He ran over to the bottom of the trellis and began his precarious climb, a lumpy bag on his back. He climbed over the windowsill with a grin, which she matched.
“Hey there, hottie,” he said.
Rapunzel couldn’t stop the blush infusing her cheeks, to which he responded with a laugh. Refusing to give him any further satisfaction, she responded, “Hey there, Fab.”
“Ah,” he said teasingly, “she finally understands my true nature.”
“You really like yourself, don’t you?”
“Yes. And so do you—don’t deny it.” His eyes sparkled with humor as he shrugged the bag off his shoulders.
“Is that what you brought me?” she asked, pointedly avoiding his question. “A bag to carry on my shoulders?”
“No, Rapunzel, I didn’t bring you a backpack. It’s what’s inside the backpack that counts.”
He strode into the kitchen area, Rapunzel following curiously. He set the bag on the counter and opened it, and she moved closer. He looked at her, suddenly stopping.
“Hey,” Fane said. “You braided your hair.”
“Yes,” she said, fingering it self-consciously.
He walked next to her, touching it, lifting the heavy mass from where the tip of it barely brushed the floor. “That must take a while to do, huh?”
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “I braid it most days. It makes it much easier to maneuver.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he said. “How heavy is your hair?”
Rapunzel gathered the bulk of it up and laid it on his arms to join the small amount he held.
“Holy crap! That’s heavy. How in the world do you lug that around all day?”
“I’m used to it, I guess.”
“Doesn’t it give you a headache?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged.
Fane released the hair slowly, not letting it drop in one move. He placed his hands on both sides of her neck. A funny feeling zoomed its way up her spine at his touch. His hands were gentle as his fingers kneaded her neck.
“Good neck muscles, huh?” he asked, releasing her. Rapunzel couldn’t answer, deeply affected by the sensations caused by his touch. Fane seemed unfazed, moving back toward his backpack. He pulled out a flat, greasy box. “The pizza’s probably a little smooshed from being sideways, but it’ll still taste good.” He pulled out a smaller package wrapped in foil. “Garlic bread,” he announced with a grin.
Rapunzel breathed in the intoxicating smell. She’d never tasted either pizza or garlic bread, but they smelled heavenly. She pulled two plates from the cabinet and set them on the counter. Fane opened the box and maneuvered the soggy mass back into a shape that somewhat resembled a circle. He placed a piece on each plate before unwrapping the foil and placing a piece of bread on each.
Rapunzel sat next to him and took her first bite of pizza. Her eyes widened as she glanced at Fane. A smile spread across her face as she quickly took two more bites, filling her mouth.
He laughed. “Like it?”
“Mm-hm,” she mumbled around another mouthful.
“Taste the bread,” he suggested.
She reluctantly set the pizza down and picked up the bread. Once again amazement lit her face.
“Fane,” she enthused. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”
He grinned with satisfaction as she returned to devouring her treat. When she was full, she finished yet another slice of pizza and half a piece of garlic bread until she felt a little sick. It was worth it.
“Well,” Fane said, “I’m impressed at the amount of food you managed to pack into that small body. Most girls would eat a dainty amount and leave the table still hungry to impress me.”
Rapunzel turned horrified eyes on him. “I . . . I didn’t—”
Fane laughed and held up a hand. “Please, don’t apologize. It doesn’t impress me when they do that. I much prefer to see my money well spent on a hearty appetite.”
Rapunzel smiled uncertainly.
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” He cocked his head and looked at her.
Her brows lowered in confusion. “Ask you what?”
“Why I was late.”
“Oh, that.” She shrugged. “You’re here now, so that’s all that matters, right?”
He shook his head in amazement. “You definitely aren’t like the other girls I know.” Rapunzel didn’t know whether to take that as good or bad. “I’m going to tell you anyway. Since you’re sitting here in oblivion, you may not know that your house is usually swarming with construction workers.”
Rapunzel narrowed her eyes at him. “I do happen to know that, Mr. Obvious.”
Fane laughed. “That’s not . . . never mind. Well, what you might not know is that I had to wait for them to leave before I could sneak in. Apparently they work until six.”
“Oh,” was all Rapunzel could say. She hadn’t thought about the workers when she arranged for him to come. Because she heard them but rarely saw them, they were almost a nonentity in her world.
“Ready to see what I brought you?” he teased.
“It wasn’t the pizza?” She was surprised. The pizza was more than enough.
“No, I told you I was bringing dinner. That’s not the surprise.”
“So this is the thing worth killing me over if you told me prior to bringing it?”
“Absolutely.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a floppy, book-sized brown bag and handed it to her. She could feel hundreds of small discs inside.
“M&M’s?” she read. When he didn’t answer, she looked up to see him watching her with a stunned look. “What?” she asked.
“You don’t know what M&M’s are?”
Rapunzel looked back down at the package. “Should I?”
“Oh, my friend,” Fane moaned. “You have been far too sheltered.” He smacked a hand on the counter, startling her. “I’ve decided from now on, it’s my privilege—nay, my duty,” he punched the air with one finger lifted, “to introduce you to all of the wonders of life that you’ve been missing.”
