Page 75 of Grotesque
I turned into his body, trying to find leverage to break free. “He isn’t torturing me.”
“He’s a monster, Sorcha. I saw him.”
“He attacked you because you cornered me in a fucking bathroom. What did you think was going to happen?”
“I’m trying to save you,” he shot back. He opened his mouth and closed it, gaping like a fish. “He has you under a spell, doesn’t he? That’s what this is.”
“This isn’t beauty and the fucking beast, Quint.” How ironic that that isexactlywhat this was. The mortal woman had fallen for the grotesque beast, and an angry mob of men had shown up to do something about it. As far as fairy tales went, it was a classic.
Glass shattered from somewhere inside the house. I froze, allowing Quint to pull me farther away. Another sound of something breaking came from somewhere upstairs. They were destroying the house. They were going to destroy the house– my house!
I’d never felt rage before, but I supposed this was as good a time as any to experience it for myself. It swirled inside my belly and clawed its way around my heart, up my throat, into my face until my vision flooded red. Piercing talons sunk into the muscle within my chest, pumping my blood faster. And then everything went white hot.
The next second I was looking at Quint’s shocked face. Maybe it was something I had said in the period of disassociation, or perhaps I had hit him. In any case I took the opening of thestunned, stupid look he wore and slammed my elbow as hard as I could into his nose. His head jerked back. A half second later, blood burst from his nose in an almost comically delayed reaction.
“Fuck!” He threw his hands up to his face as I slipped out of his hold and backed away.
“I will kill you before he does if you don’t get your friends thefuckout of my house,” I snarled.
“You fucking bitch. My fucking nose!” His words came out thick and wet. Quint winced as he spit out a glob of blood. Not that it helped, the torrent kept coming.
“Corban!” I screamed. I knew Corban would kill them, but they had to have known that when they walked in.
One of the men I didn’t recognize, the blonde, appeared in the doorway, blocking it. His eyes were wide, as if the commotion outside had summoned him. He looked from me to Quint and back again. I span on my heel and ran.
After a garbled shout from Quint, the man followed. His heavy steps pounded on the front porch, keeping pace with mine as I cornered the house, heading for the garden. It was a gamble, but if I could lose him in the hedges, I’d be able to double back through the kitchen doors.
What had Corban said in the kitchen that day? That the garden answered only to him?
Let’s hope it knew whose side I was on.
I was no athlete, but a burst of adrenaline sang through my blood when I heard his steps leave the hardwood of the porch as the man chased me onto the lawn. No, that was two people chasing me. Quint was right behind him. I didn’t look to confirm, I just pushed harder.
I’d traced the patterns of the hedges from the parlor balcony plenty of times, but I hadn’t actually fully explored the garden on foot, and as I broke through the entrance archway, under itsfragrant wisteria, I tried not to let the sudden rush of dread slow me down. Pausing for only a heartbeat to get my bearings, I took off in the direction I instinctively knew would lead me to the archway closest to the kitchen.
“Sorcha!” Quint panted– spat. I could feel his anger, his humiliation, burning the back of my neck as they both chased me. Fuck he was fast, he’d overtaken the other guy and was right on my heels. Every time I turned a corner – I didn’t remember the garden being so large when I’d looked down on it from the balcony – I thought I'd lose him, only to feel him closer than ever, and gaining.
The deadly flowers Corban had replaced Quint’s bouquet with flashed past, blurring together as I sprinted on. Somewhere behind me and to my left, on the other side of the hedge, I heard a muffled sound and then a loud thump. Like someone had tripped and fallen.
The garden seemed to be urging me onward, an invisible thread connecting me to my goal despite the impossible turns I had made, the impossible distance I had covered. There was nothing natural about this silent, rustling space, but I was hoping I could use that to my advantage.
I made another right and there – the archway – a mirror to the one I’d entered from, rose in front of me. A burning stitch clawed up my side as I tried to force myself to find another gear. I was almost there. It was so close.
But Quint was still right behind me. And he was reaching for me.
Something snagged my ankle and I stumbled, my legs buckling a little as I almost wiped out.
Quint’s momentum sent him sailing over the top of me, straight into the hedge. “Sorcha!” he shouted, trying to untangle himself from the weed-like fronds. “I’m trying tohelpyou. What the fuck are you doing? Stop running away from me!”
A second stitch crawled up my other side. I couldn’t fucking breathe but neither could I stop. I glanced back, just in time to see a gnarled root slipping back into the earth at the base of the hedge to my left. Had a fuckinghedgejust helped me evade Quint?
I supposed it wouldn’t even be close the most insane thing to have happened to me at Glamis Manor.
Issuing a silent thanks to the garden I was back on my feet and running again before Quint could right himself, crossing the lawn that separated the house from the looming hedges and the secrets they clearly held.
My legs burned as I took the back steps two at a time and wrenched the French doors open, before whirling to slam and lock them behind me. Without waiting to see where Quint had gotten to, I blew through the dining area, into the living room, where I slid to an abrupt halt. The guy with the bat was mid-swing, and as he looked up, it slammed into the TV. On the screen, a man was laying on a pile of glass, choking on his own blood. Some horror rerun I had left on after breakfast.
Ironic.
