by Kim Fox
Who are you kidding? Girls like me don’t get married and have a happily ever after. A happily ever after for me means not going to prison.
Camilla looked around as she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, about to pull it off. She jumped when she heard a sound beside the dumpster. “Who is that?” she asked, cocking her hands into fists and holding them in front of her face the way that Angela had taught her to.
A scruffy little puppy with gray matted fur and a white paw lunged out from behind the dumpster. He let out a cute little high-pitched bark at her as his tail wagged, swinging the whole back part of his body from side to side.
“Look at you,” she said, lowering down to get a better view. He was adorable with vibrant brown eyes and a white patch over his right eye that matched his left paw. He was so small that she could fit him in her backpack. “How long have you been out here?”
Camilla reached out to pet him and he snapped at her finger, biting down on it with his sharp little teeth.
“A fighter?” Camilla said, shaking out her finger. He hadn’t broken the skin. “I like you already.”
She laughed as the little guy tried to climb up onto a bag of garbage and then fell back down, rolling onto his back. He shook his head and growled at the bag before getting to his feet and trying again.
He was so cute that she felt like her heart was breaking. He was a stray and much too young to be out in the world alone but he seemed like he was doing his best to make his way. Surviving any way that he could. Doing whatever he had to.
The tiny scar on his nose showed that he had been in at least one fight. Probably with a mouse by the size of him. His matted fur showed that he had been out here for a while. This little scrappy puppy was a survivor. Like her.
Camilla pulled out a granola bar from her backpack and offered it to the puppy. He ran over and lunged at it, almost swallowing it whole. “Chew,” she said with a laugh, “or you’re going to choke.”
He was distracted and Camilla took the opportunity to pick him up and pet him. She was attached at once. “Do you want to stay with me?” she asked as he smacked his cute little jaws up and down.
“You don’t have a family and I don’t have a family,” she said, petting his little head. “What do you say we hitch our two messed up wagons together?”
The puppy finished the granola bar and looked up at her with wide, hungry eyes. He licked his chops with his long pink tongue. “More?” Camilla asked with a laugh. She pulled out another granola bar as the puppy sat in front of her and whimpered. She handed him another piece and smiled as she watched him devour it.
He reminded Camilla of herself. Tough, scrappy, and way too young to be out on the streets alone.
Camilla was only eleven years old when she began living on the streets. She had never met her father and her mother had been a heavy drug user. Her childhood home was a dirty one bedroom apartment that was a cesspool of drugs, cigarette ashes, rotting milk cartons, maggots, and abusive men who treated the place like a revolving door.
When her mother inevitably got evicted, she moved into her boyfriend’s place but he wasn’t about to welcome in a kid. Camilla’s mother had just shrugged and said, ‘you’ll figure it out,’ before closing the door of the mobile home in her face. Camilla had been hurt by her mother’s abandonment of her but she hadn’t been surprised. Her mom’s boyfriend had free drugs inside.
Camilla had found herself at eleven years old on the inner city streets of Atlanta with nothing but the ratty clothes on her back that were already too small and too thin. It still gave her shivers to think where her life would be if she hadn’t met Angela.
Angela was nineteen at the time and a master con artist who had been abandoned by her parents as well. She took Camilla under her wing, gave her a home, money, food, clothes, and taught her everything that she knew. They came up with a bunch of new scams and Camilla found herself good at something for the first time in her life.
“Never grow up, please,” Angela had said one time as they counted their score on the couch of her apartment. “People can’t resist your blonde hair and green eyes. Please stay eleven years old forever.”
But as Camilla grew up into a woman and her bra filled out, she found that it was easier than ever to take money from the hopeless suckers who were trying to impress a beautiful woman.
Her and Angela made quite the team. Whenever they walked by prostitutes working the corners of the city, they would hold up their noses and snicker. Those weak girls gave in so easily. But deep down Camilla knew that she would be right there beside them if she hadn’t run into Angela.
