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All the people that cared about me and this child. The people I loved… They were in danger.
I wanted to reach over and give him one last hug, but Gervaise stopped me yet again, pulling me back. He took my hand and wrapped it around one of the large knives he had grabbed.
There were more loud noises coming from down the hall, and I could tell someone was struggling while someone else was quickly heading towards us.
With one last look at our fallen friend, Gervaise pulled me along after him out the barely-used utility room entrance from the kitchen, to where the large deliveries were usually handled for the château.
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Chapter 37
It was hard to hear anything past the blood that was wanting to rush to my head, my ears feeling as though they were filled with cotton. I still hadn’t fully processed the fact that Alain was dead, and that possibly we might be next.
In my head I sort of separated the incident back home from my real life, trying to compartmentalize everything in my head and make it easier for me to deal with everything. This though… There was no separating this. The men had come to my home, and now it was personal.
Even with the fear that was invading my every thought, there was also a tinge of rage flooding my vision. I was angry as hell, and I knew that there was no way I was going down without a fight this time. I was tired of running, tired of living a lie, and it only took one of my close friends dying for me to realize that.
I shook my head as Gervaise and I crept up against the wall, ducking under the windowsills as we passed each one, hoping to God no one would see us.
“This way,” he hissed under his breath, pulling me along. I didn’t know where we were going, but I hoped that everyone else inside the château had found a similar place to hide as well.
We rounded the back corner of the château’s east wing when I realized there was a small metal door in the ground not too far from our feet. How had I not noticed this before?
Gervaise looked around, scoping out our surroundings before hunching over and yanking at the door. Before he had a chance to open it up, however, we heard more yelling from alongside the front of the château. Someone was coming our way again, and even though we were around the corner, Gervaise peeked his head around to see if he could see who it was.
A gunshot ricocheted off the wall only a few feet shy of him, and he whipped back around, pure terror in his eyes, before yanking the door open with all of his might, this time finally succeeding. One of them had spotted us.
“In!” he demanded, gesturing for me to quickly go in front of him.
I could feel anxiety creeping in on me once more. I had no idea what was down there, bu
t I could only hope that it was safe enough for us both.
I descended the steps as quickly yet carefully as I could, trying to make sure that I did not slip on each small ladder rung. It was a short way down, and it smelled musty and dank. Once Gervaise had lowered himself down to the floor next to me, he reached around a wall before flipping on a small light switch that lit up the room.
There were six wide aisles filled of empty wine cellar racks, the cobwebs creeping down each aisle, and mold clearly setting in on the wood itself. It wasn’t exactly healthy for me to be breathing in the air down here, but it was damn sure healthier than getting kidnapped and killed.
Gervaise quietly reached up to pull the door shut over top of us, making me feel as if we were walking ourselves into a prison cell.
Even in the dim light I could see his fear, carving out the features on his face. His eyes were wide, and his pupils were dilated. He held the knife close to him, and tried to breathe in deep breaths. It did not make me feel much better to know that this man was just as scared as I was.
From outside we could hear people yelling to each other, including what sounded like Marie, but I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want to go down that road, and I knew Gervaise would be adamant against us opening the door to check on her. I was actually surprised no one had tried the door yet, and wondered if maybe it was hidden well enough that nobody would see us. I had a bad feeling though that I wasn’t quite that lucky.
All of a sudden more shots rang out, and I clutched my belly, wishing I could shield my baby from all the noise. Even though we were down in the Earth, away from everything, it was still so loud. I began to shake violently, my mind reeling and trying to take me back into the clutches of another nightmare. I couldn’t handle it, and had to steady my breath before I started to hyperventilate.
“Merde,” Gervaise mumbled to himself, keeping a tight hand on the doors’ latch. I wasn’t sure if him holding onto it would work if there was somebody on the other side of it trying to get in, but I certainly hoped it would.
My breathing was so erratic that it started to freak me out, making me worry not for myself but for my son’s sake. I had to make sure that I calmed down, and had to keep quiet. I needed to go to that place in my head that I didn’t want to go. That place that I was always worried I would never come back from.
In my mind’s eye I saw myself from the outside looking in, noticing the tension in my face, and the way I repeatedly squeezed my arms around my belly, as if I were offering extra safety that way.
Part of me wanted to scream at myself, part of me wanted to leave this place and make sure everybody else was okay. And still another part of me wished I could crawl up into a ball and forget any of this ever happened.
I was torn emotionally and had no words of encouragement to offer Gervaise who looked just as terrified as I felt. I wanted to thank him somehow, but no words would come.
It was quiet now outside, and dread was starting to settle down even deeper in my heart. Why is it so quiet?
I wished Julien was here holding my hand, rubbing my back and telling me that this was all just a dream I had woken up from in the middle the night again. I could hear him now, whispering to me in my ear that I was safe. That he would make sure nobody was going to get me. It was nice hearing it all those nights, even though it was no longer true anymore.
