Southern Charmed (Hell's Belles Trilogy Book 2)

by Alison Claire

  As I walked home from work, I could feel the energy of the news in the air. People were glued to their phones. Sirens howled in the distance. After hearing the news, I had immediately felt a loss. I didn’t even know the person who jumped, but for some reason it hit me hard that someone would make that choice.

  As bad as life can be, I still held out hope that it would always get better. Despite what I’d witnessed in my own life, it was something I clung to— that all the bullshit meant something. And that life was about living long enough to solve the mystery.

  Chapter 3

  It was a 15-minute walk to my place from work. I always enjoyed it (unless it was raining), and I usually took my time. I looked in store windows; I stared up at the columns of the homes that made Charleston architecture famous. From the street they look so narrow, but they all have two— sometimes three— story porches that go way back under the shadows of palmettos and sago palms. They almost always have a courtyard and beautiful gardens beyond their wrought iron gates. Some of them are walled off, with ivory stretching over the brick.

  I was desperately in love with every single one I’d passed, and my favorite thing to do was to imagine the lives inside, and what it must be like to live inside of so much history— and money.

  Most of these homes were worth a couple of million dollars, at least.

  The carriage house I rented was part of one of the biggest homes on the peninsula. I’d never been inside it— the mansion, that is.

  When I signed the lease, I met with the owner (the pervy old dude) for brunch at a restaurant next to the law office where he’d been a partner before retiring. He wouldn’t even allow me in the main house to sign the contract.

  I had my own entrance to my part of the property, thankfully, and he’d never invited me into the main house. I got the feeling you had to be a certain kind of person to get invited in, and I was as far away from that type of person as it got.

  But that was fine with me, because like I said, he kind of creeped me out.

  He could have definitely charged way more for rent, but for some reason he didn’t. He also said he only rented to women, which came off as a little skeevy, but I’d dealt with way stranger folks than him, so it was a fine trade-off as far as I was concerned. He left me alone and that’s what was important.

  Usually I was in good spirits on my walk home. After all, what could better than a walk home from work? Especially when it was an early out. There was still a huge chunk of the day and night laid out before me. I’d gotten great tips that week. My fake ID and I could go to The Gin Joint on East Bay after dinner at Fleet Landing. I could digest my grits in Waterfront Park, on one of the big swings on the pier. I could watch the rich people take the water taxi across Charleston Harbor, back to Mount Pleasant where they lived in huge houses with perfect families, right on the marsh. I could pretend I belonged to them, get on board the taxi. It only cost ten bucks.

  I could pretend for a little while.

  I did that all the time.

  But I was in a foul mood. Knowing someone was floating in the harbor after jumping off a damn bridge? It should depress us, not enthrall us. I guess that’s why I was in a bad mood. I hated living in a world where people turned other people’s pain into entertainment.

  Or maybe I was just PMSing. Both were possible.

  I walked up the crushed oyster shell driveway that led to my tiny little house. I was surrounded by beautiful gardens and a pre-Civil War fountain that had a large angel statue. The angel looked right at my bedroom window. It greeted me every morning.

  I say pre-Civil War, but most people around Charleston (if they were truly Charlestonian anyway) called it the War Between the States. I’d been taught in school that it was all just some big misunderstanding about states’ rights. A few bitter Betties called it the War of Northern Aggression.

  I kid you not. Oh, bless ‘em, I guess.

  I smiled to myself as I opened the door to my home. I was in my peaceful place now. No need to be in a sad mood.

  When you first walked into my place, there was a small foyer that lead you to a tiny living room and a very bare bones kitchenette with a micro fridge and a stove. It was a chef’s nightmare. But I rarely cooked anyhow. I lived in Charleston, after all. Who wanted to cook when there were about 1000 different places to eat within a mile of my doorstep? I also mooched a ton of meals off the The Dixie Garden. It was a great perk.

  There was a little, narrow set of stairs that wet to my bedroom and bathroom on the second floor. It was a small place, not even 1000 square feet at the end of the day, but it was just me. It felt like a mansion compared to anywhere else I’d lived.

  My landlord kept the furniture in there for me, which I did appreciate. It meant I didn’t have to scour Craigslist for a cheap mattress or couch. The furniture was very dated. I guessed the stiff davenport in the living room had been around since at least the ‘50s. I bought some throw blankets for it at Target to make it less scratchy.

  No one had ever been in my place, not even Mara. I was a loner, through and through.

  But I was in for a surprise.

  Because as I walked into the living room, I about jumped out of my skin. There was somebody there. And I knew her.

  On my couch, sat Virginia Embers.

  Chapter 4

  “What the hell?” I dropped my keys on the floor as she stood up, her hand out as if she wanted to calm me down.

  “I’m so sorry,” she replied. She bent her knees into a squat and picked up my keys from the floor. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I really didn’t.”

  “How did you get in?” I asked. My heart was beating fast. “I should call the police.”

  Virginia shook her head. “No. That’s not necessary. I’m sorry I startled you. It was important I not be seen. I wasn’t sure when your shift ended.”

