“Princess!” he exclaimed, flinging open the door and throwing his arms around me.
I laughed, his wild, floppy hair tickling my face as he hugged me tight. “We thought we would never see you again!”
“Oh, I thought we were friends,” I admonished.
“Well, you’re a rich, fancy, important woman. Why would you want to be friends with us?” Fletch asked, leading me into the familiar apartment.
I hadn’t spent a ton of time there, but it was enough that I felt a wash of homesickness, momentarily leaving me unable to speak.
Fletch noticed my silence and perhaps the look on my face as I stood in the center of the room, taking in all of Neo’s art splashed on the walls, the familiar glow of Beau’s monitors, and the deep sound of Snort’s breathing.
“Is everything okay?” He worried, putting a hand on my arm.
Somewhere close by, the sound of a chair rolling filled the room, and then Beau was standing before me too.
Blinking back unexpected tears, I took in the two men and smiled. “Oh, no. I just missed you.”
Sharing a look between them, they suddenly rushed me, and the three of us were squished together in some kind of three-way hug.
“It’s a princess sandwich!” Fletch declared.
I laughed, feeling lightness fill me. I really had missed them so much. My apartment was so quiet, quiet in a way I never noticed before.
Once they let me go, I lowered to pet Snort who was drooling heavily on my Louboutins
“Did you come to see Neo?” The question earned Fletch a smack from Beau. “Ow,” he whined, rubbing the back of his head.
“Be nice,” I admonished. “Actually, no. I came to see you. I wanted to thank you for everything.”
“We didn’t do anything,” Beau said, scratching his head underneath the beanie perched on his red hair.
“Of course you did!” I exclaimed. “You were my friends when I needed them. You let me stay here and made me feel safe.” Reaching into the black bag, I pulled out an envelope and handed it to Beau.
Curiously, he took it, peeking inside. A choked sound ripped from his throat, and he looked up, green eyes wide.
“Just paying back the money you let me borrow. Plus interest, of course.”
“What about me? What about me?” Fletch asked, bouncing from foot to foot.
Beau raised his hand to smack him again, but I made a tsking sound and his hand lowered.
Pulling out a small card, I extended it to Fletch. He took it, frowning. “Ivory White,” he read, then looked up. “Is this your business card?”
I nodded. “Yes. I really meant it when I said you are the most talented violinist I’ve ever heard. I would love to work with you.”
“But you aren’t a musician or a producer,” he said, wrinkling his nose.
“No, but I still have some ideas.”
He slid the card into the back pocket of his jeans. “Thank you.”
The disappointment in his voice could not be disguised, and it made me laugh. Reaching into my bag again, I pulled out something else.
Fletcher’s eyes lit up when I passed the brightly colored item into his hands.
“This is for me!” he said, far more excited over a simple mug than an offer for a job.
Laughing, I nodded.
“Look, Beau!” he said, holding out the two-toned mug. It was covered in different Marvel comic strips, and across the front in large yellow font, it read: I Have Issues. The inside of the mug was bright red.
Beau laughed.
“Now you have your own mug that fits you,” I said, feeling warmed by his delighted response.
I rocked on my heels when he rushed me but didn’t fall because Beau steadied me with a hand to my back. Fletcher hugged me tight, and I could have sworn I heard a few light sniffles near my ear.
“Thank you, princess. I love it!”
“You’re welcome.” I beamed. It wasn’t an expensive gift. It wasn’t designer, but it made him so incredibly happy.
Another wave of homesickness washed over me and, with it, unmistakable sadness. I never knew my life had been lacking certain things until I left it behind and came here. Now I was supposed to let it go? I was supposed to go back to my wonderful but somehow lonely existence?
Tears rushed to the corners of my eyes, and I blinked, trying my hardest to keep them hidden. “Well,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call me.”
Fletcher nodded, eyes round and wide as he clutched the mug into his chest. “Are you okay?”
Frowning, Beau took a small step closer.
Smiling, I stepped back toward the door. “You need to dust again. It’s already starting to gather.”
They were quiet when I went to the door, but then I remembered.
Inhaling a deep breath, I gathered my courage and turned back. Reaching into the bag one last time, my fingers clutched the fabric I’d stuffed inside. Just touching it, knowing what I was about to give up, made me want to weep, and a familiar tingle of panic swelled in my gut.
Both men’s eyes went to the red and green flannel shirts as soon as I tugged them free. We all stood there a moment, thick silence filling the room while I clutched the clothing, willing myself to give them up.
Clearing my throat, I draped the shirts over the back of the couch. “Would you please make sure Neo gets these?”
“Uhh…” Fletch stuttered as if he, too, didn’t know what to say.
Beau stepped in, saving the entire situation. “Sure thing. I’ll make sure he gets them.”
His voice was calm and clear, an anchor in the sea in which I was drowning. Gripping that anchor, I smiled, released the shirts, and stepped back.
Awkward silence descended again, so I went to the door, pulling it open. “Thank you again.”
