by Helen Scott
I make a mental note to go through my father’s records and see what deal this man had made with my father. Whatever it was, it must have been something powerful.
His gaze is angry as he gives a sharp nod. “Good. Then you’re just here for the girl.”
Does he really care so little about Alexis? A bitter taste washes over my mouth.
I move onto Mrs. Whithouse. When her pale brown eyes fall on me, her eyes widen and a little gasp slips from her lips. Her gaze moves from my pointed ears, then slowly over my face and down my body like I’m a male dancer at a strip club and she wants nothing more than to stuff some bills in my g-string.
Lifting my hand, I shake her cold one. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
One corner of her mouth quirks into a smile, as if we aren’t at her son’s funeral. “I’m sorry to be forward, but do you have gnome in your bloodline?”
I unclench my teeth. “I do.”
“And do you have the ability to grant wishes?”
Granting wishes is a power that only rare bloodlines retain. “Yes.”
“Well, we should talk later. I may have a--”
“But I don’t. That was my father’s work.”
She bites her lip. “That’s really too bad, but find me if you change your mind. I can really make it worth your while.”
I try not to jerk my hand back, before I’m moving onto the sister.
To my surprise, Alexis lingers beside me. Watching and waiting. I’d have thought she might take this opportunity to run for it. Maybe she had changed more than I thought.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I tell Parsilla Whithouse, a woman I’d only heard spoken about in passing.
Her pale brown eyes, so much like her mother’s, are filled with tears. She uses one hand, covered with short, black leather gloves, to wipe a stray tear that trails down her cheek. Like her mother, her hair is pulled up in a severe bun, and diamonds decorate her throat and ears.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Smith was… one of a kind.”
Alexis moves a little closer to her, lowering her voice. “You remember that time that sexy brunette sauntered up to him and asked him what he thought of her dress?”
A sad smile spreads the young woman’s lips. “He said that she was naturally beautiful, but that the dress was one of the ugliest things he’d ever seen.”
Alexis snorts, which is fucking darling. “The look on her face…”
Now the young woman really seems to smile. “I thought she was going to slap him.” But the smile falters, and her gaze moves to me.
I smile, trying to make her feel more comfortable in my presence. “He sounds like quite the character.”
Alexis sighs softly and crosses her arms over her chest. “He was unlike anyone I’ve met in my life. He was so kind and generous. He laughed easily and loved hard. But he saw the world in black and white, couldn’t lie to save his life, and only understood things he could touch and see with his own eyes.”
The young woman brushes another tear from her cheek. “I’d give up anything to get him back.”
“So would I,” Alexis says, and not for the first time I can hear the pain in her voice.
People crowd near my side, waiting to pay their respects to the sister. “We should go.”
Alexis nods and avoids my gaze as she moves to where the coffin is slowly being covered by dirt. She says nothing to the two men with shovels. Instead, she stares down at the mahogany coffin, then up to the giant picture surrounded by white roses.
I look at the image too. The man in the photo has an unexpected youthfulness to him, like in life he had a permanent smile. His hair is dark brown and surprisingly too long and a mess. His blue tie is askew and his cheeks have deep dimples.
“He looks like a nice guy.”
“He was.” Alexis looks away as she rubs away a tear from her face.
Seeing her crying does something to me. I reach for her, then realize what I’m doing and drop my hands. Most of our debts require money or the possession of something precious. It was strange to think from this day forward we’d own Alexis. What we would do with her… we weren’t sure. We’d talked about it many times but never agreed on a plan.
Hyde thought she should handle anything related to the family business. An unpaid scapegoat when we all left, after the debts had been handled, to watch over the things we wanted to keep, and sell items we didn’t want. Like our own personal free pawn shop worker.
I wanted… I didn’t know what I wanted. But not that.
And yet, we’re only prolonging the inevitable by lingering here. “We need to go.”
Her spine stiffens.
Suddenly, Mr. Whithouse is beside her. “Can I steal you for a second?”
I want to protest. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to go too far from Alexis. If I lost her again, I’d never hear the end of it from my brothers. But Alexis answers first, “yes.”
And unless I want to cause a scene, I have to allow it. Which irritates me.
How many times had we almost caught her? Too many.
They move away from the mourning people, circling a little further from the coffin. I’m about to follow them, when they stop. I calculate the distance between us and decide they’re still close enough that they can’t outrun me. So I circle a little closer, onto the other side of the coffin, and stare down as if paying my respects, my gaze never leaving Alexis.
“Why hello again.”
I jerk. Mrs. Whithouse is near me. Far too fucking close. I must be losing some of my edge, because the prissy woman should never have gotten so close without me sensing her. Or maybe it was because Alexis is here. Distracting me.
“Can we talk?”
I nod.
“Years ago your father made a deal with my husband.”
This can’t be good.
“It took awhile for me to learn what he asked for, but I eventually discovered it. He wanted me to never learn the name of his mistress. In exchange for that, he gave your father a family heirloom from my mother. A jade necklace in the shape of a rose. I would like to have the heirloom back and know the name of his whore.”
“Like I said--”
“You’re out of the business, I heard. But with this deal, I can pay right away.”
