My heart picked up at the feel of Nestore’s scarred palm in mine. We had held hands before, but this felt different.
He tugged me toward the emergency exit. Despite his limp, he was fast. His body was battered, but the strength he harbored carried him up the stairs with surprising speed. I had trouble keeping up with his long strides, but pushed myself as hard as I could. Hope seemed to carry me when my legs couldn’t.
Nestore led us to a back door near the kitchens that I had never seen. He immediately recognized the correct keys from the bundle and unlocked the door, then tugged me outside. For a moment, he froze and sucked in a deep breath. His eyes lit up in wonder as he gazed up at the sky. He hadn’t seen the sky in two years, hadn’t felt a breeze on his skin. Tears stung in my eyes. I should have risked this far sooner.
He peered down at me and shook his head. “No regrets, Amelia. I never wanted you to risk anything for me. You already put your life on the line by feeding me and giving me medicine.”
He scanned our surroundings. “Who are the guards?”
I tried to remember whose shift it was, then named the four guards who would walk the perimeter today.
Nestore’s jaw tightened. Three of the men used to be his father’s. “If they kept the same routine, I know where to slip out.”
“What about the dogs?”
“They know me. We have to hope that’s enough.”
Nestore’s hand around mine tightened as he pulled me along the house wall, then toward the pool pavilion before we hurried over a long stretch of lawn that lay in the dark.
Barks sounded, followed by shouts and the beams of flashlights cutting through the dark.
“No,” I gasped out.
The snarls and barks came closer. Nestore dragged me into the maze. I had never set foot inside it, always remembering the story of his mother. Nestore’s hand squeezed mine as he tugged me along, turning one corner after the other. It was near black within the maze. The high wall of roses didn’t allow much light to penetrate the aisles, and even the moonlight got stuck at the edges. The thorns snatched at my nightgown and hair as we brushed past the rose bushes. My breath came in short, pained gasps, my sides screaming with pain. I wondered how Nestore could run like this after years in the cage, but his workouts must have preserved some of his former strength.
The maze distorted the barks and voices that chased us. How close were our hunters?
How could we escape from this?
“I know how to get out on the other side. We just need to outrun the dogs.”
I would have laughed if I had enough breath left for it.
Another bark sounded. Too close. Nestore threw a glance over his shoulder, then pivoted, so I was behind him, shielded by his body as a big beast of a dog chased down the aisle toward us. A scream lodged in my throat. Everything happened too fast after that. The dog lunged at Nestore and took him down. I slung my purse over my head, bringing it down on the dog’s back, hoping to get him off Nestore. Nestore had the beast by the collar, trying to stop it from ripping into his face. With a battle cry, Nestore managed to shove the dog off him, so it landed on its side. That didn’t stop it for long. It lunged again, but this time, Nestore brandished one of the keys like a knife and rammed it into the dog’s belly with enough force to pierce the skin. The dog yowled and jerked away, limping off, then dropped to the ground at the corner. Before either Nestore or I could get our bearings, four guards rounded the corner and pointed their weapons at us.
“No,” I whispered, terror filling me up. Nestore gave me a sad smile. One of the men stepped forward. He held a stun gun. The prongs shot out and hit Nestore. Gasping, he sank to the ground and began to spasm.
“Stop it!” I begged, but they didn’t stop until Nestore lost consciousness. My father appeared behind the guards. Even in the dark, I could make out the utter rage on his face.
Fear overcame me. For Nestore. For myself. For Flavia and the baby. What would happen to us now?
Father stalked toward Nestore and began to kick him hard in the side and the stomach.
“Stop it!” I screamed, taking a step forward to intervene. Father’s hateful gaze hit me as he let up from Nestore and advanced on me. I backed away until the thorns pierced my back.
Father raised his arm and backhanded me across the face. My lip burned fiercely, and the taste of copper coated my tongue. “You traitorous bitch.”
Another slap, even harder, hit my cheek and mouth. My head rang as I went down to my knees, my cheek stinging fiercely. I swallowed spit and blood, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Cruel hands gripped my hair. I clasped his wrists to keep some weight off my scalp, but it still hurt. He dragged me after him, and I had no chance to get on my feet. I was crying from pain and terror by the time we reached the basement.
Two guards tossed an unconscious Nestore into his cell before they locked it. Father held me upright by my hair, his expression brimming with fury and disgust as he peered down at me.
With a snarl, he shoved me toward another cell. I stumbled inside and dropped to my knees. Not wanting to kneel in front of my father, I shoved to my feet and clutched the bars to steady myself and get my bearings. Father locked the door and tossed the keys to the lanky guy by his side with an evil gleam in his eyes. “Bury them in the garden. I won’t need them again.” His cruel gaze hit me. “This will be your tomb, whore. No daughter of mine betrays her own blood to help a gutter rat.”
“Leave her alone,” Nestore growled in a raw voice as he dragged himself to his legs. His body was too weak and battered for this. Fear for him burned through me.
Father’s answering grin turned my blood to ice.
“Unlock the door,” he ordered the older, heavyset man, who didn’t hesitate to open Nestore’s cell.