Just moments ago, I’d been homesick and wrought with anxiety about leaving, and now I was rushing down the stairs, past the bar, and out onto the sidewalk. The only thought in my head was to leave.
The moment I appeared, my bodyguard approached, guiding me to the waiting SUV and ushering me inside.
“Miss?” my driver said, glancing in the rearview to where I sat.
Summoning a smile I didn’t feel, I answered, “Back to the Upper East Side, please.”
The car drifted away from the curb, slowly going down the street, leaving behind a place I was going to miss and passing by a man standing at the end of the block, clad in all black and lurking in the shadows.
I was so busy trying to calm my tender heart that I didn’t feel him watching as the SUV drove away.
56
Huntsman
* * *
The people who hired me were no-conscience scumbags, but even they knew better than to cross a killer.
Remember when I said that?
Apparently, there was an exception to this.
That exception stepped inside my place of business dressed in a black velvet cloak tied together by a black satin ribbon just below their chin. Even though the hood was lifted and the fabric draped in a concealing fashion nearly to the ground, I still knew who she was upon first sight.
Shock rippled through me first because this was something that never happened. My identity was a closely guarded secret, a well-kept mystery. No one knew who I really was despite the many attempts to find out.
No one had ever come looking for me. No one had ever dared.
So to see this person now, standing there staring from beneath the shadow of the velvet covering, arrogant superiority radiating off her like a thick, sickening perfume, was definitely surprising in a world where I was never surprised.
I wouldn’t ask how they found me. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction or even the knowledge that I didn’t know. If this person located me, I would act as if it were because I allowed it. I would never show weakness, not ever.
“Coming here is an ill-advised move,
” was all I said, my voice low and deep.
“Taking money for a job you were paid for and not doing it is imprudent.”
“Do you think your classy words make you less trashy?”
“Do you think crossing the most powerful woman in this city makes you smart?”
Coming out from around the counter, I stepped toward the woman, burrowing my eyes into the shadows of the cape, not showing an ounce of the satisfaction I felt when she wavered on her heels.
“If you were the most powerful woman in this city, Ivory would already be dead,” I taunted.
Her intake of breath was so sharp and deep the fabric fell back, revealing her face. White-blond hair could be seen at the top of her forehead, all of it swept back under the concealment.
Her skin was flawless but made up, the foundation she wore lighter than her actual skin tone as if she were trying to appear purer than she actually was.
Her eyes were blue but nothing like those of her stepdaughter, and her cheekbones slanted harshly, giving her a sharp appearance.
“How dare you?” she hissed, voice cold.
“What are you doing here, Audra White? Why would you darken my door?”
Alarm flashed over her face when I spoke her name loud and clear. Only after quickly ducking back under the concealment of the cape did she speak.
“Your door is already black. I paid you for a job, a job you failed to do. I want it completed.”
“No.”
She cackled. “No?”
“No.”
“You are in no position to refuse. I could have you locked up for the rest of your life in a cell like the animal that you are.”
Unfazed, I raised a brow. “And how will you do that, tell the authorities that you hired me to kill your stepdaughter?” As I spoke, I stepped closer and closer until I could bend down and peer into the hood.
She was a mean woman… but I was far meaner.
She knew it. She saw it in my stare, felt it in the air.
“Go ahead and try me,” I whispered sinisterly. “You’ll find out just how good at my job I am when I want to be.”
“Did she pay you? Did she offer you more than I did to spare her life?”
“No.”
“Her charm. Her beauty,” She muttered, pulling her gaze away from my intense one. “I shouldn’t have underestimated it. It casts a spell over everyone, including her father. Gah.” She choked as my hand filled with the black velvet, yanking so hard she was no longer on her feet.
“Don’t ever come here again. Don’t ever contact me. Don’t breathe a word of any of this… to anyone. If you do, I’ll kill you.”
Eyes practically popping from her skull, skin turning as white as her fake makeup, she gasped. “Did she… pay you to kill… me?”
“I would kill you for free.” I snarled, releasing the hold on her garment and watching her fall to the floor.
Beneath the velvet, she panted and scrambled, standing up like she hadn’t been knocked down at all. “How dare you threaten me this way? You know who I am.”
“Yes. And as I already said, if you were as powerful as you think, she would already be dead.”
The atmosphere in the room turned dim and sinister as if the extreme change in her demeanor could affect the very air.
Eyes flashing, lips pursing, her spine straightened and fingers that showed her age reached out to point at me. “You’re right. Years ago, I was much smarter. If you want something done, it’s always best to just do it yourself.”
My eyes narrowed. A chill crept up my spine.
“Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours,” she intoned, the cloak spinning around her legs like slithering, loyal snakes before billowing out into a black cloud escorting her out the door.
I stood there a long time, thinking of how this happened and of how many rules I broke. Never once did this job ever bother me. Never once did the conscience I thought I didn’t have rear its ugly head.
I was bothered now.
Closing myself in my small office in the back, I glared at the white paper bag sitting on my desk. Angry, I overturned the contents, staring down.