Sometimes she felt guilty during a con, especially when the people were very nice, which they usually were if they were handing over money, but she would just picture the girls on the corner with their strung out eyes, short skirts with the bruises on their legs, and cigarettes burning in their trembling fingers and the guilt would wash away. These people could handle missing a few bucks and even if they couldn’t it was still a price that she was willing to pay for not having to sell her body to creeps on the street.
Angela and her got so good at conning people that they were making five figures a month, and sometimes that much in a single day. And it was all tax-free.
They traveled from city to city, from state to state, and Angela was the only family that Camilla had.
And then she went to jail.
Angela had tried to rip off the wealthy son of a senator and the whole scam backfired in her face. The senator used his long list of contacts to make sure that Angela ended up in prison and that’s exactly what happened. She was a year and a half into a two-year sentence.
“More?” Camilla asked when the puppy kept whimpering at her, begging for more. “I’m all out but let me do a little job and then we can both eat steak for dinner.”
She slipped off her clothes and pulled the wedding dress on. This was a scam that she had been meaning to try for a while now and she had finally decided to do it when she found this wedding dress at a thrift store for ten bucks.
“How do I look?” Camilla asked the pup as she walked to a broken mirror that was leaning on the brick wall behind the barber shop. The pup ran over and attacked the frills at the bottom of her dress.
“You’re a scrappy one,” she said, pulling him off. “I like that. Your name is Scrappy from now on.”
The pup barked his approval.
She turned towards the mirror and sighed. A heaviness settled in her chest as her heart ached. She looked beautiful. Even with the spiderweb-like cracks snaking up through the mirror and the pile of garbage bags behind her.
Camilla wanted to rip the dress off, leave it in the dumpster, and just drive away out of this stupid town with all of the happy families walking around.
It was moments like this where all of her depressive realizations came crashing down on her, blurring her vision and making her throat scratch. She would never get married. She would never have a normal life.
Camilla pushed down her feelings, which she was an expert at, and glared at the reflection in the mirror. “Fuck all that. Families are for chumps. For marks. I don’t need that shit.” It was Angela’s words coming straight out of Camilla’s mouth.
“It’s time to make some money.”
She slipped Scrappy into her backpack, leaving the zipper open so that he could breathe, and walked back to the main road down the brick alleyway that was littered with garbage. “Wow,” she laughed. “World’s worst wedding aisle.”
It was early evening and the town wasn’t packed but there had to be somebody to get on the hook. She scanned the street looking for a single male. The uglier and more awkward the better, preferably someone with a nice car or expensive looking clothes.
She gasped when she saw a gorgeous, muscular man putting bags into a pickup truck. He had brown hair combed to the side, with the sides shaved, and a short beard that made her knees weak. His arms were jacked and the sleeves of his shirt wrapped tight around them. Lucky sl
eeves. I’d like to wrap my arms around those biceps.
“Not a good mark,” Angela would say if she had been there beside her instead of in some cage in Texas where she was now. “Too good looking. You need someone who doesn’t get a lot of female attention.”
Camilla took a deep breath and was off. What does she know anyway? She’s in jail.
“Excuse me!” she called out to the tall handsome man with the broad shoulders. He turned around and Camilla almost stopped in shock when she saw how brilliantly brown his eyes were. She pushed on, swallowing hard. “Can you please help me?”
four
Royal packed all of the food and beer that he bought into the back of the pickup truck and shut the trunk. He felt bad for storming off earlier so he was going to make it up to the boys with some steak, beer, and lobsters. As soon as they saw what was in the trunk he’d be as good as forgiven.
“Excuse me!” a woman yelled. He saw her waving at him from across the street out of the corner of his eye.
Royal’s mouth dropped open as his heart pounded and his breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful in her white wedding dress that was flowing out behind her. She was completely stunning.
But taken.
“Can you please help me?” the gorgeous blonde bride asked as she held up her dress and ran across the street towards him. Her eyes were a spectacular shade of green that should only be found in the beautiful depths of the rainforest. Her blonde curls framed her gorgeous face and Royal gulped as she stared directly at him.
