“Look in the bag.” I tilted my head to the floor in front of us. Leaning forward, Fern opened it and groaned.
“How did you know to pack this?” she asked as she pulled out leggings, one of my hoodies, thick socks, her laptop, headphones and a fleecy blanket that had been in one of the trunks Neo sent that were now in the second car with three of the bodyguards.
“You forget, I spend half my life on the road. While you looked badass this morning, it’s no travel outfit. So I packed these for you. I’ll close my eyes, get changed, put the socks on, and then let’s watch a movie and eat some of the food Helen packed for us. Matt messaged to check you’re okay and I’ve sent him the photos of your injuries, like you asked. He’s asked someone called Thomas Lanton to speak to you when you get back to London. He’s the one that sent Jarrid.” I nodded my head to where he sat on the other side of the privacy screen I’d raised as soon as we’d stepped into the car.
“Thank you. Right, close your eyes. Let me get out of these ridiculous jeans.”
A few minutes later, Fern pressed her hand to my arm. “All good. You can open them now.”
She was curled up, the blanket over her like a protective cocoon. “Let’s eat,” she demanded. “And Charlie? Can you stop being nice to me? It’s unnerving and makes me feel like a victim. I need snarky Charlie back. Say something mean.”
I let out a loud laugh. “Aw, Princess, I thought you’d never ask.”
“What the hell is this place?” I asked as I stepped out of the car, holding out my hand to an exhausted looking Fern, who took it gratefully. I noticed that she didn’t let go, and I tried to ignore how natural it felt to have her fingers wrapped in mine.
We stood at the end of a long road looking at a lighthouse on the edge of a rocky cliff.
“You wanted somewhere no one would find you,” Jarrid reminded me.
“Not somewhere we’d be murdered,” I mumbled.
“Look, this place is safe. The lighthouse isn’t in use anymore. There’s a house at the end of the lane, where the boys and I will stay until you’re ready to leave. The whole place is locked down with cameras, so we’ll know if anyone even tries to get close. Go rest, regroup and when you’re ready, Fern, we’ll take you back to London.”
I stared down at her, expecting to see tears or fear after everything she’d been through, but instead, I was met with a huge smile.
“I love it. It’s so… it’s perfect. Thank you both for helping me get out of there. I think this is just what I need.”
“There’s wifi but your phone signal might be a bit sketchy, so if you need me, there’s a landline with a direct link to the house I’m in. If you need anything, just lift it and it’ll connect. There’s a storm due, so don’t wander too far as the weather turns quickly here. The fridge is stocked and there’s plenty of firewood, but any problems, call me.”
She placed her free hand on Jarrid’s monstrous shoulder. “Thank you.”
Walking into the lighthouse, her hand still firmly in mine, was like stepping back in time. The place was tiny. Low ceilings that barely cleared my 6 foot 3 frame, we stood in the living room, taking in the small two seater sofa, covered in colorful, mismatched throws and a well used red armchair around a low, dark wood coffee table. There was a small TV in the corner next to a huge fireplace that dominated the room almost as much asthe large single window that gave the picture perfect view of the horizon across the choppy sea.
“How did we end up here?” Fern asked quietly.
“I have no idea,” I replied, my eyes dancing around the room as I took everything in from the old, rickety bookcase to the storm lanterns filled with candles.
“Matt said it belonged to a friend of his. But I mean, who owns a disused lighthouse?”
She turned to look at me. “If it’s disused, does that mean they don’t turn the light on because it spinning around and around all night might get a bit annoying?”
“I guess so. I hope so, otherwise, we’ll be responsible for stopping ships crashing in the night and that’s more responsibility than I can handle,” I chuckled.
Pulling her hand gently, we walked from the room through a door and into the kitchen and then to a short hall with three doors off it. One led to a tiny bathroom with only a sink, toilet, and an old fashioned bath that looked like it was built for the same small people who fitted easily under the low ceilings.
Fern looked between me and the bath and rolled her lips together, obviously trying to hold in a giggle. I nudged her with my hip, shaking my head before we moved to the next door, which was a bedroom.
“Oh my God, was this place made for children? That bed is tiny.”
The room did have what looked like a small double, piled high with pillows and comforters, another large fireplace, and a second perfect view of our setting for the next week.
“I can sleep on the couch,” I offered, running my thumb over the back of her hand, so she didn’t panic about our sleeping arrangements, but she didn’t say anything back, moving to the final door. This one was heavier to open and led to a bare brick room with a metal circular staircase stretching upward.
“Is that…” Fern gasped.
“You want to go look?”
She nodded, her good eye glistening with excitement.