Page 42 of Covenant

I love it and I hate that I do. Anything that is his is automatically bad. He trapped me here. He forced me.

I’m not in this willingly.

And yet you are. You made your choice the minute you put that paper under that brick.

My eyes close and I listen to the rain, the sound of it hitting the water, the wind rustling the trees. Cedar and oak, hemlock and spruce. Were they here originally or did he pay to have them planted?

How much did he spend on this place?

I don’t know, but hell if it isn’t nice. That’s the only thing I’ll give him. It’s fucking nice.

“Fuck. Me,” I murmur when I realize that the anger is subsiding for a moment and I feel calm. The first time in ages.

I don’t want to feel it, want it to disappear, but it’s there.

That is until I hear footsteps in the distance and I turn to see a figure making its way toward me. A man, judging by the set of the shoulders and the gait. It’s slightly dark out, just the lights from the pathway lanterns illuminating the space as the thick rain clouds consume the property.

It better not be him, I think. It better not be fucking Matthias.

But as the man approaches, I notice the work boots and the worn rain jacket.

A sliver of disappointment pulses through me.

“Oh shit,” the man murmurs when I stand up and make myself known. “You scared me, lurking out here.”

“I wouldn’t say lurking, just sitting.” I watch as the man moves closer, his gloved hands settling on his hips as he steps into the gazebo. He’s built, tall and lumbering, kind of like the trees in the distance.

“You must be the husband,” the man says, his eyes assessing me from under his hood.

“Guess I am. And you are?” I ask, trying not to seem snotty, but knowing it comes across that way all the same. I can’t help it. I’m fucking pissed about this whole situation.

“Corbin. I manage the gardens out here. I was just coming out to see how the gazebo was fairing with all the rain. The wisteria was hard to grow.” I stare at him, and he shrugs. “I don’t want them to die. We’ve been waiting for these to grow for a long time.”

“They seem fine,” I say, and he nods.

“Seems they are.”

I cock my head as he walks over to the other side of the gazebo, glancing out over the pond.

“Did Matthias send you to find me?” I finally ask when staring at his back answers none of my questions.

“That’s not my job. I just work with the plants.”

I don’t believe him, but I let it go. If he is subtly messaging Matthias that I’m here, then so be it. He can do whatever he likes. And part of me is a little pissed it wasn’t Matthias out here looking for me.

Not that I want him to find me.

We’re no longer children playing hide and seek. I don’t want to be caught.

“Just so you know…the ground gets really slippery when it rains like this,” Corbin explains. “Better watch out with those shoes of yours when you make your way back. They look fancy. Don’t want you to slip and fall.”

The way Matthias would subtly mock me if I returned to the house covered in mud. I won’t let him have the satisfaction. I’ll walk like I’m made of glass.

“Thanks for the word of warning.”

“Thought you could use it.”

“Any other advice?”

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