Page 40 of Hide and Keep

Back out in the guesthouse, I decide to put my clothes away first thing, even before that much-needed shower, just to prove Ever wrong. I am staying and there’s nothing she can do to make me leave. Not willingly.

The first drawer I open, I drop my stack of shirts in without looking, and somehow set off a…mousetrap? Luckily, the sound has me jerking my hand back in time to keep all five fingers intact.

“What thefuck?” I pull out the trap. Who the hell sets a mousetrapina drawer? This place is spotless. There aren’t even any traps on the floor.

Ever’s words come back to me.

“You might need this tonight.”

I yank open every drawer of the dresser, only to find the same thing—a fucking mousetrap in each one just waiting to catch some unsuspecting fingers.Myunsuspecting fingers.

Ever.

Eyeing the bed, the comforter isn’t as pristine as the rest of the guesthouse. Instead of being smooth and tucked around the mattress, it’s lumpy and laid haphazard. One hard tug on it triggers an entire legion of mousetraps.

A chuckle leaves my lips. Climbing into bed wouldn’t have killed me, but it’s gonna kill Ever when she finds out she didn’t so much as get one of my fingers.

Just as I move away, my foot kicks something, setting off another one. I drop down on all fours and lift the bed skirt, only to discover a shit-ton more traps underneath.

It’s gonna be averylong three years.

Not only has the interior of Munreaux Manor been completely renovated several times since it was first built in the 1700s, but my father increased the square footage with a massive addition to the back of the house. He also added his garage to the side, turned the carriage house out back into a pool/guesthouse, and for one of my mother’s birthdays, he had the atrium built. The only thing that hasn’t changed over the centuries is the original building’s façade, which lucky for me, is where my bedroom is located, making it easy to wedge my feet between the granite blocks in my descent.

I didn’t use to sneak out. Truthfully, I never even considered it before… Before my father handed me a contract instead of a graduation present. Even then, doing this was just that—a thought. One I eventually followed through on for Hide and Keep. After that I started sneaking out more and more frequently. Now it’s almost a regular occurrence.

If I were any other nineteen-year-old, I probably wouldn’t have to resort to such measures. Most nineteen-year-olds can come and go as they please, hang out with whoever they want, do whatever they want,bewhoever they want.

While my fate has never been open-ended, it didn’t have an exact end date either. Discovering that it does set off a countdown only I can hear.

Ticktock. Ticktock.

Overwhelmingly loud, sometimes I can’t focus on anything else, can’t evenhearanything else. And it’s not just my ears. I feel it in my throat, a constant strangling sensation like a noose around my neck, tightening with each of those ticks.

How am I supposed to live like that? How is anyone?

Sometimes I just need something, anything, anyone to distract me from that choking feeling. Since those kinds of distractions aren’t allowed at Munreaux Manor, at least not for me, I have to go offsite to find them.

I’m not sloppy like Crue said. I’m thrashing. Cut off anybody’s air supply and see what they do. They’ll thrash, kick, fight, scream, anything they can to draw in air. It’s not a choice—attempting to prevent asphyxiation. Self-preservation is natural, built into every living being. If I were a man, my behavior would be applauded, promoted without hesitation. Because I’m a woman, I’m judged for it. Ridiculed. Labeled.

Slut.

Out of control.

Risky.

Tainted.

Regardless of behavior, girls everywhere are constantly repressed. If I’m already getting screwed, I might as well indulge in the little bit of pleasure I can find while I can, where I can.

On the ground, I’m just coming out from behind a dogwood bush, rubbing at that invisible rope, when headlights flash on,blinding me. Automatically, I book it toward the maze straight ahead. What the hell is this? No one’s ever out here at this time. Edwin’s interest is limited to what happens inside the manor. As for my father, sleep’s way too important for him to miss a wink over something as trivial as me.

This has to be another “bodyguard.”

How my father managed to replace Crue so quickly, I don’t know.

Hopefully, this one’s in worse shape than the last one. One thing’s for sure, he won’t be sexier. It’s impossible for anyone to be. Crue is—

“Ever, stop!” he shouts somewhere behind me.

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