Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
"Stay with me, Scarletta. We're almost there."
The staging pavilion appears through the trees, and there's screaming. More screaming. People in white running, crying, and bodies—
More bodies.
Two staff members on the ground near the entrance, blood pooling beneath them, and the unmasked man's arms tighten around me as he steps over them.
"Fucking hell," he breathes. "Geoffrey! For fuck's sake… status report!"
Someone answers. I don't hear what they say. The world has gone cottony and distant, like I'm watching everything through a screen, like this is footage I'm reviewing rather than something happening to my actual body.
He carries me past the chaos, through a door and into a room. An office. He sets me down on a couch that's too soft, too comfortable, and then he's pressing a glass of water into my hands.
"Drink."
I drink. The water tastes like nothing.
"You're in shock. That's normal. You're safe now."
Safe.
The word doesn't mean anything anymore.
He's pressing something against my hip—gauze, maybe, or a towel—and the sting of it makes me gasp, which is the first sound I've made since the maze.
"Superficial," he says. "Won't even need stitches."
His hands are still bloody. He's leaving red smears on my skin, on the white gauze, on everything he touches.
"Eat something." He pushes a bowl of fruit toward me. Strawberries. Grapes. Normal things that belong to a normal world that doesn't exist anymore.
I stare at them.
"Scarletta. I need you to eat. Your blood sugar—"
I put a grape in my mouth. Chew. Swallow. The motions are mechanical, disconnected from anything like hunger or taste.
He pulls me against his chest, and I should recoil, should fight, should run, but instead I just—
Drift.
His heartbeat is steady. Calm.
Like he didn't just torture a man to death.
Like his hands aren't still tacky with blood. Like everything is fine.
Maybe everything is fine.
Maybe this is what fine looks like now.
"I have to go manage this." His voice is soft against my hair. "There are protocols to follow. I'll be back as soon as I can."
He eases me down onto the couch, tucks a blanket around me like I'm something precious, something breakable.
"Stay here. Don't open the door for anyone except me."
The lock clicks behind him.
I stare at the ceiling and see nothing but dead bodies and floating heads…
Arms.
Arms around me and I'm screaming before I'm awake, thrashing against something solid and warm that won't let go.
"Hey. Hey. It's me. You're safe."
His voice. The unmasked man's voice.
I blink and the office swims into focus. The couch. The blanket tangled around my legs. The bowl of fruit untouched on the table.
When did I fall asleep?
"Everything's okay." He's lifting me, cradling me against his chest like I weigh nothing. "Everything's fine. I'm going to give you a bath."
Fine.
Fine.
The word bounces around my skull like a marble in a tin can, keeping perfect, metronomic rhythm with the constant, pulsing thump that now fills every available crevice of my brain. Pushing out everything else, leaving behind just that single syllable on endless repeat.
Fine fine fine fine fine.
We're moving. Hallway. Doors. His footsteps steady on tile, then wood, then tile again. He's talking, his voice a low murmur against the top of my head.
"—my private quarters. No one comes in here without permission. You're safe. I've got you."
Safe.
The bamboo walls rise around us.
No.
No.
That's not right. These are concrete walls. White. Clean. But I see the bamboo anyway, see the maze twisting ahead of me, hear Helix's voice in my earbuds telling me to run, little slut, run.
"Scarletta?"
The blonde attendant's head in the mud. Eyes open. Mouth slack.
That wasn't in the story. Lyra never found bodies. The monsters in my story didn't—
"You're dissociating. That's normal. Stay with me."
Steam. Warm air on my face. The sound of water running.
I blink and we're in a bathroom. Massive. Marble. A tub the size of a small pool filling with water that smells like lavender.
The bathing pavilion. The stirrups. The blond attendants hands between my—
No. Different room. Different water.
"I'm going to set you down now."
My feet touch cold tile. My knees buckle immediately and he catches me, holds me upright.
"Easy. I've got you."
Helix caught Lyra in the third corridor. Pinned her against the wall. His claws—
The stranger's claws cutting my hip. Real blood. My blood.
That wasn't supposed to happen. In my story, the monsters only made her feel good—
Good, Scarletta? They raped her.
But… she wanted it!
She wanted it?
Even my damaged mind hears myself. Understands what I'm saying. Comprehends just how fucking wrong this is.
"Scarletta. Look at me."
I look.
His face. Handsome. Concerned.
He came while he was killing him.
"You're safe," he says again.
I don't know what that word means anymore.
I don't know what any of this means anymore. I'm not safe. I thought I was. I walked that plank. But I saw the net. I jumped off the platform and did the zip line. But I was wearing the harness.