Ivory White : A House of Misfits Standalone

by Cambria Hebert

  “She’s also annoying.”

  My mouth turned up slightly. “I know that too.”

  The thump of things falling nearby had me pushing Izzie away and spinning. Ivory stood there staring, all the items she’d picked up in a heap at her feet. Hurt glistened in her blue eyes, and teeth bit into her rose-red lip.

  She heard Izzie insult her.

  She heard me agree.

  For a split second, our eyes connected, and it was as if she silently asked why. Why I would agree, and what had she done so horribly to deserve this hurt?

  Suddenly, I was assaulted by what felt like a hundred flashbacks of her cowering beneath the hood in the bar. Of her standing in the rain, frightened and automatically seeking my shelter. I remembered how light she’d been when I carried her home and how last night, I’d held her hand so she could sleep. All those moments were punctuated by the memory from just moments ago and how vulnerable she looked on the laundromat floor.

  “Thank you, but I don’t think I’ll be needing any of these items today.” Her voice was calm and austere, matching her posture but not her eyes.

  Maybe that’s why she closed them briefly before stepping over the mess and escaping onto the street.

  25

  Ivory

  * * *

  Hurt, derisive looks, and whispering behind my back. I wasn’t a stranger to any of those things. In fact, I was a victim just like everyone else. Money and power didn’t give you a free pass from insults.

  Sometimes it made you more of a target.

  So did beauty and success.

  I never minded. I knew in life you had to take the good with the bad.

  Go on strongly despite the fear. My mother used to tell me this, and I told myself this now as I walked numbly down the sidewalk as wild cabbies whizzed past.

  Fear could mean many things. Basically, it meant anything that could hold you back. Hurt was one of those things.

  My mother’s words had gotten me through most of my life, and I managed to somehow dodge the barbs trying to rip me open.

  But this hurt.

  His casual agreement with judgment from a stranger stung deep. Sure, we hadn’t known each other long at all, but truthfully, I felt like he knew enough to not think those things about me.

  High-maintenance. Annoying. Noisy.

  Fine. Maybe I was high-maintenance, but when did I ever ask him to maintain me? I didn’t! I could maintain myself. I’d been doing it for a long time.

  I tried not to be annoying or noisy. I even tried to say good-bye before, and he dragged me into that shop! For what? To insult me? To let other people insult me?

  I’ve had way worse. So why does this hurt so bad? Why do I care so much what he thinks of me? And why is that woman in his arms like that? Is that his girlfriend?

  Pressing a hand against my aching chest, I thought I heard a dim yell from behind. I didn’t turn back. It was time I went home. Back to my world where I knew how to handle my life and the people in it. Whoever tried to kill me was probably long gone, and even if he wasn’t, I would hire enough bodyguards he wouldn’t be able to get close again.

  The sun was gone now, disappeared behind buildings and put away for the night. The sky was starless, not because of the city lights, but because it was still heavy with clouds. Anxiety sank its sharp claws in as I walked, beleaguered with thoughts of rain and flashes of just twenty-four hours ago when I’d been walking alone down this same dark street.

  Now that the first rush of hurt and anger was passing, fear and anxiety invited themselves in. What if that huntsman was still out there? What if he found me while I was on my way home?

  Tugging the hat lower on my head, I shrank into the leather jacket. My clothes were still wet, the night wind cutting through the fabric like a sharp knife through butter. When I got to the next street over, I’d hail a cab. The doorman at my building would pay when I got there, and then I could pay him back.

  Just one more block and you’ll be safe.

  Instead of reassurance, a new wave of anxiousness crashed over me. The back of my neck prickled with warning, and chills rose along my arms like an army of spiders with thousands of curious legs.

  The urge to itch and fidget in my clothes was nearly unbearable, and up ahead, a streetlight exploded with a loud pop. I crouched low, my knees hovering over the cold concrete as my hands protectively caged my head.

  The sound of glass splattering ground made me think of bones breaking, and darkness descended with ominous resolve. Still crouching, I waited for more sounds to erupt, for pounding footsteps or even his menacing voice growling that he’d found me at last.

  Nothing came.

  Cautiously lowering my arms, I found nothing out of the ordinary except a broken light.

  Stuff like this probably happened a lot. The buildings were super old, so the streetlamps probably were too. They really should get some funding to revitalize this neighborhood.

  Straightening, I started ahead, still feeling the uneven pounding of my heart against my ribs.

  “Princess!”

  A voice that seemed ingrained in me echoed behind me, stalling my feet.

  “Wait!”

  I couldn’t talk myself out of looking back.

  Neo was down the sidewalk, barely visible in the fading light but visible enough for me to know it was him. He rushed forward, his form becoming bigger the closer he got.

  I didn’t want to talk to him. In fact, just seeing him made me ache all the more. Turning my back, I rushed away, hoping he would get the hint.

  He yelled my name again.

  And he said I was annoying.

  I started to run, ignoring the uncomfortable squishing of my shoes and slapping of the wet tails of the flannel against my thighs. The ground underfoot turned uneven, making my feet wobble.

