Chapter Thirty-Three - Cindy
I sit up in bed, confused, my heart racing before I can make sense of where I’m at and what’s going on.
You’re at Mr. Romantic’s resort.
Someone sent you a silver envelope.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and go searching for my clothes.
“Pax?” I yell into the other room as I put my bra on and then tug my shirt over my head and slip on my panties and skirt. “Pax?” Where the hell is he?
I walk into the small living area and find it empty, then look back at the clock on the bedside table. It’s only ten thirty. Did he go looking for the silver envelope without me?
I open the cabana door and find a whole crowd of Misters and Misses still at the pool.
“There she is,” Ariel says, some kind of fruity drink in her hand.
“What the hell is going on here? Where did Pax go?”
Ariel walks towards me. “He left,” she says. “Went looking for Oliver.”
“Well, where’s that?”
“Probably the bar,” Ivy says. “It was a while ago. Oliver was in there getting drunk the last time I saw him. I’d leave them alone for a while. Let them work it out.”
That’s actually good advice. Except I’m not worried about Oliver anymore. I’m wondering what the hell Pax was thinking, going out without me.
“Thanks. But I’m just going to go check, just to make sure.” I start walking towards the little path that leads back to the main part of the resort but Ariel follows me, yanking on my arm hard enough to make me stop.
“You’re keeping secrets, baby sister. And I don’t like it. You need to tell me what you know.”
I turn and face Ariel. “You know,” I say, “if I had any answers for you, I might do that. But since you’re trying to bully me into submitting to your big sisterly bullshit, then I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Why are you so angry?” Ariel asks, blinking her blue eyes at me innocently.
“Me?” I say, pointing at myself. “I’m not angry. That’s always been you, Ariel. You’ve always been the angry sister. I just want to find Pax, so if you don’t mind—”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go with you,” she says.
“I do mind, Ariel. I’m not the baby anymore. I’m all grown up, see? And I’m looking for my boyfriend, so just go back to the party and leave me alone.”
I’m being mean. I realize that. But I need to get the fuck away from her right now. I need to get into that kitchen and see if Pax found the envelope without me. And I need to find him. And Oliver. Why did he get up and leave?
“I’m just trying to help, Cinderella.”
I sigh. “I know, Ariel. But butt out, OK? Just mind your own business. I’ll be back in a little bit with Pax and Oliver.”
I start walking again, willing her to stay put. I look over my shoulder just as I turn the corner and she’s still standing there, arms folded, drink in hand. But at least she doesn’t follow. So I hurry faster along the walkway, then push my way past a crowd of people at the pool. This place is super busy tonight. There must be two hundred people partying around the pool.
I finally get to the steps that lead to the main building and get inside. The bar packed too. And a live band is playing. But I do catch sight of Oliver and Pax, back near the pool table.
I stop and watch them for a moment, wondering if I should join them or go grab the envelope first. They are smiling and joking, our problems temporarily forgotten. So I opt for plan B and head down the hallway towards where I think the kitchen is. I know there are two of them, the main one used for the restaurant and bar orders, and the catering kitchen used as spillover for the private parties.
The main kitchen is still working, but it’s slow. I keep going until I’m in front of the stainless-steel double doors that lead to the catering kitchen and know that no one is in there, because there’s two little windows and both are dark.
I glance over my shoulder, just to see if anyone is looking. All clear. So I push my way through.
Inside there’s a little bit of light coming from various outlets that have some kind of nightlight hooked up to them, but other than that, it’s pretty dark. Which is perfect, since the last thing I need is for someone to see me get that envelope before I have a chance to read it.
I stop and look around, trying to orient myself and figure out where I was standing earlier, my eyes adjusting to the dark. The way the dim, blue lights make the stainless tables glow as I make my way down the aisle towards the back of the room.
This one, I decide, looking at the table in front of me with pots and pans hanging from a rack above it. This was where I was standing.
I bend down and start feeling on the floor for the envelope.
Nothing!
Jesus Christ, what if they really did throw it away? Like the kitchen staff found it? Or what if Pax got here first?
I stand up and a shadowy figure is standing on the other side of the room. I squint my eyes, trying to make out who it is. “Pax?”
A sharp pain shoots up my neck, my hand going there instinctively, only to find a small, needle-like spike sticking out of my skin. “What the hell—” I pull it out and throw it on the ground, and then gasp when the shadowy figure starts moving towards me.
“Who are you? Pax?” My heart is beating abnormally fast all of a sudden. “Pax?” My vision starts to go blurry as it gets closer. I back up, but hit the stove, and just stand there like I’m paralyzed.
“What’s—”
But I know. I don’t even need to ask.
I’ve been drugged.
I turn around, try to take a few steps, stumble, and have to use the stove to hold myself up.
When I look behind me, the figure is only a few steps away.
“Not Paxton,” the figure says. “Fortunately.”
“Who are you?” I squint my eyes. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot make out the form. It’s not until it’s almost upon me that I realize it’s not some shadowy figure. It’s a woman in a long, silver robe with a hood over her head.
“I would hate to kill him before we had to,” she says as I slump down to the floor, unable to move.
“What—” did you do? But the last part of my sentence doesn’t happen anywhere but in my own mind. I cannot talk. I slump down, and the last thing I feel is a few strands of hair being tugged from my head as they catch on the stove on my way down.
I cannot move.
“We like him, Cinderella Shrike. We approve of him, so very good job, young lady. Thank you for being so cooperative.”
And then everything goes black.