But it goes in the right direction and meets up with another side path that will take me back to the main one. So I continue. I hear her a few times. And she hears me too. Because she stops, like she’s listening.
I pause for several seconds and let her get ahead, and then, as silently as I can, weave my way through the heavily shadowed corridors until I’m back on the main path that takes you to the center. Thomas spared no expense building this place and rehabbing the cathedral. And I wonder why? Why spend all that money just to relive what we left behind? I’ve spent the past fifteen years trying to forget that place. Don’t get me wrong, I remember the important parts. The drugs. The doctors. The manipulation. The end.
But the maze? And the cathedral? No. That’s not shit I need to keep.
“I know you’re here,” Detective Masters says from a hedge or two away.
“Come find me,” I whisper back.
Her feet whirl on the stone path and she’s closer than I first thought. Sneaky thing, isn’t she?
“I remember you.”
“Yeah?” I ask, easing into another alcove. She’s gonna pass by me if she goes towards the center of the maze, so all I have to do is stay put now.
“It was raining.”
“It was snowing, gun girl.”
“And you crashed a bike in front of me.”
“I pushed you out a window.”
“What?” she asks. I walk forward a little, and then slip across the stone path and into another corridor where I make a turn that will bring me back towards her, but on another side of the hedge. “You drugged me.”
“You drugged yourself that night. I was just the supplier.”
She’s silent. And then, “I was with you last weekend, wasn’t I?”
“I thought you remembered?” I can hear her breathing, that’s how close she is. I can see bits and pieces of her cream-colored gown through small breaks in the hedge. “What do you think I did?”
“Took me home—”
“I sent you away, remember?”
She hesitates. So she doesn’t remember all of it.
“I didn’t have a party last Saturday.”
“You sound unsure. Like parties are your thing. Are you a party girl, Molly?”
She starts walking without answering.
“That’s the wrong way.”
“Why should I believe you?” She’s breathing hard now, like she’s scared. And she should be. Because she’s alone out here with me. She’s the last person on earth who should be alone with me.
“Because I have the maze memorized. I designed it. Many, many years ago.”
“Liar,” she whispers.
“Keep walking then,” I say, following her on the other side of the hedge. “You’ll come to a fork—”
“A fork in the road. You went left and he went right.”
“You ran one way and I ran the other.”
“There was a dirt road. And you were driving my brother’s truck.”
“You got a nice new brother out of that deal, eh? I should’ve never trusted him.”
“I don’t know what that even means, but…” She lets out a long sigh.
“Found the fork, did you?”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m here for you. Why else would I bother to show my face?”
She stays silent for a few moments, and then I hear laughter from the start of the maze as more people enter. I wonder if she’ll scream?
I decide no when she stands her ground. She wants to talk. Wants answers. And she wants to follow my lead. She might not realize it yet, but she wants me to take over. Be alpha again. “Go left at the fork,” I say.
“Just like I did last weekend.”
“Just like that, gun girl.”
There’s a long silence after that, and then she draws in a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “Bike boy,” she whispers.
“The one and only. Now do as I say and then we can talk.”
“What if I don’t want to talk? What if I want to arrest you for rape?”
“Rape?” I laugh. “Come on.”
“I woke up wearing lingerie.”
“What’s so bad about that?” I say, walking towards her voice. I have to go the other way to get to the middle, but I don’t think she’s ready to see me yet, so I stay close, but not too close.
“Girls don’t wear shit like that to bed when they’re sleeping alone.”
“Some girls do.”
“Not this girl. And this girl doesn’t drink.”
“Doesn’t drink anymore?”
“Right.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “But that lingerie was pretty. And you looked pretty wearing it.”
“You took my clothes off,” she growls.
“You were very muddy and wet. I needed to clean you up. So why not make you look pretty after?”
“You fucking pervert.” She’s breathing harder now and I start to get a little worried.
“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re worried about. You were stoned, man.”
“You’re the one who got me stoned.”
“I had to.”