by J. Kearston
“When he lost nearly all of their money, his company almost went belly up. He brought it back from the brink of bankruptcy, but it was never clear where he received the funds to salvage it.
“Since then, he’s made a point to try and find something to destroy my name and business. His latest tactic of using his niece as an investor in the upscale restaurant you and Atlas just finished being one of the most recent examples. He tries to find ways to weasel his way in so he can find anything he can sabotage or exploit.”
I take the highlighter he offers me and tap it against my chin as a thought hits me. “You think it was his niece that took one for the team with Nick so that he could attack Dorian’s shop?”
His eyes widen a fraction and he frowns. “But why?”
I shrug. “He’s the only weakness Victor could find? You aren’t close to anyone except him and Atlas, so if he couldn’t get to you directly, maybe he got tired of waiting and wanted to feel like he finally managed a win.”
The air around Lucien practically drops and a chill works down my spine. He looks positively murderous, and I get my first real glimpse of the man Dorian and Atlas spoke of. It speaks volumes about how little I care about my life, because instead of being afraid like any sane person, it just makes me that much more turned on than I already am.
“I’ll have someone look into her,” he dismisses and it’s clear the conversation is closed.
We sit there for hours, pouring over every paper as we hunt for each stray penny. I start doodling in the corners, trying to curb that instinctual need to cause some sort of trouble that’s simmering in my veins. It’s like an actual compulsion, one that has me jittery and restless.
As if he can read my thoughts, Lucien withdraws a pair of earbuds from his desk drawer and passes them over. I thank him, pulling up a playlist on my phone and returning to the most boring work on the planet.
It’s far easier to concentrate now and I find myself breathing easier. As much as the work is dull, it was the quiet that was really getting to me. I don’t do well with silence ever since my mother started locking me in that room.
Completely white, not a speck of dirt to be found, with a door that only opened from the outside. The silence was so absolute that even my heartbeat sounded like thunder. My ears constantly ached, straining for so much as a stray word from a guard outside. As much as her cruel words cut me, it’s still better than being left in that room, alone and forgotten.
I tap my foot crossed over my knee, the restless feeling dissipating from my nerve endings, allowing me to function and work easier. Despite the monotony of it, I’m able to settle into a better rhythm, each swipe of my highlighter falling in time with the bass. I make much quicker progress and before I know it, I’m setting the last page on Lucien’s desk.
Looking up to find him staring at me, I remove one of my earbuds so that I can hear him. “Yes?”
He blinks, shaking his head. “Nothing, you just continue to intrigue me, little f-,” he catches himself, almost slipping, “female roommate,” he finishes lamely.
Smiling, I hold out my hand for the next stack. “Let’s get this knocked out of the way, shall we? Dorian still owes us a family dinner after all and we should make him pay up before we leave.”
Chapter 22
Cambria
“You guys are animals,” Dorian complains, passing his credit card to the waiter with a frown. “Did you starve yourselves for days for this or what? No one should be able to eat that much without getting sick.”
Atlas and I are about two seconds from passing out in food comas, but it was well worth it. The look on Dorian’s horrified face will forever be stored in my memory with satisfaction. I turn to Atlas expectantly, resting my elbow on the table and holding up my cheek.
“I will take my prize now, good sir.”
He pouts. “I can’t. I might legitimately die,” he argues.
Still, I don’t back down. “Don’t write checks your ass can’t cash, Atlas. If you weren’t prepared to lose, you shouldn’t have made the bet.”
The waiter returns Dorian’s card and we get ready to leave while Atlas turns around. I stand up on my chair and wrap my arms around his neck as he grabs my thighs.
“It’s almost a mile away from here!” Atlas gripes while I settle in for the ride.
“Loser has to carry the winner to the ring. You’re words, not mine.”
Lucien and Dorian grab the two travel bags we’ve taken to carrying when we cross over, not needing much since we have a house there now. After our impromptu trek through the forest soaking wet though, we agreed to carry some basics just in case.
We try as much as possible just to stay home until I’ve recharged enough to go back home and stay off of everyone’s radar. It’s seemed to work well enough after the castle incident, so when we do decide to go outside, it’s only for groceries or hiking. Now we pretty much just carry camping gear when we cross over and sometimes never even go to the house.
