Eventually she gets her way, and though she wanted to hop in the 4x4 immediately to head to New York City, I reason with her that it would be best if we left in the morning and got an early start so we could make it there by the afternoon tomorrow.
She grumps about it, but eventually she gives in. Still, I can tell Peony is quite peeved with me for our earlier conversation. I clearly hurt her deeply. She sleeps at my side that night, in her pajamas because she refused to have sex with me, which I suppose is understandable. But she still wanted to be with me at the end of the day, and that’s all I can ask for after what I said, after what I tried to do.
Just the thought of her leaving me makes me clutch her tighter.
peony
We’re up early the next day to get in Rupert’s car and head for the city, much to Kellen’s surprise. When I tell him we won’t be back until late tonight, he quirks a brow but seems to decide against asking questions when he registers the determined look on my face.
A few vans are parked outside the gate as it opens for us, and Rupert guns the engine. We take off down the road, the vans waking up and zooming after us.
Eventually, though, two hours in, they start to fall off like flies. Rupert lets out a deep breath as he drives.
“You have the satnav?” he asks.
“Straight on ahead, then we get off at the turnpike.”
We drive quietly for a few hours. I’m still stewing, annoyed at how Rupert thought he knew what was best for me, how he made the decision to exile me to some other house of his without telling me the truth about his curse first.
Eventually, as the distant skyline rises into view, we run into a traffic jam. After another hour, I guide Rupert off the highway, and we make our way down the narrow streets, deeper into the city. The immense skyscrapers tower over us, blocking out the sun. As we head closer to our destination, the buildings grow denser. The GPS guides us left, then right, until we’re in a narrow alleyway with many high windows and fire escapes. Finally, we come to a dead end.
“You’ve reached your destination,” it says.
In front of us appears to be a bar—or the rear side of one.
“Maybe he lives upstairs?” I ask. A pair of steps leads up above the bar to another entryway.
Rupert huffs. Then, to my surprise, he opens the car doorand gets out. I had expected he would hide in the car and I would go alone, but he seems determined now.
“Let’s go.” He gestures for me to follow him as he heads up the steps.
I close my door behind me and hurry after. The stairway’s metal frame whines under his weight, but Rupert pays it no attention as we reach the landing. Then he knocks on the door.
No one answers. We wait, and wait, and then Rupert knocks again. Finally, someone on the other side curses in a language I can’t understand, and the door flies open.
“What do you want?” a woman snaps, appearing in the doorway. A howl fills the air as the baby in her arms screams.
Rupert backs away, and the woman takes in the sight of what’s in front of her. The baby continues crying as she stares open-mouthed at him.
“Oh.” She adjusts the screaming infant. “It’s you.”
Now it’s both of our turns to stare back at her.
“You know me?” Rupert asks.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re all over the news.”
That’s true.
“But as soon as I saw you,” she goes on, passing the wailing baby from one arm to the other, “I knew his handiwork.”
Rupert and I exchange a glance. So we are at the right place.
“Can we talk?” I ask.
She narrows her eyes at us, the baby still screaming its head off. “Fine,” she says, “if that’s what it takes to make you go away.”
She sighs and beckons over her shoulder for us to follow her.
