The threat hangs between us until he releases my arms. I stumble forward and use the momentum to propel myself back up the stairs to my temporary room. I don’t look back at Dax or catch Sylvie’s watchful eye.
*
Wide-leg, linen trousers and a silk blouse fall loosely on my underfed bones. The blouse especially. It hangs awkwardly, but I’m grateful that they are clean and smell good. They’re also nicer than anything I own. I glance at my reflection and see a grown woman staring back. A little less bruising and a few more meals, and I might pass as someone who belongs here.
A knock sounds at the door. I consider ignoring it so I don’t end up in another face off with Dax. He’s already taken up enough of my morning, but a second insistent knock changes my mind.
“What?” I snap opening the door to find a startled looking Sylvie.Well, shit. “Sorry, I thought you were Dax.” My attempt at a smile falls flat. Her brows raise but she says nothing, she just stares at me awkwardly until I fill the silence. “Thank you for the clothes.”
“No problem.”
“Okay, well, uh…it’s really kind of you, but I’ll talk to Dax about getting my own things.”
“Fine,” she replies bluntly. “I’m going to show you the house and the grounds and answer your questions.” Her smile and chirpy attitude from the kitchen have vanished entirely. Taking me for a tour seems to be the last thing she wants to do.
“You really don’t have to…”
“You don’t want to?” She takes a step back, her expression floods with disappointment.
Shit, have I offended her? Why can’t I get my bearings with her?
“No, I’d love to, I just don’t want to interrupt your plans. None of us expected me to be here.”
“No, we didn’t, but here you are anyway. At least we can keep a close eye on you here.” She stares at me unblinkingly. Her words feel like a challenge. They could easily be taken as aggression or forgiven as concern. Which is it though? Do I call her on it and risk being wrong, or do I let it go and chalk my annoyance up to Dax winding me up?
Sensing my irritation, she lays on another of her disarmingly wide smiles and breaks the tension. “Plus, I am looking forward to finding out all about you and what happened to Tom.”
Now, that part doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I’m of no interest to this girl, but the information I can give her—the details of that night which Dax has presumably protected her from—are currency to her. She smiles again. I look for signs of artifice in the bright carefree expression but she’s either genuine or a skilled liar.
“Okay. Finish getting ready. I’ll meet you downstairs at the front door.”
I nod. “See you in five?”
“Five,” she agrees, offering a little wave as she dances off.
I can’t help but wonder if the hot and cold thing is a learned behavioural trait. She went from antagonistic to endearing in seconds. Like flipping a switch. Dax is the same way. Is it inbred or something they learned? Regardless, it reminds me to keep my wits about me. If I can’t sense where I stand with them, then I need to stand apart from them.
Stepping into my sneakers, and completely ruining my ensemble, I jog down the apartment stairs and out into the main body of the Compound. Out here, I’m even more of a fraud. An interloper. Vale girl in wonderland.
I might not know my way around, but getting to the front door isn’t too hard when I can see it from over the balustrade. Sylvie isn’t there yet, but I could use some air and if I keep the door open,she’ll see me waiting outside. I zip down the grand staircase and then stop, hearing my name spoken from somewhere below.
“We keep it secret. From what I can tell, the girl didn’t see anything,” a deep rich voice, I almost recognise, whispers.
“It’s better to fess up now, Frank. There are vipers in this nest. The girl being here puts us all at risk of being found out. You think Franz is going to stop hunting her?” another voice whispers back. Though not quietly enough because I hear him clearly. In fact, if it’s who I think it is, then this is the second time I’ve eavesdropped on his conversation while hiding on a staircase.
“Franz is smart enough to wait until he gets an opportunity that won’t risk his people inside, Ben. You know that as well as I do. If he reveals his spy’s identity now, he risks fucking up future plans.”
“He’d better. An attack on the compound—”
“There won’t be an attack on the compound. Trust me.”
I don’t realise I’ve backed up the stairs until my heel strikes the baseboard where the stairs curve. I almost laugh at the irony of making the same damn mistake that caught me out the first time.
“What was that? Did you hear something?” Heels traipsing across the wooden floor, approach the stairs. I don’t wait around to get caught. I leap up the remaining stairs three at a time and throw myself through the open double doors at the top of the landing. The dining room if memory serves. Pressing my back to the wall, I breathe hard. Three inhales and exhales before I hold my breath and screw my eyes shut, listening for footfalls racing up the stairs, but there are none.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
My eyes fly open to find Dax at the far end of the room. He sits at the head of a huge table with a stack of paperwork in front of him. His laptop is open and shoved to the side, and a steaming mug of coffee is in his fist; the smell of it reminds me I haven’t eaten or drank anything yet.
