Hold Me Down

chapter 26

I blink, disoriented at first. I could feel that we were on solid ground. I glance out the window and see green countryside.

"What time is it?" I ask Will, rising out of my seat and following him out of the jet. I lightly touch the tops of the seats as I pass by them to keep my footing. My legs are slightly wobbly after being seated for so long.

I grip the railing of the stairs tightly as I make my way down to the ground. The sky is overcast, a calm gray after a light rain. The grass is a stark line of vibrant green dividing the horizon. There's nothing but grass and sky for what seems like miles.

"It's around noon. We've got to head into town. Let's go, sleepy head." He beckons to a sleek black car. Probably a rental.

I scowl and smooth down my hair. "Shut up."

Will's lips quirk up at the corners as he opens the side door for me. I climb in and put my seatbelt on. It feels strange to be sitting again; my legs slightly protest as I subject myself to another long period of inactivity.

Moments later, Will gets in beside me. "You okay?"

"I'm just stiff. Where are we going now?"

Will starts the engine and begins driving. "Town. I think we're only about twenty minutes away. It's not long.

I sigh, and lean back in my seat, absorbing the tiny muffled vibrations of the fast car. I study myself in the side view mirror as the countryside speeds by.

My hair is a mess. I comb through the brown tangled mess with my fingers and try to make a neat braid. I glance at Will, who looks heart breakingly beautiful as always.

"You drool when you sleep," Will says.

"I do not!" I protest.

"You do," he chuckles. "I took pictures."

"You're lying. Weren't you asleep?"

He grins. "I was pretending."

"No. Shut up. You're lying."

Will laugh and rolls up his sleeves, readjusting the grip on the wheel. The action has an unexplainable affect on me. I fix my gaze on his hands, nimble and slender yet masculine and strong.

This is ridiculous. They're his hands, for goodness sake. I swallow and look away.

Slowly, the landscape begins to morphe into a cityscape. Buildings start to pop up as we near the heart of the city. There's a quiet charm to York. Though populated, the city does not seem to be bustling with activity the same way New York or London does. I watch from the car window as people mill about, not in a rush, exchanging pleasantries in the quaint market.

The car slows to a stop in front of a gothic looking cathedral. The spire looms above us, casting a shadow on the surrounding buildings. The windows are boarded up, and a large metal gate surrounds the building. A sharply dressed man waits in front of the entrance.

Will and I climb out of the car and approach the looming structure. The surrounding buildings look modern while retaining their Victorian charm. This building though, looks as if it were falling apart. It looked very old. Distantly I wondered if the roof would fall in if I were to step inside.

"I know it's old. Starkweather refuses to renovate the place. He's so stuck on his old ways." Will crinkles up his nose.

I struggle to match his long strides as the man opens the gate to let us in. We hike up the winding path to the mansion. As we get closer, I notice vines snaking up the sides of the building. The garden lining the front is unkempt, wild rose bushes wilting against the dried brambles for support.

Will knocks against the door. The sound echoes through the silence. Just as I was about to suggest to Will that we should come back another time, the door swings open, revealing a hunched over man. He looks about as old as my grandfather.

"Mr. Herondale," the man greets and sticks out a hand to Will. He shakes his hand back. Will's face is coolly composed. Professional.

"Aloysius," Will greets back.

"And who's this?" the man gestures to me.

"Tessa Gray," I say to him.

"Welcome Ms. Gray. Please, you two. Come in."

We follow him inside the massive space. The lights are dimmed, the only light coming from a lit fireplace, which occupies the left of the large room. This struck me as strange, seeing as it was late June. The air was stuffy and uncomfortably warm. The walls were a muddy brown color, making the place seem claustrophobic, even though when I looked up, the ceiling was nowhere to be seen.

I studied my surroundings. The furniture looked ancient and moldy as if it hadn't been changed in decades. Each time I took a step, I felt as if my feet were sinking into the carpet. Ahead, I could see a dark corridor leading to the other rooms, no doubt. To my right, I saw that there was a staircase leading to the upstairs.

If Will was as uncomfortable as I was, he didn't show it. Starkweather led us to the corridor, which led to a dining room space. A woman lit the candles lining the walls as we entered the room, which felt just as claustrophobic as the living room. A large wooden table dominated the space, high- wooden backed chairs surrounding it.

I gingerly take a seat next to Will. The chair made an awful screeching noise when I pulled it out. I rest my hands in my lap as Will and Starkweather begin to negotiate. A man approaches Will with his luggage. Will sends him off, accepting the bag, and pulls out his laptop. The light emitted by the device is the brightest thing in the room, casting an almost eerie glow on Will's face.

He looked out of place in the sense that he was sharply dressed and clean cut, as handsome as a knife. This place and everything in it looked like it was from the 1800's. It even smelled old. Now I could see what Will meant when he said that Starkweather was stuck on his ways.

I am not sure what to do while the men discuss business. Throughout the conversation, I could notice the old man's attention on me. He would occasionally try and engage me into the conversation, to which I would politely provide my input and grow silent again. I did, however, give him my best smile when he would flit his eyes over to me.

After an hour of listening to their heated debates and bickering, the two finally reached some sort of agreement. I saw a house-cleaner hand Starkweather a large envelope. He takes a packet of papers out of the envelope and signs them. Will thrums his fingers against the table impatiently as Starkweather makes the final flourishes.

Finally, they rise out of the seats and shake hands. I follow Will out of the house, relieved that the meeting was finally over.

I inhale the clean, brisk air once we're outside. Will however, was still tense.

"What's wrong? You got the deal didn't you?" I turn to him.

"I want to gouge that man's eyes out for even looking at you," he says under his breath.

"Stop being ridiculous Will," I exclaim. "He was barely paying attention to me."

"He's an old sick fuck. Who knows what he was thinking... tank top... stupid braid..."

I could barely catch what Will was saying. I struggled to keep up with him as he angrily stormed away from Starkweather's home.

"Will!" I catch at his arm. I am alarmed at how he flinches when I touch him.

"I'm sorry," he tells me. "I shouldn't have brought you here."

"You're honestly being ridiculous! I wanted to come. I learned plenty."

"Sure you did," he rolled his eyes but he slowed down considerably, allowing me to catch up to him.

"So what're we going to do now?" I ask, keeping my tone lighthearted in order to downplay Will's temper.

"It's pretty late. We should get dinner and check into the hotel. We'll leave in the morning."

I nod wordlessly, focusing my attention of the last of the uneven stone steps. We'd finally left the Starkweather estate. We slip past the cold iron gates and reenter the town square.