Chapter 14
14
I ’m half expecting to exit the grandiose doors of Noire House and find a giant shadow looming, waiting for me to emerge. Except, as I step onto the caramel-color gravel, it’s just my thoughts for company as I begin walking the route back to the house where I’m being temporarily held.
Like I’m some sort of storage item that apparently no one knows what to do with until given further instructions, I’ve been shoved in the spare bedroom.
It’s infuriating, the way I entered into that space with Grey, thinking I knew how things would pan out. Only, it all turned on its head within moments. His closeness, the way he seemed to care while also being irreverent and flippant and downright exasperating at the same time, left me spinning.
Thank fuck he’s given me room to breathe by getting some fresh air and a chance to be alone with the chaos inside my brain.
Not that this means I won’t try to escape at some point in the future, but for now? For today? I’m fucking exhausted.
I don’t have it in me, and at least I know they’re not going to attack me or murder me in broad daylight .
I think.
Even if I wanted to run, I’m now also caught needing to know that I haven’t been infected with some incurable disease thanks to that hellish place. I’d quite like to know the results of those blood tests being run by the doctor who saw to me just before. Probably good to know if I’m about to be struck down by a case of tuberculosis or typhoid.
So I meander my way through the grounds of this vast, ghastly estate. It’s like someone vomited wealth and pompousness everywhere I look. The building itself is so huge the effort to look up and take in the topmost levels hurts your neck, and there’s so much ornate stonework and iron that nothing here would look out of place in a gothic horror. From looking at the outside, it conjures up images of ghostly figures floating through corridors at night with candlesticks and sunken faces. What I’ve seen of the interior shows that there have been modernizations, but for all intents and purposes, still retains the grandiosity of something built in a bygone era.
It’s reminiscent of the types of residences built by kings and queens centuries ago to house all their courtiers and attendants. I wonder if that’s what this place once was. Was it the foundation of whatever strange entity this enduring secretive society is?
As I continue along the gravel road that veers in the direction of my internment, I see sprawling, immaculately groomed grounds. An intricate maze of hedgerows. A garden filled with statues and fountains and geometric patterns of formal gardens.
Although I’m trapped here, for now, I let myself make my way lazily along the path. Everything is so eerily quiet, as if the trees themselves know not to make a sound in this place. My shoes crunch against the loose gravel, forming the only repetitive noise, while all around me, the Noire Estate looms somber and still .
The further I walk from the mansion, the more I feel the flush hit my cheeks, and the cool wind whips at my hair. I might be dressed in nothing more than a black sweater and leggings, but I’m warm enough and being outdoors without having someone watching my every move feels better than I expected it to.
While I keep on anticipating the arrival of a vehicle to chase me down, nothing appears.
So, I slow to a stroll.
If they’re going to allow me this, I’m going to take every second possible to soak up the chance to be alone with my thoughts.
The sky is beginning to tinge with pink and orange streaks as I eventually make my way to the house. My stomach started rumbling an hour ago, and after spending the better part of the afternoon wandering through some of the woods and poking around the forest, I’ve worked up a mighty appetite.
In fact, this is the first time I’ve truly felt like devouring a steaming hot meal since arriving here.
My skin feels warm and slightly damp with the effort of so long outdoors. It’s a deliciously satisfying sensation, one where my muscles ache slightly, and I can’t wait to stand under a long, hot shower.
An amazing smell fills the house, greeting me as I quietly slip inside. Something rich and spiced, and holy fuck, my mouth is watering as I slide the door closed behind me .
Whatever it is, I want to devour several helpings immediately.
Even back at home—before my life turned to shit—I would never have something as incredible as this. Cooking for one, on a budget of pennies, doesn’t exactly leave you with the most exciting options in the culinary drawer to choose from.
This is certainly not ramen.
When I approach the kitchen, everything appears quiet. There’s no sign of whoever has been cooking up this dreamy scent, and for a second, my face falls. Maybe there’s nothing here for me to eat at all. Perhaps all this is just another way to fuck with me, to taunt me, and all I’ll be left with is an empty belly and a cold bed to curl up in with gnawing hunger as an unwanted companion.
I don’t have time to dwell on that thought, because the man I’ve been feeling more lost without than I care to admit, suddenly appears from the direction of the bedrooms.
He’s freshly showered, and as he walks in, wearing sweats and a black tank, I nearly stumble.
With both arms raised above his head, he ties his damp hair back into a messy bun, and Jesus help me keep my mouth from gaping. That action reveals a strip of adonis belt and dark hair disappearing into those low-slung pants.
