Stealing Cinderella(72)
The only experience I have rowing a boat was with my father when I was a child, but I get the hang of it quickly. Two sore arms and one hour later, I reach the other side. There’s a boat landing I use to depart, and from there, it’s a five-minute walk to the bus station. Every second that passes makes me more anxious Thorsen will discover I’m gone. Will Lisbet alert him when I don’t come back from outside? Will she even notice?
After the incident, his security has been busy installing cameras around the interior of the estate. But I don’t know how often he checks them or how much of a head start I’ll have. All I can do is focus on one breath to the next as I follow the route I carefully mapped out over the past few days. Thirty minutes and two bus changes later, I’m at the ferry terminal, purchasing my ticket. But it isn’t until I’m out on the open sea when I can finally breathe again.
The journey back to London is uneventful, but long, taking nearly two days by ferry and train. By the time I finally step foot back onto the familiar streets of Cranbrook, it feels like everything has changed. But I think it’s just me.
I don’t really have a plan after this, but I know what I want to do. After I get off the train, I walk to Olivia’s. She isn’t home when I arrive, and Alfred must be in the house, so I visit with the horses and then find a comfortable spot to rest in the barn until she comes back.
I want to call Charlotte, but I had to leave my phone behind. Thorsen could track it or use it as a way to contact me, and I’m just not strong enough for that yet.
Lying back in the hay, I stare up at the weathered wood roof and consider what my life will be like now. I already know I can’t go back to Narcissa’s. That isn’t even a question. Too much has changed, and I’m a different person now. When I close my eyes and try to dream of the future, it feels empty and hollow, but I manage to find some peace, at least long enough to slip off to sleep.
Something tickles my foot, and my eyes fly open. A pungent odor lingers in the air around me, and when I look down, my shirt is soaked through. I thought I forgot where I was, but I didn’t. I’m still here, in Olivia’s barn, but it isn’t Olivia standing over me.
“Lavinia.” I curse her name as I force myself upright, meeting her gaze. “What the hell are you doing?”
My eyes flick over the scattered contents of my bag on the ground, and it’s obvious she’s been rifling through my things. How long has she been there? How long was I completely vulnerable to her before I even realized there was a predator right in front of me? By now, I know her well enough to understand she came here for a reason. The haunting question is why.
“You healed up nicely.” She smirks. “But I suppose that scar on your face has been a lovely reminder of me.”
“Why are you here?” I stumble to my feet as adrenaline floods my veins.
“Do you think I didn’t know you would come back here?” She rolls her eyes. “This pathetic little farm is all you have. I thought it would be fitting for you to watch it go up in flames.”
Her eyes dart to the white bottle lying on the ground, and it takes me a second to understand that it’s lighter fluid.
“You’re fucking psychotic!” I stare past her, trying to figure out my options as my pulse begins to race. But the only way out is to go through her. She’s got me trapped, and judging by the smell around me, this whole barn will go up in seconds if she ignites it.
“What else could you possibly want from me?” I ask. “I left Thorsen alone. You got what you wanted.”
“What I want is to watch you die,” she hisses. “You ruined everything, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
My eyes bounce around the barn in search of a weapon. Something I can knock her out with. But there’s nothing remotely close to me. It feels like another hopeless situation until it doesn’t. Until I realize that I am so done with Lavinia terrorizing me. A decade’s worth of repressed hostility boils to the surface, settling into my curled fists. Only one of us is getting out of here alive today, and this time, it’s going to be me.
“I’ll give you a choice.” Lavinia pulls a lighter from her pocket and slowly drags her nail over the ridges of the ignition switch. She wants to draw out her torture and make me squirm. But I’m not the same helpless girl who was strapped to the bed in Norway.
“If you do that, you’ll never get out of here alive,” I promise her. “I’ll make sure of it, even if it’s the last thing I do.”
Her head falls back in laughter, and she breaks into a fit of hysterics over the idea that I could ever fight back. For as long as I’ve known her, I’ve let her have the upper hand. I’ve tortured myself over my father’s death, and I fought in vain to prove myself worthy of their love. But there is no love left in my heart for any of them, and Lavinia has pushed me for the last time.
Using the moment of her distraction, I launch myself at her and tackle her to the ground. Her head bounces off the earth with a sickening thud, and the impact stuns her long enough for me to pry the lighter from her fingers and toss it aside.
For a split second, I have the advantage, and I don’t waste it. I’ve never been in a fight to the death before, but that’s exactly what it feels like when I punch her in the face as brutally as I can manage. Her head whips to the side, and I draw my arm back again, landing another blow. Red blooms across her skin as blood trickles from her lip, and it feels so goddamn good. But my victory is short-lived.