  I put my hand out and her own brushed against mine as she handed me my lanyard the keys were attached to. “You should have just come back later. You broke into my home!” I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “How did you get in? Am I going to have to fix a window or something, because my landlord will probably kick me out, if that’s the case. And that’s the last thing I need.”

  I was angry and confused. What entitlement she had! Typical rich Charleston lady. They think they have the right to be anywhere they want to be, laws be damned.

  “I promise, nothing was broken,” she assured me. “Your landlord actually let me in himself. I told him I was a friend of yours.”

  “And he bought that?” I asked. “That’s messed up. He can’t just let people into my place. Shit. I’m going to need to find somewhere else to live. I’ll never feel safe now.”

  I was trembling a bit, but at least it appeared I wasn’t in any sort of danger. But what did she want?

  I walked over to my micro fridge and pulled out a water. I could feel her eyes following me. She sat back down on my davenport as I opened the bottle and took a long swig.

  “Wow,” I said, sarcasm stinging my tongue. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

  Virginia sighed. It wasn’t the exasperated kind. It was the kind where someone has something they have to say and they’re not sure how to say it.

  “I know, this is invasive,” she said. “I didn’t want it to go this way, but recent events have had to speed up things a bit.”

  “What are you talking about?” I shut the fridge with the back of my foot. “I don’t even know you.”

  “You remember me, though,” she said, in a tone that told me she didn’t question my knowledge or memory. She was very sure of this fact. It bothered me how assured she was.

  “I mean, you look familiar,” I replied. I never liked to show my cards. Sometimes playing dumb can be the smartest thing to do.

  She smiled. “It’s okay, Briar. I promise you, I mean you no harm. But others do. That’s why I’m here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And who would care about me? I mean if you actually knew me, you
’d know that couldn’t possibly be true.” I paused, a thought hitting me. “You’re not related to Marla Muchow, are you?”

  Virginia shook her head. “No, certainly not.”

  “Well, that’s the only person I can think of who would want to harm me. And maybe my 10th grade English teacher, who tried to blackmail me into letting him feel me up to get a better grade on my Silas Marner paper. I’m guessing he winces and grabs his balls every time he thinks of me after my knee gave him my response to that proposition.”

  Virginia chuckled a bit. “Oh, Briar. You are truly something. You always have been.”

  I stared at her, my eyes narrowing.

  Okay. This wasn’t cute anymore.

  “Are you trying to mess with me?” I asked, walking toward her. “Because I don’t need this bullshit. You don’t know crap about me. Nobody does. So if this is some sick joke— “

  Virginia put her hands up. “Never, Briar. I would never hurt you. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m here to protect you.”

  “From what?” I spat out angrily. “I could have used protection a long time ago. But no one came for me. So I learned to protect myself. If someone is planning to hurt me or screw with me, I can handle it. So please. Go.”

  I turned from her and walked toward my door.

  “You’re Briar Givhans,” she said. “You were two years old when I had to leave you. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Not a minute goes by when I don’t think of you.”

  I turned to her, shocked to my very core.

  “Are you…” I started. I couldn’t bear to finish the sentence.

  “It’s complicated,” she replied. “I know that’s not fair to say, but there’s no better word for it. There is so much to your story, Briar. And is finally time for you to hear it. But I don’t have a lot of time now. We’re very vulnerable here. I wasn’t kidding when I said there are others who wish you harm. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

  I pushed my back against the wall next to my stairs and slid down to the floor.

  “Why didn’t you take me?” I asked. “When you came to the home? Months ago... Or even before then? Why now? And why should I trust you? You abandoned me.” I was trying my hardest not to cry. I could feel my lower lip quivering. I bit down on it to stop.

  “I was going to,” she said. “But before I could, I was told it wasn’t safe. That I was being watched. I had to pretend I hadn’t found you. And that I didn’t know where you were. To protect you.”

  She walked over to me, and I could see genuine sadness in her eyes. She was so exquisitely beautiful. Yet something was different about her. She almost seemed like she could be from another time.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t allow her to charm me. If that’s even what she was doing.

  “That doesn’t make a damn lick of sense,” I said. “And I’m not going with you. I don’t care who’s coming for me or why the hell they’d want anything to do with me. I’d never want anything to do with whomever left me to rot in Goose Creek. Never.”

  Virginia nodded. “I understand that. I respect it. But I know more than you know. And it’s my job to make sure you’re safe. So if you won’t go of your own free will, I will have to make you come with me. It’s not what I want to do though, just so we’re clear. I don’t ever want to make you do anything. But in this case, since it’s about your safety, I will be forced to.”

  Her eyes were pleading. “Do not make me do that, Briar. Please.”

  Why should I have shown her any mercy? Besides, I was curious how she’d ever make me go anywhere I didn’t want to go.

  Before I could say anything, she spoke.

  “It’s not about showing me mercy,” she said. “And if you’re curious to know how I can do it; I can show you.”

  Before I could ask her how the hell she could know what I was thinking, everything went black.

  Chapter 5

  There was something pulling me to the bridge.

  A song between a melody and an odd sort of chanting.

  Part of me knew I needed to resist it, but I kept walking anyway. Something deep within me was trying its best to stop me, but I was powerless. I had to keep going.

