by C. E. Wilson
I winced. Thing. Why did it bother me so much now to hear someone else say it? “She’s mine,” was all I could say at first. “And I’ll ask you to give her back to me.”
“Her?” he said with a wide smile. “I didn’t see you as the type to enjoy playing with dolls, Mr. Davenport. I’m surprised.” He pulled Verity closer to his face, inspecting her closely, similarly to what I had done only a few weeks before. How weird it was to see Flynn doing the same thing to her as I had. My blood boiled with rage. I wanted her back.
She was mine.
Mauve would always be mine, but Verity was mine right now.
“Tell me, Mr. Davenport,” Flynn still inspected her closely, “how does it fly like that? What’s making it move?” He shifted his hands around so he could easily hold her, pinning down her wings with one hand, and started to touch her hands, holding them up to his eyes. I expected Verity to fight, but her eyes were dead! She was limp in his hands.
She might as well have been a doll.
Wait.
A doll. A doll! That was why she was limp in his hand! She didn’t want Flynn to know she was alive! I inwardly praised Verity for playing it smart and not trying to fight him off. I needed some way to get her back to me without harm.
“New technology,” I said. “It’s all over the news. Pretty sweet, isn’t she?”
“Indeed. So lifelike. I’m always amazed at the detail they can put into these new models. I wonder if they make ones like this life-size.” He chuckled. “God knows I could use something cute to keep me occupied until my sentence is up.”
I didn’t like what he was implying, but I tried not to let my emotion show on my face. I could still get her back. I could still get her back to me. I took another deep breath…I had to remain calm.
“I haven’t seen anything like that on the market yet,” I offered.
“Hmm…well, I guess the size doesn’t matter,” he mused. “So long as it gets the job done, right?” He burst out laughing at his own joke, and I could only chuckle weakly in response. His free hand trailed up her stockinged thigh, and I watched with horror as I realized she was barefoot. She had been in such a rush to get away from me, she hadn’t even put her damn shoes back on! She must have been freezing. Somehow, she remained stoic as he touched her toes with his fingertips. How was she holding so still? “Amazing craftsmanship. Where can I get one?”
“I’ll have to talk to Mauve,” I lied immediately. To my delight, this caught him off guard, and he stopped touching Verity’s foot and leg, letting them hang loosely.
“Mauve?” He lowered Verity. “Since when do you speak with her?”
“She called a few weeks ago.”
“Oh,” Flynn said with a sniff. “So that explains why you’ve been MIA. Thinking of Mauve and playing with your dolls.”
“That’s not it—” I snapped before I was able to control myself. “I mean, yeah. Since I’ve been drawing so much lately, she thought it would be a nice gift.”
“Your girlfriend sent you a sex doll?” Flynn asked with a frown.
“She’s not a sex doll, you moron,” I said, growing angrier with each passing moment. I couldn’t stand seeing her in his hands for much longer. Forget my cage and forget my collar. I had to get her back soon. Otherwise, I was afraid Flynn would head back into his house with her. And judging by the way he was talking about her, things wouldn’t be as laid-back as they were with me. I pretended to look at my watch without taking in what time it was. “Look, in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s cold and raining and I’d rather not get sick. I’m sorry about all the trouble, so if you could toss her back—”
“Toss. Her. Back?” Flynn asked, pulling Verity closer to him like a boy who didn’t want to share his toys in day care. “Mr. Davenport, what makes you possibly think I’m going to give it back? It flew into my cage; it’s mine now.”
“She’s mine,” I growled. “She was a gift from Mauve, and—”
“And maybe I want to play with your gift for a while. It isn’t fair that you get to have all the fun. I didn’t know such things were allowed. Perhaps I’ll say something to Felix next time he comes. I could use a doll of my own like this one. Hmm…” he trailed off as he brought her to his face again, turning her about, “I could do without the wings, though. They’d only get in the way for me.”
“Give her to me, Flynn.” I held out my hand. “I’m sorry she flew into your property, but you have to give her back.”
