Chapter Twenty-one
Asilence spreads between us as Ben leads me through the maze.
I notice the lack of cameras and lights out here, so I assume the secret doorway isn’t just a cute puzzle to solve but exists to provide some other concealment.
It’s well kept too, suggesting that Ben looks after this place or someone else knows about it too.
I’m not sure if it’s the quiet way Ben walks just ahead of me or the fact that this place feels so isolated from the rest of the world, but there’s a loneliness that emanates from him.
Everything from his sloped shoulders to his downcast eyes speaks of exhaustion.
Even his bruises are shadows within shadows.
Purple and black, they create pits of darkness around his eyes.
I make a mental note to tell Dax exactly what I think about that when I next see him.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, startling a pretty little jay from the bush near Ben’s head.
“I’ve had worse,” Ben returns with a half-smile. I guess he heard me with Cas.
“You shouldn’t have it at all. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I should have realised what was happening sooner. I got there late.”
“You got there just in time. Twice!”
“Agree to disagree with that one,” he grumbles, but his shoulders relax a little. “Just one more turn…”
He leads us around a hairpin turn and into an open square, bigger even than the centre of the maze with Celeste’s fountain, because in the middle of a grass lawn sits the most perfect storybook cottage.
“Oh wow. How is this…?”
“There are two centres,” he explains. “The maze is split into two halves that mirror each other. The other side originally had a natural pool, but after…well, something happened and they filled it in, back when the Trevainnes still ran the place. When Celeste died, Dax and Sylvie chose that spot for her memorial. Well, more Dax than Sylvie…I think he needed her to be hidden away. Or maybe he wanted people to have privacy when they came to visit her?” He shrugs.
“And you’re telling me that nobody knows about this side…A whole cottage is hard to forget, especially one this adorable.”
“You like it?”
Like it? It was the gingerbread cottage and Snow White’s cottage and Sleeping Beauty’s home in the woods.
It was all the stories I’d read to the kids but made real.
Crooked walls, a steeply pitched roof that sloped in at the sides, as if holding the tiles up was just too much work for the old thing.
It has the appearance of a witch’s hat but one that is growing moss in fits and spurts like wild hair.
The walls are a buttery-yellow, and the woodwork is painted dark green like the hedges concealing it.
Each window sits higgledy-piggledy in the walls, with no two the same size or shape.
Despite being a whole damned house, it also barely reaches the top of the hedges.
“It’s gorgeous. Small though.”
“Looks can be deceiving. Come on inside. I’ll show you.
” Ben strides to the door and opens it for me.
I reach the entrance and duck my head to go inside, only to meet three steps that lead straight down to a sunken floor.
When I stand inside, I’ve got comfortable headroom despite the old, crooked beams lined up above me.
Looking around, I find myself in a small, homely kitchen that is fully fitted with a sink at the window, an oven and hob, a small refrigerator, and a microwave.
“It has power?” I ask, despite seeing the proof.
“It does, and a wood burner.” He nods to the furthest corner, a whole ten steps away from the kitchen sink, where a cosy black wood-burning fire stands, its black pipe stretching up to the roof and beyond.
“Through there is the bedroom, that door over there has a fully functioning bathroom, and down here—” He leads me to a heavier door with an old turnkey lock.
“This is how I beat you to the maze.” He pulls out the key and opens the door, revealing stairs leading down to a lit tunnel.
“Another secret tunnel?”
“Yep.”
“And this one goes to…?”
He eyes me speculatively, as though wondering whether he should tell me or not. I see the moment he makes the decision. His eyes light up, and his lips curve into a shy smile. “If I didn’t have to take you back to Celeste’s fountain, I’d show you.”
“So, you’re going to keep it a secret?”
“No, I’ll tell you…but later.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Can I look around?”
“Of course.” He holds his arm out, and I almost laugh at the way it practically encompasses the entire space.
