AllFreeNovel
Share Us
TWENTY-NINE
ALFIE
Petros pulled the old banger of a car into the little clearing in the forest down a rarely-used back path. My ass ached from the long ride from Glasgow. Rosenhall was deep in the Highlands, and we’d been on the road for hours. More than anything, I wanted a cup of tea and a sit-down, not a clandestine mission in my own home.
We got out and traipsed through the woods, the tension of being stuck together in the car not reducing despite the expanse of the woods around us.
The walls were a sight for sore eyes when they veered into view. However much I’d struggled with my childhood with my adoptive father, Rosenhall had always held a magic for me. Fighting make-believe monsters in the woods with sticks. Exploring the lesser-used areas of the house before it had been turned into the extensive hedonistic retreat it now was. Before the spa, the basement had housed boxes and boxes of forgotten delights that childhood me had adored.
Without my father inside, the castle greeted me like an old friend.
Harriet’s hand grasped my arm briefly before she snatched it back with a wide-eyed look. Clearing her throat, she carefully pressed a glare back into her features. ‘No funny business. I swear to God, I’ll—’
‘Yeah,’ I said, starting back up towards the house. ‘You’ll sever my bollocks and feed me them. Or skin me and stuff me like an oversized teddy bear. Or bite me with your venomous little mouth. I get it.’
Petros snorted beside me before coughing to try and hide his reaction.
Harriet grumbled behind me but kept following regardless.
‘I should go in first,’ I said. ‘In case there’s something on.’
‘There’s hardly a car in sight and no noise. We go in together.’ Harriet pushed past me, forest floor foliage crackling beneath her boots. She hovered as we reached the paved area to the side of the house.
‘This way.’ I led us towards the back entrance, hoping the staff entrance still had the same keycode.’ Otherwise, I’d need to get Grieves out of his bed by knocking on the front door. Ideally, I’d get them in and out with the bloody list Harriet craved so badly without anyone noticing.
The steel buttons were cold against my fingertips. I punched in the last working code I knew. Red light.
‘Fuck,’ I whispered.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and thought back. The staff codes always worked in a pattern. The numbers on the outside cycled upward each week, while the numbers in the middle cycled down. They were changed weekly. I had no idea how long I’d been gone. My last visit to Rosenhall was a month before they took me. I’d used the staff entrance to sneak in, so the partying guests wouldn’t drag me into a sex game, as they so often did.
‘How long have I been with you guys?’ I asked.
Petros audibly swallowed before answering, ‘Eight weeks.’
Fuck. I’d been missing for two whole months?
The last code had been two-seven-nine-one. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine a bike lock, the numbers shifting as I counted. My brain felt like mush after weeks of barely using it for anything but wallowing in pity.
‘Four,’ I said. ‘Remember that.’
I kept cycling the numbers.
‘Four Five Seven Three.’
I hoped.
I keyed in the code and held my breath at the delay. Green. We were in. With apprehension prickling at my skin, I opened the door. Silence awaited.
We closed the door behind us, and Harriet pulled out a tiny torch, lighting up the rooms I knew so well. I’d spent almost as much time in the staff areas as I had in the house. The chefs and cleaners doted on me and showed me what kindness could be in a home devoid of it. I almost wished they were there to greet us. I wanted them to know I wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere.
Making our way silently into the main part of the house, I froze as soft music floated from one of the large living rooms. I sincerely hoped that Grieves had just forgotten to turn it off. The rich jazz music floated towards us, increasing in volume the closer we got to the doorway. Trying to walk as silently as possible, we crept past, only daring to breathe as we neared the end of the corridor.
The smooth bannister was cool beneath my palm as I led them up the stairs, all of us pausing as a step creaked beneath Petros’ feet.
My own pulse thrummed in my ear as we waited, listening intently. Bar the far-off music, there was nothing.
Rounding the stairwell, we reached the landing. Almost there. I hadn’t been in Dad’s office for years. His business affairs had largely gone digital before I took over, and his slew of accountants, lawyers, and dodgy fuckers kept it all running smoothly for me.
