The fucking world was working against me.
Chapter 22
Lielit
Bouda fed us on small prey from the island. My attempt at fishing had gone badly. I should have watched more survival programmes. I lost count of the days, but we heard the helicopter arrive and watched it leave beneath the canopy of trees. It didn’t hover or search for me.
It left the island.
The house was empty.
There were no electronic devices and no phones that worked. I couldn’t reach my family or call for help.
The first thing I did was go into the freak’s bedroom. My jaw fell when I saw the clinical room. It was all white.
White walls. White sheets. White furniture. Only the curtains were black.
I sniffed the air.
Disinfectant.
I guessed that explained the gloves.
The bed was larger than mine. I eyed the white monstrosity, and part of me wanted to jump on it and crease the pristine sheets. The worst part of me wanted to squat down and piss all over it.
Bouda began to laugh—uncontrollably.
I smiled at the high-pitched sound. It sat somewhere between hiccups and laughter.
Do it. Mark his bed, she chuckled.
The dickhead isn’t worth it, I said, still smiling. I’m glad you’re here, Bouda.
She curled up in my chest.
I think she felt the same.
When I opened his closet, I did a double-take. Every T-shirt was immaculately ironed and folded. Shirts, trousers, sweaters, and jackets hung on their hangers. Every single hanger was perfectly spaced. The jackets had a little more room between them—but damn. Blaidd Prothero was a fucking psycho bastard. My gut instinct had been right.
Do it, Bouda whispered like a devil on my shoulder.
I grinned and began mixing the trousers, shirts, and jackets, ensuring all the hangers sat crooked. I rumpled the T-shirts and yanked open drawers. The socks were boring, but the perfectly coiled ties in their neat square boxes were ruined by the time I finished.
I sighed, glancing at the chaos before turning to leave.
I should have cut them all up.
We walked past my bedroom and I paused at the open doorway. I didn’t look in. Instead, I rushed past it to explore the rest of the bedrooms, bathrooms, and the attic. To my surprise, many of the rooms were bare, with little to no furniture.
Either he didn’t use this house often, or it was a newer purchase.
I rummaged through the kitchen and found a full pantry and fridge. The freezer was jam-packed with meat and vegetables. The meat was sealed in neat plastic, all labelled.
I made myself a sandwich and drank some apple juice with it. Cold-pressed and organic, of course. Only the best for dickface.
Miscommunication.
The fucking audacity of the man.
