Chapter five
Aria
The room Saint had left me in was plain and sterile—white walls, devoid of any decoration or warmth. The only furniture was a single bed with crisp white sheets, a white comforter, and in the corner, a plain wooden chair. The bathroom held nothing but the barest necessities. A bar of soap, a towel, and a small, unmarked tube of toothpaste. There was nothing to tell me where I was or to help me escape.
I waited for Saint to come back. Five minutes, then ten, before I reached into my bra and pulled out my phone. My fingers trembled as I tapped the screen. No signal. No Wi-Fi.
“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, jabbing at the screen as if I could force a connection. Nothing. It was useless here. This place—wherever I was—was blocking it. Of course, it was. Saint wouldn’t leave me with any chance of escape.
I glanced at the door. It was unlocked. I’d checked.
Either Saint was careless, or he was playing some kind of twisted game. It didn’t matter.
I shoved my phone back into my bra and slipped off the bed. He’d removed my shoes, leaving me in my shirt and biker shorts. My feet were cold against the floor as I moved toward the door. The hallway outside was silent. Too silent. Not a single sound. Where were his guards? It felt wrong, like I was walking into a trap. But I kept going.
I turned left, spotting a living room to my right. It wouldn’t be wise to head out the front door.
I crept out, staying low and quiet, scanning for cameras. There were none that I could see. I listened for footsteps, voices, anything. Each step I took, I checked my surroundings. No sign of anyone. It was the middle of the day. Where was everyone?
I made it to the back door. It wasn’t locked.
My heart hammered in my chest. Was this it? Was I really free?
I didn’t hesitate. My heart pounded like a gavel as I swung the door open and stepped onto a patio. The cool, damp air hit me, and I squinted against the bright sun. Ahead of me lay a garden, surrounded by high hedges that encircled the house on all sides. My only option was to move forward, into it.
Something in my gut told me to turn around, to go back inside. Escape wouldn’t be this easy. But I needed to get far enough away to try for a signal.
I could see the highway from where I stood. Even if I couldn’t get a signal, if I could just get there, I could flag someone down.
I doubted Saint would hurt Jason or Isabella right away. He’d come looking for me first—if they weren’t already dead.Please don’t let them be dead, I thought.
Instead of following my instinct to go back, I stepped off the patio and hit the ground running.
I ran, my feet pounding against the soft grass. But the closer I got to the highway, the more something felt wrong.
I ran into a dead end.
I stopped, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I looked around. There was no clear path ahead. I should’ve been able to see a way through, but the hedges seemed taller, denser, as if they were closing in on me.
I turned. The path I’d just come from didn’t look the same anymore. It was as if the garden itself had shifted, twisted, like it was alive.
I started walking back the way I’d come—at least, I thought I did. Every turn seemed to lead to another dead end. My heart pounded faster. Panic clawed at my throat. I had to get out of here.
But no matter how fast I ran, or which direction I went in, and no matter how hard I tried to keep my bearings, the garden seemed to shift around me.
To make matters worse, the rain started to fall—slow at first, then heavier. It soaked through my clothes, plastering them to my skin. The winter cold bit into my flesh until I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. Everything felt numb; my thoughts began to jumble.
“Fuck!” I cursed loudly, wiping the rain from my face. I wanted back in that room Saint had left me in. But the rain didn’t stop. The garden wouldn’t let me out.
I stopped even trying, breathing heavily. I tried to gather my thoughts and came to the conclusion that me being out there had been purposeful. Saint had let me escape so I’d get lost. I should’ve known when it seemed too easy to leave that house.
I sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. The rain pooled around me. I clutched my knees, shivering, and stared at the ground. Now I was stuck, waiting for Saint to come and find me. Waiting for him to drag me back. That smug motherfucker had won.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breathing, to clear my mind. I couldn’t panic. But I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. This was insane. How could he do this to me? How could I be so fucking stupid to think it would be that easy to escape him? My father would be ashamed.
I knew Saint’s ass was probably somewhere watching, even though I couldn't find the camera's. People like him didn’t build mazes if they couldn’t enjoy the prey let loose in them. He was probably looking out from a window in his house.
I exploded, jumping up, my voice echoing, hoping he would hear me. “Saint!” I shouted, my hands flailing as I kicked at the bushes in frustration. “You think this shit is funny? I’ll fucking kill you!” I screamed until my throat felt raw and my chest heaved.
I collapsed back to the ground, gasping for air. I made a promise to myself then, if it was the last thing I did, I was going to fuck Saint up the first chance I got.