Page 73 of Roses & Ruin

The air is drenched in sea spray, smelling of brine and ice. We round a bend and I catch sight of a moody, sea oat–lined promontory: the perfect spot to contemplate heartache and beauty.

“Welcome to Crimson Bluff,” Hayden says. Of course Hayden lives here.

He docks us at a wooden landing at the bottom of a rickety staircase that climbs a rocky escarpment to the top of a cliff. The winds grow more fierce, the snow heavier as we make the climb. Hayden’s right behind me, hand always at my back, so I tell myself there’s nothing to fear, even if the height is slightly maddening.

Another looming silhouette greets us through the snowy fog when we reach the top, taking my breath away. The shape of a great, sprawling mansion appears on the horizon. Hayden follows me as I rush toward an imperious wrought iron gate down a stone path powdered white with snow and frost.

The closer I get, the more I see that time, ocean wind, and salt have weathered this place. The gate is rusty, and the trees and bushes are overgrown and wild. The mansion is sprawling and tall, with many windows and a grand entrance of tall, wooden doors.

It’s also heavy with an air of neglect. Too many salty gales have shaken the wooden planks that make the walls. Blooms of lichen cling to the corners of the shutters, the sculpted eaves of the pointed roofs. It’s crumbling and melancholy and utterly, utterly beautiful.

“Welcome,” Hayden says, “to Caldwell Manor.” I turn to look up at Hayden.

Caldwell. That was my name once too, I can’t help but think. He swallows hard, and a violet swirl of pain surfaces in his gaze.

I wonder if he had the same thought.

“Come on.” He hikes our luggage higher on his shoulder, and heads to the front door. “We need to prepare. The storm is coming.”

—

I’m warming up magnificently in front of an enormous fireplace that’s as tall as I am, blinking owlishly at the surrounding walls of books that span two stories, thinking, Eat your heart out, Belle. A library. Hayden has a library.

Hayden dashes around the mansion, turning on the central heating, double-checking the generator, water, and power to make sure all is well and safe. Apparently, he’s paid the local contractors of Nocturne Bay a stupid amount of money to do semi-routine maintenance and updates over the years. Seems like they do a middling job. To be fair, it’s a terrible commute.

“We’re all good.” Hayden strides into the room, dusting off his hands. “It’ll take a sec for the heating to kick in, but looks like I haven’t totally been throwing away my money.” I train my gawping mouth at him. He raises a single brow. “What?”

“You have a library,” I wheeze. Hayden crosses his arms, tipping his head back to take in the cold, cavernous room.

“We have a library,” he says. It would flood me with giddiness if Hayden weren’t turning away from me right now to stand in front of the arched two-story window. He pulls open the dark velvet drapes, revealing the heavy snow, the angry sea beyond. “There are four escape tunnels scattered throughout the mansion,” he begins stiffly. “I’ll show you later and download the map on your phone.” I leave the warmth of the fire to cross over to the window.

“I wish there were more, but at least they’re spread out. One near my bedroom, one in each wing, and the last one goes underground through the kitchen galley, empties out in the sea. That one’s actually kind of dangerous because of the tide. Also, I haven’t checked the tunnels in a while—”

“Hayden?” I stand at his elbow, but he doesn’t look at me.

“It could collapse, but I don’t expect us to need that one. I think we’ll be fine with the other ones—”

“Hayden?”

“Rose, please,” Hayden says, suddenly fierce. He grabs my hands but keeps his eyes ducked. “Please. I need to know we’ve done everything humanly and inhumanly possible. I…”

“Hayden,” I whisper, bringing his hands to my lips.

“What?” he whispers back, sighing.

I don’t want to talk escape plans right now. I don’t want to draw up battle tactics, crouch in the dirt and point to schematics we drew with our fingers, debate best exit routes and talk about contingencies and say things like If something happens to me…

I want to open every book in this ginormous library and press my nose into the crevice between the pages and sniff deeply while Hayden looks on, baffled and amused. I want to make out with him for an hour at least against that ladder over by the fireplace. I want to enjoy the fact that I am in his mansion, one that Hayden says is also sort of mine.

But most of all? I really just want to see Hayden’s eyes.

“Look at me?” I say. Hayden hesitates a moment before lifting his dark, liquid eyes to mine. “What other ridiculous rooms have you got here? You got an In-N-Out?” I consider it a personal victory when his eyelids flicker and he lets out an amused exhale through his nose.

“No,” he finally says, raising a brow at me.

“A Dave & Buster’s?”

“Aw,” Hayden says sarcastically. “How I wish I’d thought to build one.”