The Silent Princess

by T. A. Grey

  Here she thought they’d been hiding so well, but she never could have foreseen this. Things had taken a drastic turn, and she felt like she was slipping off a rollercoaster ride, hanging on by the tips of her fingers.

  “Do you think we should call Gavin and tell him about what happened?”

  Alex sat quietly in the corner of the room where he was pouring over the map. “No point, really. Likely he’ll learn about this soon enough anyway. He can’t get here any faster. Not like we can change much of the outcome.”

  Hanna took a second to study him. Something in the sound of his voice caught her attention--he sounded distressed. “What’s wrong, Alex?”

  His body stiffened noticeably. “What isn’t wrong, princess?”

  There was that nickname, almost seemed like he used that moniker to push her away and keep her at a distance.

  “Fair enough. But something must be bothering you. Is it our composite sketches at the petrol station? I’m sure we’ll survive.” She tried for positivity.

  The map crinkled in his hands. “Nothing’s changed. And, no, nothing’s wrong. Drop it.” His words were tinted with anger.

  She whistled softly “Nothing says anger like snapping at a person, Alex.”

  He sent her a disparaging look, so she turned around and let him be, sighing in exasperation. “So, we’re going to continue on with the plan then? To meet Gavin at the pick-up location on the map?”

  No response. Hanna ground her jaw. What was with his attitude? It made her so mad she wanted to rip her damn hair out. Instead, she stood angrily and marched over to him.

  “Answer me.”

  She’d gone from sweet to angry in zero-point-two seconds flat.

  He didn’t look up, but she had a feeling he was no longer studying the map in his hands.

  “I’m tired of this,” she told him clearly, succinctly.

  “I’m sick of a lot of things too, princess.” He sighed, the sound rattling in his big lungs. “Sometimes that’s life. It’s tough. You gotta keep goin’.”

  “Thanks for the motivational speech, Alex, but I don’t care. You and I are here in this shit storm together. That means if you’re down about something, that worries me, and I want to know why. At this point, you have to tell me why, because I’m not dying like this. Do you hear me? I’m not letting these people ruin me because of what Remi did.” Her voice broke, clouded with emotion. “You got me?”

  He did finally look up at her, but Hanna couldn’t take him seeing her tear up. That MacKellen strength in her. Ha, yeah, her mother used to say about her father that he was stubborn as a mule. Sometimes she thought the same thing about herself.

  Hanna plopped back down in front of the fire where it was nice and warm and wiped the tears away. Jerk, she thought bitterly. For a moment her mood sunk so low, her entire body trembled and she thought she might truly cry. The kind of miserable sobbing that came when one truly looked at their morbid position in life and saw just how fruitless it all was.

  Enough of that kind of talk, Hanna. You’re stronger than that.

  Closing her eyes, Hanna willed herself to calm down. Eventually her muscles relaxed and once again, she had control over her emotions.

  “You don’t have to be upset, Hanna. I’m just thinking about things is all,” Alex responded after a while.

  At least he’d taken to using her real name and not that stupid moniker he always used. Princess my ass, she wanted say. He tried to make it sound like some positive thing--she was this educated ideal princess of a woman in his mind--but in real life, she was none of those things. At least none of those qualities made her any different from anyone else. In fact, even while those qualities may make her sound affluent or unique according to what Alex thought, in real life she’d been an unhappy woman living an unhappy life with a man who couldn’t be what she needed for far too long. That was the cold, harsh truth. And it hurt.

  That wasn’t how a real princess would live.

  “Thinking about things,” she replied with fake pleasantness. “How nice.”

  Which only served to make him chuckle. “You know,” he drawled a breath as if he was about to tell a long story, “My dad was the one who taught me how to break locks.”

  Hanna’s eyebrows shot sky high and instantly turning, she faced him, eager as a child to be told a story. Especially this story. She wanted popcorn and a soda, to sit back and recline her feet, but instead she merely watched raptly.

  “He taught you how to pick locks? Why?”