  The broken glass from the light scraped and moved under my sneakers as I rushed, making me stumble, but not enough that I slowed in pace. The shards scattered as I ran, focusing on the corner up ahead, telling myself that I was almost there.

  Unpredictably, I pitched to the side. No. I was grabbed.

  Shock made it hard to think, as did the violent way I was snatched from the sidewalk, suddenly flying over the ground to be swallowed by the shadows.

  When my brain finally caught up, I opened my lips to scream, but something hard and unrelenting slapped over my mouth forcing back any sound I would have made.

  Eyes wide, arms flailing, I tried to escape, but there was no escaping the shadows. I was being captured by something much larger than myself.

  I heard nothing over the pounding of my heart, saw nothing but the darkness and the narrow alley I’d been snatched into.

  The hand around my mouth was so tight my jaw ached from the pressure, and when my foot connected with a part of the kidnapper’s body, there was a grunt and the pressure on my jaw grew impossibly rougher.

  “I told you if I saw you again, I wouldn’t let you go.”

  My entire body stopped fighting, realization slamming into me, followed closely by fear.

  The huntsman. He was still here. Watching. Waiting. Intent on killing.

  Why even let me go at all if this would be the result? The prolonged suffering and confusion were cruel. Instead of dying in the park in the middle of the city, would I instead die here in a dirty, dark alley?

  “Ivory!” The frantic way my name was called surged life into my limp form.

  Stiffening, I lifted my head, yelling out to Neo even though the attempt was blocked.

  “Ivory White!”

  Neo! I’m here. Please find me. Please don’t let me die…

  Grunting, the huntsman slid through a door I hadn’t even seen, my arm scraping on the rusty metal frame. I yelled, but the sound remained muffled like all the ones before.

  His boots echoed against the concrete at first but then turned silent, almost eerily so. How a man so large could move like a ghost was a mystery. He held me with my back against his front, lift
ing me so I couldn’t see his face. Attempting to twist around only earned my jaw more pain, and his fingers to bit into the side of my hip.

  This place was like a dungeon with stale air, trash-littered surfaces, and crumbling brick walls.

  “Ivory!” Neo roared, his voice surprisingly close.

  Did he know about this place too? Had he found the secret door?

  The huntsman stiffened, the first time he’d ever shown any kind of reaction at all. Desperately prying my jaw open, I bit down on his covered hand, sinking my teeth into any meaty part I could.

  Breath hissed beside my ear, but his palm didn’t move at all.

  The fingers on my hip tightened, and I knew I’d have a bruise. Despite my watering eyes and desire to shrink away from the pain, I resisted.

  And then I was being stuffed into a small space that no human should ever fit in. The huntsman went in first, dragging me along with him, our arms scraping and struggling to fit.

  Not only was I caged inside some tiny cubby, but I was farther trapped by this man’s body, situated between his legs and arms. He gripped me like a vise.

  As he kept his one hand locked over my mouth, I felt my nostrils flare, struggling to breathe.

  Thinking fast, I began stomping my foot, hoping Neo might hear.

  The man squeezed me tighter into his form, his chilling voice brushing threateningly against my ear. “If he finds us, I’ll kill him too.”

  All fight left me, and my shoulders slumped. Fat tears welled up and spilled over my cheeks, dripping onto the glove covering most of my face.

  “I told you to run. I told you to never come back.”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t, and really, was I even supposed to?

  Sounds of Neo moving around in the dreary space nearby made me tense.

  “Princess, just answer me.”

  My body stiffened, and more tears fell. I wanted to answer, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. The man crowding around me would kill us both.

  Neo might have hurt me, but I would never want him to die.

  I could hear his shuffling feet and low swears as he searched a bit more. It seemed like forever when he muttered, “Fuck,” and his footsteps faded away.

  Overwhelming emotion caused pain in my chest, a rock in my throat, and quaking in my hands. We sat there long after he was gone until I grew lightheaded from lack of oxygen and too much fear.

  Abruptly, the hand left my face, and I sucked in great gasps of air, trying to replenish my lungs. I ended up coughing spastically as dust and stale air filled my throat.

  The hand clapped back over my face, and his gravelly voice filled my ear. “No noise.”

  I nodded, hoping he would let go, and he did. The shove he gave me was not gentle, but the space was too tight for me to fall.

  “Go. Don’t try anything stupid.”

  I crawled out of the cubby, grit and grime clinging to me with my every move. There were no windows and no light. My eyes could only make out large square pillars stretching from floor to ceiling, trash-littered floors, and bare walls.

  The second I was free from the cubby, I pushed off from the floor and started to run. My legs felt like Jell-O. He said not to run, but I ran anyway.

  Why should I listen to him?

  This was my last chance at escape, my last chance to save my own life.

  With a final burst of adrenaline, I lunged forward, stumbling into a cement pillar and sagging against it. Shoving away, I rushed forward, desperately trying to locate the door that seemed to have disappeared.

  The ends of my hair swirled as I spun, and heavy footfalls angrily approached. I tried to evade. I failed.

  In a moment of déjà vu, I was slammed into the hard wall, my cheek scraping and making me cry out.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please let me go.”

