Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
“Off with her head!”
—The Queen of Hearts, Alice in Wonderland
Ileave the ballroom to take a piss and come back to find Alice gone.
The fuck?
I do see Katherine glued to her husband’s side, but her daughter didn’t come back inside with her, and I beeline over to the odious woman. “Where is she?”
When Katherine fixes that icy glare on me, her contempt is palpable. “Where is who?”
This bitch.
“You know who,” I grind out between gritted teeth.
Up goes an imperious eyebrow, but it’s the smirk that makes me want to punch a hole clear through a wall. “Probably upstairs packing.”
Say what now?
“Why would Alice be upstairs packing?” Harrison Wentworth asks his gold-digging wife.
Katherine waves a hand dismissively through the air. “We had another argument, and she decided to leave.” Then she coils her arm around Harrison’s. “Nothing to be concerned about, dear.”
He does look concerned, but Katherine tugs him away toward the bar, likely hoping that drowning him in alcohol will get her out of having to explain herself.
Not that it matters. My sole focus is on finding Alice and getting her the fuck out of here.
But to find her, I’m forced to navigate through the crowd of these ridiculous people dressed in the most outrageous costumes.
Good fucking God, is Richard Jerrod wearing a colonial wig? He looks like an asshole.
When I spot March and Ivory seated together at a table across the room, I veer off my path, heading toward them to let them know that once I find Alice, we’re leaving…
…only to have Scarlett intercept me.
This night keeps getting shittier by the second.
Scarlett reaches for my hand, but I quickly pull it away because I swear to God, if she touches me, I’m tossing her in the pool. If Roman gets mad, oh fucking well.
But either Scarlett is oblivious to my disgust or is stupidly persistent in her pursuit. She wraps that nasty claw, with those crimson talons, around my arm and tries to tug me toward the dance floor. “Come on, Mad, dance with me.”
I yank free of her grasp. “Jesus Christ, Scarlett,” I grind out between clenched teeth. When I attempt to move around her, she hops right back in my path. Annoyed by her tenacity, I bark out an irritated, “What? What the fuck do you want from me?”
This girl doesn’t have a demure bone in her annoying body, so what’s with the bowed head and wringing hands routine? “I thought… I hoped—”
“You hoped what, that I’ll magically forget you’ve made an art form out of tormenting Alice? You copied a fucking painting some psycho gave her. What was that, a joke? A warning? What?”
“I didn’t think—”
“That’s your problem.” I smash my finger against my temple.
“You never fucking think. It’s always about you.
You, you, you. Anyone dares to get in the way of what you want?
Too bad for them because it’s all about you.
But I’m not one of your pawns, Scarlett.
You can’t play me like you can everyone else.
” I lean in close to her, almost touching her nose. “I’ve always seen right through you.”
Oh, my God, with the crocodile tears. “It’s not like that. I want… I hoped… I wish we could at least be friends.”
“Friends? You’ve got to be kidding me. Your goal in life is to make Alice miserable, and you think I’ll ever consider you anything other than my enemy?” I snort out a nasty laugh as I step around her, muttering, “And they call me crazy.”
But again, she tenaciously jumps in my path. “Maddox, please,” she pleads. “I’m sorry.”
I stop, aware of the eyes on us. I grasp her by the arm and drag her off to the side of the room. “Wrong person to be apologizing to.”
She has the audacity to do that whole doe-eyed thing with me. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to understand anything about you,” I spit as I, again, attempt to walk away.
However, Scarlett shouts, “Wait!” freezing me mid-step. I slowly turn back around to face her, nearly colliding with her because she scurried up behind me…
…like a fucking hemorrhoid sticking out of my ass.
Clenching my jaw, I realize the people nearby are focusing too intently on us, and every nerve in my body feels raw. I wag my finger at her, growling, “Lower your fucking voice.”
She winces as if I slapped her. “Wait,” she repeats, quieter, and adds, “Please.”
Suddenly suspicious, everything about this whole scene is wrong.
Scarlett would never act this needy, not even with me.
Never. And she’s never, ever, said please, not in her entire bitchy life.
Honestly, I’m shocked she can speak it at all, and when I destroy the space between us, she wisely backs up—until she slams into the wall. “What are you up to, Scar?”
With her arms positioned behind her to support her back, she shakes her head. Her already fair complexion pales to an almost sickly white. A hard swallow bobs down her throat. “Nothing.” Her denial is so full of shit I can smell the stink a mile away.