“Mr. Davenport, I don’t have to do anything.”
I saw my window of opportunity closing quickly. I had to think fast. Think fast. My head jerked up. Dammit! He was turning around…walking away. I could see Verity’s eyes blink as Flynn held her carelessly in one hand near his hip. Shit and dammit! What could I do?
Her mouth opened. She was going to scream. And if she did…
“I’ll report you!” I called desperately.
Flynn stopped in his tracks, still keeping his back to me. “Report me? For what?”
“She belongs to me. You’ve stolen something from me. I want it…er…her. I want her back, Flynn. If you hand her back over now, there will be no need for further action.”
Flynn turned around. He was trying to look unmovable but I could see the hesitation in his face. “And what ‘further action’ will that be, Mr. Davenport?”
My eyes darted back and forth. Think. Think. Think, goddammit!
I finally had it.
“Suspicious Carryings,” I said with an inward sigh of relief.
It had the intended effect on Flynn. His face faltered. “Suspicious Carryings?” he grumbled. “That’s only if…”
“If someone on the same island suspects that you’re up to something that could affect the success of Project Isolation.” I stepped up closer to the edge of my cage, looking triumphant. Flynn may have been a politician’s bitch, but he was still only a man in a cage—a man in a cage who didn’t want to deal with a certain warden who had it out for him. “They’ll have to turn out your room. You’ll be under watch for at least several days.”
“They wouldn’t find anything,” he snarled.
His hand tightened around Verity. She winced. She was so strong. I think I would have cried by then if something like that was happening to me. I hoped he wouldn’t shatter her ribs—if she really had them.
“You would end up in as much trouble as me if you made a false accusation.”
“Are you really sure they wouldn’t find anything?” I asked. “Are you really sure you want to take that chance? Milo’s always complaining that he isn’t paid enough. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind pocketing any cash he found lying around…”
Again, his hand clenched around her. I winced. He lifted Verity up and held her in front of his face, weighing the options.
“I won’t forget how you threatened me today, Mr. Davenport. I don’t take kindly to men who threaten me.”
“Give her back.” I thrust out my hand.
He rolled his eyes, his hand growing slack. Relief washed over me. We were almost out of the woods. “Whatever.”
And then I heard it. A sickening, sharp crack. No scream. Then silence.
And then Verity was tumbling through the air towards me. I cupped my arms and caught her as gently as I could against my chest as Flynn spun around and walked briskly back to his place.
“Won’t be so much fun with a damaged leg, will it? Tell the wardens that and have ‘Happy Fun Time,’ you asshole. And like I said…I won’t forget this.” He closed his door without glancing back again, but all I could think about was that sound. That horrible sound.
As slowly as I dared, I pulled Verity away from my chest and looked her over for injuries. That snap. He said her leg…oh, God. My face fell. Dangling over my hand was a foot at the wrong angle. How had she…how did she manage to keep up the act? I sprinted back inside, slamming the door closed behind me.
“Verity?” I asked, desperate to hear her voice again. “Verity, can you hear me? It�
�s me, Malcolm. You can talk now. He’s gone. You can talk.” When she didn’t answer right away, my eyes started to water. No. No, dammit! Only a few weeks ago, I’d promised her she’d never get hurt! My pride, my stupid, goddamn pride. “Verity, come on,” I pleaded. “Say something, okay? Let me know you’re okay.”
My eyes started to frantically search my tiny place. Tape, gauze, anything. Something to hold her foot in place. That was the only way to heal her. Jesus, thank hell she had wings. At least she wouldn’t have to put so much pressure on her foot when she woke up. Speaking of, when the hell was she going to wake up? I didn’t feel right letting her out of my hands yet, so I paced around the room, only stopping to get a piece of ice and press it against her ankle. It was better than nothing for now, but she was still silent.
I needed to hear her. I needed to hear her voice.
Never before had I been so desperate to hear someone speak other than Mauve.
I’d take Verity’s words over hers right now.
