eventually, I gave up trying, stood up, and paced in circles in my room.

Eventually, that didn’t work, either, so I paced out in the hallway, forward and back.

And whenthatstopped working, too, I went to the stairway, to the other side of the mansion, to Madeline’s office and bedroom and lounge area.

Butshewasn’t here now, was she? I could go exploring in this part of the mansion—why was I so damn afraid of the idea? Why was I frozen there in front of the dark hallway wearing my pajamas, begging myself to turn back?

Taylor Maddison hadn’t been afraid to break into the fucking IDD Headquarters.

I wasn’t going to be afraid to take a walk in my grandmother’s side of the mansion no matter what happened to me next.

So, I walked ahead, knowing full well that I wouldn’t run into any guards when she wasn’t home. And the place was blissfully empty, the hallway twice the size of the one in front of our doors. Here there were only three—what she called a lounge room to the right, which was locked, her bedroom at the end, two gorgeous double doors behind which was a room the size of a small apartment. And on the left was the door to her office, which I hated with all my being.

I went for the bedroom first.

The lights were off, save for some small lamps at the corners of the giant room which had twice as many windows as mine looking out at three different parts of the estate. She had a bed and two desks and enough liquor to host a dozen parties on the two identical cabinets made out of glass and golden foil. She had a fireplace shaped like a lion’s head, four different kind of carpets on the floor, and I couldn’t see details other than the two doors on the far left because it was too dark. If I turned the lights on guards outside would notice, no doubt, and I was thankful for it. It smelled too much of Madeline’s perfumes here, intense and overly sweet, and I didn’t want to throw up all the ice cream I’d eaten.

I walked out and closed the door again. Even the idea of her presence was scary to me, and that’s why I considered skipping the office altogether.

Except I was here for a distraction, and I was going to get it because I needed to sleep. I needed to rest so that I could spend the whole day tomorrow searching for Taland, for those files. So, I opened the door of the office and looked inside, and I almost turned around and ran away.

Not that there was anything in there that wasn’t supposed to be, but the memories—of that night years ago when David Hill hadchosenme for his mission, and that day when Madeline saved me from the Tivoux brothers, then reminded me that she’d have to throw her armchair away because I’d made it dirty by sitting on it.

She had—only one white armchair remained near the coffee table on the side of her desk. Andthatjust pissed me off enough that I forgot my instinct to run away, and I stepped into the office instead.

Low lights in three corners of the room. Thick dark red drapes over the floor-to-ceiling windows. Paintings and gold and liquor bottles and so many fancy things, but then there was thatoval-shaped mirror she’d taken such good care of for decades and the record player as well.

I went to it as if hypnotized, pulled the lid open, turned the volume down, and I placed the needle right over the vinyl that was already in there.

The music started a moment later, and Madeline’s favorite tune filled my ears. Right now, it was exactly what I needed because nothing distracted me better than her.

And while the symphony played, I walked around the office slowly, carefully, and took in the details that I’d never dared to look at before. Just let my mind wander to how they were made and how long Madeline had had them, and whatI’dhave done with this office if it were mine.

The liquor bottles were gorgeous. The frames of the paintings, the drawing on the ceiling, the smallest details were exactly right, and I analyzed everything as the music continued to play. Right now, by some magic, it wasn’t making me feel on edge. It was actually a beautiful melody, and it was keeping me company like an old friend.

Then there were books.

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