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“This house isn’t about fair arrangements. You should remember that.” I pushed past her.
Painting Brianna these past few days had distracted me from her, but now… now I wondered if perhaps I should give her a little taste, let her see a tiny peek of the real Gareth Montgomery. My paintings were a part of me, so sharing them would be like sharing a part of myself—and it wasn’t like I’d be telling her all of my secrets. It wasn’t like she’d know.
“Your uncle never told me that the pool house was off-limits,” Brianna huffed as she struggled to keep up with my pace. “Pretty sure he’s the one who sets the rules, even if he’s not here.”
I stopped just outside the back door to the house, whirling on her and causing her to slam into my chest. She immediately took two steps back. “If you step one foot in there, I’ll make you regret it,” I whispered darkly, meaning it.
She rolled her eyes at me, then purposefully stepped around me to get inside the house. She said not a thing more, probably because she believed me. Still, if I had to guess, I’d say I’d piqued her interest.
I’d never shown anyone my art before. Only my uncle, and he didn’t count. Brianna would be the first. Was it wrong to have a little twisted excitement over the possibility?
All I had to do was wait until the chef was gone, until it was just the two of us here. She’d probably wait until night had fallen and she thought I was asleep in my room. She’d believe she’d be safe in sneaking out of the house and trying to get into the pool house.
But I’d be waiting to hear her leave her room, and I’d be right behind her.
Chapter Nine – Brianna
I sat on my bed, playing with a mechanical pencil while trying to do my math homework. I didn’t really care about it much; if all else failed, I had the class in the afternoon, after my study hall, so I could always finish it then. I just couldn’t concentrate.
Gareth. Who the hell did he think he was, acting like that? Telling me where I was and wasn’t allowed to go? He’d told me before he owned this house, yes, and at the time I hadn’t cared much, but now… now it was just insulting.
I wasn’t a guest here. I lived here. I was his freaking stepsister. He couldn’t bully me like he bullied everyone else. I wouldn’t let him.
I wasn’t allowed in the pool house? I couldn’t see his work, even though he’d snooped and seen some of mine? Hell, he probably visited my art room anytime he wanted, and I couldn’t stop him. How was that fair?
It wasn’t, and that was why, instead of finishing my math homework, I sat there, plotting. I wanted to get in there and see what he was hiding. He had to be hiding something, though what that was, I had no clue. I’d find out.
After night fell, once he was in his room, I’d sneak over. The door might be locked, but maybe there’d be an open window or something; rich people never worried about that sort of thing, I feel like. I’d get in one way or another.
It became a waiting game. I waited until I heard footsteps walking down the hall, and then I waited some more. He went into his bathroom and then back into his room. It was almost midnight when I felt comfortable enough to slip out of my room and head down.
I wore no shoes, to be quieter. I hadn’t even changed out of the clothes I’d worn to school that day, still wearing leggings and a long shirt. I tiptoed down the stairs, turned to head to the back of the house, and slipped out without making a sound, quiet as a freaking mouse.
The pool house’s lights were off. Small solar lights around the pool, along with dim lights inside the pool, were all that lit my way as I walked toward it. My heart hammered in my chest with each step, as if reminding me that this could be a mistake. It was quite possible I wouldn’t like what I’d find in there.
That guy, Rick, had told me Gareth was a psychopath, and with all my interactions with him, I was inclined to agree. Anything a psychopath wanted to hide… well, it couldn’t be good.
Was it really art, or was it something else? Alistair was obviously the kind of guardian that would protect Gareth even if Gareth did something bad… something very, very illegal. He had the money and the means.
What if I found something bad in there? What if I didn’t like what I found? I’d left my phone in my room stupidly, so it wasn’t like I could call for help. And, even if I did, who would I call? Nine-one-one? Gareth would probably just explain to them I was a hysterical girl who couldn’t be believed.
Shit. I should go get my phone, so I could take pictures as evidence, if I had to…
Oh, listen to me, acting like I was going to find a body in there or something. Come on. Someone could be a psychopath; it didn’t automatically mean they were murderers. I’d seen too many Netflix docs lately.
I reached the pool house door, and I stared hard at the handle to it, wondering if it was locked. I wouldn’t put it past Gareth to lock it just to keep me out. Lockpicking wasn’t something I’d ever done before, but there had to be tutorials on YouTube or something. I could find out how to get in, if I had to.
First thing was first. Let’s try that handle.
My heart was in my throat when my hand curled around the handle, and I thought bleakly,Here goes nothing, as I tried it.
The handle turned easily, telling me it wasn’t locked. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding until right then as I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Closing the door behind me, I reached around the walls for a light switch.
The windows on the pool house always had the curtains drawn, so you couldn’t see inside. It also stopped any outside light from creeping in. The place was way too dark; it made me feel like I was trapped in some horror movie.
It shouldn’t bother me, the dark, nor the possibility that I’d find something I didn’t like here. I’d always been a little different, but I’d tried so hard to channel what made me different into my art. It kept me out of trouble.
Until now. Until now, when I willingly went in search of trouble where Gareth was concerned. You’d think I’d be more cautious, that I would want to ignore Gareth and whatever the hell he had going on in here, just do my time in this house until I could leave and never look back—but what was the fun in that?