Something stirred, and I stopped pacing and glanced down at my hands. Her eyes were shifting behind her lids. I brought her closer to my face. “Verity,” I croaked, not wanting to frighten her, “Verity, it’s me. It’s Malcolm.”
She let out a sound like a whimper and a groan. My face crumbled, and my eyes felt wet. Something like a raindrop splattered across her chest. It wasn’t rain, but then wasn’t the time to be manly.
“Mal…colm,” Verity cooed at last. She sucked in a gasp. “Malcolm.” Her eyes widened. “Malcolm!” she burst out when she realized what was happening. I was holding her so close that even through her pain and my worry, we both grew red. I tried to give her some breathing room but still held her. I wasn’t putting her down. I pressed the ice against her ankle, and she let out a small hiss.
“Shh…shh,” I said, hoping she wouldn’t flail around. “Relax. You’re okay…it’s just us.”
“The other one?” she asked carefully.
“He’s gone. He gave you back to me and then he left.” My face darkened as I looked down at her mangled ankle. At least the ice was working, there wasn’t any swelling. “But he…”
“I know,” she whispered, looking as tired as she had during her first days there. “I felt the crack, but I was so desperate not to make a sound…I must have passed out.”
“You did good.” I smiled carefully. My eyes were still wet, but not with fear.
I didn’t know what I would do if Flynn had actually taken her away from me. In those few short, albeit terrifying minutes, I’d felt so empty without her, so alone. I hadn’t even realized how lonely I could feel until I had something and then lost it.
I was alone in the courtroom with Mauve staring at me all over again.
But it wasn’t the time to think about Mauve. I had to take care of Verity. I had to make good on my promise and show that I would never let her get hurt. Again. I had broken a promise, but I was convinced that I could fix this. Fix her. I blinked several times to get the tears out of my eyes, and they trailed down my cheeks. Verity almost looked confused by my reaction.
“I can’t believe you were able to hold it together the whole time,” I said, scrunching up my nose as I tried to get myself under control. A few tears? Okay. Sniffling and sobbing? Probably not the sexiest thing in the world.
Her face softened, and she gave me a pained smile. It about broke my heart. And just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, one of her tiny hands reached upward toward my face. She couldn’t quite reach, so I inched her a little closer and dipped my chin. I felt incredibly soft fingertips touch my jaw. She didn’t seem to mind the hint of a beard that must have scuffed her hand. Instead, her eyes locked with mine.
“So I did good?” she asked with hopeful eyes.
I let out a choking sound, almost crying again. What was she doing to me? I leaned against her hand. “You did good, Verity. The best.”
Chapter Nine
Several days went by, and I didn’t even think about going outside again. I was so afraid of what I might do. I wanted nothing more than to march right up to that bastard Flynn’s house and pound the living shit out of him for something he hadn’t even realized he had done—for something he knew nothing about. I was seething inside because of it. Verity, for her part, tried to calm me down and promised me she would heal like a normal person would, maybe even faster. This provided temporary relief, but if not for my stupid behavior, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I had promised to take care of her, but I wasn’t even capable of doing that!
When she was resting on Thursday afternoon, I decided that would be the day. I would talk to her about why I was on the island. I owed Verity that much. It wasn’t a lot to offer, but it was better than nothing.
I crouched down in front of the chair where she was resting, looking at her curiously. Hmm…her ankle was doing all right because of the toothpick splint I had made, but I still couldn’t get over her wings. Those wings! I didn’t understand how a humanoid creature could have wings. Was that body merely a vessel? Had science finally found a way to keep the soul intact while moving it?
I dared to lean in closer, curiosity playing evil games with me. It whispered softly in my ear, promising me that if I was still and quiet, she might not even wake up if I took a look. I mean, what was a little glance going to hurt anyway? I was going to tell her my story. I wanted to…I slumped. Yes, I wanted to, but maybe she wasn’t ready to listen. My brain promptly informed me that there was something very wrong about fondling a sleeping young woman no matter what the reason, what the size, or even what the species, just to sate my curiosity.
