Page 40 of The Castle (Endgame 3)
“Maybe we can visit the Den one of these days. We’ll get Gabriel to take us.”
A pause. “He needs help.”
My chest constricts. I want to refute her claim as the mutterings of a crazy woman. She’s unhinged, isn’t she? Why am I listening to her? But I have a feeling she sees more than any of us—more than me and more than Gabriel. Even more than the cameras that watch us from hidden perches.
Unlike those cameras, she sees what’s missing.
Unlike those microphones, she hears what isn’t spoken.
I bite my lip, struggling with the question. “Do you ever hear voices? Voices that aren’t there?”
Her blue eyes meet mine. “You definitely can’t trust me.”
“What?”
“Run and tell your daddy that Jonathan Scott is here.”
That’s when I realize she isn’t speaking anymore, she’s recounting a memory. One that replays in her head. Electric current runs through my body, hot and sharp.
The man who terrorized her, Jonathan Scott. That’s what he said to her.
And it’s what she hears over and over.
It seems normal to hear the voice of your attacker, the echo of that terror long after the act. Except I didn’t experience an assault. Did I? I wasn’t attacked and nearly drowned by a maniac. Was I? Would I even remember if that happened?
Footsteps approach the kitchen door, and I straighten. Is Gabriel back? Hope leaps to my throat.
The door swings open, revealing Anders carrying a bag. For Penny’s weekly checkup. I forgot about that. I try not to let the disappointment show on my expression.
He stops at the table, his cheeks ruddy from the wind outside. “How are you feeling?”
“I used to dream about trees,” Penny says, her voice almost melodic. “About sunshine. And dirt.”
He nods as if that’s a perfectly normal medical answer. “Better, then.”
“I know it doesn’t sound pretty—dirt. The smell of it, thick and strong. It means you’re free.”
This kitchen smells like warm biscuits and something sweet. The hint of wood polish, its oils caught in the deep grooves on the table. These are comforting smells, but they aren’t freedom.
“You can still dream about them,” I tell her softly.
“What’s the point?”
“Dreams don’t need to have a purpose. They’re part of living.”
“If they’re part of living, then they’re part of dying.”
I give her a secret smile. “I don’t think you’re quite as dire as you pretend to be.”
She peers into her oatmeal, examining the almost gooey consistency as it cools. Well, she might not be as dire as she wants to be. I’m not as unconcerned as I pretend to be, either.
Anders’s blue eyes glint like ice. “And how are you?”
“I wasn’t hurt,” I say, indignant now.
Gabriel has been shot. Penny was brutally attacked. And Anders acts like I’m the one who’s going to break into a million pieces. I’m not that fragile.
He makes a noncommittal sound.
“I’m just worried. About Gabriel.” I close my eyes. “He was supposed to be back by now.”
“He can take care of himself.”
I give him a pointed look. “So can I.”
His laugh rumbles through the heavy table. “Come on, broken bird. We’re going to check you out. This one’s still in denial.”
I look down at my dark coffee and swirl the spoon. Denial? Maybe so. Gabriel might be in trouble, but I don’t know how I can help him. I’m trapped in this castle, held in by a well-trained security team. They won’t hurt me, but they won’t let me leave. So maybe they are the metal grate locked on top. And this is the pool filled with water.
Then there’s nothing left for me to do but drown.Chapter Twenty-TwoWhen Gabriel has been gone for three weeks, I know something is very wrong.
Penny still takes a nap once a day, doctor’s orders. With her body still weakened from the ordeal, she falls asleep soon after I pull the covers over her.
Then I return to the kitchen, where our dishes from lunch have been cleared from the sink. Mrs. B works efficiently and, for the most part, invisibly. I rarely see her unless I’m looking for something, when she magically appears.
Kind of like a fairy godmother but with more silent pity.
I follow the hallway where Gabriel took me once to find the room with the surveillance equipment. The door is closed, but it opens as I approach. Of course they could see me coming.
The man named West gives me a polite nod. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m wondering if…” My hands twist together. “Well, I’m wondering if you’ve heard from Gabriel. He was supposed to be back by now.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says, sounding genuinely regretful. “I can’t share that information.”
I blink. “You mean you don’t know, or you can’t tell me?”
“The second one. I’ll tell Blue that you spoke with me. He’s my boss, the one who owns Blue Security. He’ll be in touch with you later today.”
