Chapter Twenty #2
“She…she…” Sylvie stutters, pointing at me, but I’m not hanging around to listen.
“SHE is going for a walk. You can sell your bullshit to Frank. He seems eager to hear you out, Princess. Personally, I was done the second you opened your mouth. I came by to make sure you were okay, but I can see you are as good as ever. I’ll not make the same mistake again.
” I push past Frank and take the stairs, stopping to wince my apology at Ben. “I owe you. I’ll not forget it.”
Ben nods, the movement is fast and contained like he doesn’t want Frank or Sylvie to see. “Don’t go far,” he snaps, uncharacteristically. “Dax’ll be pissed if you go any further than the maze.” He stares straight into my eyes like he’s begging me to hear what he’s saying. To understand.
I nod. “Fine.” The maze sounds good to me, anyway. Fresh air and privacy. A moment to breathe and think without being watched.
At the bottom of the stairs, I reach for an oversized black hoodie hanging on the rack. I don’t care who it belongs to. Pulling it on over my t-shirt, I yank up the hood, tucking my hair inside, then get as far as the security office before I’m stopped.
“Going somewhere, Jules?” Cas asks. His voice is strained. I don’t need to look at him to know he’s frowning at me, but for once I’d like to get out without a huge fuss—or worse, end up with an entourage.
“Going for a walk. That allowed?”
“The boss will have my balls if you go out without me knowing.”
“Well, now you know. Your balls are safe,” I snap. Cas raises an eyebrow and I relent. He doesn’t deserve my bad mood. That’s all on Sylvie. “I’ll stay in the compound,” I bargain softly.
He makes me wait a tense twenty seconds before asking, “Where?”
“The maze.” At least I hope that’s the part Ben wanted me to pick up on.
“Do you know your way through it?”
“No, but it can’t honestly be that difficult?”
“Hard enough. I’ll turn on the lights for you. You can follow them in and out. If you promise to stay in view of the cameras, I’ll let you go without security.”
Cameras? “They have them in the maze?” Cas raises his brows again but this time I see the matching humour in his expression and can almost hear his “what do you think?” I chuckle and nod. “Of course there are cameras in the maze. Okay, I’ll stay in view. I won’t be too long.”
“Okay. Oh, and Jules.”
“Yeah?”
“I got all of that on camera.” He gestures upward towards Sylvie’s room. “You okay?”
I chuff. “I’ve had far worse.”
Cas’s responding frown makes me uncomfortable. “For what it’s worth, I saw you holding back. I realise how hard that must have been.”
“She’s still a kid. One that knows jack-shit about anything,” Why am I making excuses for her? I let the sentiment hang between us.
“If ever you want some training—self-defence, ways to get out of holds, quick ways to escape attackers, etcetera—just give me a shout. I’ll be happy to help.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” My response is instinctive.
A polite dismissal so I can escape Cas’s all too knowing gaze.
Yet, as I march out of the open Orangery doors and onto the rear lawn, I think about what that would entail.
Learning to fight? No, aggression wasn’t a path I wanted to choose but learning to protect myself—learning how to get away safely.
Yes, that sounds like something I really need.
A gust of chilled wind swipes in from the east and makes me glad for the hoodie.
I tug the collar up over my nose and roll the sleeves over my hands.
It’s still afternoon, but the weather is turning.
The long light days of summer are gone, and the nights are folding in much earlier, bringing with them the chill of autumn.
The sun curves low on the horizon. The greenery still feels unnatural to me.
Unspoiled, cultivated, aromatic, and expansive, like I’ve somehow slipped into a dream world.
This is the type of place I’d fantasised about as a child.
Large open parkland, trees as far as the eye can see, the unmistakable smell of bark, and the damp earth beneath my feet.
Even the air has a clean, crisp scent that stings when the breeze buffets my face.
It is everything I’ve never known and a reminder of just how removed this reality is from mine. Of how far Dax’s world is from my own.
I cross the lawn diagonally, expecting someone to shout at me for walking on the grass.
The maze rises out of the ground from the bottom of the visible garden.
