Bloom: A Dark Romance (The Order, 1) Page 24
Then, together, we could come up with new plans; my new allies that I hadn’t met yet—we could figure out a way to take it all down and make every Member pay for what they’d done to us.
Except Elliot, a small voice said from the depths of my mind.
True, he’d never forced himself on me and only followed protocol—what he had been taught to do—but he was still a cog in the dirty machine. Did he deserve the same fate, whatever we eventually determined it would be, that men like Jäger did?
More information. I would see what I could dig up on him once I was free before I condemned him. I considered it generous—a thank you for being kind to me when others wouldn’t have blinked at making me miserable. There was still a slight chance all of this was for his survival, the same way we all did things in the Order to survive. No one had ever said so, but I believed that other Members were most likely punished the same way those lower on the food chain were if they deviated from the master plan—whatever the hell that was. Despite following these rules, despite perpetuating this evil, he had been kind to me within the parameters of all the rules. The least I could do was give him a little kindness in return.
I was torn from my thoughts when his arm left me, my waist cold as he rolled over and faced the other way. This was even better than I could have hoped; not only was he still asleep, but he wasn’t facing the pool or the door.
I had never moved as silently as I did now. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins and making me tremble, I stood up and managed to get to the other side of the pool without making a sound. Heart racing, my eyes didn’t leave the mostly naked form of my Owner. Though I couldn’t see his face, the rise and fall of his chest was steady. He was in a deep sleep and I prayed he was a heavy sleeper so I had the maximum amount of time to find the items I needed, leave, and get far away.
I found his shoes and slipped them on, making sure to tie them tight so I wouldn’t trip. Even so, I would risk a twisted ankle over hypothermia. I would take his coat from by the door as well, I decided.
With one last look at my sleeping Owner, I sprinted back down the path we had come to get to this area. Completely awake, eyes wide open, I could only make out the vague shapes of the trees and plants to mark how far I’d come. I passed the fountain, the bench. Then there was the door that led to the kitchen. I could see it just ahead in the dark.
A weapon, I thought. Something light and easily concealed. I could raid the kitchen for a knife while I gathered food and water.
I was silent, as light on my feet as possible as I neared the door. It had remained cracked open from when we’d entered and I was thankful I wouldn’t have to find a way to get through it. The room beyond was still cast in darkness; no one else was awake but me.
Stepping through the doorway, I slowly, carefully closed it behind me. My heart pounded louder than ever as my eyes adjusted, searching for the chair I’d planned to jam beneath the doorknob. Not wanting to waste time by going into the dining room, dragging one of the heavy seats from there, and risk getting caught by the sound it would make, I settled on one of the stools around the island. It was just tall enough to work. Silently, I picked it up, surprised at how much lighter it was than it looked. I tiptoed back to the door, quietly positioning the stool so it would be blocked from the outside at least for a little while.
With the most immediate threat to my freedom taken care of, I set to work finding some food, water, and a weapon.
In one of the cabinets there were granola and protein bars along with some other types of packets I couldn’t decipher in the dark. I also found a cloth grocery bag, which I shoved them all into. In the fridge, I found oranges and bottles of water. I took six bottles, not wanting to weigh myself down more than that. As an afterthought, I opened the sugar canister and found sugar cubes, which I slipped into the pockets of my pants. It occurred to me that the horse would eventually need food, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I only had enough for myself; I could think about that later.
When I tried to open one of the drawers, I discovered it was locked. All the others were as well, except for one that held spoons and some other non-threatening utensils. There wasn’t a knife block or any other container on the counter that would hold knives, so they must have been locked away in one of the drawers.
Deciding I didn’t want to waste the time trying to break into and go through each one, I slung the bag over my shoulder and moved on to the next thing I needed: cash.
He had to have some form of money somewhere. Cards would do in a pinch, but I’d be unable to use them for anywhere to stay—they’d make me too traceable.
Traceable.
I had considered foregoing the weapon altogether, but then I remembered my tracking device. As soon as I was far enough from the house to stop for a little bit, I would have to remove the thing. I would need something sharp to do that.
Money first, I decided. But where would it be? Unconsciously, my hands searched my pockets. Beneath the sugar cubes, I found the key he’d shown me earlier. In my rush, I’d completely forgotten it was there. If a room was important enough to keep locked—especially when it seemed no other doors except ones that led outside were—there had to be something important within. Something like money or even weapons.
Without hesitation, I sprinted down the hall in the direction of the stained glass window door I had just seen hours earlier. My hands shook as I slid the key into the lock, but it clicked quietly. It worked. The door opened with a soft creak that made me jump and I only opened it enough to slip through, closing it behind me in case someone happened to walk by.
There wasn’t any light except what little glow the moon gave off outside. However, I could still see the beauty of the room.
The space was round, two stories tall, every inch covered in shelves of books aside from a few paintings and windows—all stained glass with depictions of flowers. It was so vast that I found myself catching my breath, in awe of how he had kept such a place hidden for so long. In the middle of the room was a large oak desk, armchairs in front of it and an office chair behind it. There was a comfy looking couch in front of one of the shelves, and I thought fleetingly that if I’d come upon this place under different circumstances, I would want to spend time here.