My fingers ached. They acted on their own, and despite my own misgivings, my hand slowly rose with fingers extended. If she started to wake up, I could pull away. I could say that I was checking her temperature or something like that. She’d believe that. After what had happened with Flynn, she had to trust me.
Verity trusted me.
My hand froze above her as I talked myself into this conclusion. That tiny, beautiful, broken creature trusted me for some reason. Even after I had let her fall into the hands of someone who could have misused or even abused her, she trusted and came back to me. She could have tried to run away. She could have tried to escape, but she didn’t. She was there sleeping on the chair because she knew I would never do anything to hurt her, would never disrespect her, would never see her as anything less than human.
I didn’t know why, but my heart warmed at that. Mauve had been my girlfriend for almost a year, and though we’d talked about love, we’d rarely talked about trust. The subject frightened us. I didn’t think she trusted me. And I didn’t trust her. That was what had brought me to the island in the first place. I lowered my hand to my thigh and waited patiently for Verity to wake up. The shack was so damn quiet when she wasn’t talking! What the hell could I do to pass the time? I wanted to talk. I looked over my shoulder, and the first thing that caught my attention was my art supplies.
Glancing back at Verity and then again at the supplies, I realized there was something I could do to pass the time, something I enjoyed and something I was discovering that I was actually very good at. Quietly, I stood up and grabbed the nearest sketchbook and pencil before sitting back across from her. A sleeping subject was usually the easiest to draw. Or so I thought. I didn’t have any pictures of Mauve to work with, but that certainly hadn’t stopped me before. Guh. Mauve. She kept coming back to me. For the first time in a while, I didn’t want her in my mind. I wanted to concentrate on Verity.
I bit my tongue and started to work. I did my best to capture her beauty, but it was hard in black and white. Verity Nine’s adorable face and body simply couldn’t be captured in gray shades. Bubble-gum-pink hair carelessly fell over her face. I brushed a few strands away with my finger so I could see her face. And her eyes. I couldn’t see the light behind her closed lids. I could only remember the pair of electric blues that shone so brightly I wondered if they could possibly be natural.
&nb
sp; No. I couldn’t settle for simply sketching Verity. I had to bring her to life with color.
Until then…I would sketch.
I didn’t know how much time had passed by the time Verity started stirring in the early evening, but I had all but completed my first draft. As I said, capturing her with a pencil was difficult, but I was sure I could improve on it once I could get to my watercolors. As she stirred and yawned, I quickly set aside my sketchbook and went back to crouch down in front of her.
Oh. God. She really was adorable.
“Mal…” she muttered in her sleep.
I arched a brow, curious what she was dreaming about.
“Mollie…Mallie…” she continued. She gripped the blanket around her. It didn’t seem like a nightmare. She wasn’t crying out and writhing in pain, but she was acting in a peculiar way.
“Ver?” I asked in a low voice, too nervous to try to wake her up. “Verity? You okay?”
“Mollie,” she muttered. “Malkie.”
Malkie? What the hell?
“Malcolm.”
That time, the word didn’t pass me by. I heard it loud and clear. Oh my God, she was muttering about me in her sleep, which meant she was probably thinking about me! The corner of one side of my mouth crooked upward into a sheepish grin. I wondered what she was thinking about. Malkie? Mallie? What the hell kind of names were those?
“What are you thinking about?” I whispered, resting my hand on top of her. She stirred again from my touch but said my name a few more times before her eyes finally opened. I was so close to her that I could see the tiredness in those blue eyes, the red and pink streaks. Quickly I removed my hand from her body and waited for her to sit up.
“Good evening,” I said in an overly formal voice.
“Hmmm…” she moaned, blinking and trying to get back to reality. “Evening. What have you been up to?”
“Oh, uh. You know, nothing much,” I said, trying to cover up the fact I had been awkwardly sitting in front of her for the past few hours, sketching her. Yup, no big deal. Not creepy at all. I sealed my lips.