From Sylvie’s tour, I’d learned that there were a series of secret gardens on the grounds; some tucked away behind walls, and others appearing like mirages between the trees.
At the southernmost point, there is even a large man-made pond with koi carp as long as my arm, and five years my senior.
For someone like me, Trevainne manor is a treasure trove, or it could be if I remember to take five minutes out of my mental chatter and anxiety to appreciate it.
I like the idea of a maze. The notion of hiding in a place that is, by its very structure, a haven from prying eyes, deeply appeals to me. Admittedly, less so now that I know it’s dotted with cameras.
As soon as I step inside the confines of the box hedges, the lights switch on. Hidden at the base of the path, they shine through the foliage as though the bushes themselves are lit from within. At the first right-angled turn, a black camera swivels to face me.
I take a deep breath and wave up at it. The lights flicker off and on in response.
Am I meant to feel safe? It’s intrusive.
I can’t even be alone for a moment. Even the phone in my pocket tracks my every move.
I wonder why that isn’t enough. Why do they need to watch my every step, even while confined in the garden?
My mind throws me a flash of the Coffee house.
I see the men waiting by the cars to take me.
The memory is as clear as being there. God.
I’m such an ungrateful bitch. That’s why I’m watched.
Those men are the reason Dax and Aiden have cameras on me.
If it takes a lack of privacy to keep me alive, I should be thankful for it.
I follow the lights obediently, but enviously, stare down every path that veers into the darkness, wondering how deep the dead-ends venture. I’m tempted to take the chance and find out.
I hear the centre of the maze before I reach it.
A rushing sound. Water crashing against water warns me I’m close.
The last right turn reveals an ornate fountain, not over-large and surprisingly modern in style.
A woman with a tall, vulpine body and tendrils of hair falling to the side of her head, arcs in an eternally graceful pose to pour water from a small vase into the wider pond at her feet.
She is made of the most exquisite, coloured glass, as is the fountain base beneath her.
Inside are a dozen glass roses formed into the base of the bowl.
The whole thing sits on a sturdy concrete plinth with a plaque of polished brass.
I squat down to read the words etched there.
“The smallest kindness can have the deepest ripples.”
Celeste Trevainne
Forever loved. Never forgotten.
“The reason we are all here.”
I pull myself up, holding onto the fountain for leverage, belatedly relieved when it doesn’t topple with my weight.
Ben’s eyes widen. He blows out a relieved breath as soon as I make it to my feet. “You’re lucky. We’d both be on the streets if anything happened to Celeste there,” he teases.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, “Why are you hiding in the bushes?”
“Hold on.” Ben reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone. Hitting dial and then holding it to his ear, he waits only a single beat before talking. “Cas, I’ve got her. Cameras down for twenty minutes, please. I’ll bring her back to the fountain when we’re done. Thanks, man.”
“What the—?”
Ben holds up his hand in a stop motion until the lights go off and then he beckons me forward and into the thick of the hedges.
“I don’t really want to go back with scratches, Ben…this seems a little excessive.”
“Trust me, Honeybee,” he chuckles, leading me between two separate hedges that have been cut to look like one.
“Secret path?”
“Told you this place was full of them. This one is mine, though. I think Dax knows it exists, but he doesn’t know where to find it. You can only see it from the inside. See?”
I turn around and sure enough the hedge is carved to look like it has a door frame on the right and a double thick hedge, about as wide as two people stands on the left.
Ben reaches into the thicker side and tugs.
The whole thing swings forward, pivoting upon hidden hinges and slides straight into the doorway gap.
“A hedge door? How?”
“There’s a tall pot sitting on a shelf and frame set-up from what I can tell. The hedge has been trained to grow around it. Pretty sneaky but makes it impossible to see the entrance.”
“It’s devious.”
“Knew you’d like it.”
“You’d never realise that was a door. How did you even find it in the first place?”
“You can just make out the handle on this side.” Ben points to a black metal rod that sticks out of the back. Though visible, it would still take extraordinary efforts to discover it. “But I found it because of the paths at the house. One of them leads to…well. I’ll let you see it for yourself.”