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Modern Wicked Fairy Tales: Complete Collection

Page 9

by Selena Kitt

“You don’t have anything I want.” She spat the words out with his attempt at a kiss.

  He had both arms around her and he squeezed her so hard she couldn’t breathe. “Another few months and I’m going to be the richest man you’ll ever meet. You know what’s in this mine?”

  She shook her head, letting out a little squeak of response, but she did know. She’d identified the smell, that thick bloody smell—it was copper.

  “Silver!” he hissed, eyes bright with glee. “Do you know what silver is worth in today’s market? Do you know how much it’s going to be worth?”

  She shook her head again, the world fading from gray to black and back again. She literally couldn’t breathe.

  “Millions!” He laughed, squeezing and twirling her around like they were celebrating something. “Billions!”

  She caught a breath, her lungs burning, her side, both sides, aching with the expansion. “I hate you.”

  His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “Good. That will make dying easier.”

  She went on, in spite of herself. If she was going to die, she wanted him to know the truth. “I never loved you. I love Silas. He’s more man, in every way, than you will ever be.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He shoved her backwards, grabbing hold and tearing at her bra. It wouldn’t give, the hooks on the back holding fast. He frowned in frustration, redoubling his efforts, and Jolee saw the sudden widening of his eyes before she realized what was happening, the way his mouth dropped in surprise, jaw working with unspoken words.

  Carlos tried to say something, but he just gurgled, his grip on her loosening. That’s when she saw the arrow sticking out of the side of his throat.

  “Silas,” she whispered, pushing her husband away from her without thinking, already searching for her rescuer with her eyes. Carlos stumbled back, one hand reaching for the arrow sticking out of his neck, the other blindly grasping in front of him, and she saw that he was going to fall. There was no stopping his momentum—he was going to fall into the hole in the floor.

  “Uuuhuhh!” Carlos choked, blood running down to stain the collar of his white button down shirt, blooming on the front like a rose. He had one hand on the arrow and was trying to pull but the pain was clearly too much. He pawed the air with his other hand and managed to hook his fingers through the front of Jolee’s exposed bra again.

  And she was falling.

  His momentum became her own, and they were both going down together, falling into the darkness toward a roiling death. She heard thunder behind her, felt something hit the floor, but there was no time to turn. She could only see her husband’s wide, frightened eyes and the white skeleton of the muskrat bobbing below.

  Then a big, thick arm had her around the waist and she was watching Carlos fall, not falling with him. Silas, who had seemed to fly down to catch her, had been on top of one of the machines behind them, making for an easy shot—and the thunder behind her had been him jumping to the floor.

  She turned away from the splash, ten feet below, and Silas pulled her in close, squeezing her so hard she couldn’t breathe and didn’t care. He whirled her away from the vat of acid and they both heard Carlos screaming, finally finding his voice in spite of the arrow in his windpipe.

  Silas glared down to see his brother dying and snarled, “Don’t worry, bro, it’s as safe as lemon juice.”

  She was in too much pain to walk and he carried her to the end of the aisle toward the exit, his bow still strung over his shoulder.

  “What took you so long?” she gasped, arms around his neck, drinking him in. He was scarred, his face ravaged by the fire, but she could still see the man he’d been, the man he still was, the strong jaw and clefted chin, the full lips, and the same beautiful dark eyes.

  “I came as fast as I could.” He looked at her in the light of day as he carried her outside, fully exposed to her now. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “Yes,” she replied, swallowing. “And yes.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He pressed his forehead to hers and then kissed her cheek, looking down at her still zip-tied hands, her fingers bent.

  “It’s okay.” She rested her cheek against his chest as he walked, carrying her easily in his arms, as if she weighed nothing at all. “You can take me home and fix me up and make it all better. You’ve done it before.”

  “True enough.”

  She felt his lips against the top of her head.