  I’d only heard the blade of a knife cut through air once before. Once was more than enough to ensure I would never forget, so tonight when he lifted his blade, I recognized the sound without having to see it glimmer.

  He palmed my head like it was something insignificant, forcing it back to bare my throat.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll already be dead when I cut out your heart.” His words were so chilling, so matter-of-fact, I wondered if I’d imagined them or if he really had spoken.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, feeling death was horrific enough. I wasn’t about to watch it too.

  The blade was swift, so sharp it whistled through the air. I flinched and cried out, then fell to the ground.

  Curling in on myself, I gasped and heaved for air, anticipating the warm ooze of my life’s blood to bloom out.

  It never came, but the sounds of a scuffle did. The sounds of grunting and running feet.

  Pushing up, I peered through the dark as something large and fast materialized, coming right at me.

  A blood-curdling scream ripped out, scraping everything inside me on its way past my lips. Desperate to get away, I tried to run, but my knees were weak and I couldn’t stand.

  A large body dropped beside me, and I shrieked, curling into a ball, trying to become so small I couldn’t be seen.

  I really didn’t want to die, but honestly, why was it taking so long to get this murder over with?

  “I got you.” He promised, and warm hands slid under me, lifting as if I weighed nothing at all.

  I looked up as Neo pulled me into his lap, cradling me there like it was the safest place I’d been.

  “N-Neo?” my voice was raspy, throat hurt, and I didn’t even trust my own eyes to tell me he was real.

  “It’s me.”

  My entire body went limp, relief making me cry. Aching fingers curled into the edge of the unbuttoned flannel he wore, holding on for dear life.

  Murmuring soothing sounds, he stroked his palm over my hair and brushed away my tears. I breathed in, drawing comfort from his scent.

  “I know, sweetheart,” he crooned. “I got you now.”

  I tried to remember a time when I’d felt so safe, but a specific moment was impossible to recall. I could only think of a person. My father. He’d always made me feel safe.

  But then he died and left me all alone.

  “Please don’t leave me too,” I whispered, curling even closer into his lap.

  His body wrapped around mine, and unlike before when I’d felt trapped with the huntsman this close, with Neo, it was entirely different.

  “I won’t.” He vowed. “I’ll never let you go again.”

  26

  Neo

  * * *

  “I thought you’d left.”

  Her voice was hoarse. The sound of it welcome but the strain a stark reality check of how close she came to dying. Again.

  Funny how knowing about the first attempted murder didn’t affect me the same as the second. Perhaps because I hadn’t witnessed it or I’d doubted it even happened at all.

  Perhaps because now her death felt like it would be my loss.

  I thought I’d ached when she walked out of the shop. I thought I’d ached when I called her name and she kept running.

  Those things were nothing compared to how my heart literally stopped when I saw her snatched into the shadows.

  One moment she’d been there, the next out of sight.

  Tendrils of panic still clung to me like wild vines trying to tug me beneath the earth. Even now with her safely ensconced in my arms, dread tapped me like a jagged, too-long talon, ready to draw blood.

  “Neo?”

  Her voice against my chest broke through the clinging chaos.

  “I pretended to leave,” I explained. “I was waiting for him to come out.”

  “How did you know we were still here?”

  “There was nowhere else for you to go.”

  “I tried to get away. I couldn’t find the door.” She drew in a sobbing breath.

  I’d seen. I’d watched it all. With a thundering heart and a violent urge to pounce, I’d watched this gentle princess claw and fight to
live. “You did so well, sweetheart.”

  “If you hadn’t been here, I’d be dead.” Her voice was flat, almost accepting of her fate.

  Fate has better plans for you.

  “C’mon, we need to get out of here,” I said, standing up, bringing her with me.

  Her hands clutched my arms, head tipped back to stare up with wide eyes. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “He’d be stupid to.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “No. He had his back turned to me the entire time and a hat and a hoodie over his head. I rammed into him from the side. He kicked me in the ribs and then took off.”

  She gasped, pulling back to hover her hands over my midsection. “You’re hurt!”

  “I’m not.”

  “Let me see!” she demanded, pulling up the hem of my T-shirt.

  I had half a mind to let her undress me, but now really wasn’t the time. “It’s dark. You won’t be able to see anything.”

  She made a face, and I tucked my arm around her, leading her toward the door.

  “I didn’t see him either, but I know it was the same man as before,” she said, allowing me to guide her.

  Keeping her body tucked behind mine, I stepped out into the alley first, scanning to make sure it was clear. Finding it empty, I wrapped my hand around hers and tugged.

  Halfway toward the street, I stopped, bending to scoop up a white bag I’d dropped.

  “What is that?” she asked, curious. Her voice was still raw and painful-sounding, and I didn’t like it.

  “Your clothes.” The words came out harsher than I intended.

  “My clothes?”

  “The ones you threw on the floor in the shop before storming off in a fit.”

  She gasped so hard she winced and yanked her hand free of mine. “I did not storm off in a fit.”

  When she wobbled on her feet, I automatically reached for her.

  She evaded. “Do not touch me.”

  “Two minutes ago, you were wrapped in my arms.” I reminded her.

  Her face soured. “I was upset.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not upset now?”