Chapter 39 “Out of the Woods” - Taylor Swift #2
I didn’t realize how much I was slowing Pierce down before with my thousand-dollar slingbacks and Frankensteinian injury (which had better not scar).
Now that he’s carrying me, his strides are eating up the ground.
We’re back at the house in no time, and when he goes to set me down, a tiny pang of regret echoes through my chest.
“In case anyone sees,” he says, as if he owes me an explanation.
“Yeah, of course.” I brush my dress down and hope no one lays eyes on this travesty before I have a chance to get cleaned up and change. Pierce’s cashmere sweater covers most of the grime, but that would be even harder to explain.
“You all good?” He squats down to inspect my leg. “Looks like it’s stopped bleeding.”
Fortunately, the grounds seem to be deserted, probably because it’s dinnertime. Pierce shoves his hands in his pockets as we head to the back terrace. Right before we round the corner of the house, he stops and pulls something out.
“I almost forgot. You dropped this when you fell.” He holds out the necklace I was wearing earlier. “Actually, let me just—” Moving behind me, he rests the gold chain against my collarbone and fastens the clasp.
I touch the miniature charm—a diamond-studded heart—and try not to shiver as his fingers brush the back of my neck.
“There,” he says, spinning me around and admiring his work. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
We begin to climb the terrace steps, only to stop short at the sight of my sister and a boy next to the shrubbery where Preston and I met yesterday.
The shadows shift, and I see that it’s Cassian Cordero with her.
At first glance I thought it was Sebastian, but Cass’s skin is brown, and he’s not wearing Bash’s blinding smile.
“What are you two doing out here?” I say.
Viv gives my injury and the oversized sweater a pointed look. “I could ask you the same thing.”
My cheeks heat, but fortunately it’s too dark for anyone to see.
I don’t need to be embarrassed, though. Pierce St. James is the catch of the decade.
My sister, on the other hand, is sneaking around with the help.
Cassian might be Bash’s best friend, but he’s also the estate manager’s son. If our parents caught wind of this—
“We should get you inside,” Pierce says before I can warn Viv about the huge mistake she’s making.
I allow him to steer me into the house while casting one last look over my shoulder.
Viv and Cass have disappeared back into the shadows, and I can’t help wondering if that was really what it looked like.
Maybe they were just waiting on Bash. Vivienne would never throw her future away over a moody bad boy who has more tattoos than dollars.
Since everyone—except those two—is at dinner, Pierce and I make it upstairs without running into anyone else. He tugs me into the en suite attached to his bedroom.
“Sit,” he orders, and squats in front of the cabinet.
I sit down on the lid of the toilet seat, grateful to be able to rest my limbs. Walking in the forest is no joke, and I don’t recommend it if you value your body. “God, I can’t believe I nearly died.”
Pierce emerges with a first aid kit and a devilish smirk. “Narrowly escaped with your life.”
I watch as he gathers supplies on the vanity, his fingers moving dexterously, unwinding the bandages and opening disinfectant wipes.
“You’re not going to slap me if I use this, are you?” He holds a wipe several inches from the cut and looks up at me with a cocked brow.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a baby.”
His grin is hidden by his bowed head as he gently tends to my wound, but I can feel him smiling, the way you can hear it in someone’s voice over the phone. It feels like sunshine on my skin. It’s warm enough to distract me from the pain as he disinfects the cut.
After sticking the last bandage into place, he stands up. “You’ll just have to wear pants the rest of the weekend.”
I stare at him in horror. “What are you talking about? I don’t own pants.”
He flicks his tongue over his lower lip. “That’s unfortunate. We still have a challenge to finish.”
Apprehension fills my veins. I don’t want to traverse the stairs again, especially not if dinner is over. There might be people milling about, or worse—my mother.
Pierce must sense my unease, because he says, “What if I go grab the clue, and we’ll say we both found it?”
I frown. “Then this whole thing will have been pointless.”
He helps me to my feet and leads me to the bedroom. “Okay, then we’ll say you found it.”
“Hilarious.”
“I was being serious.” With his hands on my shoulders, he guides me backward until my knees hit the bed. “Get comfortable, and I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the kitchen.”
“The kitchen.”
“Yes.” He drags out the word, his hand on the doorknob. “We need food and the next clue.”
I pull the crumpled paper airplane from my pocket and toss it onto the bed. “Honey.” Nectar of the clover. “How do I know you’ll actually return with it and not just go claim the victory for yourself?”
He winks before opening the door. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”