I have to swallow hard. Just the sight of him like this, after the scraps of detail I’ve learned about this mysterious giant, is extremely dangerous indeed.
His brow furrows as he takes in the sight of me, and I see his eyes flit to the clock on the microwave.
“I walked.” Suddenly, my long-winding-meandering route back to the house feels like the wrong decision.
However, this is new territory now, being here alone with him like this. Whereas before, all my interactions were colored by my own obstinate thoughts and foggy brain screeching like a damn parrot at how frustrated I was with him for not speaking to me. Now, I understand.
“Did Grey let you know I was walking back?” I venture.
His features form a deeper scowl of sorts as he looks me up and down. Not in a sexual way, but like he’s appraising an antique painting for disrepair. Then, he nods once.
Why does that feel like the air wants to rush out of my lungs? This? This moment right here feels as though I’ve just unlocked the secret passcode to this man.
He continues past me and opens the microwave, pulling out the covered dish inside and showing it to me before slamming the door shut and punching in a couple of minutes on the number pad.
Your dinner.
Now I feel really shitty. Had he cooked for me and been waiting for me all this time?
No. Surely not. It’s not exactly late evening, though the sky has deepened into a grayish-purple outside now.
The man moves faster than I expect. Instead of staying, or bothering with anything more than showing me where my meal is, his broad shoulders are leaving the room before I realize it.
“Wait—” I race after him. My short strides have to work in overtime just to catch up.
His head turns slightly, on hearing me nipping at his heels, but he doesn’t stop. I’m chasing this man through the house, not exactly sure what I intend to do once I catch him, but it feels important for me to do this right now before I leave it another night.
“Angel, please wait a second.”
At the sound of me saying his name, he finally pauses. He turns and fills the doorframe to his room with all that bulk and solidity to him, barring me from seeing past the threshold. The way he stands there reinforces just how unlikely it is that I’ll have any hope of seeing into his inner sanctum, the one that I stole the briefest glimpse of last night.
“I—” Just like that, I’m out of breath, and my pulse speeds up now we’re enclosed together like this. My throat works a swallow as I try to come up with the words I should have, by all rights, practiced over and over by now.
“Why did you stay away?” Is what I blurt out. Stupidly landing on the thing that has been eating away at the back of my mind when I know instead, this moment should really be an apology first, then questions.
Although, these men live their lives back to front and upside down, so maybe I’m already more comfortable here than I want to acknowledge.
His head tilts to one side.
Silence and the dull thud of my heartbeat are the only forms of reply I get.
Of course. What the fuck else was I expecting?
“Shit. Sorry. I’m not good at this, am I?” My teeth worry my bottom lip for a moment as I try to think how to rephrase things. At least he’s polite enough so as not to slam this door in my face.
From the direction of the kitchen, the microwave lets out a series of shrill beeps.
Angel shifts his weight and jerks his head in the direction of where my dinner awaits.
“I’ll eat in a moment, thank you. I’m assuming you cooked? You made that?”
A barely perceptible nod.
“I just… I want to try and understand… were you angry with me? Is that why you stayed away?”
Those dark eyes narrow ever so slightly. God, it’s hard to read him without knowing what those tiny reactions mean.
“I wanted to say sorry. I didn’t know, and I know there were some awful things that came out of my mouth, and it’s inexcusable.”
He’s back to being a stone monolith in front of me. It would be hard to tell if he’s even listening to me if not for the heavy weight of his stare.
Ok, this is officially going nowhere. I have to wipe my clammy palms against my thighs because I’m nervous as shit and have no idea what this man thinks of me.
The microwave decides at that moment to send out another set of piercing reminders that my meal is heated and ready.
Angel’s nostrils flare, and I know he’s losing patience. His strong jaw tics, and just as he goes to turn and push through the doorway, I have to blurt something out before this moment vanishes.
“Do you use sign language?”
Fortunately for me, the man pauses. This time, a shake of his head. No.
“Ok.” I exhale. Feeling like I’m somehow getting somewhere while also floundering helplessly in the shallows at the same time. “Is there a way you prefer… texting, or something like that?”
He consumes me with a gaze that says everything. He’s not going to tell me, and my heart sinks in time with my shoulders. Even if he were able to, this man doesn’t want me to communicate with him.
He certainly has no interest in attempting to do so with me.
Which is when he makes everything really fucking simple by disappearing through the door, leaving me standing in the hallway. Alone.