Chapter Thirty-eight
“Well, well, well,” Lola said.
“What do we have here?” Percy finished.
Today’s outfits were flamingo pink. Judging by the feathered adornments, the color was deliberate.
They reminded me of the flamingo tattoo I’d never received, Nico’s raven having taken its place instead. For the first time, I regretted losing it. My hand lifted instinctively to rub the healing skin beneath my T-shirt.
“Out of our way,” Nico said.
Lola’s penciled eyebrows climbed to an impressive height. “This is not the exit, Mr. Ravenscar, as you very well know.” Her gaze slid to me, her expression souring immediately. “And this one should already be serving his time in the gallery.”
Rage bubbled inside me. It threatened to erupt like a geyser if I didn’t keep a lid on it.
This whole thing had started with them. A small, rational part of me knew that wasn’t entirely true, that the true blame lay at Victor’s feet, but rationality and I weren’t exactly seeing eye to eye today. “What the fuck did I ever do to you?”
“Language,” Percy said. “A lady shouldn’t be spoken to that way.”
“A lady?” I snorted. “She’s no lady. She’s―”
Nico’s hand clamped around my biceps, his fingers digging into the muscle.
Right. I’d promised to behave.
“She’s what?” Percy prompted.
“Yes,” Lola echoed. “What am I?”
I took a deep breath before forcing a smile. It probably looked as fake as it felt. “I’m tired,” I said. “It’s been a long and trying day.”
“Evidently.” Lola looked me up and down. “You’ve never looked less pretty.”
In the rush to escape the Hart’s house and rid myself of the gag, I’d given little thought to the beating Kellan had doled out. When I touched my face, my fingertips came away sticky with congealed blood.
Percy sighed. “Such a crime.”
Whether he meant someone hitting me or the offense of presenting myself without washing my face first, I couldn’t tell. Knowing Percy and Lola, I suspected the latter.
“Here’s the deal,” Nico said, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You can step aside and let us pass, or we can make a thing of it. We’re already overdue a conversation about the placement of a certain tattoo. I also never instructed you to change his eye color or dress him the way you did.”
They exchanged a glance before shrugging in perfect unison.
“It’s none of our business what you do,” Lola said.
“It’s not like we can stop you,” Percy added.
“Great.” Nico started forward, still holding my arm.
I planted my feet. “My things. My phone. My wallet. I want them.”
Nico’s jaw clenched. “Do you need them?”
“Yes.” I stared at him. “They’ve even got my house keys. They can keep the clothes, but I want everything else.”
“Get them,” Nico said.
Percy puffed out his chest. “You could ask nicely.”
“Costs nothing,” Lola added.
I mustered another smile. This one came a little easier. Apparently, being fake just required practice. “Please, may I have my things back? I’d very much appreciate being able to access my house when I get home.”
Lola muttered something under her breath. When Nico shot her a look, she colored slightly. Or at least I thought she did—the day’s heavy blusher made it difficult to tell.
She performed an exaggerated curtsy. “Of course, sir. Anything you say, sir.”
The pair of them scuttled away before Nico could respond.
We followed. Close enough not to lose sight of them. Far enough back to converse in a low whisper.
“Your things?” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Do you like flirting with danger that much?”
I caught his wrist and tilted his watch toward me. “The boat isn’t due for another forty-five minutes. We’re only going to be standing around waiting. Another five minutes won’t make a difference.”
To my surprise, he didn’t argue. At the end of the corridor, Lola disappeared through a doorway, leaving us alone with Percy. An awkward silence settled over us.
Either none of us wanted to fill it, or Percy genuinely couldn’t hold a conversation unless Lola started his sentences for him.
A scream echoed from somewhere deeper in the building. While I flinched, Nico didn’t so much as blink. “This place is really messed up,” I muttered.
“It’s a necessary cog in Wonderland’s machinery,” Percy replied proudly, proving he could converse without Lola after all.
“It’s a mannequin factory for perverts,” I shot back.
Thankfully, Lola returned before he could raise any objection to my opinion. She carried a clear plastic bag with my phone, wallet, and keys inside.
Relieved, I snatched it from her. Knowing I wasn’t supposed to leave Wonderland alive, it surprised me that they’d bothered keeping any of it.