Picking up the white fabric, I unfolded and held it up. It was a small onesie made for a dog. On the back was a drawing of a mirror and the words, The most beautiful reflection in the mirror is yours.
I dropped the shirt as though I’d been burned, my stomach twisting with disgust.
It landed on a small black box I hadn’t noticed at first. Taped on the lid was a folded piece of paper, and I snatched it up, nearly ripping it in half while unfolding it.
Earth,
Please don’t be mad, but I wanted to give you something.
X0 ~ Ivory
Ripping open the lid of the small box, I stared down at a glistening bright-red apple charm attached to a long silver chain.
Everything on the desk rattled and fell over when my fist slammed into the wood. Grabbing the necklace, I wrenched open the door and stalked back out into the bar.
Chest heaving, I stood in the center, not knowing what to do with the sudden overwhelming emotion pummeling me from every angle. Everything was so fucked up. How could I let things get this far?
My eyes fell onto the giant sign hanging behind the bar. My bar.
Rotten Apple: Poisoning Guaranteed.
My hand was shaking when I glanced down to the apple charm clenched tightly in my fist.
Yes. Poisoning guaranteed. But the poison wasn’t the beer.
It was me.
57
Ivory
* * *
I rescheduled my late-afternoon meeting because I was too drained to attend. I’d give myself the rest of the day to regroup, and then tomorrow I would return to normalcy. Whatever that was.
Ensconced in my penthouse, towering above the city, I poured a glass of red wine and sipped at it slowly while staring over the view.
Funny how everything was exactly the same, but it all looked so different.
Sighing, I set aside the glass and went to my walk-in to change out of the black dress hugging my body. It felt suffocating and uncomfortable, and I wanted it off. Once it was removed, I stood in fresh undergarments, pondering my choices.
Going for comfort, I selected a pair of yellow satin trousers with white piping on the outer seams and around the round pockets. The loose material floated over my body, whispering softly against my skin when I moved. Next, I pulled out an oversized pale-blue shirt. It was an updated, more casual version of a dress shirt. The material was all cotton, and I left the few top buttons undone so I had room to breathe. Since the shirt was oversized and long, I tied it at the waist, knotting it into a bow.
Removing the satin bow from my hair, I finger-combed through the loose curls and exited my room barefoot. The sudden chime of the doorbell changed the direction I was headed, a surge of adrenaline spiking through my veins without warning.
Neo.
Had he gone home to find I’d been there, that I returned his shirts? Was he upset he missed me…? Did he miss me?
I missed him.
No, it hadn’t been that long. But still, I missed him.
Grabbing the door, I pulled it open, hope making it impossible to breathe.
Disappointment shattered that hope, my whole body sagging. The person standing there was not Neo. In fact, it was someone I really wasn’t prepared to see.
“Ivory, dear? Is everything all right?” My stepmother fretted, the cape she wore moving around her feet as she stepped closer.
The security behind her also stepped forward, concern written on their features.
There was a brief but noticeable pause during the time it took me to swallow and pull myself free of the crushed hope. Maybe he doesn’t miss you at all.
But then I spoke. “Oh! Audra! Of course, everything is just fine. I was just surprised to see you there. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Do forgive me for not calling first. But I don’t think a mother needs an appoi
ntment to see her daughter. Especially after everything she’s been through!”
A mother?
“And I just felt so remorseful that I wasn’t able to come sooner. The shock of your disappearance, your attempted murder, and then reappearance… Well, I just could barely process it all.”
Imagine how I must feel. “Of course, it’s been a difficult time.” I empathized. “Please come in.”
Holding the door wider, I stepped back, allowing her to glide in. Her pale hair was pinned away from her face in a style she often favored. Audra was a very beautiful woman. Classic beauty radiated around her, and usually, wherever we went, she was the most beautiful in the room.
Despite her age, she looked young, and beyond that, she always acted as if she were in her prime.
“I brought this basket of treats,” she said, gesturing to a huge wicker basket piled high with fruit. “I’m sure you could use the nutrients.”
“So kind of you.” I thanked her, gesturing for us to move into the open kitchen.
Placing the basket on the counter, Audra untied the satin holding the cape around her.
“Would you like some tea?” I asked.
“That would be lovely.” She agreed, draping the velvet over one of the stools.
She was dressed in a long pencil skirt in a classic houndstooth pattern. It hugged her slim hips impeccably and was paired with a long-sleeved deep-burgundy sweater with pleating at the shoulders to give it a very tailored feel. The sweater itself also hugged her body and was tucked into the waistband of the skirt to show off her trim waist.
“Please tell me how you’re doing, dear. You look positively exhausted,” she implored, perching onto a stool with perfectly straight posture.
Before, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about the remark. I mean, I was exhausted, and she did seem concerned. But now I was suspicious. The rumors Marco shared ran rampant through my thoughts.
“It’s been a long several days,” I said, pulling out teacups, saucers, and a wooden box filled with a selection of teas. “The police questioned me several times.”
Ivory White : A House of Misfits Standalone Page 28