Rapunzel laughed. “Well, based on the pizza, I can hardly wait.”
Fane took the package from her and tore a corner open. “This candy serves a double purpose. Not only are they delicious . . .” He took one of the candies and held it to her mouth. She opened and he popped it in. “They also make excellent poker chips.”
Rapunzel chewed the chocolate candy and grinned at him.
“Like them?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said, holding out a hand for more. He dumped a small amount of the brightly colored discs into her hand but refused to give her more, claiming they needed them all for poker. They sat at the table and he explained the value of the different colors of candy—which fascinated her with how pretty they were—along with the rules of poker and how to bet.
Rapunzel found she had a knack for the game, and with mounting pleasure, she watched Fane become more and more frustrated. After an hour, he threw down his cards.
“Uncle!” he exclaimed.
“Uncle?” Rapunzel repeated.
“It means I give up. Are you sure you’ve never played this game before?”
“Never,” she confirmed.
“Wait,” he said, “where are all your winnings?”
Rapunzel glanced down at her relatively small pile of the brightly colored candy. “I ate them,” she said.
“In that case I win,” Fane declared.
“No, you didn’t. I won and you know it.”
“Look at my pile compared to yours.” He indicated his pile, decidedly larger than hers.
Rapunzel picked up three more candies and tossed them into her mouth. “I won,” she stated. “And I ate my winnings. So really, I won twice.”
Fane shook his head at her, scratching absently at his goatee. “You’re kind of stubborn, huh?”
She shrugged. She hadn’t ever had anything to be stubborn about before, had never argued with her mother. But she genuinely en
joyed arguing with Fane.
He sighed deeply, stood, and walked to his backpack. “I brought you one more thing.”
Excited, she jumped up and hurried over to him.
“But I don’t know if I should give it to you. I mean, unless you’re willing to concede my victory.”
“Never,” she said, leaning intently toward him against the counter.
He sighed again, this time dramatically. “Fine. You win. Besides, this is just as much for me as for you. Maybe more so.”
Rapunzel stood up straight, anticipation doubled. Fane pulled a screwdriver out of his backpack and held it up triumphantly.
“Voilà!” he exclaimed.
Rapunzel shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
“This is our key, Rapunzel. This is how we get out of this room and explore the house.”
Rapunzel’s eyes flew to the door, as if someone might be standing there listening. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She hadn’t ever thought to step outside the doorway. Of course she also hadn’t ever thought to have anyone besides her mother in her rooms. She returned her gaze to Fane’s eager, questioning look. Did she dare?
chapter
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11
.**
What about Cook?” Rapunzel asked.
“We’ll be quiet,” Fane said. He stilled next to the doorknob, looking at her. “Wait, is this dangerous for you, Rapunzel? Do you think you might get sick by going out there? Because it’s not worth that.”
Rapunzel hadn’t even thought of that. She remembered the mask. “Hold on,” she said. She hurried into the kitchen and pulled it from the drawer she stored it in. She walked back to Fane and held it out to him. He grinned.
“Brilliant.” He took it from her, placing it over her mouth and nose, hooking the elastics behind her ears, and pressing the wire along the upper edge to conform to the shape of her nose and cheeks. “There, now you look—”
“Yes, hot, I know,” she said, voice muffled, eyes rolling.
Fane smiled. “I was going to say like a doctor, but if you think you look hot, then ya know, who am I to argue?” he teased and then added, “A hot doctor.”
Rapunzel’s face suffused with heat. Thankfully the mask covered a good portion of her cheeks, hiding her discomfiture.
“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, and he turned to the knob. After a short time, he tugged the knob, pulling it out. Rapunzel gasped as he pushed the opposite side out, the knob falling with a quiet thunk on the opposite side. There was a small hole where the handle had been. He stuck a finger in, pushed something, and the door clicked open. He glanced back at her and, holding her gaze, pulled the door open.
Panic crawled up Rapunzel’s throat as she gazed at the gaping hole where her door should be. Beyond the opening was a carpeted hallway with a wall on the opposite side, which explained the lack of noise when the handle fell. Ambient light came from an unknown source. Fane stuck his head out the door, and she felt the overwhelming need to pull him back inside. He glanced both ways and turned back to Rapunzel with a wide grin.
If it hadn’t been for that grin, she would never have had the courage to grasp his proffered hand. She held on tightly as he stepped stealthily across the threshold. She stopped short before taking the same step, and he glanced back with a question on his face. She took a deep breath, pulling all of the courage she could find, exhaled, and stepped out of her room for the first time in her life.
Fane squeezed her hand twice, as if he understood what it took. He turned and moved down the hallway, Rapunzel following, trembling wildly. When they came to the end, there were stairs going up and down. He listened for a minute then turned back.
“Up or down?” he asked.
Rapunzel knew that down was likely Cook, so she said, “Up.”
Disappointment lined Fane’s face, but he ascended anyway. Going up with hands held was awkward, but Rapunzel doubted she could continue without holding on to him. The stairs spiraled upward, the shadows deepening as they climbed. Upon reaching the top, they faced a heavy wooden door. Fane grasped the handle, which turned easily enough beneath his grip, but the door didn’t budge. He was forced to let go of her hand in order to push with his shoulder. He gave several shoves before stopping.
