Page 32 of Ricochet
I was standing at the front door, knocking, and then… And then nothing. I abruptly stood up, a wave of dizziness almost knocking me off my feet. For fuck’s sake, get a grip.
I looked to my left, noticing a door for the first time. Was it going to be unlocked? Time to find out if I was a prisoner or a guest.
I stepped around the bed heading toward the door and took additional inventory of the room. The walls were barren of any pictures. There were no books or any personal snippets, which told me that this room wasn’t used very often. The air here had an earthy scent, reminding me of rainy days in Croyford Bay. Was I underground? Maybe some sort of a basement?
But the room looked too nice to be placed in a basement. The silky sheets I woke up entangled in must cost more than somebody’s monthly wage. Even the pillow beneath my head felt heavenly. So why was I here?
The doorknob in my hand turned without any resistance, and relief washed over me at the small action. Maybe I wasn’t a prisoner after all.
I swung the door open with my heart in my throat, expecting somebody in front of the door. But nobody was there—only an empty, illuminated hallway, stretching on both sides. I couldn’t stay inside the room forever, and I needed answers. The eerie atmosphere reminded me of that scene in the movieResident Evil, when Alice wakes up in the shower, with no recollection of her past. I was unfortunately very well aware of mine. Well, all except for the last couple of hours. I hoped it was hours, because if I had been knocked out for days on end, I would be majorly pissed off.
If anyone ever asked me what is one word to describe my life, I would say clusterfuck. And not a small one. Oh no. The Ragnarok proportions. And I didn’t mean Marvel’sRagnarok, where we got a half-naked Thor and Loki in all of their glory.
No, my version was Odin being swallowed by the giant wolf, Fenrir. The end of everything.
If you didn’t realize by now, I was Odin in this story.
I passed several doors, my head throbbing at my temples, when another memory resurfaced.
Theo had called me.
“You need to come to New York,” he demanded. “Maya came back, and I need you here.”
Maya was our sister. The sister we all failed. I’ve been trying to track her whereabouts for years now. She wasn’t there when I went to the house. Nobody was.
I snickered because the fucker did what I assumed he would do.
He lied to me.
Four years ago, I ran away from our families, from the life I knew. I knew I could never return. That slimy little toad told me the Nightingales weren’t in town.
“They’re out. All of them are in Croyford Bay,” Theo confirmed.
When I pulled in front of the house, I didn’t see anything unusual. When you’re running from the Nightingale family, you learn to keep an eye out for anything unusual—lone cars, suspicious people... you get the drill. But I didn’t see anything.
I’ve managed to avoid all of them for the last four years. I cut all ties with my old friends. I didn’t have social media accounts. I kept my head down and my mouth shut. Out there, I wasn’t Ophelia Aster.
I was nobody.
And I waited. I waited until Theo called me, which I knew he would. I wasn’t surprised Maya had been nowhere near the house. I also wasn’t surprised that one of the asses he liked to kiss most probably had been.
My heart had put me in this situation, and while Theo was sure to scheme and use my one weakness against me, I just couldn’t pass this opportunity. Even if it meant I would end up here.
I just hoped I was right.
The hallway ended with a staircase leading upstairs. I was right then; this was the basement. I stumbled up the stairs, my heart beating rapidly, threatening to jump out of my chest. Time stood still as I walked through the foyer of what seemed to be a massive house and scanned the area, looking for a possible weapon to take with me. Whoever stripped my clothes, took away my knives and my gun.
I saw a set of keys on one of the tables with a vase filled with white roses, and grabbed them, clenching them between my fingers. It wasn’t like there were any guns or knives, so this would have to do. Maybe I could stab them in the eye.
At this point I wouldn’t be surprised to stumble upon a couple of mutant rabbits, or zombies. Please, if there are zombies, please don’t let them be the fast ones. I was a terrible runner. I would probably trip over my feet and die in the process. I walked toward the window, but the sight in front was unfamiliar to me. As a matter of fact, this whole house was unfamiliar to me. The whole area was covered in heaps of snow, glittering under the moonlight. I could see the fountain in the middle of a roundabout, and nothing else. October in Croyford Bay was cold, but not this cold. Not nine-feet-of-snow cold.
“Where the fuck am I?” I mumbled. A sudden movement on my right side sent a jolt of fear mixed with excitement through me, making me realize I was not as alone as I thought I was.
“Hello.” The chilling feeling in my bones had nothing to do with the actual temperature of the house anymore, but everything to do with my emotions skyrocketing. “Is anybody here?”
A million and one thoughts about human trafficking and horrors I could be facing ran through my head. What did I tell you before? A fucking Ragnarok. I expected shit to happen, but I preferred to know what I was getting myself into.
“Please,” I whispered. Nothing brings men down to their knees like a damsel in distress. “What is this place?”
