Chapter 26
Evidently, Bleakcrest is the mansion on the cliff I was admiring earlier. Guess I’ll find out soon enough if Maximus likes the sunrise or not. Though, I assume anything having to do with this place will burn like hellfire.
Three more of Maximus’s men emerge from the foliage as we approach a seemingly impenetrable gate and fence. The sight of it quickly extinguishes any last thoughts of escape. He doesn’t have to worry though, Chelsea’s passed out cold in Karson’s arms, and I won’t be leaving her.
Dogs viciously bark from somewhere nearby as the gate slides open of its own accord. The sprawling complex sits farther back from the cliff’s edge than it appears from a distance, and somehow it’s even more breathtaking up close.
I hate it.
The gate creaks behind us, closing with a finalizing clang. Maximus leads the group from the side entrance around to the front, the full majesty of the house hitting me square in the chest.
It’s like a scene pulled straight from the crime lord how-to guide, so fucking cliché I could gag.
There’s at least ten blacked out vehicles lined up perfectly.
Two large trucks with intimidating bush grills, three matching SUV’s, a mix of sleek sports cars, and several street bikes off to the side.
Then right at the end of the line, sits a creamy white Mercedes.
I’d bet my life on that being Maximus’s personal vehicle.
The vision of him cruising the island, top down, with a sinister smug grin sickens my stomach, and I have to work harder than expected to keep the disgust from my face at the thought.
Though Bleakcrest is castle-esque in its appearance, with its stone siding, pillared entranceway, and guard towers, I don’t think armed snipers were all that common back in medieval times.
The surrounding greenery is trimmed and well maintained. Toxic purple flowers line the walkway, adding a pop of colour, and giving the atmosphere a more inviting feel.
I wonder if Maximus knows that his flowers can stall your lungs or stop your heart with just a pinch.
It would be stupid of me to assume he has them because they’re aesthetically pleasing, we aren’t in the mountains after all. They aren’t native to the area and probably require much attention to not wither away.
Following the cobblestone path leading to the door, we pass by another patch of monkshood.
If I could just reach out and grab it, I’d have some sort of protection.
But my body is battered, hand and wrist sliced open.
I can’t risk the exposure—the certain death I would face if enough aconite entered my system.
Two more armed guards stand post at the entrance, nodding to Maximus as he passes through. I keep close to Karson, allowing him and my near lifeless sister to enter first. I’d think her dead if I didn’t notice the faint fluttering of her lashes or her shallow breaths.
When I lift my eyes, I’m blinded. Everything is white.
The walls, the ceiling, the marble floor.
Brightly coloured pictures line the walls to my right, standing out like a sore thumb.
Blooming floral shots, sailing on the open sea against a piercing sunset, ocean life among a coral reef. All photos capturing vibrancy and life.
To my left, the art is dark, morbid, haunting.
Wilting flowers on a rainy night, a long bone protruding through the mud.
It stands stark among the morose colour palate.
The message captured through every emotional brush stroke.
Death Prevails the small plaque reads as we pass, moving further into the cavernous space.
The ring leader stops in a circular room where more warring pictures hang, spread between far too many doorways.
“Karson,” Maximus finally says after letting the weight of the situation sink all the way to the tips of my toes. “Please take Miss Chelsea to the lilac room and get her settled.”
“Right away, sir.” Karson heads toward a doorway, the picture of a bumblebee perched upon a flower hanging next to it, and disappears into the darkness beyond.
I make to follow, the violent urge to protect my unconscious sister ricocheting around inside me.
A large hand clamps down on my shoulder, meaty fingers digging into the pressure point there. The sudden and jarring zap of pain drops me to my knees with a cry, and I attempt to escape the sensation. “What’s the lilac room?” I wince as the assailant’s hand keeps me down.
“That’s nothing you need to worry about right now, doll.” Maximus raises his chin to the goon towering over the both of us, “Rylan, take Miss Rose to the south wing, last room on the left.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The man abruptly shoves me to the floor, knee sinking into the base of my spine as he wrenches my right arm out from beneath me.
I lose my main point of support, and fall face first into the hard tile.
Pain explodes across my tongue as my teeth sink into the muscle from the force of the impact.
I buck against the weight keeping me pinned as the man struggles to secure my hands behind my back.
No. No. No.
Blood spurts from between my lips, spraying across the pristine white marble floor as I struggle, fighting even though defeat is imminent.
Metal cinches tight around my wrists, the irrational thought of freedom evaporating in the warming tropical air.
Something raw and frenzied detonates inside me. I swing my foot forward, aiming toward the perpetrator’s face. My heel connects with Rylan’s cheek, sending him toppling off me.
Scrambling on the floor, my skin drags and squeaks against the chilled tile as I rush to get my knees under me. Righting myself on my feet, my chest heaves, breaths fast and shallow. I’ve found myself in an unbalanced standoff, the odds stacked against me in the most mountainous way.
Maximus leans against a wall off to the side, an amused look painted across his face, as two of his men round the corner, curious as to what the commotion could be.
Previously, the house was silent as the dead of night, air charged like a graveyard. There’s no way that kerfuffle went unnoticed when my cry of pain broke through the stillness, echoing my anguish off the alabaster walls.
Rylan gets to his feet. The rage in his eyes is a heat-seeking missile, its sensor locked on me.
With a simple raise of his hand, Maximus halts the furious man in his tracks, forcing him to heel.
A snarl contorts his mouth, and I know he’d tear me to pieces with a smile on his face if given the order.
I hesitate, wanting to bolt off in the direction of Chelsea, but the attempt would be useless. I should wait for Sam. At least then he could tell me where she is, and if she’s okay, all things considered. The knowledge sinks like a lead weight in my gut.
Heaving like a wild beast, I assess my situation. Hazel eyes darting through the room, looking for the weakest link. Unfortunately, I don’t clock one, hanging my head with a sigh.
Ungraciously, I accept the fact I’m far beyond completely fucked…and outnumbered.
Defeated.
“I wasn’t informed you were such a fighter,” Maximus taunts. Shoving himself off the wall, he crosses the room, sandals slapping against his bare feet as he circles me.
Every one of my senses fires to life as his hot breath fans across the back of my neck. He stands ominously behind me, eyes scanning my skin like a hot brand. “Richmond,” he snaps, loud and authoritative, fingertips lightly tracing the tail of my skeletal dragon.
A man steps forward, emerging from a darkened corner of the room. His stark white hair is short on the sides and longer on the top, slicked back with a few stray tendrils covering his left eye.
“Take her to the stables, break her in.”
Richmond storms toward me, swift and terrifying. A thousand objections stumble on my tongue, but my ability to form words has evaded me.
Backing away, I bump into the body behind me, ending up flush with Maximus’s chest. His cold hands clamp around my upper arms, nails digging deep enough to leave crescent-shaped blooms of blood, just as Richmond’s bony elbow collides with my jaw.
Vision darkening, the pain threatens to sweep me away. But before I black out, I’m aware of being thrown over Richmond’s shoulder.
A fall from this height might actually kill me.
Exhaustion wraps itself around every inch of my being, pulling me into its embrace. The well of adrenaline keeping me going finally running dry.
As my head hangs limp, Maximus’s words sound muffled and distant.
“I have a meeting, so keep her quiet.”