What else did they store in that room? Was it just shelf after shelf of possessions waiting for owners who’d never come back. The thought sent a chill through me.
“He’s being difficult again,” Percy remarked.
This time I didn’t resist when Nico tugged me down the corridor. We were moving quickly enough that whatever Lola said in reply was lost behind us.
Three more corridors brought us to another locked door.
Another key. Another click. Then fresh air.
I tipped my head back and drew in the deepest breath I’d taken in weeks.
Real air. Not the filtered imitation inside Wonderland. Even the ground beneath my feet felt different, and I had to quash the urge to drop to my knees and kiss it. Clouds overhead threatened rain, and I didn’t give a damn. I might even have welcomed a downpour.
I collected little snippets of reality with greedy abandon. Birdsong. A cool breeze. The distant crash of waves. Loose stones beneath my shoes. All things that made me appreciate that no matter how real Wonderland had tried to be, it had never come close.
While I stood absorbing it all, Nico faced the sea with his hands in his pockets.
“Did you ever leave Wonderland?” I asked. “While I was there?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “Because I couldn’t trust you not to get yourself into even more trouble.”
I sat on a nearby rock, deliberately leaving enough room next to me for Nico.
He remained standing.
“You could have told me the truth from the beginning.” I hastened to add more before he decided I was rehashing an old argument. “Not the first time we met. I understand why you couldn’t then. But after I got here. You could have taken me to Victor on the first day.”
“I could have.” A pause. “I didn’t.” He kept his gaze fixed on the water. “I chose another path. One I can’t change.”
A seagull swooped down. It soared on an updraft for a few seconds before disappearing into the distance.
“So we just wait?”
“Until the boat comes, yes.” He jerked his head toward the main exit. “There will be too many people there.”
“That makes sense. How long?”
He checked his watch. “Thirty minutes.”
That was manageable. Less would have been better, but thirty minutes was better than an hour. The trick was to keep myself occupied. Anything to stop myself from staring at the door and wondering if one of the Harts would come through it.
I emptied the plastic bag into my lap. My phone was dead.
Hardly surprising. It would have been dead before I left the nightclub on day one, and it wasn’t as if Percy and Lola were ever going to think to charge it.
I dreaded to think how many missed calls I’d find once I could switch it on.
Work demanding to know why I hadn’t shown up.
Friends. Family. Had anyone reported me missing? So many questions.
I slipped my keys into my pocket and then checked my wallet. The bank cards were all there, as was a library card I hadn’t used for years. The center compartment, however, was empty. “Bastards took my money.”
Nico didn’t seem remotely surprised. “They’ve probably cloned your bank cards too.”
“Fantastic.” I sighed. “Will I get home to discover they’ve taken my furniture?”
“No. They don’t look up addresses. That’s too much effort.”
Every time Nico said “they” I got the distinct impression it was a last-minute substitution for “we.” I picked up a stone and threw it into the sea.
Money wasn’t important. Not when I’d come perilously close to a far worse fate than being destitute.
Anything would be better than becoming an abusive dickhead’s fucktoy.
I could find another job. Earn more money.
Besides, I wasn’t the only one who’d lost something. “You didn’t even get to pack a bag.”
“No.”
In true Nico style, there was no emotion behind it. Just a statement of fact.
“I’m sorry. That sucks.” The words felt woefully inadequate. “They won’t be sending your things on, I’m guessing.”
A sardonic smile appeared. “You’d be guessing correctly.”
“I really am sorry.” I let the apology hang there for a moment. “How long now?”
He checked his watch. “Twenty-seven minutes.”
Funny. Apparently, you could complete an existential crisis about losing everything you owned in under three minutes.
Nico slid his watch off his wrist and handed it to me. “Here.”
I blinked.
“Now you can stop asking.”
The watch was warm from his skin. Expensive too. For one deeply embarrassing moment, I wanted to lift it to my nose and see whether it smelled of his cologne. Thankfully, sanity prevailed, and I rested it on my lap instead. “Now you’ll have to ask me.”
“Or…” Nico said dryly, “I could simply accept that a countdown won’t make the boat arrive any sooner.”
“I’m nervous.”
“I know.” A pause. “You should be.”
“Well, that’s incredibly comforting.”
The words had barely left my mouth when the door opened and Kellan Hart stepped outside.