  He gave a half-laugh, which sounded more like a grunt. “Yeah, why’d he do half the shit he did? ‘Cause he was a miserable son of a bitch, that’s why. Maybe it’s because his father never taught him right. Who knows?”

  He shrugged. “But yeah, one day, he took me out to this old elementary school yard--outside the pack. A human school. It was a weekend so no one was there. We drove around back. He showed me how to use bolt cutter to snap a chain in two that barred the doors shut. Then he picked the lock to the door. A standard, industrial strength lock. It was exciting and scary. I knew we weren’t supposed to be there, doing what we were doing. Bad stuff. He stole random things from some offices and classrooms. Old computers, keyboards, things like that. Took medicine from the nurse’s station. After that, I wanted to learn how to pick locks.” He chuckled, the sound dark and wicked.

  Hanna shook her head in disbelief. “You wanted to learn how to steal? But why? You said so yourself, it made you feel scared.”

  He rolled his neck, cracking it. “Yeah, but it was exciting too. That trumps the fear. Or maybe I liked the feeling of being scared too. Wasn’t anything I wasn’t unfamiliar with.” He folded the map and put it away suddenly.

  “That’s nuts, Alex.”

  “You think that’s crazy. What’s crazy is he did it. One of the only things the bastard ever taught me. How to get away from police, how to hide evidence,” he grinned at her. “All the necessaries to being a young criminal. That hostage situation I told you about?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well that happened when I was about nineteen years old. I was burglarizing these rich people’s house. Dumb shits had no security, not even a dog, and several windows were unlocked. Big mistake on their part. Easy as shit for me, right? Well, the dad comes home early surprising me while I was upstairs. Before I knew it, I had a shotgun in my face and a man threatening to kill me. Now, I was a dumb little shit, so I wasn’t thinking clearly. I might’ve gotten away had I run but he could also shoot me square into he face with buckshot--being lykaen and all I might’ve survive--but the fear was real. So I listened to him and stayed put. I was there for hours. He ended up interrogating me, lecturing me on all manner of shit, asking me why I was there, why I was so young to be doing this. Blah, blah, blah.” His head hung, remembering what had happened, voice gentling. “He changed me. After that, I never stole from anyone again. Not because I was scared of it, but ‘cause he was right. I didn’t want to be like that.”

  Hanna nodded encouragement. “He helped to change you.”

  “I guess...’cause he told me I could do better. He told me I was trash doin’ what I was. I didn’t like that. You could say I had a bit of an ego at that age.” He sent her a full-tooth grin that made her heart melt. In her mind, she caught a vision of the young Alex, incredibly good-looking, almost baby-faced without the facial hair growing in.

  “Is your dad the reason why you never graduated high school?” Hanna scooted closer to hear the answer.

  Alex blinked and she flinched. He probably didn’t like being reminded of his lack of education which appeared to be a sore spot for him. “Who gave a shit about school when you were more worried whether your dad would finally kill you?” He laughed humorlessly. He spoke not dramatically, but as a man from experience.

  “Oh, Alex, I had no—”

  “Had no idea? Yeah, no one does. It was just him and me in that fucking house. That hell pit. The spawn of the devil himself.” He laughed darkly, voice
rough and twisted. “I used to think that about that place even when I was gone from it. I hated it. Was happy to see it burn down.”

  Hanna could hear the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke of his past. She could almost see the hurt boy beneath it all.

  “I’d heard about your family home burning down. I was only fourteen at the time, I think. Did they ever figure out what had happened to it?”

  Alex’s smile made her gut clench. “No, they never found out.” A sigh. “Because I never admitted to it.”

  Hanna gasped, her heartbeat speeding up. “You burned the house down? But why?”

  “I told you, Hanna. Hell house. You have no idea what sick shit went on in that place. That bastard...” Alex shook his head, then stood abruptly. “Need a cigarette.” He was quite agitated suddenly, pacing and sifting through the measly drawers and cupboards, but he’d find nothing but dust and old belongings.

