Page 59 of Trapped With You

“Oh, God.” I gasped. “It’s starting.”

We broke into a chuckle-cackle combo.

It soon faded away like the storm outside, leaving in its place a bittersweetness that only emphasized the length of time we’d gone by without laughing together. Something so simple but significant in our relationship. We had shared many jokes and smiles over three years.

Cade, to my surprise, didn’t comment on the fact that this was our first shared laugh in three months. Instead, he ran his fingers around the edges of the painting. “This is the only picture on this floor, so we’re obviously on the right path.”

“Maybe if we lift the painting, there will be something hidden behind.”

Cade wrapped his fingers around the ornate frame and tried to lift, his expression morphing with exertion. “Fuck, I think it’s bolted to the wall.”

“Let me try.”

“It’s heavy, baby, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he said softly, not being patronizing at all. “And I don’t want you to break your pretty nails either.”

The sincere display of concern melted my heart into apuddle. This man, he incited the most hot and cold reactions from me. One minute I was happy. Another minute I was angry. And afterwards I was torn.

Despite knowing I was strong, Cade never let me open my own doors or lift anything too hefty. Princess treatment only for me. From him holding my designer bags during shopping sprees to him massaging my feet at the end of them. I was a goddess in his presence and he, my humblest, dearest devotee.

“I’m made of sterner stuff, Cade.”

“Don’t I know it.” A crestfallen smile flashed on his lips, but it was gone as quick as it came. “If you insist, though, have at it—oh, fuck.”

We both flinched at the gravelly noise that erupted in the hallway. Loud like the yawn of an angry monster being forced to rise from his slumber.

“What is that?” I hissed.

Still bolted to the wall, the painting was tilted at an awkward, sideways angle.

At the end of the hallway, there was a door disguised as a grey brick wall that creaked open like the gate to a demon’s cave.

For the first time tonight, a frisson of fear skated down my spine.

“I think there was a lever hidden behind the painting. That’s why I couldn’t yank it off. It was hiding”—Cade chin-nodded towards the end of the hallway—“whatever lies beyond there.”

“That’s where the next dare is.”How wonderful. “I really hope that doesn’t lead us to the belfry.”

The bell tower was connected to this building. I wouldn’t be surprised if the opening was a passageway that led straight to the belfry. And the last thing I wanted was for us to climb all the way to the top and get pushed down to our deaths by some vengeful entity.

Sure, I was a thrill junkie, but I’d like to stay alive.

Protectiveness poured into Cade’s frame. “Stay here. I’ll go check it out. You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“It could be dangerous, Ella.” He grabbed my wrist to halt me, his thumb roving over my veins in an endearing manner. “I can’t risk it.”

I glanced down at his hand, basking in the heat emanating from the touch. Before showing up to Initiation Night, I was still on theI-hate-Cadebandwagon. Now my feelings were a mess. Nothing was black or white. It was all grey and murky.

I wanted to continue hating him. Yet with every second spent in his presence, it was getting harder to remember how he’d betrayed, humiliated, and shattered me in one strike.

It was just the magic of the night and the close proximity that had us momentarily acting like our old selves.

The Ella and Cade before tragedy struck us.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

There was no other reason because there was no hope of reconciliation.