Chapter 57
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
BELLATRIX
There was nothing stopping him from going back on his word. There was also nothing stopping me from ramming the knife in my boot through the pulsing vein in his neck that seemed to call to me when he leaned forward to get a closer look at the sewer grate.
I elbowed him in the ribcage instead, forcing him back a step so I could lift the metal lid and drop it in the grass. There were a few of these around the property, most of them real. Not this one. This one led you into the tunnels under the main house.
Casper quirked a brow, and I ignored the skeptical look on his face as I lowered a foot into the hole, locking the bottom of my boot into the first ladder wrung before doing the same with the other. Within seconds, I was skimming down and landing on my feet at the bottom.
I stared up at him through the opening. “Thought you weren’t afraid of the dark?”
“I’m not.” He grinned. “I’m afraid of you taking advantage of me again.”
“What? I did not!” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Whatever you did, it was of your own free will.”
Casper squeezed himself into the hole. He had to fold his shoulders forward in order to fit. But he got down the ladder much quicker than I had, probably because he was longer. He landed beside me. Still grinning. “What choice did I have? I was parched.”
Then he stepped out in front of me, glancing both ways.
These tunnels weren’t like the ones under Briarwood. They were darker, more complex, turned off at random corners. It was much easier to get lost here. It also felt more claustrophobic, the walls closer on the sides and the ceiling lower. They were made to look and feel like sewers.
I pushed past him and led the way again.
If I didn’t, we would be here all day and I was already getting tired.
I’d taken a nap a few hours ago, when Casper had stopped for another snack break.
Actual food and not pussy. But it hadn’t been enough.
I was already getting that sense like I was gonna crash out soon, and I didn’t want to do it at Prescott Estates.
There was just something eerie about this place. As if all the bad shit that had happened here seeped into the walls and contaminated it. Like I said, I didn’t believe in ghosts or any of that other paranormal stuff. But I did believe in vibes, and this place had bad ones.
When I recognized the turnoff that would take us up into my old bedroom, I veered right, stepped towards the wall, and grabbed on to another ladder.
It was a smaller hike up before I was pushing the trap door aside and popping through the floor.
There was no furniture to move, and the room appeared vacant.
Suggesting no one lived here anymore. At the very least, no one was using the space for anything other than cold storage.
Casper appeared behind me a few seconds later. “Another basement?” he asked, as he eyed the concrete walls.
“Servants’ quarters,” I replied.
He let out a low whistle, his hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. “Oooo, fancy.”
I shot him an annoyed glare. “There’s nothing fancy about scrubbing some rich guy’s toilet.”
“Unless it’s made of gold.”
“I promise you it wasn’t,” I grunted, and then I was walking around the room without meaning to, my fingers absentmindedly stroking my keychain.
This was the last place I’d seen Allie. I’d been the one to find her… or rather what was left of her. Her head was blown to bits but I recognized the dress she was wearing and the jewelry still hanging around her neck.
Most people went through denial after they witnessed something so traumatic. Not me. I felt instant relief. Almost like I was glad to know she was gone. It was better than where she was headed. She’d been so wrapped up in Tate’s attention she didn’t notice how toxic it was getting…
I glanced over at where Casper was fiddling with the door handle, and suddenly realized I wasn’t much different from her. This was toxic too. And I was just as wrapped up in it as my sister had been.
Maybe it was human nature. To want the things we shouldn’t have.
It would explain why there were so many addicts out there, why people craved sugar and drugs and sex.
We were all hedonistic at our core. We sought out the shit that made us feel good so that we could forget about the shit that made us feel terrible.
I shook my head and shoved my keychain deeper into my pocket. I didn’t want to think about Allie. Or myself. Or the smug son of a bitch in front of me. I just wanted to figure out what we were doing here and go home.
“Okay, I got you in. Now what?”
Casper shrugged like he didn’t know what we were doing here any more than I did. “How about a house tour?”
“How about you tell me what you’re looking for so we can fucking leave?”
He watched my face for a moment. Studied me. I kept my expression neutral. I refused to give anything away. But it was as if it didn’t matter. He could see it all.
“Something happened here,” he stated. It wasn’t a question. He lifted a hand and waved it in the air. “In this room.”
“My sister killed herself. In this room. I was the one who found her,” I admitted. I could have lied but lying was exhausting. And I was already so fucking tired. “Guess that wasn’t in my file either.”
“Nope.” He peered up at the ceiling for a moment.
I could still see the dried blood and brain matter there. But I wasn’t sure if that was real or just a figment of my imagination. Part of me was afraid to ask Casper if he saw it too.
He grabbed my arm and tugged me out of the room without saying anything else, and I was thankful he did.
Death had never been the thing to give me this sense of dread. It was the not knowing what came after…