  “How long were you there waiting to take the shot?” she asked as they walked past Carlos’s car, the trunk she’d ridden in still open. She wondered what he’d heard, how much he’d seen.

  “Not long.” He slowed. “A few minutes.”

  She lifted her face to look at him, tracing a scar from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. “Did you hear me say it?”

  He cleared his throat. “Say what?”

  “I love you.” She watched his eyes fill with tears.

  “I heard.” He blinked fast, his gaze drifting away and then back to her. “I just didn’t know if you meant it.”

  “Oh I meant it.” She kissed him softly, marveling at the familiarity of his mouth, his arms around her. This was Silas, her Silas, unmasked. “I promise you, I meant every word.”

  “I was coming home to tell you.” He smiled, hefting her in his arms. She knew what he meant.

  “But I wasn’t there.”

  He shook his head, his eyes grave. “No, you weren’t.”

  “But you found me.”

  “Yes, I did.” He nodded, a smile playing on his lips.

  She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck. “You can tell me now.”

  “I love you,” he said, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a brighter, more beautiful smile in her life.

  “Good.” She snuggled up in his arms. “Now take me home so you can kiss it and make it all better.”

  Silas started walking again, carrying her with him. “Yes ma’am.”

  Epilogue

  “Abe came by this morning.” Jolee greeted her husband with the news as he came in the door, shaking off the snow. It was a winter reminiscent of their very first in the cabin—three feet of snow outside and still falling. The world was blanketed in white silence.

  “How in the hell did he get out here?” Silas yanked off his boots and set them aside. “It’s so deep I can barely make it in snowshoes.”

  She shrugged, watching him dust the snow out of his dark hair. “He said the county finalized the paperwork. The judge’s decision is final, no more appeals.”

  Silas stopped, eyes wide. “Really?”

  She nodded, smiling at the joyful look on his face, knowing now why Abe had stayed so long, wanting to tell Silas himself, but the snow and the lateness of the day finally chased him back home. They’d had a good, long talk, as always. Abe, she’d discovered, had been a good friend of her father’s. She was only one-quarter Chippewa herself, but her father had been half, and it was Abe, she discovered, who had left the note in her mailbox, her father’s friend, who had come out to the cabin to check on her at night when Silas was gone, leaving his footprints in the snow.

  After the discovery and identification of Carlos’s body, the Chippewa Indians had come forward with the information Silas had given them. Abe, working as a spokesman, had revealed her dead husband’s crimes to the world. Then they’d discovered the most shocking news of all. Carlos had never changed his will—Jolee was the sole heir to his money and businesses.

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Silas exclaimed, coming forward to kneel in front of her chair by the fire. He put his wet head in her lap and she stroked his hair, smiling. They had both agreed, almost simultaneously, when they’d heard the news about the will, and Jolee stepped forward to claim it. Of course Carlos’ partners had contested the will, but in the end, the will was upheld. After three years of appeals, the mining and logging businesses had been ordered to be liquidated, the land donated to the Indian Reservation for restoration.r />
  “Well, you might want to hear my other news before you make that call.” Jolee smiled.

  “Oh?” Silas lifted his head, raising an eyebrow.

  “My water broke.” She opened her legs to reveal the towel she was sitting on under her t-shirt.

  His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and she almost laughed out loud. “What?”

  “You ready to have a baby?”

  “In a snowstorm?” He gulped. “We can’t get to a hospital.”

  “Who needs a hospital?” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Would you rather have a baby in the truck stuck in the snow or here in our own nice, warm bed?”

  “Home.” He smiled, recognizing their “would you rather?” game. “But Jolee, are you sure—?”

  She rolled her eyes, feeling the baby stir, knowing another contraction would come soon. They were coming more steadily now. She wasn’t worried. It was all going to be okay.

  “Would you rather kiss me or keep talking?”

  Silas hesitated and then pressed his lips to hers, giving her the only answer that had ever really mattered.

