The Beast

25

HAZEL

I close my eyes and listen closely. My heart beats loudly, disrupting my focus. The men are outside, talking a few feet away from the closet door. The chemicals are clutched in my hands, ready to be mixed together and create a toxic bomb. But everything must be timed perfectly. If I could just get the gas in their eyes, they would be debilitated instantly.

I'm no fighter. This could go sideways easily.

It's my only chance. I can't wait forever for Ronan to find me. As powerful as he is, the world past the estate walls is vast. He might never find me.

The men's voices pick up. They're bickering about being hungry.

"Fine! Then I'll go and buy some fucking stew from the prostitutes! But you're paying!"

They're separating. This is good. I only have to worry about one of them.

The door closes after a minute, and I hear the springs of a bed squeak. This is it. This is my moment. The closet is unlocked and freedom is just a few steps away.

I struggle to gather my courage, picturing Ronan and my mother's face. I can't wait months to see them or allow these kidnappers to do as they wish with my body.

Please. Please. Don't fail, Hazel. This is your one shot to be more than a maid. More than a clumsy girl who stumbled into her lord's life. You've grown so much. Now is the time to show it.

Soft snoring comes from the distance. The man is lying defenseless mere feet away. And as criminal as it is, I have no intention of waiting for him to wake up and defend himself.

I take a deep breath and hold it, quickly mixing the bleach and ammonia. There's a loud sizzle as the chemicals mix, and I rip out of the closet, awkwardly handling the plastic container in front of me with my bound hands.

My frantic eyes absorb the room in a millisecond. The bed is to the left, and the lights are dimmed.

My kidnapper stirs awake, but before he can sit up, I douse him with the chemical, holding my breath like it's the last one I'll ever take. He screams, scratching at his eyes and coughing as I drop the plastic bottle and run for it.

I hear him stumbling and crying. I've never heard a grown man cry, but it's a haunting sound. I make the mistake of looking back when I reach the door. He's rubbing at his eyes, desperate for his sight.

My heart drops when I realize the door is locked. My luck has run out.

But I'm in too deep to return to the closet.

I run to the window and struggle to lift the dusty panel with my bound hands. Fresh air blows my hair backward. I steal a gasp as I look down. I'm only one story up. I can make it. I have to.

I swing a leg over, my sore muscles aching as I stuff my entire body through the window, falling down seven feet onto a puddle.

Heads turn, but I don't make much eye contact as I run for my life. I don't recognize my surroundings. The estate is supposed to be atop a hill in the distance, but as I whip my head around, I don't see my home.

I'm in a new territory. A new town that's likely out of Ronan's domain.

I kneel beside a broken glass bottle shoved into a fence and saw the rope off my wrists.

"Where's the town doctor?" I ask two young girls, who grip their long skirts and run away from me.

I must look crazy. Dirty, desperate, and rugged.

I swallow as I walk barefoot down the cobblestones, reading the wooden signs hanging on the small shops.

I need a trustworthy source. A sheriff, a doctor. Anyone that doesn't deal with kidnapping and trafficking.

"Sir, please, I've been attacked. I need to find the doctor." I beg a gentleman, who takes his hat off as he stares at me with pity.

"He's on the main road. Just keep walking to your right. The clinic is a blue building. Go on."

I run, crying out when I pass by a saloon and a drunk ward leaning by the door reaches out for me. As if he thinks I'm just as drunk because I'm covered in filth and lost.

I keep moving, looking desperately for the clinic. The smell of chemicals follows me. I have a feeling I won't be able to wash away the smell for a long time.

There's a tight ball of guilt in my stomach. I did what I had to do to survive those men, but I find no pride in maiming one of them.

I barge into the clinic, and a nurse in a gray dress with a white apron rushes to intercept me.

"I need help!"

She scans me, looking composed. "Where are you hurt?"

"N—nowhere. But I was kidnapped and—"

"Miss, the sheriff is across the town. The doctor is treating patients and cannot advise you. The sheriff should return from his hunting round in the evening."

Across town? How can I get there barefoot and lost?

"What's this commotion?" Asks an older, glaring male. The doctor emerges from a room.

"Doctor, I need to send word that I've been kidnapped. I can pay you."

"I've got no interest in your change, girl. Go to the sheriff."

"But I'm not from around here."

He crosses his arms. "Where are you from then?"

"From the estate. The nearest one. It's right by—"

He barks a laugh. "The estate? No one but the Lord has entered or left that place in years. If you're really from this estate, then you were banished the second you took a step past the walls."

"Do you know the Lord?"

He shrugs a shoulder, smiling proudly. "Of course. Even saw him without his hood once."

What a strange thing to brag about. As if Ronan is a collectible to show off.

"He will want to hear from me. Trust me. He would be in your debt if you helped me."

"And why do you think so highly of yourself, girl? You are wasting my time. Such a reclusive and powerful Lord wouldn't have business with—"

"I'm the mistress of the estate," I blurt, fisting my hands.

Where is his empathy? I know that he owes me nothing, but I'm only asking for a bit of help.

I hate using Ronan's name to help myself. But without his name, this doctor wouldn't give me the time of day. I have no money to pay him.

He frowns, staring at me intently and likely wondering if I'm crazy and in need of a shrink. "A mistress?" He repeats.

"We were by the gate. Two men grabbed me and shot him. I swear it. If you help me, I'll ensure you're compensated."

He glares. "Better not be causing a ruse for nothing, miss." He turns to the nurse. "Get a runner boy. Send him to the estate to pass the word along. Call for the Lord and tell him that his self-proclaimed mistress is in my clinic, dressed in muddy rags."

He doesn't believe me, but he's taking a chance. I nearly collapse with relief. I'm so close. I'm almost home.

"Now listen. The roads will be closed today because of a worker's strike in the factories. It will take a few days for anyone to reach you. No cars or carriages will be allowed through the barricades."

But the doctor is wrong. Because only two hours after the runner was sent, Ronan shows up and tears the clinic door down. No strikes or blockades stopped him.

I'm sleeping on a stretcher in a corner of the clinic when I hear the loud bangs and wood creaking. I sit up instantly, fearing my kidnappers found me. But then I hear that rumbling, thunderous voice that strikes the fear of god into men's hearts.

"Hazel!"

And I know it's him