The place is dinky. Dust-free too. The shelves above the counters have food and dishes on them; the bed has a comforter that is ruffled as though someone forgot to make the bed this morning; and it smells like soap and lemon… like Ben.
“You live here?” I ask, finally realising.
He nods but looks away as he answers. “Mostly. I have a room in the house, but I prefer the peace out here,” he admits.
“I bet. It’s like a perfect hideaway.”
“A little house for a little mouse,” he jokes, still avoiding my eyes.
“No, this is a fairytale. This is the stuff stories are made of. Like Rapunzel’s tower. Or Sleeping Beauty’s castle surrounded by thorns.”
Finally, he looks at me. His eyes are full of questions and surprise. “Are you calling me a princess, Honeybee?”
“If the cottage fits,” I tease.
Ben watches me with a growing smile and asks, “Then what does that make you?”
His question stuns me into silence. Not because I don’t have an answer, but because the words that hit my tongue the second he finishes asking are… ‘I’d be your prince, of course.’
Funny how our unconscious reactions can be so revealing sometimes.
Here I am with two boyfriends? Lovers? Persons of romantic interest?
And yet my heart—or head—wants to tell him I’ll save him.
I’ll be the one who wipes that lost, lonely shadow away.
Do I really want that? Am I honestly falling a little for the boy who stalks me?
Don’t forget saves you.
Ben has saved me on more than one occasion.
In fact, he probably saved me from seeing Tom shot that night on the stairs.
If he hadn’t chased me, I might have been shot too.
Or perhaps he would have? It’s all so messed up.
And maybe that’s why I don’t give him my honest first response?
Instead answering, “I guess we’ll have to find out? ”
“I’ll look forward to it,” he grins, returning my words to me.
“Me too,” I whisper, feeling oddly excited and guilty for admitting it out loud.
Our confession, as subtle as it is, leaves both of us nervously fluttering around the space. I take the time to catalogue as much as I can about the young man who prefers the shadows.
“I should get you back. Cas can only keep the cameras off for so long. Dax’ll probably notice anyway.” Ben sighs. It’s a long, drawn-out sound that conveys his disappointment.
I can’t help but feel the same way. This was too quick. Just enough time to be slightly less awkward with Ben, but nowhere near enough to feel ready to return to the house and Sylvie Trevainne.
Ben hovers at the door. I sense he wants to ask a question, but he hesitates.
“About this place…”
“Do you want me to keep the cottage secret?”
Relief softens his features. “Yes, please. Dax probably already knows, and if he doesn’t, then Aiden does, but I don’t want to risk Sylvie or Frank finding out.”
Makes sense. I’ll not risk Ben’s sanctuary. “Okay.”
“Okay? No questions?”
“Oh, I have questions, but you don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you want me to know, I’ll be here to listen,” I tell him, taking note that he mentioned only Frank and Sylvie.
Ben’s eyes darken and his lips pull tight. “Actually, you should probably stay clear of Sylvie,” he warns.
“I figured that out for myself.”
“Yeah, I noticed, but she’s not as childish as she seems. Nor as innocent. Don’t be fooled. She’s vindictive.”
I can’t help but wonder where this advice was before I entered into a shouting match with the girl. Then again, I guess Ben was the only person warning me to stay away back at the beginning. He went to great lengths to keep me out of the compound.
“Yep, got all that, too. Don’t worry. The whole fiasco at the hotel has all my red flags waving. I don’t trust her, so I won’t be going near her.”
“Good. Okay. I’ll recommend Dax send her away for a while, so you shouldn’t have another run-in like earlier.” Ben’s phone buzzes in his hand. He glances down and frowns. “Damn. We need to head back.”
As much as I’d like to stay in this little cottage and read by the fire, any extended absence from Dax’s watchful eye will only lead to a manhunt and ruin Ben’s secret. Perhaps when things are calmer, Ben might bring me back here?
One could only hope.
“Lead the way.”