Page 39 of The Labyrinth

I flipped through the pages willing it not to be true. But there it was on every page.

Tennyson brought me to the library today. I think he knew how happy it would make me.

Tennyson made me dinner tonight. I would’ve starved without him.

Tennyson…

Tennyson…

Tennyson…

I wasn’t unique. I wasn’t special. All I was was a fool. Ten had been using me from the start, and I had been stupid enough to go along with it. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped at it angrily. Ten was a weakness. I thought he made me stronger, but all he did was put holes in my hard-constructed defenses.

I wanted to chuck the diary across the room and scream at the top of my lungs. But all that would do would be to draw more attention toward me. They’d find me, and kill me. I skimmed the rest of the pages, not wanting to read the rest and hear about how Ten fell in love with her, and all that jazz. I wanted to know the end. I wanted to know how and when Iris ended, and I began.

There were a lot of blank pages at the back of the journal, but the last written page began with a sentence that cracked my heart even wider.

Tennyson says we will run away tonight.

The book dropped from my hand, and a quiet sob escaped from my throat. I didn’t want to cry over Ten. He didn’t deserve it, really. But I couldn’t contain my emotions. They spilled over the top, encompassing me whole. I wanted to be special. More than that, I wanted to be special tohim. I wanted there to be something different about me, something that made him not want to let go, to keep me locked up inside my room. Because I wasspecial. Not because I was just another game to him, another slave he could lock away and play with like a cat toyed with a mouse. I was real, and Iris was real, and I didn’t want to think about what happened to her because whatever happened to her was likely to be my end as well…which brought on another round of silent tears.

I needed to leave. I knew that now. I just wasn’t sure how.

It would take planning, and a bit of luck.

I was so busy crying and plotting I didn’t hear Ten walk in the room. I didn’t notice him until he stood in front of me, crouching, tucking a massive finger under my chin and pulling my face up to look at him. “What’s all this about?”

I narrowed my eyes, angry even through my tears. “How could you?” I demanded. “Is this all a fucking game to you? Is that all I am? A fuckinggame?” I pulled my hand back, ready to slap him clear across his face.

He snatched my wrist before I could. “Rissa. What the fuck is going on?”

Ten looked truly confused, and if I hadn’t just read the words I had, I would’ve believed him. Now, I just knew what a good liar he was. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid,” I spat out. “I know. I know I’m not the first. I’m not special. I know abouther.” I pointed to the book on the floor as if it were a poisonous snake, filled with venom and ready to strike.

He followed my gaze to the floor, releasing me to pick up the small diary. He began flipping through the pages. I watched his expression carefully, curling into myself to stay as far away from him as possible. I didn’t want him to touch me. If he touched me, I would cave, and it would be over. His touch was addictive, and I needed to remain strong until I found out the truth. If I wasn’t so desperate to catch him in a lie, I wouldn’t look at him either.

His expression dropped to one of shock before he recovered quickly, turning to something I could’ve sworn was sadness, before shifting to anger. Was he angry I had found him out? Discovered the truth he was trying to keep from me? Good. I hoped he was just as angry as I was. “Deliciae…Rissa…I…”

“If you’re going to feed me another bullshit lie, save it. I don’t want to hear anymore falsehoods. I want the truth, dammit.”

Ten’s eyes flashed down at me, still angry. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“Yes!” I scrambled to my knees on the chair, so we could nearly see eye to eye. “Why would you make me feel like I was special? Why would you pretend I was different, if I was just another girl to add to your list of…of…slaves?”

“Rissa,” Ten hissed. “The truth isn’t always the pretty thing you want to believe it is. Sometimes it’s ugly and bruised, and better kept hidden.”

“Fuck, Ten!” I cried. “I thought I meant something to you!”

His eyes flashed again, rippling with sincerity. “Youdomean something to me!”

I shook my head, pointing to the damning book in his hand. “Not like that. Not likeher. She got to go places. Out in public. You weren’t ashamed of her like you are of me. She had chores, jobs. She cleaned. She was a member of this household. What am I? A pretty object to display on your mantle?” My voice broke, emotions strained. “Did you love her?”

Jealous. I was jealous over a girl I was certain was dead. The room was crackling, the air between us charged and alive.

“Yes!” he roared. “I did love her!”

I fell back onto my heels, shocked with the weight of his admission. He loved her. He didn’t love me. The words hadn’t been spoken, but they were there, stretched taut between us. Ten leaned over me, crowding my space with his bulk and his dominance, controlling the conversation.

“You loved her,” I repeated dumbly. What did I care really? At the end of the day, Ten was a monster who had kidnapped me. Maybe it was better to know my place now.

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