  I had to do what they told me to do.

  No one around me seemed to hear it. The beckoning was meant only for me. I was alone on this journey.

  As usual.

  The walk was long. When I reached the path to the bridge off East Bay, I stopped for just a moment to stare up at the magnificent Ravenel Bridge. It was white and glorious, towering above the harbor and the calm waters of the Cooper River.

  I kept going.

  I pushed my way past moms with strollers, and joggers with ear buds. A couple slowly meandered hand in hand up the concrete path in front of me. I shoved my way between them, annoyed at their existence. They were in my way.

  That wouldn’t do.

  I ignored their frustrated yelps, and marched on. The song was louder now. It was waiting for me in the middle of the bridge, where the path was at its highest above the river.

  When I finally got there, I noticed a small crowd of people watching something— or someone. Their faces were fearful and yet fascinated about what they were witnessing.

  I saw a girl with hair so blonde it was white talking to someone else. That someone looked like they were on the other side of the barrier that kept people from falling from the bridge.

  The blonde seemed to be pleading to the person in front of her, who I could now see was a young woman.

  Now I understood why everyone was afraid. This person was on the other side of the barrier. She looked like she was about to jump.

  The song had stopped.

  I was frozen in terror as I watched her back that was turned to me. There was something familiar about her and suddenly I realized how important it was for me to stop this.

  Before I could say a thing, she turned to look at the crowd.

  I gasped.

  Her face. Her long, tangled brown hair. Of course she was familiar.

  She was me.

  I woke up with a start, my skin flushed and my heart pounding. The beginning of a scream was on my tongue, but once I realized I’d only been dreaming, I suppressed it.

  Now I was just confused. Where the hell was I?

  I quickly rolled back in my mind to the last thing I remembered. It was Virginia Embers in my home, telling me she could make me do what she wanted, but that she didn’t want to. Somehow she’d seemed to read my thoughts.

  I shook my head. That was ridiculous. Maybe I’d just said them out loud. The memory was fuzzy on the edges, like I couldn’t completely rely on it.

  I sat up to take in my new surroundings. I was in a large bed, covered in a plush comforter. I was still wearing the same clothes I’d been wearing at the house. I seemed to be all in one piece. No pain, no hangover either. I figured Virginia must’ve drugged me somehow. Otherwise I wasn’t sure how any of this was possible.

  If I’d known any better, I’d be frightened. But somehow I wasn’t. Part of me was relieved that someone actually wanted me this badly. It had never happened before. I wasn’t used to being taken.

  So, weirdly, being kidnapped was kind of nice.

  The room I was in didn’t seem like a cell anyway. It had a large window and even a cushioned window seat. I slowly stood up and padded over to it, to see where I was.

  The sun was setting outside, but it was clear I was still downtown, just in some other house. I couldn’t tell where exactly, but at least it wasn’t far from my own home.

  I sat down on the cushioned seat and turned to look at the rest of the room.

  The furniture was modern. The bed I’d been sleeping in was a platform bed, low to the floor. There was a sleek night table beside it and a hope chest at the end, plus a shaggy white rug in the middle of the pinewood floors and what looked like a small half bathroom in the corner. Art hung on the walls, but nothing I recognized. Not that I’m even close to a
ny kind of art expert, but I could tell these pieces were the real thing, and not prints. I could see the brush strokes when I gave them a closer look.

  The room felt and looked very expensive.

  I walked over to the door and fiddled with the handle. Sure enough, it was locked from the outside.

  So it was a cell; albeit a very nice one.

  I sighed and plopped back down on the bed. I had closed my eyes for about three seconds when the door suddenly flew open, making me jump.

  “Hello!” a voice said.

  I was surprised to hear someone who wasn’t Virginia. I’d assumed she’d be the only one coming to see me.

  A tiny little wisp of a woman walked in, carrying a covered food tray.

  “Didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, a smile crossing her face. “I just figured you must be hungry, so when I heard you walking around up here, I thought ‘Fiona, it’s time you feed this poor girl! She’s had quite the day!’ So here I am. Do you like Brunswick stew?”

  I stared at her a moment, saying nothing.

  I could smell the stew. And truth be told, I was starving.

  “Yes,” I said. “Where the hell am I? And where’s Virginia? You know you’re an accessory to this… kidnapping. It’s a felony. Even rich people don’t get away with kidnappings.” I swallowed hard, realizing I wasn’t so sure of this.

  I was pretty sure rich people got away with whatever they wanted. Especially in Charleston.

  Fiona looked at me, her eyes wide.

  “Kidnapping? Oh, I see. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but you’ll eventually understand it was for your own good, child. There wasn’t time to convince you of the danger you were in,” Fiona replied. She carried the tray over to a table in the corner of the room. “But still, I can imagine you’re still very angry, rightfully so. I am sorry about that. I can assure you, you haven’t been kidnapped.”

  “Oh really?” I said. “So I can just walk out that door right now? And nothing will happen?”

  Fiona paused for a moment. “Oh. Well. No, you can’t leave. That wouldn’t be allowed. But again, it’s for your own safety. Would you like dinner rolls?”