“Liar,” I accuse. “You don’t know how to function if you’re not scheming against someone. Tell me what the fuck—”
“Is there a problem?”
I shut my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Sadly, it does nothing to soothe my escalating anger. When I turn to Roman, I’m nearly boiling with the raging need to find Alice. Yet here I am, dealing with her nonsense. “Ask your daughter.”
Roman’s mask is off, and by his expression, he’s not about to let us embarrass him in front of Wonderland’s aristocracy. “I’m asking you, Maddox.”
“There’s no problem, Daddy.” Scarlett’s sickly-sweet tone and the false smile she gives Roman make me want to puke.
His expression softens a smidge. This is Roman McQueen, after all, and while he’s definitely indulgent with his wife and daughters, he still has his limits.
He’s also fully aware of who Scarlett is, that she’s a mirror of his ruthless personality.
“No?” At her nod, he turns his attention back to me.
“I’ll ask you again, Maddox. Is there an issue concerning my daughter that we need to address? ”
I clench my jaw, gritting out, “Alice is gone, and for whatever reason, your daughter has taken it upon herself to become an obstacle.”
Scarlett is now shaking her head furiously. “That’s not true!” she insists.
“What do you mean Alice is gone?” Roman demands, ignoring Scarlett.
“Gone as in she went outside with Katherine, but one of them came back. The other didn’t.”
I can practically see Roman’s mind working, and predictably, those gears are now turning in the same direction as mine. “And you think—”
“I don’t know what I think,” I snap, cutting him off.
But I do, and the suspicion that’s rapidly morphing into fear has everything to do with Knavish.
“Now, with all due respect, please get the fuck out of my way.” I look directly at Scarlett when I add, “And if you continue to be a roadblock, I’ll be forced to act accordingly. ”
“You’re not threatening my daughter, Maddox.”
“I absolutely am.” I sidestep Roman. “Scarlett knows about Knavish, and I’d wager your entire fortune that she knows a shit-ton more than she has the balls to admit.”
“Meaning?”
But I leave his question open and unanswered, hanging in the air around him and his daughter.
Time becomes a steady hammer, banging persistently against my brain, reminding me that every second wasted here is another moment Alice is out there—alone.
Plus, anything Scarlett might say will probably be a bunch of bullshit anyway.
She’s a master manipulator with a knack for weaving seamless lies.
Weaving through the crowd, I’m almost at the back doors when March comes up beside me. “You look like a man on a mission.”
“I am,” I declare curtly. “Alice is missing.”
He drags a hand through his hair and mutters, “Jesus Christ.”
“If he’s here, he’s a dead man, March, I swear to fucking God,” I growl.
Of course, he doesn’t need me to specify who ‘he’ is and answers with a gruff, “No doubt.” Then, quieter, “You strapped?”
Without missing a beat, I shrug off the frock coat, letting it fall to the floor and leaving it where it lands.
The humid night air and raging temper have me sweating like a sinner in church, and even as I unfasten the brass buttons of my vest, I still feel suffocated. “I promised Alice I’d behave.”
“So, that’s a no.” He unbuttons his black tailcoat and shoves it aside to reveal his favorite tactical knife in its sheath at his hip. “No worries, I got you.”
“If she’s with him”—and I’m sick to my stomach even thinking that—“don’t you dare put a bullet in him. That fucker’s mine.”
“As if I’d deny you the fun of murdering that prick,” he scoffs.
It’d be outstanding if I could stop the violent slam of my heart beating against my sternum, but that’s not happening as I scan the moonlit yard.
Alice isn’t out here strolling among the Italian cypresses and wisterias, taking in some fresh air after…
whatever the fuck happened between her and her mother.
I pull out my phone and call her. No answer.
I text her. No reply. Not unexpected since I saw her stuff her phone in that tiny purse she left at our table, but it was worth a try.
But then my stomach rolls like a tidal wave when my gaze lands on the maze.
“There.” I nod at the massive labyrinth. “She’s in there.”
Everything inside me knows that’s where I’ll find Alice.
My feet are already carrying me across the lawn, my body blindly following as my mind trips over too many gruesome scenarios.
The demons are screaming inside my skull that this is my fault.
That I should have hunted down Knavish myself instead of leaving it to Roman, who, thus far, hasn’t found a trace of the miserable prick.
He could be anywhere—a thousand miles away by now or…
…or here, tonight.
Hiding in plain sight, right under my fucking nose.