  GOLDILOCKS

  “Most people go to Brazil to work on their tan.” Goldie sighed, watching Campbell use his iPhone to bypass the alarm system. She kicked at a Styrofoam cup in the alleyway, startling a cat—or a really big rat—behind a dumpster. It bolted in the darkness and her heart jumped in her chest in spite of her outward calm. “

  “We can do that later.” He glanced up at her and then nodded at the door. “It’s all yours.”

  “Promises, promises.” She unholstered the drill out of her belt like a six-shooter, making quick work of the bolt. No alarm went off. The cameras on the side of the building had already been disabled, thanks to Campbell. “Is there a night guard?”

  “Nope.” He swung the door wide and they went into the back entrance of the bank, down a dark hallway lit red by the emergency exit light behind them. “Yet another oversight.”

  “You know, a lot of people go on their honeymoon in Brazil,” she suggested hopefully.

  Campbell didn’t take the bait.

  “The safe?” She could feel it, could almost taste it, heavy gauge steel, lever like a roulette wheel waiting to be spun—everyone place your bets, who’s going to get lucky tonight? But Goldie didn’t need luck.

  “Through here.” Campbell was playing with his phone again, glancing up at the security cameras. The red lights on them were off.

  Goldie drilled through another door, this one with two bolts. She heard the secondary locking mechanism at the bottom and swore under her breath.

  “They got a backup,” Goldie warned him, already feeling around on her belt. She found what she was looking for, pulling out the hand-held plasma saw.

  Campbell raised his eyebrows. “Nifty gadget.”

  “You know I love my toys.” She smirked, grabbing her goggles off her belt and pulling them on. “Step back.”

  He did as he was told, getting out of her way as she pressed the trigger, waiting for it to spark. She was through the secondary lock in less than ten seconds and Campbell pulled the door open, revealing the vault room behind it.

  “Pretty.” Goldie pulled her goggles off to get a better look. “Dual combination. I assume it’s on a timer?”

  “Of course.”

  She approached the vault with reverence, touching her gloved palm against the surface. Could she do it? She’d had the opportunity to crack a dual combination lock only once before, and that had been in the light of day with the head of banking security breathing down her neck.

  “Time me?” She grinned over her shoulder at him, taking her gloves off so she could feel the combination dial in her hand.

  “Sure.” He fussed around with his iPhone again. “On your mark…get set…go!”

  She closed her eyes and started turning the dial, hearing her father’s voice in her head—just line up the gates under the fence. It’s easy as one-two-three. Well, in this case, four. It was a four digit combination lock, and there was a twin right next to it with a different combination waiting to be discovered.

  All combination locks were a set of wheels. All you had to do was line up the notches on the wheels with the contact points and you were in. Of course, with a four-digit combination, there were ten thousand possibilities, and this little gadget couldn’t be hacked with a computer. Goldie didn’t use sound-enhancing equipment or earphones. She used what her father had taught her, along with just her ears and her hands.

  “Thirty seconds.” Campbell spoke softly, knowing not to break her concentration.

  “Got the first one,” she muttered. Her fingers just seemed to “know” or “see” where the wheel was. She’d always had an incredibly sensitive sense of touch. Even her father had been surprised when she had started to surpass him in her ability to crack a safe. It was a little like flying once she really got into the zone, working the lock around, back and forth, slowing as she neared the sweet spot, and then—ahhhhh, such a lovely jolt when she found it.

  “Got the second.” It didn’t hurt that her memory was like a steel trap. She could hear Campbell’s breath beside her, smell the Altoids on it—curiously strong, cinnamon and sweetness.

  “Three minutes.” He sounded excited, but he always was when they were on a job. He loved watching her work, even though it always felt like a competition. She didn’t know why he worried about it. There was no man alive who could do what he did. He could hack anything, bypass any electronic system ever made, usually just from his modified, jailbroken iPhone, but he couldn’t do what she did and he admired her for it. He truly appreciated those things he wasn’t good at. She liked that about Campbell.