“Won’t open,” he stated the obvious. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushing a button to light it up. With the small amount of light they could see the lock that bolted from the opposite side. “Well, I don’t think my ‘key’ is going to open this one. I guess we go down.” He pushed past her, grasping her hand once again as they descended.
They passed her open doorway, and Rapunzel had a momentary urge to go inside and close the door, to regain a feeling of safety. Instead, she continued to follow Fane down the next flight of winding stairs. The landing opened into a larger hallway that led from a small hallway similar to the one across from Rapunzel’s rooms. Light streamed up the stairs from the lower floor, so Fane led her down the wide hallway, going slowly and listening carefully.
They eventually came to a T, the hallway continuing to the left and right. What lay ahead stunned Rapunzel. The railing at the head of the T overlooked a large room that began on the floor below them and soared a dozen feet above where they stood. The walls were painted with some kind of pattern that gave them depth, almost made them feel alive. A rock fireplace ran the height of the room. Overstuffed couches and chairs and elegant tables and lamps filled the floor space.
Filled bookcases lined the wall on either side of the fireplace. The wall to the right was mostly made up of six windows that must have been fifteen feet tall altogether.
“Wow,” Fane breathed, keeping his voice to a whisper. “It’s really beautiful, but it’s so . . . normal.”
Rapunzel looked at him. “Should it be different?”
He looked away, as if searching for words. “Well, no, it’s just . . .” He shook his head. “No, it just doesn’t look how I expected. C’mon.” He tugged her hand, and they continued down the hallway, passing the wide, elegantly tapered stairway leading down to the big room. Soon they were enclosed in another hallway, which had rows of doors on each side. Six to the left, and six to the right. Fane led her to the first door and placed his ear against it before twisting the knob and slowly opening the door.
The room was empty. The walls were painted and the floor carpeted, but other than the window there was nothing to break the monotony of the stark whiteness. They soon discovered that all twelve rooms were identical in that way.
“Is that normal, to have empty rooms like that?” Rapunzel asked, indicating the twelve rooms.
“Uh . . . I’m not sure. In a house this size, maybe.” His words were hesitant, and she felt he avoided a straightforward answer.
They exited the last room and rounded a corner in the hallway. Another descending stairway sat in front of them. Fane took her hand and led her toward the stairs. As they began their descent, they heard a voice and froze. The blood drained from Rapunzel’s face, fear trilling along her spine.
“Tell me about it,” a woman’s voice came to them. “But I’m planning the day off tomorrow.” Pause. “Yeah, I know, but how is she going to know I’m not here? The kid has been taking care of herself, making her own food. Why do I need to just sit here all day, every day?” Pause. “She’ll call at 6:00 a.m. as usual, then I’ll go. I can be to Mom’s by eight.” Pause. “No, I just have to forward the phones to my cell so that I can answer when she calls in the evening. I won’t need to worry about being back until Monday.” Pause. “Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll set the alarm.” Pause. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Love you.”
They heard her move around, and her shadow fell across the light at the bottom of the stairs. Rapunzel and Fane darted back up the stairs, Rapunzel’s heart pounding so loudly that she was sure the woman could hear it. Once they were down the hallway and on their way back up the winding staircase, Fane turned to her with humor in his eyes.
“That was close,” he said, laughing. Rapunzel stared at him. How could he be so casual? She felt as if she would choke on the panic suffusing her. When they returned to her rooms, she hurried inside, relief flowing through her.
“I’ll put this back together,” he said, picking up the handle and screwdriver. He stepped outside while Rapunzel took some calming breaths. “Hey, Rapunzel?” Fane called a moment later, confusion lacing his voice.
“Yes?” she answered through the mask she still wore.
“You might wanna see this.”
Reluctantly she moved to where he kneeled in the hallway. She stepped outside the room and peered around the doorway, following his gaze. He fingered a dangling hook-looking mechanism and looked at her with worry.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A latch.”
“A what?”
“A lock.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t figure out why a lock had him worried. They’d known the door was locked.
“It’s on the outside,” he emphasized. She shrugged, unconcerned. “Rapunzel, this lock was put here to lock you in. As in, you couldn’t possibly get out even if you had a key. You could only get out if someone let you out. Why would you need to be locked in?”
Rapunzel’s eyes returned to the lock as her mind processed his words. He was right. Why would she need to be locked in, any more than she already was with the handle? “I don’t know,” she muttered, returning to her room.
“Luckily it was not hooked, or we would never have gotten out of the room.”
Fane quickly reassembled the handle, leaving it unlocked. He came to where she sat at the counter, her mind going over that lock. There was something just so . . . wrong about it. She pulled the mask off, crumpling it beneath her hand.
“That was a blast,” Fane said as he sat next to her, grabbing an apple from the bowl. She stood and moved to the fridge, getting another out, and replacing it. Fane grunted and she looked at him. “Why do you do—” He stopped when he noticed the look on her face. “Are you okay?”