  “Doubt there’s any here,” she said cautiously.

  “Or a shot of whiskey.”

  “Don’t have any alcohol.”

  Alex’s gaze landed on her, startling her with their feverish intensity. He looked on edge, out of control, emotion overtaking him. He was practically trembling. From what—rage?

  Just what had his father done to him all those years ago? He’d died when Alex was only a teenager that Hanna knew. The Thompson family had quite the gossip tree back in those days.

  “You know what’s even better than that smokes or booze? That’s just crap in comparison.”

  “In comparison to what?” she asked, afraid to breathe. A powerful spell was being woven around them, encompassing her in his sinister energy. She was completely susceptible to it, curious as an insect to fire, no matter if it led to her demise.

  One boot came closer to her, a heavy thud on the floor making the wood creak beneath his weight. She could feel his presence looming nearer, his intensity making her breathless.

  “Pussy.”

  Well, that was putting it candidly.

  But he had more to say.

  “Men have been dying over it, for it, because of it for ages. And we always will. ‘Cause nothing as a man can make you happier, can sate you deeper than when you’re inside a woman and you’re making her feel things she’s never felt before. The look she will give you,” he bit his lip turning away, as if imagining it; she felt flushed. “It changes you. As a man. When you do somethin’ like that. Can’t really explain it, princess. But a man could get lost in pussy forever. It can erase your problems or change your dreams. All because of a woman.”

  His words settled over her and she considered what he said, though she blushed the entire time, unused to someone (let alone Alex) speaking to her in such a manner. It was downright...frank and ridiculous and revealing.

  “But you wouldn’t have sex with me,” she pointed out clearly. Not the least bit shamed by her haughty statement.

  He swiped his hand through the air, dismissing her point. “That’s different. You’re the princess, not one of these casual women I date. You’ve seen the women I date. They’re not looking to me to father their children and start a marriage. They want me for about the same thing I want them for and that’s fair as far as I see it.”

  “That’s quite a pedestal you have me on, Alex. A rather tall one, don’t you think?”

  He flinched, but bolstered forward with his point, shaking his head. “No, that’s bullshit. You’re different. Period. Always have been.”

  “Fine, we disagree, but let’s not get into that right now. What’s your point?”

  “My point? My point’s that--- ” he stuttered, flustered and unsure. “Hell, I have no idea. I guess it all started ‘cause I wanted a cigarette but we don’t have one.”

  “That’s right and no booze either.”

  “Yeah,” he said, staring straight at her. Something close to a snarl on his lips. She did not feel a lick of fear however. Why would she? She had nothing to fear from Alex, the man would never hurt her.

  A wry smirk curled at her mouth. She laughed a bit at it all. At this whole conversation really. Remarkable is what it was. “And I guess there’s no passable pussy for you to fuck emotionlessly either, especially since I don’t count. That pedestal you put me on places me so high in the air, Alex. Poor you. If only you hadn’t done that, maybe we could have acted as adults and made out hardcore.”

  Thud. He came one-step closer to her.

  Her gut clenched with fear--a hunch told her she’d just made him mad. Quite mad.

  “How would you know how I fuck? You think I have sex without feeling? Princess, let me tell you something: what you said reeks of jealousy. What do you know about my sex life? Not a damn thing.”

  Well that hurt. Maybe she deserved some of his sass, so she wouldn’t kill him.

  But apparently, he wasn’t done. “Not like your sex life has been any better, princess. Tell me, what was sex like with white-collar CPA Tom? I bet it was the greatest.” He crossed his arms and braced his feet, ready to have a full-on debate about this. “Did he make you quiver and coo and sweat until the sheets were wet? Or let me guess. He was a touch...one note in the bedroom, wasn’t he?”

  Hanna bristled with indignation. “Leave Tom out of this.” She did not want to talk her sex life with Tom. Period. Ever.

  “Why? So you can protect his manhood?”

  “Like hell,” she spat. “I hate him for what he did.”

