Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Why did they have to make such a public spectacle of this damn thing?
I felt like we had regressed to the days of the Coliseum, where the locals cheered as fighters marched in the arena to be slaughtered.
Except this was Falston’s dirty little secret, and everybody turned a blind eye to how the participants were never seen again after entering the maze.
Small mercies that Bale informed me that all the spectators tapped out soon after the start, since no one could see or hear what was happening between the rows. They all just waited to see if the annual participant showed up at dawn, which no one ever did.
Arriving in the courtyard, it was packed. It definitely looked like Falston was preparing for the equivalent of a championship football game, a season finale. Lucky me, I got to play the part of the star quarterback.
Within seconds of arriving, I was swarmed with people all wishing me good luck, some of whom I didn’t really know. When I was given a shooter of cinnamon whiskey, I didn’t turn it down. Liquid courage had its time and place.
As promised, there was no sign of Bale or Corbin.
They were likely already somewhere in the expansive corn maze, biding their time.
Part of me wished they were here, even if it would do nothing to change the situation.
I didn’t want pretty words telling me lies, but I wanted the strength of their presence and their honesty.
Turning to see if I could track down whoever had been handing out shots of booze, I came face to face with my family.
“Harlow! We are so proud of you, you’re going to do great,” my mom proclaimed with the most pride I’d ever seen from her.
The fact that she had even turned out for this shitshow was surprising.
For a woman who was always knee-deep in her work, a small-town event usually ranked low on her priorities.
She pulled me into a hug that felt warmer than normal, or maybe that was the whiskey talking. Then, it ended just as quickly when her phone began ringing in her pocket.
“Oh, I have to take this,” she murmured as she stepped away to take the call.
My dad stood there with suspiciously wet lashes. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin.” He patted me on the back before he chuckled. “Oh, fiddlesticks, bring it in.”
His embrace enveloped me in a nearly suffocating hug that lasted long enough to make me think he might not ever let me go.
“Thanks, Dad,” I whispered as I gave him a big squeeze before pulling back.
Then, just like that, he was gone. Someone flagged him down, wanting to talk about adopting his program. Guaranteed that would be a three-hour conversation alone.
That left just Beth and me standing there looking at one another. She moved suddenly, colliding against me as she threw her arms around my waist and her face into my shoulder. It rocked me back a step, but I held firm in my stance.
“Don’t end up like Amanda,” she whispered brokenly.
Holding her tight, I whispered back, “And leave you to navigate Dad’s next big life coaching program he comes up with? Please.” I teased, sounding more put together than I felt.
She gave a watery laugh as she looked up at me. “He’s already floating names. This morning, he was considering calling it the P.O.P.P.I.E.S. system.”
I cringed, not even wanting to know what all those Ps stood for.
“After this? We’re going to have another coffee date,” I promised.
Her finger jabbed me in the shoulder. “You better! You owe me so many details.” Beth offered up a small smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Gather ‘round! We are about to get started!” The mayor shouted from the far end of the courtyard where the entrance of the corn maze loomed.
“That’s my cue,” I said, giving another quick hug to my baby sister.
On my way over to Mayor Dennison, the crowd parted to give me wider than necessary space. Each step forward was another piece of my armor building up internally.
I took my designated spot next to him as he reiterated the rules, all of which I ignored. The only things I needed to know were what my two guys had told me.
Looking up at the moon, I swore I saw the shadow of a crow circling above. Corbin? Probably.
“Good luck, young lady. Whenever you are ready, the maze is yours.”
Damn right it is.
Turning to look at the gap between the stalks, I braced myself. There was no turning back, only through. The cheers and applause behind me were nothing but white noise.
Cutting through all of it, a voice whispered, carried on the tail of a gust of wind. “Here, kitty-kitty.”
Definitely Bale.
One more sharp exhale, and I crossed the threshold.
Let the chase begin.
My sneakers kicked up dirt as I began running. Each step forward was an attempt to move faster than my heart was racing. The first few turns pulled me into the depths of the maze, guiding me towards where inevitably I’d have to make a choice.
Trust your instincts, not your eyes.
The thought played on a loop inside my head.
