Chapter 20 Nova
NOVA
His nose trailed down the side of my face, and for a moment, I forgot myself. This time, there was no coercion. This time, I didn’t tell myself I hated him. This time, it was different. It was just the two of us, alone in the maze, both on the same page.
I tilted my head, and his lips skimmed over my throat, his breath hot on my skin.
I melted into it, but suddenly, the heat was gone, and he was stepping away, a tortured expression on his face.
“You’re engaged. We can’t—”
Gravel crunched beneath a shoe somewhere behind me—a distinctive, unmistakeable sound.
Alarm flashed in Jay’s eyes, and then he moved, quickly pulling me towards him and then into the darkened path of the maze at his back.
He motioned for me to merge into the shadows before he turned around, moving back to lean against the stone bench.
Carefully crouching down as best I could in my dress and heels, I held my breath, waiting.
“Attwood.”
I clamped my hand over my mouth. Anton.
It was difficult to angle my head so I could see the centre of the maze without moving my body, but I managed to peer around the hedge enough that I could just about see Anton standing in front of Jay.
“Volkov,” Jay said. “Were you looking for me?”
Anton laughed without humour. “No, Attwood. I was looking for my fiancée. Have you seen her?”
“Why would I have seen her?”
The gravel crunched again, and I watched as Anton closed in on Jay. I could only see Jay’s back, but I could see him squaring his shoulders, standing tall and strong as he faced Anton down.
“Hmm.” Anton hummed. “I don’t know…I’ve been spending the whole night chasing her around. Coincidentally, you keep disappearing too.”
“I’ve been with Arson. Ask your guards.”
“Yet, I saw Daniel in the ballroom before I left.”
Jay tapped his foot impatiently. “Are you trying to accuse me of something? If you are, just come out and say it. As you can see, Nova isn’t here.”
Anton studied him, his face impassive, before he made a show of slowly turning on his heel, looking all around the centre of the maze. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Jay snapped. “Fucking hell, Volkov. It’s not my problem that you can’t keep track of your fiancée.”
“My fiancée…who you want.”
What. The. Hell?
There was a long, tense silence between them.
I didn’t dare to breathe, but my heart was pounding so hard I almost wondered if they could hear it.
My calves were beginning to cramp in my crouched position, and I carefully placed my hand on the ground to help balance myself.
Gravel bit into my palms, but at least I was no longer in danger of toppling forwards.
“What I want is irrelevant. We both know that. Do you have a point, Volkov? Why are you here? Would it make you feel better to hit me, maybe? You wouldn’t be the first person tonight.”
What?
Anton’s brows flew up. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Never mind,” Jay muttered. He took a step forwards. “But while you’re here, why don’t you tell me why your family has been showing up at my family’s clinic? My dad paid off that debt a long time ago.”
“No one has been showing up.”
“They have. My sister told me.”
When Anton’s brow furrowed, Jay shifted uneasily on his feet, and I was immediately on edge. After a moment, though, Anton’s expression cleared. “Perhaps they are checking up on things because of Operation Foxglove.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“An investigation into rural crime. You haven’t heard about the regional police task force?”
“Rural crime.” Jay swore under his breath. “Yeah. I heard about that. My family—”
“Your family will come to no harm.” Anton’s voice dropped as he moved closer to Jay. “If they are careful. Don’t do anything stupid, Attwood.”
Jay inhaled sharply. “Yeah.” We both understood the double meaning of Anton’s words, and with that reminder, my heart started pounding again. How did he know Jay was interested in me? Had he seen us? Surely not, because there would have been consequences.
“Accompany me back to the party. I would like to introduce you to my family.”
“Uh…”
“It’s not a request.” His hand went to his suit jacket, and he casually lifted it. I caught a glint of metal. Was that a gun?
“Are we comparing sizes?” Jay lifted his own jacket, and I could only assume he was having a metaphorical dick-measuring contest with Anton. I rolled my eyes.
“Bringing a knife to a gunfight?” Anton smirked at him. “That’s not very wise, Banks.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen me with a knife,” Jay shot back, and Anton actually laughed. My eyes widened. This was a man I’d seen knock someone out cold for daring to talk back to him.
“Yes. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He jerked his head towards the maze exit. “Tell me more about your acid torture method on our walk back to the house.”
Acid torture method?
There was no way Jay could stall without it looking suspicious, and with a sigh, he swiped his champagne flute from the ground and followed Anton out of the maze.
I waited to make sure they’d gone before I rose to my feet, brushing gravel from my hands. My joints ached in protest from the cramped position I’d been holding for so long, and I was just about to stretch them out when I heard the distinctive sound of footsteps from the maze path to my left.
I froze in place.
Someone else was out here.
Someone who had potentially seen and heard everything.
Climbing up the last of the iron stairs to the first-floor level of cells, I turned right towards my room.
The wing was silent, with official lights-out having happened over two hours ago, but the low-level security lights gave me enough illumination to see where I was going.
My steps were slow, my feet aching from spending hours in heels, and all I wanted to do was get out of my shoes and clothes and go to bed.
When I reached my door, my toe knocked against something. Glancing down, I noticed a small package propped against the frame.
I bent down, my fingers closing around the package, the brown paper crinkling beneath my grip. I turned it over in my hands, my heart rate slowing as I ascertained that it wasn’t a threat—at least from the outside. What it actually was would have to wait until I was inside the safety of my room.
I entered my room, closing and locking the door behind me, and carefully placed the package on the bed.
I’d have to shower in the communal showers in the morning—I was far too exhausted to face them now, so I changed into my nightclothes, brushed out my hair, and did my usual cleansing and moisturising routine in front of the small wall-mounted mirror.
The window bars behind me, prominent in my reflection, looked almost cosy with my battery-powered fairy lights wrapped around them.
I couldn’t help thinking about the day I’d first arrived here, so scared and shaken by the ominous thick iron covering the windows and the cold, austere atmosphere.
It was funny how quickly I’d managed to get used to my surroundings.
How I’d assimilated to the point where they barely even registered anymore.
When I’d cleaned my teeth and wrapped a fluffy blanket around my shoulders, I climbed onto my bed, settling myself cross-legged with my back against the cool stone wall and the package in front of me.
I undid the twine and unfolded the paper to reveal the contents.
The first thing I saw was a small, plain, rectangular piece of card. On it, written in blue ink, were three words.
Happy birthday, Nova
My gaze dropped. Beneath the card was a book. My mouth fell open, my shaking fingers carefully tracing the contours as I took in the precious, irreplaceable item I held in my hands.
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron. As I opened it, I noticed two things. The copyright notice denoting it as a first edition, and the folded piece of paper inside, with my name written on it.
Lifting the paper from the book, I unfolded it.
It was a letter.
I read it once. Then again. Then, later, when I was in my bed with my phone torch providing the only source of light, I read it once more.
Then, I sent a text.
Me:
Meet me at the barrow tomorrow at midnight
The reply came through just a few minutes later.
Jay:
No. I’m sorry. It’s not a good idea for us to meet anymore