  Alex’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Venomous words. I like it. That shit’s far better than you rolling over docilely while he fucked every woman that winked at him. See, babe, the pussy. It gets a man. Can lure him in like that. Tom was more susceptible than most. Most men can be content with a single pussy to fuck, not him. He was like a predator, a damn snake.”

  Hanna did a double take, then replayed the words he just dared to speak to her over and over again. Until she had the part she wanted mesmerized.

  That shit’s far better than you rolling over docilely while he fucked every woman that winked at him.

  She could not believe he just said that. Could not, did not want to believe it. But god damn did he say it.

  Hanna’s jaw dropped as she stood, anger rising like boiling water. Alex must have realized he’d made a grave error, because he raised his hands as if to thwart an incoming attack.

  “What did you say?” she whispered.

  But did Alex Thompson back down at her obvious anger? Oh hell no. He upped the ante and took another step closer, hands poised on his hips as he sneered at her, equally angry.

  “You heard me, princess. You hate to hear the truth. I get it. Thank god you changed and got out of that shit, ‘cause I couldn’t stand it every time I had to see that miserable look on your face. That pathetic, crushed expression like he’d just stomped out all the light in your whole world. You could have left him sooner, instead you let him use you, and meanwhile he got his dick wet in any number of ladies. And you still took him back!”

  His words rang with the bitter truth she wasn’t ready to admit and with honesty she recognized but was quick to deny. Survival instinct. A defense mechanism, her emotional state leaving her completely susceptible. Worst of all he had dared to speak aloud the one truth she’d never wanted to think about--that she’d taken Tom back.

  Her own bitterness, her own fury over her decisions coursed through her blood like raging lava, making her nails puncture her palms until she bled.

  Hanna exploded. Unthinking. Pure anger and emotion, too raw to consider. “How dare you speak to me that way!? You know nothing about me! You know nothing about Tom— ”

  He shouted back, voice equally loud. “Everything I said is true! Tell me it isn’t!” he challenged. This was becoming a full-on shouting match.

  “You have no right to talk to me like that! You don’t know anything about my relationship!” Yet, that wasn’t true. He had known, quite well in fact. At the time, she hadn’t even told her own sister about Tom’s adultery. She’d felt too ashamed. S
till felt the burden of that shame to this day--months after leaving him.

  “Oh, and you have every right to tell me how I fuck? Like I do nothing but whores in some emotionless bubble? That’s okay? When you know jack-shit about me and my love life, princess.”

  Hanna panted righteous indignation and a whole lot of what-the-frick anger. But when she opened her mouth to respond, she came away with nothing more than gurgling noises. “Fuck! I hate you.”

  A part of her knew he was right but she was too livid to admit that aloud. The storm of emotions too uncontrollable, raging like a hurricane inside her making everything wild and unpredictable.

  “No, you don’t hate me, babe. Maybe you wish you did. You wouldn’t care so much about what I said if you hated me.” Smug satisfaction appeared on his face as he crossed his arms. That superior expression made her palm itch to slap that bearded cheek. This man brought her to violence. That’s all there was to it.

  “Yeah, well neither would you.”

  He stiffened. She saw the denial on his face before he shook his head. Yet, she’d already seen the truth. There was no going back. He did care about her, rather he wanted to admit it or not.

  He tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. “Listen, things are tense in here. Cabin fever. We’ve been cooped up together for too long. We’re bound to go neck and neck. How about we let bygones be bygones?”

  Her shoulders sagged. She didn’t want to fight with him. Not really.

  They’d both said some pretty heated things.

  “Yeah, I suppose.” After a minute, she resumed her seat and thought back over their conversation. “So...wait. You burned down your house?”

  He grimaced and she thought he might not speak any more about it, but then he nodded. “Yeah, I did. I went back home to the hell pit a few months after dad died. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to set fire to everything that had ever happened in that hellhole. So I poured gasoline on it, inside and out, and I lit the damn thing. I ran a safe distance away and watched it burn until it was nothing. Just...nothing.”