had finished for the day, but I never took chances.
That’s how I stayed alive.
Everything looked quiet below as the last dregs of sunlight faded across the hundreds of plants and trees below. Blake was very proud of his garden, including a maze with seven-foot hedges—because that wasn’t stupidly extra.
His most prized plants, though, were the exotic rosebushes that lined the perimeter—roses with a dual purpose, being both beautiful and deadly for anyone—aka me—trying to sneak in or out of the estate. I was smarter than Blake, though, and I didn’t even try to fight the roses. Nope. I worked with them.
After waiting the required ten minutes for observation, I decided it was safe enough to climb out. My bedroom door was locked, no one, aside from Mary, was allowed to check on me, and I’d already told her I was just going to try to get some sleep and would see her at breakfast.
Everything was falling into place.
Easing myself out of the window, I got both feet onto the small ledge below. The climb down was always scary and exhilarating, but I was nearly an expert at this point.
When my feet hit the ground, I dropped between some of the ivy and a huge tree with bright pink and purple flowers. I had no idea what it was called, but it smelled like sweet summer days, which would soon fade as we ventured further into the winter months.
At the moment, the temperature was cool but not cold. Soon, though, there’d be snow everywhere, not that it would matter since I was apparently locked in the house for the next six weeks.
Best make the most of tonight.
The path I took was well-worn, one I knew as well as my own room. When I reached the roses, I moved close to a particularly nasty one with thorns as long as my nails. Feeling around, I found my small green bag, which had yet to be discovered thanks to the roses and their reputation as lethal assholes.
Inside was my suit, commissioned for me by Mary—using money from small items she and I had pawned from around the house. Items Blake would never notice had gone missing. It was a full-body number, made from metal-infused mesh, designed to stop even a knife from penetrating its surface.
And funnily enough, it was a Delta technology. Fitting, considering my main use for it up to now was for me to escape to see Dylan Grant, one fifth of Delta-Huntley himself.
The suit slipped on over my clothes and backpack, then zipped up over my hair, leaving only a sliver of my eyes visible. Crouching low, I followed the path I’d made through the roses, heading toward the fence. Thorns and branches scraped across my suit, but there was no pain.
In more ways than one, I owed Mary my life and sanity, and one day I’d figure out a way to repay her.
Once I reached the fence, I found the hole I’d created last year and shimmied my way through to the other side of the estate. Out there, I hid my suit in a small hollow of a tree, straightened my clothing, and ran. It was already 6.45 P.M., and I still had to get to the bus stop. Thankfully, one would be pulling up in two minutes, but it was also all the way down the street. Running was my only option.
I was a few hundred feet away when I saw the silver bus round the corner, and I pushed myself harder, ignoring the pain rocketing down my chest and through my bruised ribs. I mean, I’d dealt with bruised ribs hundreds of times, but running with them was a whole other kettle of pain.
It soon became obvious I wasn't going to make the bus before it pulled away, but somehow the driver caught sight of me sprinting my broken guts out and waited a few more seconds. “Thank you,” I gasped, breathing heavy and ragged. “Thank you so much.”
I scanned my bus pass, one that was in Mary’s name so Blake never tried to check up on me via the pass, and dragged my sorry ass to an empty seat. Dropping my head back on the chair, I breathed slowly, trying to get my lungs under control. I used to be a great runner, and I still tried these days to sprint around the estate, but it wasn’t the same.
I was getting way out of shape being so restricted. Not that Blake cared about my health.