Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

TAVISH

To say this is ridiculous is putting it mildly. I know Draven is worried because the visitor wasn't expected, and he couldn't see their face, but locking me away in a tower like a princess is taking things a bit too far. Why I cannot follow daddy down the stairs to see who's buzzing at the door, I don't know. I know I'd feel safer if I were with Draven if there was a problem. I'm not convinced there is.

After a moment or two of sitting on the small stool just inside the door to the passageway, I grab the flashlight sitting on the shelf. I turn away from the door leading back into the bedroom closet and head toward where Draven said the passages all meet and lead out of the house.

This is giving serious secret society vibes and I'm in a secret society. Hell, I helped create the damn thing, and our headquarters don't give as much of the vibe as this does.

The passageways are stone. The floors, walls, and ceilings are all stone. And cold. I don't know if that's natural or if it's because the cool night air outside is sweeping through the passages from outside.

It feels like a crypt, if I'm honest.

Pushing the thought out of my mind, I keep walking until I come to the intersection Draven spoke of. It's a large round room, just as he said. As I look around the space, I notice little plaques next to each of the openings that split off from it. Some of them lead back to other rooms, others lead out of the castle.

"This is some next level shit," I say to myself.

I would've never thought I would live in a castle. A real castle with hidden passageways, and while I've not seen it yet, I'm sure if I go looking, there's a dungeon somewhere on the property. I mean, I do have my own personal Viking.

Chuckling to myself, I turn down the passage that says it leads to the study. Maybe I'll be able to sneak a peek at the person at the door, causing all this ruckus. A few steps later, I hear a door, or what I think is a door. It definitely sounded like squeaky hinges.

I spin around, rushing back the way I came, yelling, "Daddy!"

As I come to the intersection and the big round room, I bounce off of something, falling flat on my back, my head hitting the floor. My vision dims, and my stomach turns as blinding pain shoots through my skull.

Looking up, fighting to see through the pain and blurry vision, I gasp, "You!"

Samuel's face fills my vision, and that evil smile stretches his mouth wide. His breath is as vile as it has always been.

"That's right, boy. I found you. Now I'm going to make you pay for running from me. I am going to take out every day you've been away from me on your ass. I'm gonna string you up on the cross, and I am going to beat you fucking bloody."

Another door squeaks open, this one nowhere near as loud as the last, and I hear, "Tavish, where are ye?"

Samuel growls in my face, "If you dare make a noise or utter a single word…"

He doesn't elaborate. He doesn't have to. I know exactly what words he left out. He'll hurt Draven.

At the thought of what Samuel would do to him, a whimper escapes, and I smack my hand over my mouth. I can't let him hurt my Daddy.

He chuckles. "You may not be fucking smart all the time, but you definitely know how when you need to be."

Draven is now yelling for me. All the cute nicknames that I've come to love are bouncing off the stone, bringing tears to my eyes. I don't want him to think that I left him.

Surely, he wouldn't.

"You're going to come with me, and you're going to do it quietly. If you make trouble, I'll make certain that he never takes another breath."

He yanks me up on my feet. My stomach swoops in my body. Bile rushes up and out as I vomit all over the floor. Samuel hates when I puke, which makes no sense because the man loves to make me do it. He screams. His voice echoes off the stone, mixing with Draven's.

Draven screams, "Tavish!"

Daddy's footsteps echo throughout the cavernous space while Samuel drags me behind him by the wrist as if he's towing a boat. He rushes toward a passage. Glancing at it as we pass through the archway, I notice he's chosen one that leads back into the house.

I weigh my options.

Do as I'm told and follow Samuel.

Or yell for Draven, telling him where Samuel's taking me.

The risks with both options are huge. None bigger than Samuel hurting Draven, but I have to take a chance. I must trust that he can take care of himself.

"Draven! The atrium!"

"I'm coming for ye, Tavish!"

"Kill him!" Samuel yells.

"Draven, they're coming for you!"

"There is no they, lad. It was a hoax," he calls back.

"I promise you, I'll kill him, boy. He will die, and you will wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you."

Planting my feet, I grab at the bumps and knobs protruding from the rugged stone walls, trying to get free. Samuel jerks me toward him, and my hand slides, slipping across the rough surfaces. My nails tear from their beds, leaving my fingers bloody. The pain sears from fingertips through my hand. The excruciating throbbing turns my stomach and steals my breath.

I push away the pain, ignoring it as I scramble to yank my wrist from his grasp. But his hand grips me so tightly that my joints pull and twist, making everything from my fingertips to my shoulder hurt.

"Let him go!" Draven yells from behind us.

Twisting to catch sight of him, I reach out with my bloodied hand, yelling, "Daddy!"

"Fuck!" Samuel yells, jerking on me as he races toward the door that's just now come into sight.

Samuel barrels into the door. I smack into his back while he fumbles with the latch that's delaying our escape. Those tiny moments make me hopeful Draven will reach me in time to keep Samuel from dragging me through that door.

"It's okay, pojke," Draven says, reaching toward me as I do the same toward him.

We're so close. So freaking close. And just when I think he's going to save me, I'm yanked away, and the door slams shut. Samuel spins this way and that before rushing toward a table. He flips over the table, sliding it against the door before moving several large planters against it. They must weigh a ton because he's out of breath, pushing them into place.