I have no desire to do any of my father’s business, but I find myself intrigued. “What’s the deal?”
Her arms fold in front of her chest. “Your choice. You can either have my daughter, to do with what you will--”
“Your daughter?” My voice increases, and I force myself to calm.
I’d thought Alexis’s parents were the most disgusting pieces of shit I’d ever encountered. People gave up many things, but few people were cold-hearted enough to sell their child.
She nods toward the young woman. “Most men would be intrigued by a young, beautiful woman.”
“And what’s the other option?”
“My husband has a rare Ferrari worth over two million dollars.”
Hell, that was tempting. “I’m getting out of the business…”
She shrugs. “I’ll find another gnome then.”
“Wait.” Fuck, if she makes this deal with another gnome, I have no doubt they’ll take the girl over the car. There are few things more precious than a life. “Deal.”
She smiles and shakes my hand. I discover a card in my palm when she pulls it away. “Give me a call, and I’ll arrange everything.”
“Of course.”
As she walks away, I look between Alexis and the young woman. Why the hell had I made the deal? My brothers would be pissed as hell when they found out. Hyde would lose his shit. Zard would wince and tell me I fucked up. But still, I didn’t regret it. A woman like Mrs. Whithouse had the resources to get what she wanted, with or without me.
Suddenly, I see Alexis’s expression change. She seems upset. Her voice lifts. And before I know what I’m doing, I’m coming toward her, my hands curled into fists. I know right now she an
d I are supposed to be enemies. But for some reason, I have the desire to do anything in my power to protect her.
Images flash in my mind of five years ago. Our kiss. The taste of her lips. The sweet scent of her flowery perfume. Those wide eyes of hers staring up at me as she clung to my shirt. And then there was the way my heart raced. The way something inside of me whispered that this woman could be my everything.
And how I’d thrown it all away.
“Everything okay?” I ask, stopping in front of them.
Both Alexis and the man turn to me with wide eyes, but it’s Alexis who speaks. “You bastard!”
I lift a brow. “I’m sorry?”
“Apparently, Smith made a deal with your father. Which is why he killed himself!”
“What?”
Instead of answering, she whirls on her boots and storms away.
I start to go after her and Mr. Whithouse catches my arm. “His debt doesn’t become mine.”
Rage makes my blood boil. I look at him and he jerks back from me. “You, sir, are a shit human being.”
And then I continue after Alexis. Everything inside of me wants to comfort her. But unfortunately, I’m chasing her to catch her. I’m chasing her to fulfill this debt and be one step closer to my freedom.
Even if the one thing missing from my life is the only thing I can’t have. Not after I enslave her.
6
Alexis
I run as long and hard as my legs and lungs can handle. Unfortunately, it's nowhere near far or fast enough to outrun the Stiltskin brothers. My mind is still reeling over what Mr. Whithouse’s urgent whispers had revealed. Smith had made a deal with Rumple.
He was my best friend. He knew how much my mother's deal had hurt me and yet he did the exact same thing. Okay, so not exact since he didn't have a daughter to sell, but the feeling was still the same. What did he want from Rumple? What had he offered Rumple? Mr. Whithouse hadn't known any of the details, or hadn't wanted to tell me. All he wanted was to find out what I knew and to warn me away from Rumple's son.
The man had clearly forgotten how my mother got to where she was.
It is amazing how the sordid details of rich people's lives are so easily forgotten. Part of me wonders if it is Rumple's magic at work. Hard to get more people willing to barter with something precious when the others are disgraced and outcast from society.
A hand lands on my wrist as I run past the gate to the cemetery, nearly causing me to fall on my face. Zard's grip is warm and strong, enough so that when I do tip forward, he lifts me up by my arm, preventing me from kissing concrete. It wouldn't have been the first time but I prefer to avoid it if possible.
"Let me go! You asshole! You and your brothers can go to hell!" I scream loud enough that my throat scratches by the time I'm done. I try to send my magic up his arm, but it's like water on oil. Something's changed since last time, and whatever I put out just washes back into me. This certainly makes me rethink my plans.
"Sweetheart," Zard begins, looking startled by my outburst.
I interrupt him before he gets any further, "Don't 'Sweetheart' me. My best friend killed himself to get away from you and your family. I'm not your sweetheart and never will be unless you can bring Smith back to life."
"We had nothing to do with Smith's death or whatever deal he made was with our father." Zard's voice is hard with anger, the same anger that flashes in his eyes when I look up at him, defiant until the end.
"You're collecting his debts. You're responsible for this." I point at him, stabbing my finger into his chest, trying to ignore the firm muscle under my fingertip.
Crax and Hyde decide to show up at that point, after I had successfully avoided them on my initial escape attempt. I ignore them. Hell, I'd ignore Zard too if I could, but his grip on my wrist is starting to hurt, and I'm sure there will be a bruise there tomorrow. It's not completely his fault though since I'm the one yanking my wrist every so often to try and get out of his grip.
"Does this count as her causing a scene?" Hyde asks, barely even out of breath while I'm still gasping.
"Does being one of Rumple's creations mean that you have no soul?" I sneer at him.
