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I’m unsurprised to find it fully stocked with ingredients to make a whole host of meals.
I pull the creamer from the door before focusing on the freezer.
“Bingo,” I sing when a packet of partly baked pain au chocolat catches my eye.
It might be long past breakfast now but who gives a crap. Time stopped meaning anything to me the second I was dragged into this house.
Scanning the kitchen again, I find a top-of-the-range air fryer sitting on the counter. Reid might not be into novelty mugs, but it seems the Devil of Harrow Creek didn’t escape the air fryer epidemic of twenty-twenty.
Laughing to myself at how even the biggest of gangsters can be peer pressured by the right product, I pull one of the fryer drawers open and drop four pastries inside.
Greedy of me? Hell, yeah.
Do I care? Fuck, no.
I set the timer and reach for my coffee.
With a new sense of freedom—no matter how false—I cup the warmth in my palms and walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that I remember looking out before eating that fateful curry.
The sky is clear and the sun is shining bright. The need to feel that warmth on my skin is all-consuming and before I know what I’m doing, I have my fingers wrapped around the handle and I’m attempting to pull it open.
I shouldn’t be disappointed, I was expecting it but still, my shoulders drop and a frustrated puff of air rushes past my lips.
I wouldn’t even run…
Everything I want and need is in this house. I might have longer-term plans to run as far away from this place and the men who reside under this roof, but it won’t be without the man currently locked in the basement.He’s saved me time and time again, there isn’t a chance that I won’t do the same for him.
I remain in the same place, looking out over the town that has ruined so many promising lives over the years as I sip my coffee.
Each mouthful tastes like heaven, and the fact I’m able to drink it without having eyes on me or being forced to remember I only have it because they’ve allowed it makes it taste better than any other I’ve had here.
My stomach growls again right on cue and I rush over to the air fryer as it signals my pastries are done.
Sucking in a deep breath of buttery, sweet goodness as I pull the tray open, I quickly transfer them to a boring black plate and take them over to the huge, swivel chair that allows me to continue staring out at freedom.
“Oh my God.” I moan the second I take my first bite.
Thank God I’m alone because the speed in which I devour every single one of them is nothing short of embarrassing. And the second I’m done, I force the chair around to gaze at the kitchen again, trying to remember what else I saw in the fridge that I could inhale.
Trying not to be a total pig, I talk myself down from eating my body weight in food. I haven’t been locked up for days. I’ve no reason to believe that I won’t have this opportunity again. I don’t need to act like a crazy woman.
Instead, I abandon my plate and mug next to the sink. I don’t bother washing it up because I suspect the mess will piss Reid off when he returns, and making his eye twitch in annoyance is totally worth it. After that I set about exploring my surroundings.
With my eyes locked on the wall of the hallway, looking for the elusive hidden door, I make my way to the next room.
If only I could remember more about the night I was brought up here. If I weren’t so distracted by JD then I might be able to pinpoint exactly where the fucking door is.
“Oh wow,” I gasp, stepping into what must be Reid’s office.
It’s… well… exactly as I would have predicted.
It’s just like him. Every single thing in this room is bigger than life. Scary, overpowering. Intimidating.
From his colossal black desk to the ridiculous wing-backed chair that sits behind it and the floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with row after row of books.
Stepping up to the seemingly endless shelves, I reach out, tracing the spines with my fingertips.
Shakespeare. Dickens. Austen. Hardy. Brontë.
