Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(5)

Yeah, I’d lied to Catherine earlier. I knew my friend wasn’t completely innocent, but from our neighborhood, very few were. I didn’t care. Loyalty meant a lot to me, and I would have Dante’s back for the rest of my life.

My room held no interest to me. Despite the fact it was huge, more like a mini-suite than a bedroom, I mostly hated everything about it. The bed was white, the walls were white, the rug was black, and there was a fireplace. I also had a black leather couch and what looked like an impressive black and white bathroom through an open door across the room.

Everything was clean, sterile, and ultra-modern. It all just screamed of that cold bitch. I fought against the urge to go across and mess the perfectly fitted blankets on the bed. Because this place was giving me the creeps.

I’d moved further inside when a knock sounded from behind, and I turned to find yet another man standing there. It was not the driver, though, this man was in his late-fifties, with a thick head of gray hair.

“Good evening, Miss Deboise,” he said politely. “I’m Stewart, and I’m head of staff here at Deboise Estate. If you require anything, simply ring that little buzzer.” He pointed toward a black and gold button near the side of the bed. “And someone will be straight by.”

I nodded, and he turned to leave when I called out, “Where is all of my stuff? The lady at child services said they packed up the things from my home.” I near choked on that word, because the pain at knowing I’d never go back to that crappy little house was too much for me to handle. I’d take it over this cold mansion any day.

Stewart slowly turned, his face expressionless, although it did seem there was a slight softening of the lines around his eyes when he replied, “Mistress informed me that you had everything you needed in your room. We don’t have any other belongings for you.”

I stumbled back, and he reached out as if to grab me, but I waved him away before he could. “She didn’t bring any of my things?” I seethed. That fucking bitch.

As if it was poor Stewart’s fault, I glared at him and he just gave me a polite nod before backing up and closing my door as he left. Yeah, I’d bet that I wasn’t scary when he was used to working for the bitch of Upstate New York.

Fury burned and swirled in my gut, and since I generally wasn’t someone that held onto anger, I knew I needed to do something to blow off steam. My life had been ripped apart in the last ten days, I’d lost everything, and now … this was a bad situation. I knew it. I could feel it deep down. It was all too much for me to process—I needed a car. I needed to race and forget everything in my current shitty life. I’d been given no car privileges though.

In fact, I didn’t have a phone or any way of actually reaching the outside world. I was a veritable prisoner right now…

Except…

I didn’t have to be. What was stopping me from sneaking out of this house and taking my chances in the big wide world? I mean, Dante would help me, I was sure of it. He was probably going out of his mind with worry right now knowing that I’d just disappeared from the hospital never to be seen again.

A plan was already forming, but I knew it would be safest at dark. The expensive looking gold clock on the wall told me it was almost 4:00 p.m., which meant I had at least another hour before it was dark enough.

With nothing else to do, I explored my very temporary room. The bathroom was exactly as I thought, sleek and expensive, with the most tempting looking deep tub. Not quite tempting enough to put up with Mrs. Debitch though. A large room joined the main bedroom, and it was filled with clothes and shoes and makeup and … it was basically a mini-mall with every conceivable item a rich young chick would need. My mouth watered when I realized that there was a wall of shoes, and more than one pair of black heels with the red soles. I reached out and lifted one up, finding some swirly signature on it starting with an L. I had no idea what this brand was, but I was starting to see I had at least one thing in common with my birth mother. We were hooked on shiny black heels.

With reluctance, I placed it back on the shelf. I wouldn’t be taking anything from here with me.

The time ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace, but I had one shot at this. If she caught me, I would be under twenty-four hour security, I had no doubt. She wouldn’t have gone to all of this trouble to get me back, unless she really did “have need of me.”

When it finally got dark enough, I eased open the bedroom door and snuck a quick look to make sure no one was around. Normally I would have gone out the window, but with a broken arm, I couldn’t climb. My heart beat rapidly as I crept along the hall and down the stairs. There was a huge double staircase, which led to the impressive entrance to this house. Crystal chandeliers twinkled above, cascading lights across the marble.

I didn’t see anyone around, and was relieved when I managed to get outside and into the darkness without incident. From what I remembered, the front drive was long, which meant I was not safe until I was off Deboise land. Pausing, I realized that anyone this rich would have security. They were probably patrolling the perimeter right now, and I wondered if they shot trespassers.

I almost hesitated then, but I’d come this far, so I stopped thinking and started running.

Holding my broken arm against me, my legs pounded the pavement, and I veered off so I was away from the lights lining the main drive. The grass was thick and soft, and my pace picked up. My body still hurt. My head ached on and off, as it had done since I woke up, and no doubt this sort of sprinting was not recommended by my doctor when recovering from a car accident, but I didn’t care.