His overly white teeth flashed as he grinned. “You’re still going in the wrong direction. Please...allow me to guide you into Cinderkeep.” He reached for my elbow.
I scrambled back so fast, I almost fell over.
My eyes skimmed a few of the women all climbing sadly into the buses. What would I give to trade with them? Did that make me a horrible person that I would put their life in danger just so I could get out of here?
Probably did. But I’d already come to terms with who I was.
I was a self-confessed slacker. I had a gold star in doing the bare minimum, a diploma in laziness, and a lifetime achievement award in procrastination.
And all of those skills doomed me to hell as the man nudged me toward the gatehouse, not touching me, but giving clear signals that he’d happily toss me over his shoulder if I tried to run again.
I racked my throbbing brain for a solution.
If only I went to the gym and was good at cardio. If only I’d trained to fight and had a wicked right hook. If only I’d stayed in that smoky, gloomy pub and hadn’t been greedy.
Sighing heavily, I shuffled to join the eager women who’d already passed through the double doors of the gatehouse and were boarding a different kind of vehicle. A line-up ofmatte black, window-tinted Mercedes-Benz G-Wagons were the chariots of choice, swallowing up four women at a time before pulling away with the purr of obscene wealth.
Each of those could buy a small house, yet whoever owned this estate hadtwelveof them.
Evelyn and Lydia pursed their lips as I noticed them heading toward a boxy-looking wagon with two other girls. Lydia whispered something to Evelyn. Evelyn laughed. And just as Lydia climbed into the front seat, she dragged her finger along her throat and pointed at me.
One of the men placed his hand on my lower back, pushing me forward.
My headache threatened to turn into a migraine as I closed my eyes and fought the urge to blackout. I hadn’t been this stressed in years. I existed to avoid all manner of panic. I didn’t even watch angsty TV shows or read books that weren’t just fluff because the chemistry of my body had been irreparably ruined thanks tothatday.
They were lucky I didn’t vomit all over the pricey interior of the G-wagon they stuffed me into or burst their eardrums with a shrill scream as they slammed the door, pulled away, and drove me and three other women toward the palace shimmering in the sun.
* * * * *
“This is where we leave you,” Marcus said in his smarmy, suave voice.
We’d all been transplanted from one gatehouse to another. Unlike the other one with its ancient stone wall wriggling over the countryside like a giant snake—blocking the estate from nosy eyes—this one looked like a prison.
Not stamped with time or weathered by storms, the rock was scrubbed clean of any moss or debris while the top glittered with broken glass. Above the jagged shark-teeth glass shards, a single metal wire glinted like a garotte.
The falsehoods of a spa weekend were rapidly disintegrating under the truth.
Whatever this place was, whoever was imprisoned inside—it wasn’t a paradise of hot springs and massage rooms.
Finally, the other women started waking up. Some fidgeted. Some nudged each other. But most of them laughed and smirked as if they knew more than the rest of us.
“Once you’ve entered Cinderkeep, it’s up to you to choose where you’d like to stay. There are multiple pavilions dotted around the grounds and food will be delivered regularly. You’re welcome to use any of the facilities and we encourage you to enjoy yourselves.”
Clasping his hands in front of his suit, he smiled. “Each of you is uniquely qualified to enter and I wish you all good luck. Now...if you’re ready.” Sidestepping, he waved regally. “Please, go ahead.”
Another set of double doors swept open, these ones quiet and well-oiled. But thick. And fashioned from iron. With multiple locks to keep us in.
“Eh...but what about the spa treatments?” a tall woman asked quietly. “Isn’t there a schedule? Some sort of menu of what’s on offer?”
“You’ll find all of that in your pavilion.” Marcus grinned, his eyes flat and cold.
“I think I’ve changed my mind,” another dark-skinned, pretty woman said. “I’d like to go back to London, please.”
“Unfortunately, all transportation has ceased for the day,” Marcus said softly. “But rest assured, come Sunday evening, we’ll have you back there in a jiffy.”
A few women glanced at each other, fear blazing in their eyes.
And yet...those showing worry were so few. Maybe only five or six. The rest of the women balled their hands as if going to war, braced their spines, and marched with full purpose through the doors without a backward glance.