But these were my circumstances, and I had no time to daydream. I had items to gather, plans to put into action. Shaking myself from my stupor, I made my way across the room to the desk and tried the top middle drawer, surprised when it opened with no resistance.
The drawer itself was as organized as I would have expected; pens and pencils in neat little boxes, paperclips contained in a plastic holder. There were manila envelopes stacked in the left drawer, which also opened without incident. I pulled them out and tossed them on top of the desk, hardly aware that they’d spilled open and papers had fluttered out across its polished surface. I was in a rush; I didn’t care about making a mess or cleaning it up. By the time anyone discovered anything was out of place, I’d be a memory.
The right drawer was locked, but I found a letter opener in the first one and used it to coax it open. In the bottom, I found his laptop, underneath which were important documents like licenses and his passport. Finally, underneath it all, I found what I was looking for: a black leather billfold. Inside, there were four plastic cards of various colors and when I flipped it open, there were bills ranging from large to small. It would be enough to get transportation, somewhere warm to sleep, and extra food for a little while. Hopefully I’d find a Safehouse before it was depleted.
A sudden sound startled me as I deposited the billfold into my canvas bag. It was far enough away that it wasn’t an immediate threat, but it was close enough to get me moving again, to make me believe he had woken up, tried the door, and found it locked.
It had been my goal to also find the key to the barn, but I could pick it with the letter opener. I threw that into my bag as well. If all else failed, I’d forgo the horse and travel on foot. It would be slo
wer and more difficult, but not impossible.
I didn’t bother shutting any of the drawers as I secured the shopping bag over my shoulder. I almost rushed right past the papers scattered across the desk, and I would have if it wasn’t for my own face staring back at me.
Shoving the other documents aside, I picked up the sheet of paper with my photograph and skimmed the words there. I was astonished to find it in English, my Compound number and status right before my name in bold type.
“Certificate of sale” was written next, and the date Master Lyon had purchased me underneath. Then my eyes caught something else.
“Transfer of sale pending upon Sir Eckart Jäger of House Wolf’s request.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d said it out loud. I wanted to crumple up this piece of paper and throw it away as I fled Lyon Estate, but right underneath this, I saw more. I couldn’t tear myself away.
“Sir Eliot Lyon of House Chimera hereby relinquishes his rights on the agreed upon date, contingent on the delivery of girl number 257 of Compound B31 as intact, pure, and trained. At which time, sir Eckart Jäger of House Wolf will relinquish his rights of lady Odette Lyon of House Chimera into the hands of sir Elliot Lyon of House Chimera.”
Then there were two signatures. The closer I looked, I realized this had been printed off a computer or photocopied. That meant others had this information, and I could guess at least who one of them were.
That fucking bastard.
Not only had he bought me, which was wrong and illegal in the Mainworld, but he planned to trade me to someone else—and a blacklisted owner at that—which was wrong and illegal in ours. Intact, pure, and trained. This was why he’d been kind and patient. This was why he hadn’t tried to force himself on me. Not because of the goodness of his heart, but because I was promised to another. To that goddamned animal I had left behind.
Another bang, louder this time but still far off, resounded through the empty halls. I could think about this later, when this asshole was gone and his plans had collapsed.
I raced out of the study and towards the back door, shoving my arms through the coat he’d left on the hook. I wasn’t surprised to find the exit locked, but I could pick it no problem. If I could get my hands to still long enough. I refused to look at the greenhouse door, the stool still firmly in place. Any moment there would be another sound from within, and I’d prefer it if I wasn’t here when that happened. Fortunately, I’d stolen some paperclips from the study as well, and now I stuck one end of the unfolded metal into the lock while using the letter opener to trip the mechanism.
“Fawn.” His voice was muffled, stifled by the door. It was uncharacteristically calm given the situation. Not what I expected. The lock clicked open, but I couldn’t move, eyes glued to the wood of the door he was behind as I prayed the stool would stay where it was.
“I know you’re there, Fawn,” he said, so sure that I would listen.
Anger boiled within me, pumping along with the adrenaline and my frantic pulse. I heard him sigh when I didn’t respond, and I could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you let me out now,” he said, on the edge of control, “I will forget this happened.”
I snorted. He couldn’t believe I was that stupid.
“What are you going to do, Fawn?” he asked. “You’d get lost and if the cold doesn’t get you, the wolves will. You’ll be feeding yourself directly to them.”
“You’d know a thing or two about feeding me to wolves,” I snapped, unaware it had left my mouth until it was too late.
There was a pause, then, “You’ve been in my desk.”
I didn’t respond, concentrating more on getting my feet to move.
“Fawn,” he nearly whispered, and his defeated tone made me even angrier.
“Shut up!” I hadn’t yelled, but I wanted to. “You don’t get to call me that anymore,” I said. “You don’t get to call me anything.”
There was silence for a long time before he spoke again. “You won’t get far.”
I didn’t know if it was a threat or something he saw as a fact. Either way, I’d already come this far. I was going to go as far as I could even if it meant getting caught or eaten. I wouldn’t turn back now.