"No, he beat it out of me years ago," Hyde says, his tone unexpectedly vicious.
Tension ratchets up through our small group, and I suspect this isn't something they talk about. Abuse isn't exactly a topic for polite conversation. Polite conversation could suck it, though. It was boring and never revealed anything interesting except people's opinions on the weather.
"You're done making a scene. Yes, Smith made a deal, yes, he killed himself to get out of it evidently, but if you think we're out here collecting debts for shits and giggles then you're out of your damn mind. Get in the fucking car or so help me I will make you and my brothers won't be able to stop me," Hyde growls at me, stepping into my personal space.
"Make me," I snarl back.
Without warning, his hand rips Zard's from my arm and he throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I scream and struggle but no one comes to help. Crax and Zard just look on sadly as though they had expected something like this to happen but had been hoping to avoid it. Yeah, well, me too. Me fucking too.
I pound my fists on Hyde's back and kick my legs until I start connecting with his chest or stomach or whatever. The hand that’s holding me in place slips from the back of my knees to my ankles, pinning them to his torso. His other hand comes up and lands on my ass with a crack of sound splitting the silence. I'm stunned.
He spanked me. Like I was a naughty child or something.
My body betrays me and flushes with heat. I definitely should not be turned on right now. Not right after Smith's funeral. And definitely not by Hyde and his vicious hands. I gulp in air, willing my body to calm down.
"Let me down. Let me go!" I yell into Hyde's back.
"No," he grunts.
I lift my head and look at Crax and Zard. "Make him put me down," I say, trying not to sound desperate.
"We've never been able to control Hyde, you know that," Crax says with a shake of his head while Zard just shrugs and nods toward Crax to indicate agreement.
I let out a noise of frustration and smack at Hyde's back again since I can't move my legs with him pinning them down. It's all I have left to show how utterly pissed off I am. His hand lands on my ass again, leaving a stinging sensation behind. "You're a pig, do you know that?"
"Babe, I've been called so much worse. You'll actually have to put effort in, use those brain cells of yours, and think about it if you want to insult me," Hyde grumbles, his voice rumbling through his body against my own.
Before I can start on another tantrum, because that's definitely what they are making it feel like, Hyde rolls me off his shoulder and shoves me unceremoniously into the back of a car. Zard climbs in after me. I reach for the door handle on the other side of the car, but Crax is already there, making me almost grab his hand instead of the door handle as he slides in on the other side.
Pinned between them, body humming from my strange reaction to Hyde, is not where I want to be. Not in the least. They’re both crowding my space, pressing against me everywhere, all down my thighs, my upper arms, even my calves since they’re both man-spreading. All the contact after months and months of nothing makes me feel like a live wire. Volatile and liable to explode at any moment.
Hyde slides into the driver's seat, which is no surprise since he seems like the type to be uncomfortable with someone else driving, and the car roars to life. He drives like a maniac through the city, treating other cars as though they are obstacles for him to maneuver around instead of other people. Yellow lights are just a suggestion. And stop signs? Well, I don't think the wheels ever actually stopped moving.
We are heading in the opposite direction than I expected though. The rich, pompous-ass side of town is on the west, and we've been going east for a while now. Nothing out here is where I would expect the sons of Rumple Stiltskin to live. I pack my judgy pa
nts away though; maybe I'm misunderstanding something.
The building we stop in front of looks rundown. Paint is peeling on each panel of siding, and the windows look grimey, as though no one has cleaned them in years. I am guessing that the building had been cream at some point, or maybe it was white that had just aged badly, I honestly can't tell which. When the guys get out of the car and wait for me I am honestly surprised. If there wasn't a sign that read 'Stiltskin's' above the door I would have questioned where we were.
"Don't make me come in there and get you," Hyde growls just as I start to move to the door. The defiant side of me wants to stop and plant myself in place, but I don't; instead, I keep moving forward. It's all I have left.
"Keep your pants on," I mumble as I get out.
"Were you thinking about him with his pants off?" Zard asks, suddenly too close with that hypnotic stare of his.
My eyes snap to his and a blush suffuses my cheeks, giving me away. Zard merely winks at me and leans down so his lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, "Your secret's safe with me, Sweetheart."
As swiftly as he invaded my personal space he's gone, and I feel bereft, the warmth of his body and personality leaving me feeling the cold more noticeably. I look at the others and Hyde is unlocking the front door of the shop while Crax is watching me like a hawk, as though he's expecting me to make another break for it.
I won't.
Not now. I know that if I want to escape the clutches of the Stiltskin brothers then I'll need to bide my time and plan. If I just make a break for it, especially in an area of town I'm unfamiliar with but that they probably know like the back of their hand, they'll catch me and, I have no doubt, punish me. Something tells me that Hyde would enjoy that a little too much.
The bell over the door rings, drawing my attention to the fact that Hyde is now in the shop and Zard has followed him. Crax holds his arm out, gesturing for me to go ahead of him. It would be gentlemanly if I didn't know that he was doing it just to stop my escape. I smile a little at the thought of tricking them all and escaping later. Crax grins back, evidently assuming the smile is for him. I don't dissuade him of that notion.