Above, I could hear an ominous caw tearing through the night air. I didn’t look up, I just kept moving forward. The further I could get through this giant puzzle, the better off my chances were.
Coming to the first choice, right or left, I took the path that put me further from the start. No maze was going to be easy enough to draw you right back to where you began. Especially not one that was designed to lead you to your death.
The first ten minutes of navigating the corridors of corn left me with a false sense of confidence and safety. My feet slowed, needing to catch my breath.
I could have shifted into my feline form, but I wanted to reserve all my energy for the last leg of this deadly race against time. This was only stage one: placement. Stage two, I’d inevitably run into the guys. And stage three, that was where everything was on the line.
Despite my brisk walking pace, I kept moving, refusing to stop my progress for something as stupid as oxygen in my lungs.
A rustle of corn leaves behind me put me on edge, turning me around to see what had made the noise.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing but shadows and crops.
Turning around again, what had been a straight path moments ago was now a T in the walkway.
Fuck. This is what they meant by the corn couldn’t even be trusted.
Approaching the decision point, I tried to push through the wall of corn, but there was no give. It unnaturally refused to let me push through. I’d have better odds against a steel wall.
Taking a deep breath, I turned left.
The moonlight shone on the exposed dirt. A message was carved into the earth itself:
YOU RUN.
WE HUNT.
YOU LOSE.
Mental fuckery at its finest.
I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat. My head was screaming to bolt in the other direction. Instinct told me to push through.
Instinct won.
Picking up the pace again, I jogged down the path. My steps stomped over the taunting message.
Each chosen turn after that point, I made a gut feeling alone. The sound of wings beating and dark laughter unsettled me, but I refused to backtrack now.
Hitting a dead end, I cursed.
I turned my back to the wall of corn to observe where I had just come from. Every section looked the same, leaving my positional awareness in the maze skewed.
Before I could decide to go back to the last turning point, a familiar set of arms grabbed me from behind. A hand clamped down over my mouth as I was swallowed up by the same stalks of corn that had blocked my path seconds ago.
The dry leaves protested, rasping against my jeans and the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt. It felt like going through an automated car wash—towers of bristles scrubbing at me, trying to strip me clean.
What may have been seconds stretched into an eternity, leaving nothing but the hiss and whispers of vegetation shifting all around me.
When the night air finally greeted me again, I was nearly tossed into another pair of waiting arms. The collision was jarring against a solidly muscular frame that towered over me.
Looking up, I saw the shadows of Bale’s scarecrow face lurking beneath the brim of his cap. The glowing eyes looked hungrier than ever for something darker than the secrets these fields held. Something more primal.
Stage two. Desire.
“Caught you, little kitty,” he rasped.
I could feel Corbin’s human form press against my back, his hand sliding across my stomach possessively. The scent of the clouds and turning leaves radiated off him.
Nipping at my ear, Corbin whispered, “You ready for us, baby girl? Cause we’re more than ready to have you.”
The silver rays of the moonlight cut a path between Bale and me when he stepped back, stripping off the grey wool vest overtop the dark blue button-up.
Despite the worn leather gloves on his fingers, he worked every button of his shirt with ease to reveal the taut muscles of his chest in this form.
Every ridge and line of muscle was more pronounced with the dark tan of his skin.
His hands hovered at the belt of his navy pants.
“Think you can handle seeing all of me?” he asked with a glimmer of amusement in his intense gaze.
Corbin dipped both hands underneath the hem of my shirt, lifting it up and over my head.
Keeping my eyes locked on Bale. “I’ve already seen all of you, Bale. All the parts that matter.”
Working his belt open, his eerie smirk showed teeth that were sharper than a wolf ready to clamp down on the throat of its prey.
“Go on and show her what it means to be ours in these fields,” Corbin encouraged him.
While Bale unlatched the leather from the waist of his pants, hands shoving all the fabric away from his lower body, he never broke eye contact with me.
The rest of my own clothes and shoes were stripped methodically from my body by Corbin. Though I hardly noticed once Bale’s pants cleared his hips.
My eyes grew wide with awe and trepidation at the sight of him fully bare and proud in his shifted scarecrow form before me.