“Good plan,” I say drily. I try to brush off some of the mix, but it sticks to my fingers and I shake them in disgust. “What the fuck did she put in this? Cement?”
I have to admire her ingenuity. Childish as fuck, but effective.
I’m still going to make her clean every inch of it, though.
It takes me more than an hour to scrub off the concoction in the shower, and when I jog down the kitchen steps, I’m expecting to see Stasi.
I check my watch. She should be here.
Ellen twists, a questioning look on her face. “Not here. I assumed you’d asked her to do something else.”
I did. I told her to run.
I wasn’t expecting her to actually fuckingrun, through.
I wave Ellen off, jogging to the door. “Anastasia!”
My bellow sends a flock of birds soaring from the trees, but there’s no sign of our wayward houseguest.
“Stasi!”
Nothing. Not that I can really blame her.
Swearing, I slam the door behind me and stalk towards the trees. She can’t be far.
But as I walk through the orchard, down towards the stream, I can’t find any trace of her anywhere. I retrace my steps, circling back on myself and searching through the thick trunks, my feet squelching in mounds of abandoned fruit that’s fallen from the trees around me.
And as the day crawls on, minutes turning into hours, the irritation starts to work its way back in. If she’s run from me – if she’s tried to use this as an opportunity to escape… I really will fucking spank her.
The thought sends a flicker of heat up my spine.
Where are you, Anastasia?
27 – Stasi
My feet are silent against the gravel as I take small, careful steps towards the back door.
This is fine. It’s all going to be fine.
Silas will be irritated as hell, but hedidtell me to run. I just… took him at his word. And if I spent the day climbing trees and wading in the icy cold stream, can he really tell me off if I was just doing exactly what he told me to do?
I bite my lip. I did hear him – or I thought I did – once. But he sounded so angry still that I figured it was best to climb up a little higher and wait.
Except then I fell asleep, full of apples and fresh air that went straight to my head. And now… it’s late. Possiblyverylate, judging from the position of the moon above my head.
Oh, God. This is not going to be fine.
Bracing myself for uproar, my hand twists the handle quietly, and I slip into the dark house.
My clothes are soaked, and I drop my shoes to the floor quietly. I’m not looking ahead, so when the shadow detachesfrom the doorway and warm hands land on my face, I let out a startled squeak before I can stop myself.
“Jesus Christ,” Kit chokes. He stares down into my face, his eyes travelling down to my soaked clothing. “Where have youbeen?”
Swallowing, I purse my lips. “Silas told me to run. So I ran. I just… forgot about the time.”
Kit scans me, as if making sure that I’m in one piece before he responds, his voice wry. “I should have known. Silas is not in the best of moods, you know.”
When I wince, amusement flits across his face, dampening the worry. “He searched for you all day. He looks almost as muddy as you do.”