So without another word, I turned the doorknob and slipped into the cold like a secret slipping out of a mouth.
SIXTEEN
The sun was just beginning to rise when I stopped to take a breather and a drink of water. As predicted, picking the lock to the stable had been easy. Not as easy as the one on his desk, but simple enough. With the amount of rage flowing through me, I wouldn’t have doubted my ability to break it from its hinges with my bare hands. Intact, pure, and trained. Relinquishes his rights. Imposter. Villain. Traitor.
Traitor?
That word stunned me and it had stuck in my mind, wrapping around it to the point of suffocation all throughout figuring out how to saddle Onyx, climb on top, and not break my neck as I rode the animal.
This was almost as simple as the locks, once I got the hang of it. I had to hold onto his mane since I couldn’t figure out how the bridle went on, but the horse didn’t seem to mind. It was patient as I kicked one side and then the other, finding which movements made him go which way. Soon, I had a rough grasp as to how to ride the horse and we were galloping deep into the forest. It crossed my mind that I should have been terrified, controlling such a large thing that could easily throw me off, trample me, and crush every bone in my body, but I was more afraid of going back to Lyon Estate. If I went back there, he would take me to Wolf Manor, and that was worse than any other fate that could befall me.
Wind whipped my face as I pushed the horse on, nothing but dirt, trees, and branches in our path. I had no set direction other than straight. The woods had to end sometime.
But a few hours in—at least it felt that way—the horse began to tire and slow down, less willing to listen to my commands despite how many cubes of sugar I offered. When I spotted a small stream in the lightening glow of the sky, I directed Onyx towards it so we could both take a break.
This was the first full, deep breath I’d taken since this entire thing had begun.
No sooner than I gulped down half a bottle of my water, that word was back, echoing in my head like a stone down a well.
Traitor.
But was he really?
What had he betrayed exactly? He’d never made me any promises; he’d never said I was safe. In all scenarios, he was my Owner—someone who had paid for me. I was property, no more important than any of the other toys in a little boy’s collection. I was expendable. I was replaceable. I shouldn’t be so angry. There was no reason to be upset. I shouldn’t have felt hurt by his actions.
Hurt.
That’s what I really was, but why? Why did my chest hurt when I thought of him planning this entire time to not only trade me back to the owner I’d already escaped, but in exchange for some other girl? Her name also resounded in my mind. Odette Lyon. Odette Lyon. Odette Lyon.
The same last name. A sister? A wife?
Bile rose in my stomach and I fought to push it back, unwilling to lose the water I’d drunk. I imagined she was beautiful, pristine skin and silky hair. She probably smelled like flowers.
Why did that bother me—her being better than me? That he wanted her over me?
Why did it matter? Why did tears sting my eyes when I thought of him throwing me away, a damaged, scarred, difficult girl, for someone more suitable? Prettier. Shiner. New.
“Fuck him,” I whispered, wiping away the few tears that had managed to slip free. “Fuck them all.”
The horse, whether he’d heard me or simply had his fill from the stream, lifted its head and straightened the rest of its body. His ears twitched and he snorted, taking a step to adjust himself. I smoothed the velvety hair on his neck, almost sorry to have brought him into all of this. With any luck, I could take Onyx as far as I could and then find someone who could take care of him. I wouldn’t be just l
ike them, ditching their property when they no longer had a use for it. I was better. I knew what it was like to be dispensable and I wasn’t about to spread that feeling to another living being if I could help it.
I screwed the cap back onto my water bottle and stuck it into my bag. Five and a half bottles left. I had no idea how long I’d have to make them last and I scolded myself for gulping down so much already. However, I had been upset and dehydrated from a night of drinking and having to plan so quickly. I was allowed this one small comfort. I wasn’t likely to get another anytime soon.
It took a few tries to get the horse moving again, but soon we were back on the path I’d carved out in my mind.
It was so silent here. No sound at all except for my breathing—which had since calmed and slowed—and the hooves of the beast beneath me as we trotted through the trees at a considerably slower pace. We were far enough into the forest that I hadn’t seen the estate or stable for a long time. I’d gotten my head to stop spinning and my hands to stop shaking. I didn’t want to exhaust either of us, so this pace was better to ensure we conserved energy.
But the silence allowed my mind to wander to places I didn’t want to go. I wondered what Master Lyon was doing right now. Was he still in the greenhouse? A look at the bright horizon told me that it was becoming more and more unlikely. Mr. B would soon—if he hadn’t already—find the stool under the doorknob and let him out. And then what would they do? Calling other Members to help search for a missing girl was simply out of the question. It would diminish his social standing within the Order and was more of an embarrassment than any of the Owners would willingly submit themselves to. Pride was the most important thing these men and women had. It was more valued than status, wealth, or power. It was why, once I’d gotten away and when I was eventually discovered, Master Jäger was blacklisted and never allowed to again purchase another girl. He was already low on the food chain reputation-wise. He didn’t just treat girls like dogs, but anyone else he could. Other Owners, though they had to respect him and pretend he was more than the animal he was in public and business , didn’t see his wealth and power as more than building blocks for his empire he could use to surpass other Vultures like him.