“Fine, miss.”
That was it. No reciprocal conversation. I didn’t bother asking where we were going. I knew as soon as he turned up the hill that it was to Mitchell’s. I wasn’t disappointed. On the contrary, I was relieved. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to a restaurant in town, where people would havelotsto say aboutme and some mysterious stranger. Especially when said stranger was suddenly not in town a short time after.
Plus, earlier in the week, Sarah had freaked out when her boss had casually mentioned that Mitchell’s home had been designed by one of her favorite architects. She’d asked me about all the features, and I’d been embarrassed to tell her I hadn’t seen much of the place, but I promised her the next time I was there, I’d insist he give me a tour.
But tonight, I knew I wouldn’t be calling the shots. And I was ready for it. More than ready.
When we approached the gate though, I was surprised to see it had been left open. My surprise turned to concern when the driver told me this was as far as he was going.
“The house is a good kilometer up the driveway,” I said.
“Sorry, Miss.” He left his seat and came around to open my door. “My instructions were to drop you here. And to give you this.”
In his hand, he held a flashlight and an envelope.
My stomach flipped as I started to get an inkling of what might be happening. I swallowed, taking the objects, then looking at the darkness of the forest the driveway disappeared into.
“Mitchell,” I whispered. “You didn’t.”
The pop of gravel behind me made me turn, my heart thumping hard. The driver was pulling away. I was on Mitchell’s lonely street, with no other houses in view. And…I turned around frantically. I’d left the tote bag I’d packed in the backseat. “Hey!” I called, waving.
But the car didn’t stop. Its taillights glowed in the dusk and disappeared as it rounded the corner.
“Shit.” I knew I could probably easily get my bag back, though maybe not in time for tonight. I’d packed a change of clothes, a bathing suit, and a box of condoms. I didn’t know what I’d need, though surely Mitch had the last thing. Mywallet was in there too. But my phone... I patted my jeans, letting out a sigh of relief as I felt it in my back pocket. I could still call someone. I could get a taxi. Cher could be up here in ten minutes. I checked for any last-minute instructional text from Mitchell. But there was nothing on my screen except the photo of Ryan and Calvin they’d sent me from their Thanksgiving visit last week.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket. I couldn’t look at them. Not with my mind where it was.
I didn’t want to leave.
Because even though my heart was beating hard, my breathing shallow, I didn’t feel unsafe. I felt a low-level thrum of basic self-preservation-based fear, of course. My stomach wobbled with it. But my core also throbbed, a slickness soaking the gusset of my underwear as I walked forward, past the threshold of Mitchell’s property. This was Mitchell’s plan.
This was actually happening. This was exactly what I'd wanted.
I took a breath. “I got this,” I whispered, keeping my footsteps steady.
I jumped at a low rumbling sound behind me. The gate was rolling closed. I swallowed as it connected with the wall, the lock clicking into place. No turning back now.
There was just enough dusk that the path in front of me was visible without the flashlight, though there were dark clouds crowding in. It was going to rain. It wasn’t light enough to read the note though, so I flicked on the light, shining the beam at the square piece of paper in my sweaty hand.Winona,it said, in slanting ink. I’d never seen Mitchell’s handwriting. His penmanship was sexy, with its low, languid strokes of ink.
I flipped the envelope over, sliding my finger through the back flap. On the front of the card was a black andwhite image: a woodcut forest scene, with a castle tucked into trees at the top of a hill, a full moon carved into the background.
A cursed castle.
A tingling ran up the back of my neck. I was deeply aware of the darkness pressing in around me.
I opened the card. There was only one word written there.
Run.
The flashlight slipped from my hand, thudding softly onto the gravel. A moment later, a single snap of a twig in the forest sounded behind me.
I let out a whimper of real fear.
Then I did as the card said.
I ran. I pumped my legs, adrenaline ripping through me. I stuck to the driveway at first, sprinting up the curved path as it wound through the trees. I thought I heard something in the woods to my left, but I was breathing so hard, my blood roaring in my ears, I couldn’t be sure.
And I’d left the flashlight behind.