  “Third one.” She redoubled her efforts, nearing the end now. For some reason, the first number came easy, but last was always the most difficult. Slowing her motions, she focused, concentrating hard, her tongue sneaking out to touch the corner of her mouth. Her father used to tease her that she was going to bite it off some day.

  “Four minutes. Damn. What did you do the last one in?”

  Goldie turned the dial, searching for the sweet spot. “Six minutes and eight seconds.”

  And she found it. “Got it.”

  He gave a low whistle. “Four minutes and fifty three seconds!”

  “Got one more to go.” She moved to the second combination lock and started working it. It was all the way at the other end of the door, far out of reach of the first. This safe required two people to open both locks at the same time, an added security measure. She got the first number right away, unmindful of the time. This was just another job, another lock to crack open. The second and third came almost back to back, the notches lining up and falling like dominoes. And again, it was the last one that tripped her up, forcing her to focus her efforts, making that final release an exhilarating thing, leaving her breathless as she turned to Campbell.

  “That’s it.”

  “Woo!” His eyes were bright. “You did two of them in six minutes and forty-seven seconds!”

  “Write them down.” She rattled off the combinations and he punched the numbers into his iPhone. “We have to do it together or it won’t work, and we only get one shot.”

  “I know.” He leveled her with a withering look and she grinned, hand still on the dial. Campbell turned the other combination lock to zero it out and she did the same. He glanced at his iPhone, reading off the numbers to double-check the combination.

  “Ready?” she prompted, eyeing the silver vault wheel with anticipation.

  “Go.” He started turning the dial and she did too, both of them focused intently on doing it correctly. They waited anxiously when they’d finished, stepping away from the vault, and saw the light at the top go from red to yellow. There was a green one next to it that hadn’t lit up yet.

  “We’re in!” Campbell crowed, grinning.

  “How long do we have to wait before we can open it?” she asked, referring to the timer that was set the moment the light
went yellow. The green one would go on after the allotted time.

  “It’s a quickie,” he said “Twenty minutes.”

  “That’s it?” She pouted, already unhooking her tool belt, letting it drop to the floor. “How many times can you make me come in twenty minutes?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  He peeled her out of her black catsuit like a banana, leaving it limp at her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, her body thin and lithe in his hands. He had big hands and she liked that, feeling him pull and grab and tug, gripping her ass as he wasted time kissing her, his tongue probing between her lips.

  She discouraged his efforts at romance by dropping to her knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. His cock sprang free in her hand when she pulled his jeans and boxers down and she turned her mouth and tongue into a delightful distraction, sucking him deep, feeling him swell between her lips. Her pussy was so wet she could feel her own juices on her thighs. She’d been wet for hours imagining this moment and she knew it was in her eyes when she looked up at him, seeing his excitement feeding off her own.

  Her attention to his cock made him moan, his hips beginning to rock, shoving his length to the back of her throat. She gagged a little but didn’t stop, wrapping her hand around the base of him and sucking faster still. Campbell’s hand moved over her head, shoving the black knit cap she wore off and letting her gold curls spill down over her bare shoulders.

  “Easy,” he begged as she used her other hand to cup the heavy weight of his balls, rolling them gently, tracing the line between with her thumb. “This was about how many times I can make you come, remember?”

  She took him out of her mouth long enough to murmur, “I know,” but resumed her sucking regimen, making him buck and fist his hand in her hair, pulling backward until his cock popped fatly out of her mouth, leaving a thick strand of saliva between the tip of it and her lower lip.

  She whimpered but didn’t protest when he reached down to grab her, pulling her up against him. The buttons of his shirt dug against her bare skin and she let him kiss her this time, let him taste his precum in her mouth as she sucked at his tongue. He groaned when she found his cock with her hand, fisting and pumping him, rubbing her thumb over the wet head.

 

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