Chapter 5: The Escape
The echo of my own heartbeat is still thrumming in my ears, a wild percussion that drowns out the distant murmur of the party below. I'm sprawled across Chidi's desk, my dress bunched around my waist, my skin damp and tingling where Hugo's seed has cooled on my lower back. The leather is sticky beneath my thighs, and I can feel the imprint of his hands still pressed into my hips.
Hugo's weight is a warm, solid presence behind me, his chest still heaving against my spine. His breath is hot against the nape of my neck, and I can feel his heart hammering through his ribs, a fast and furious rhythm that mirrors my own.
Then the buzz. A harsh, insistent vibration that cuts through the silence like a blade.
Hugo tenses against me, his hand flattening on my back as if to steady me, or perhaps to steady himself. He pulls away, the loss of his warmth immediate and acute, and I hear him fumble for his phone on the floor. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, rougher than I've ever heard it. "Shit."
I turn my head, watching him over my shoulder. He's standing now, his jeans hanging open, his phone glowing in his hand. The light from the screen casts harsh shadows across his face, making the scar above his eyebrow seem deeper, darker. His jaw is tight.
"What is it?" I ask, my own voice coming out thin and breathless.
He doesn't answer right away. He stares at the screen, his thumb hovering over it, and I can see the shifting patterns of a long message. After a moment, he lets out a slow, controlled exhale. "Chidi. He's asking where I am. Says he's been looking for me for the past half hour."
The name of my brother lands like a bucket of cold water. The heat that had pooled low in my belly turns to ice. I push myself up, wincing at the ache between my legs, the raw tenderness that is a testament to what we've just done. I pull my dress down, the fabric clinging to my damp skin.
"He's coming back?" I say, the words a sharp whisper. "Now?"
Hugo looks at me, and there's something in his eyes that I haven't seen before. It's not the usual cocky arrogance, not the taunting heat. It's something quieter, more serious. "He's already on his way. Said he forgot some papers he needs for tomorrow." He shoves the phone into his pocket and steps toward me, his hands finding my shoulders. "We need to get out of here. Now."
My mind is a frantic scramble. The party. The guests. My brother's study. The evidence of what we've done is all over me, all over this room. The smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, thick and unmistakable. Chidi will take one step inside and know. He'll know everything.
"Shit," I echo, my own word feeling foreign on my tongue.
Hugo doesn't waste another second. He pulls his shirt over his head, then tugs me toward the door. "There's a service entrance in the back hall. The staff use it for deliveries. No cameras." He says it with the certainty of someone who has mapped out every exit in this house, and I don't question him.
He opens the door a crack, listening. The hallway beyond is empty, the muffled sound of music and laughter drifting up from the main floor. He grabs my hand, his grip strong and sure, and pulls me out into the corridor.
We move fast, our footsteps muffled on the thick carpet. The house feels like a labyrinth, every dark corner and closed door a potential threat. I can hear the distant clink of glasses, the occasional burst of high-pitched laughter, the low hum of conversation. It's a world away, that party. A world I was supposed to be a part of, playing the role of the good daughter, the perfect sister.
Now I'm a fugitive in my own home, sneaking through the shadows with my brother's best friend, my blood still singing with the aftershocks of what we did.
Hugo leads me down a narrow, service-only corridor that smells of bleach and old wood. At the end of it, there's a heavy steel door. He pushes it open, and the cool night air rushes in, carrying the scent of damp earth and cut grass. He steps aside, gesturing for me to go first.
I step out into the darkness, the gravel crunching beneath my bare feet. My heels are still back in the study, abandoned somewhere on the floor. I don't care. The night is quiet out here, the sounds of the party muted to a distant hum.
Hugo follows me, the door closing behind us with a soft click. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, his breathing still a little uneven, his eyes fixed on me.
I can feel the shift in the air between us. The urgency of our escape is fading, leaving something raw and exposed in its wake. This is no longer about stolen moments in a guest bedroom or a brother's study. This is real. This is happening.
"We have to be careful," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "If anyone saw us..."
"Nobody saw us." He cuts me off, his voice firm. "I made sure of that." He takes a step closer, his hand coming up to cup my face. His thumb traces a slow line across my cheekbone, a gesture that is surprisingly tender. "But you're right. This is getting dangerous."
I lean into his touch, my eyes closing for a moment. I can still feel him inside me, the phantom pulse of him. The secret we carry is heavy, but it's also ours. It's the only thing that's ever been truly mine.
I open my eyes and look at him. "Then what do we do?"
He looks at me for a long moment, his hazel eyes searching mine. The scar above his eyebrow catches the faint light from the distant house. "We lie," he says simply. "We lie to everyone, and we keep this." His thumb brushes across my lower lip, a feather-light touch. "We keep us."
My heart stammers in my chest. There's no jest in his voice, no challenge. Just a quiet, fierce certainty that makes something deep inside me tremble.
I don't answer with words. I just lean forward and press my mouth to his, a kiss that tastes of salt and secrets and the night air. He kisses me back, hard and deep, his hand tangling in my hair. When we break apart, we're both breathless.
"Go back to the party," he says, his voice low. "Keep your head down. Smile. Be the good girl everyone expects you to be."
"And you?" I ask.
He gives me a crooked, dangerous smile. "I'm going to go find Chidi and tell him I was outside getting some air. That I was worried about his little sister." The last words are laced with a dark amusement.
I shake my head, a small, unwilling laugh escaping me. "You're insane."
"No," he says, his eyes holding mine. "I'm just very good at lying."
He steps back, and the distance between us feels enormous. "Tomorrow night," he says. It's not a question.
I nod, my throat too tight for words.
He turns and disappears back into the shadows, melting into the darkness of the house. I stand there for a long moment, the gravel cold beneath my feet, the night air raising goosebumps on my skin.
I have to go back inside. I have to smile at my mother, shake hands with my uncles, pretend I didn't just fall apart on my brother's desk. I have to become Adaeze again.
But I'm not the same Adaeze who snuck into that study looking for a bottle of scotch. That girl is gone, lost somewhere in the heat of Hugo's hands and the rough whisper of his voice. And I'm not sure I want her back.