Page 13 of Royal Havoc

Once I’ve finished getting ready and adjusted the thermostat, my heavy feet shuffle towards the kitchen in desperate search of caffeine. It’s the little things we take for granted that sneak up on us when our routines are messed with.

“Fuck,” I sigh loudly, leaning on the counter, face cradled in my hands.

Raising my head, running both hands through my hair, tired eyes gazing out the window overlooking the main house.

“Suck it up, bitch. Get in, take the coffee, and run. You don’t have to speak to anyone,” I whisper quietly, giving myself a pep talk for a mission I never imagined to be taking.

Last night sleep evaded me, turning my exhaustion into a hindrance along with my tossing and turning, which is why I’m crankier than usual this morning. I’ll be honest, I’m not a mornings-are-fun type of girl. Especially after coming to the conclusion that I havenothingin this cottage.

The frosty air clings to me as I stroll up the path to the main house. Tiny clouds appear as air leaves me, floating past my face. My spine stiffens, causing me to stumble. A sensation constricts my chest, faltering my breaths. My eyes survey the gloomily lit grounds, searching for whatever has shifted the atmosphere around me. But as usual, there’s nothing there.

I rush up the few steps, relieved to find the door unlocked, and hold my breath as I slip into the entrance. The heat starts to defrost me instantly while I listen for anything disrupting the silence. Quietly tip-toeing down the hall to the kitchen, prepared to pull out some serious hide-and-seek moves if I have to.

My hand flies to cover my mouth, gasping, “Who are you?” I question breathlessly, not expecting to find a woman standing at the sink.

She turns on the water to wash a teacup, not bothering to turn around. “Lisa,” she answers shortly.

I stand, eye-balling her head to toe. I’ve not seen her face, but I’m guessing she’s on the younger side. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. She’s a natural redhead with a decent build.

Shit, what am I thinking? I’m as average as they come and, thankfully, blessed with some decent curves.

My eyes leave her, scanning the room. “Where’s the coffee?” I blurt, unable to hide the desperation clinging to my words.

Placing the teacup in the cabinet. “Hendrix drinks tea,” she answers smugly.

Rolling my eyes hard enough for them to sting. “Of course he does,” I mock, charging to the fridge, hoping to find a bottle of water.

She turns around, watching me with squinty eyes. “Any food allergies?” she asks, sneering at me in disgust.

Like I’d tell her, she’d probably try to kill me.

Snatching a water, slamming the door hard enough things rattle inside. “Nope. Only to bitches and assholes,” I answer, biting my lip to hold in the giggles from her shocked face. “Tootles,” I snicker, wiggling my fingers and spinning on my heel.

I hear her following me close enough I can almost feel her breathing.

Has she heard of personal space?

What the hell am I driving into?

The narrow road is hidden, surrounded by a patch of woods, twisting and turning up a random hill on the outskirts of town. The whole thing hasWrong Turnvibes screaming at me to turn the hell around while I still can.

“For shit’s sake,” I sigh, filling the silent cab of the Jeep, staring at the huge wooden gate blocking the janky road.

I cautiously pull up to the white speaker box, wondering what will happen when I press the red button.

“Name?” a deep voice asks, startling the shit out of me before I’ve even had time to move my hand.

“Onyx Sterling,” I answer hesitantly.

“I’ve sent your code,” the voice in the box informs me at the same time I hear my phone vibrate.

How the hell did they get my number?

My fingers shake as I enter the code before I’m forced to sit impatiently waiting for the gate to slide open. At least they could make sure their weird obstacles move at a proper speed.

Who thought it was smart to lock a bunch of kids into a secluded space?

It isn’t long until the building comes into sight. Even from this distance, I can tell the brick-four-story-square-structure is old and aged by the climate, reminding me of an abandoned place you’d find in the sketchier parts of a city.

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