Chapter Fifty-One
Fifty-One
Josie
The warmth of dark chocolate wood paneling and ancient cranberry wallpaper greets me as I step into the hallway, the fabric worn in places, the whole space dripping with old-worldly, haunted mansion–stye opulence.
Oil portraits of stern-faced white men, all framed in gaudy gold, line the walls between massive mounted stag heads.
I glance left, then right—the hallway stretches endlessly in both directions, a faded green carpet running down its center like a spine connecting the rooms.
The eerie stillness sends a chill down my back.
Not a soul in sight, just the cold echo of an empty space too large for comfort.
I think for a moment that this might be Niles von Getfucked’s hunting lodge, but no—this place is far too grand.
The scale is enormous, far more intense than some “lodge.”
I glance down at the floor, searching for footprints, hoping for a clue about which direction to take.
There’s nothing—no sign of anyone. I make a quick decision and turn right, moving as quietly as I can, my footsteps light as I shuffle through this strange…
palace? Mansion? Hotel? Whatever it is, it’s massive and disorienting.
If I weren’t literally fleeing for my life, I might even be curious enough to explore.
After what feels like forever, I stumble upon a spiral staircase and descend three flights.
At the bottom, I step into a giant industrial kitchen.
It’s empty, but the lingering scent of hot oil hangs heavy in the air, a sign that someone was just here.
The place feels recently alive yet completely abandoned.
I feel like I went to sleep at Honor’s art show and woke up a prisoner in Downton Abbey.
I slip out the back door, and the wind hits me like a slap—sharp, cold, and drenched in rain.
It cuts through my wrinkled, sweat-soaked black dress, and every step sends a raw sting through the soles of my bare feet as they meet the rough concrete.
I turn, staring up at the building I just escaped.
The dark gray walls seem to shoot into the sky, crowned with turrets that jut out like ridiculous dunce caps.
Okay, this is a motherfucking castle.
Now I break into a run. No plan, no map, just go.
I sprint up a grassy hill, hoping for a view—a town, a highway, hell, even a McDonald’s.
By the time I hit the top, I’m panting hard, but at least my asthma’s in check—good thing, too, because my inhaler’s God knows where.
Probably with my bag. I imagine Niles dumping it out the plane window at thirty thousand feet, laughing like an asshole.
I spin around to see a scattering of buildings and green lawns, which seems to be my best option. My heart leaps out of my body, because beyond that, there’s a perimeter of jagged, brutal cliffs and, beyond that, nothing but a churning curtain of black-blue sea.
This is a motherfucking castle…on a motherfucking island.
—
Ten minutes later, I end up in a chapel—a totally random choice of building after a sad, desperate game of Eenie Meenie Miney Mo.
I crawl under a pew and, because I’ve got no clue what else to do, I start to pray.
The last time I did that was at MS Hospital, right after Dr. Don had told me the cancer was back, and he’d hit me with the you’ll be lucky to see the end of the year speech.
Fuck Dr. Don and double fuck Niles von Grafenhagen.
When the footsteps come, I cover my head and curl into a tiny ball.
“Josie-Jo, I know you’re in here. Skara Brae has cameras everywhere.
That’s how we keep this place safe. Come on out, sweetheart.
I’ll never hurt you.” Niles’s voice is soft, like he’s trying to coax a scared kitten.
In a split second, I change strategies—I will revert to old tried-and-tested battle plans. I will go full JosieFightsOn.
“I’m here,” I say, from under the pew. I try to make myself sound small and fragile, though every fiber of me is burning to roar, to leap up and tear Niles apart with my bare hands. “But I’m scared. I know you drugged me, and I don’t understand why.”
My voice wobbles perfectly. No tears—I’m too pissed for that—but just enough to sell it. I clench my fists so hard I’m surprised I don’t break skin.
Niles will not see my fury. I will only show him my faux fragility.
“Oh, sweetheart, I had to do that. You were so scared because you knew Axe was coming to get you, and so I figured that was the best way to get you here. To safety,” Niles says. “It was all for you. To protect you.”
I slowly come out of my crouch and sit down on a pew. Niles drops down next to me, so close I have to bite back a gag. His thigh presses against mine.
“Where are we? What is this place?” I ask, all wide-eyed wonder. I will play the role of Sleeping Beauty who just woke up into a magical, unexplained world.
“My castle. In Scotland. It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Niles asks.
I keep my voice soft, like I’m still unsure about him but curious enough to stay. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But I’m scared, Niles.”
If I survived my childhood and Dr. Don and the anxiety force field of my mother, I can survive this. I will not die here today in this ridiculous motherfucking castle on this random motherfucking island.
“Oh no. Don’t be scared.” He drags one long, creepy finger down my hand, then across my collarbone.
Gross. He moves to smooth my hair with his whole palm, like he owns me.
“I love you, Josie-Jo. I knew the second I saw you that you were mine. I’ll protect you.
There’s so much evil in the world, and I won’t let anyone hurt you. ”
Gaslighting prick.
“Especially not someone like Axe MacKenzie. Who thinks women are garbage. Playthings to be bought and sold.”
I let my mind drift to Axe and block out Niles’s words.
I will not believe a word this psycho—who spiked my drink and locked me in a room—has to say.
Where is Axe right now? Does he care that I left the party?
Does he think I’m back in my apartment, in my pajamas, mourning Nonna?
Has he decided I’m nothing more than an employee after all—that AI Josie is really all he needs?
I picture his blue eyes, the way they soften when he looks at me, and his messy hair that somehow always suits him perfectly.
I remember how he saved me from that drunk guy at the House of Horrors.
He’s always looking out for me, making sure I’m okay.
I saw Axe beat that man at the party, and honestly, I’d be happy to watch him do the same to Niles.
Given the chance, I would easily bite off his ear myself, sever a limb, watch him bleed out on the floor in front of me without a whiff of guilt.
The world is full of evil people. I’ve felt that same fire, that same urge to tear the world apart, to destroy people who deserve it.
Maybe that’s why I get him. Maybe that’s why we make sense.
Maybe we’re exactly what the other needs.
I think about how much I love him—I do; I love him—how that feeling alone should be enough to push me through, no matter how he feels about me.
That love is what’s going to get me the hell out of here.
I will see Axe again. I know it.
Because if there’s one thing worth fighting for, it’s love. And love sure as hell is something to live for.
“Can you give me a tour of this place?” I ask, putting on my best sugary-sweet I’m-so-pathetic voice.
If my mom were here, she’d be snapping a pic for socials with a #fuckcancer #bravegirlJosie caption.
I’m scrubbing that identity from my life if I get home—no, when I get home.
JosieFightsOn is getting wiped from the internet, and I’m taking back my own damn life.
But first I need to take this bastard out.
“I’ve never seen the ocean. I want to see the cliffs. ”
Niles stands up, extending his hand like some kind of twisted wannabe gentleman. I take it, give it a little squeeze for good measure, and let him kiss me on the forehead.
I deserve a fucking Oscar for not punching him right then and there.