“I was joking. It’s not like you could carry me more than a few steps,” he argues.
I kiss his cheek. “Sorry, no going back on a deal with the devil.”
We carry on, passing a few people sending us looks as is normal ever since the news story went out. Despite the fact Lucien’s lawyer got the media to pull the story after explaining the danger it puts me in due to my witness protection status, the damage was done. What’s out there once is out there forever now that the internet exists.
“Is that a thing?” Dorian asks, dropping his voice low and leaning close to me. “Are you bound by magic if you make an official deal?”
“If you want me bound and gagged, all you need to do is ask,” I reply loudly, making him blush as people give us more looks than they were before.
I don’t officially answer, because no matter how much I’ve come to trust them, I don’t want to risk a single soul overhearing that very dangerous information. That’s exactly why I’d rather starve than get a loan from a fae bank. Thank fuck a fae needs to agree to the terms of the deal so nothing can be forced on them, but if we aren’t hyper vigilant of the wording and potential loopholes, we could damn ourselves catastrophically.
When we step into the fairy ring, Atlas drops me on my ass and sits down with an exhausted groan that I refuse to feel insulted over. It’s his own fault for forcing me to eat so much just so I could win our bet, so he only has himself to blame for the added weight of a food baby.
We cross over, the four of us consecutively groaning or grumbling, none of us wanting to be back. As magical as this place may be, it sucks ass.
“House or camping?” Lucien asks as we start walking.
“We should probably at least check in on the house since we haven’t been there in almost a week,” Atlas offers.
We follow the tree lined path out of the clearing, speaking low and musing if Lucien’s connections will be finished with the added security measures by the time we get back. I lurch forward as something catches my ankle, but end up smacking the back of my head on the ground instead of face planting when something heavy crashes into me.
The guys curse and shout, but it takes me a second for the world to stop spinning and ears to cease ringing. I shove at the heavy weight on top of me, groaning in relief when it falls away. We’re suddenly plunged into darkness, the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel blocked off. With as densely packed as the trees are lining the path, the only waning sunlight able to reach us is filtered down through the branches.
There’s just enough dim light to make out a shape and my hand curls into a fist when I realize it’s a who, not a what, that tackled me. All fatigue vanishes from my limbs as adrenaline pumps into my system and despite how burned out I am, I use just enough of my energy to bring a glow to my hand so I can see.
“Rickon?”
My stomach drops, seeing the blood spatter across his face and the crazed look in his eye. I get to my feet, backing towards where the guys are shouting profanities, rest
rained.
He’s actually going to kill me this time. Why now, after all these years? What tipped him over the edge?
“Cambria.” His voice is serious, devoid of any of his usual insults as he takes a step closer.
No ‘Little Lark’, no sneering or taunting. The horrifying realization just sends my heart into overdrive as my next step back is met with him quickly closing the distance between us. He isn’t messing around anymore, not toying with me, which can only mean his games have come to an end. I prayed for that very thing how many times? Yet now that I’m face to face with the reality I desperately wished for, I just want to take it back, to go back to the way things were before the guys filled my head with hopes that things could be better.
I open my mouth to speak, but when his hands land on my shoulders, it snaps instantly shut. No one voluntarily touches my bare skin unless it’s to hurt me and in this tank top, Rickon is getting a handful. It steals all form of rational thought, and only the sound of the guys in the background keeps my vision from blackening or sending me into a panic attack. Atlas is urging me to drop Rickon before he can do anything, and Dorian is cursing while fighting his restraints. Lucien, I don’t hear a single word from.
“You need to run,” he continues, shaking me to get my attention. “Do you hear me?” his voice rises, growing harsher. “They’re going to kill you this time, Cambria, and I can’t hold them off any more. It doesn’t matter what the Queen wants you for, this was too far, and even she can’t get them to back down.
“Who? Why?” I manage, barely able to breathe as my mind struggles to keep up.
“Her consorts, your fathers,” he shouts, agitated and trying to literally shake some sense into me. “Someone tried to kill the Queen and they’re blaming you.”
***
To be continued in Echo, Bound by the Fae Book 2...
Echo- mybook.to/EchoJKearston
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