Page 153 of Devil's Bargain

TWENTY-FIVE

April.

I watch his sports car drive away and disappear past the trees that line the driveway. Up here in my bedroom, I feel like Rapunzel. If only my hair was long enough so I could drop it down and let a prince climb up to rescue me. But there is no prince, and my hair is only past my shoulders. It amazes me how it’s still attached to my head after all the hair-pulling I’ve endured this last week. It should be in clumps on the floor by now.

I turn and sweep my gaze over the big room. Everything is cream, the walls, carpets, and the bedding. The only splash of color is my pink hair. I wish I could say my clothing, but I’m still naked. It seems he prefers me that way all the time.

I rush over to the chest of drawers and root through it. The top drawer is filled with lacy lingerie, but the other drawers contain clothing.

Looking at it now, after he told me that he purchased me, the clothes make sense. He’s prepared this room for me. Well, too fucking bad for him that I don’t have any plans on staying here, locked up like a princess in a twisted fairy tale. I’m not for sale!

I pull on a baby blue summer dress. It’s not something I would ever buy for myself, but it’s my size and fits perfectly. I don’t care what I wear if it gets me out of here.

I find shoes too—a pair of strappy leather heeled sandals. On my way out, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look ridiculous. If my friends saw me now, I would never hear the end of it.

The house is silent except for the bush trimmer outside as I hurry down the hallway. I press my back against the wall and peek around the corner. There’s something about this house that I can’t put my finger on. It feels non-lived in as if the owner has been away a long time and only just arrived back.

I sneak downstairs, careful not to make the steps creak under my weight. Voices filter from the kitchen. It’s the servant, Mr. Chapman, and some female voices.

What are my options now? I don’t know where I am, so what will I do? Make a run for it and pray I’m not too far from a nearby town? With my luck, a cougar will get me. Fuck it! I don’t have any other choice.

I don’t dare sneak past the kitchen, so I tiptoe the other way. Everything about this house is big. The individual rooms have more space than my entire house back home. Everything is old wood and antique furnishing, which adds to the feeling that this house has stood unoccupied for a long time.

“Come on, there must be a door leading out somewhere!” I whisper under my breath and pop my head into another room.

I strike gold.

At the back, behind a piano, is a patio door. Stepping inside, I run over to it, past a mahogany display cabinet with porcelain dolls that watch me with beady eyes. This place gives me the creeps.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I find the patio door unlocked. The voices in the house are moving closer.

I quickly slip outside and crouch down below the window.

Trees. So many trees. I can’t go for a stroll down the main road that leads to the house. That would be foolish, and wandering into the woods would be unwise. Who knows where I would end up? I don’t have any money on me.

“I’m so fucking stupid!” I whisper and dash for the trees. “So fucking stupid!” I duck beneath branches and move further in until the trees shield me from view. I turn to look at the big house. It speaks of old money. The kind you don’t acquire overnight.

It was lucky I made a run for it when I did because the gardener walks around the corner, whistling with the hedge trimmer in his hand.

I retreat deeper into the woods. We can’t be that far away from town? This is when I wish I had paid more attention during my trips here with Scott and Jared, but my mind was focused on everything else. The drive itself seemed unimportant at the time.

My best bet is to walk along the tree line and follow the road. It will lead to the main one eventually. Maybe I’ll get a sense of where the fuck I am when I reach it?

I’m lucky it’s summer. At least I’m not cold.

I hurry along, careful not to catch the branches, but despite how vigilant I am, I still scratch my arms. A bird caws somewhere to my right.

“What the fuck are you doing, Apes? You usually have a plan.” I rub my hands over my face. “I’m talking to myself again. It just gets better and better! You agree to become your math teacher’s prostitute so you can pay for your bills. Then find yourself sold to some weirdo out in the woods.”

I laugh to myself and duck underneath a branch. The road is only just visible from here. I wonder how long it will take the staff back at the house to realize that I am missing and phone Salt and Pepper. Where the fuck am I going to go where he can’t find me?

I fist my hair as the magnitude of this clusterfuck dawns on me. “I am so screwed!”

I don’t know how long I walk, but by the time I finally reach the main road, my legs hurt like a bitch, and the sun is starting to set. I still don’t know where I am, but I spot a sign for Hedgewood, and it makes me want to dance with happiness and relief. I set off walking again.

I don’t want to be out here in the open when Salt and Pepper comes back, so I move deeper into the forest. This way, I’m not visible from the road.

I wish I had my phone on me—some way I could message my friends. They must wonder where I am by now.

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