That’s one lucky guy who’s marrying her. Wherever he is.
“Can you please help me?” she repeated when Royal was too stunned to answer her. “I really need your help.”
Royal swallowed hard. “Of course,” he said, ready to do whatever the curvy bride asked of him. Her fluffy dress was hiding her delicious curves but he could tell by her ample breasts and thick shoulders that she had the wide thighs and waist to match. It was exactly how he liked his women: heavy and broad with a solid body to grab onto.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, stepping towards her.
She was biting her lip while darting her eyes around the street, never settling on a person or object for long. She was taking deep breaths in an effort to stay calm but she looked terrified like someone was going to come snatch her up at any second.
“I have to get out of here before they come back,” she said between rasping breaths.
“Who?” Royal asked stepping towards her, feeling a protective instinct come over him. He puffed out his chest and flexed his arms as he surveyed the street, looking for any form of threat to the beauty in front of him. His years in the military had honed his senses until they were razor sharp but there didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary on the quiet street. But Royal also knew that could change in an instant.
The bride grabbed his bicep and squeezed it. “There’s no time to explain,” she said, her muscles tense and her posture rigid. “Can you get me out of here?”
Royal’s arm was tingling under her touch. He felt flooded with a warmth as he craved to be touched by her some more. She’s getting married, he had to remind himself. Or she already is.
“Aren’t you getting married?” he asked, glancing down at her dress. It was a little bit wrinkled but she looked fantastic in it. She had a backpack over her shoulders which looked strange and Royal could smell a dog inside. What is going on with this girl?
She let go of his arm and he stiffened as her hand fell down to her side. He immediately got a strong craving to be touched by her again. She turned away from him and looked around in panic. “I have to get out of here,” she said in a tense voice.
“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands to try and calm her down. “You’re okay now. Just come with me.”
He hurried to the passenger side of the truck and she followed on his heels. The terrified woman didn’t even wait for him to invite her in. She just yanked open the door and jumped in the truck.
“Oh, thank you,” she said, craning her neck to look around the street as Royal hurried over to the driver’s side and climbed in. “Please start driving.”
Royal bit his lip and started the engine. He glanced around one last time at the quiet sidewalks before taking off down the road.
The woman exhaled long and hard as Royal pulled out of town. She rested the back of her head on his seat and closed her eyes, breathing in long stressful breaths.
She was beautiful and Royal almost ran off the street as he focused on her gorgeous face rather than on the road.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked when she didn’t say a word.
She exhaled as she opened her brilliant green eyes. “I am,” she said with a sniff. “But I don’t want to drag you into it. You’ve already been so brave and helpful. It could be dangerous for you.”
Royal tightened his grip on the wheel. If this girl was in danger than he was going to protect her. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt this beauty and it made him sick to his stomach to think that there was someone out there like that. Well, they wouldn’t be out there for long. Royal clenched his jaw. I’ll make sure of that.
“I’ll help you,” he said, locking eyes on her. Her trembling lips curled up into a stunning smile and Royal suddenly felt lightheaded.
“Really?” she asked in a sweet little voice. “It’s nice to know that there are still some good guys out there.” She placed her hand on his and Royal felt his heart skip a beat.
He turned back to the road and took a deep breath. “So, what happened?”
She laughed a sad laugh. “You’re not going to believe me,” she said, shaking her head. “But I’m actually a princess.”
Royal’s jaw dropped. He just stared at the dusty road ahead of him as his mind raced. He was breathless and felt so weightless that he worried he was going to float out of his seat and fly out of the open sunroof.
“A princess?” he asked in disbelief.
“I know it sounds stupid,” she said, running her hand through her thick, curly hair. “But it’s true. I’m the daughter of the king of Grumerland. I’ve been in hiding here in America since our bloody civil war ripped my country apart.”
Royal nodded his head, enraptured by the beauty’s words. He had never heard of Grumerland but he wasn’t too caught up on his geography. It sounded like it was up in Europe somewhere near Denmark and Sweden. That would explain her blonde hair.
“My father, the king,” she went on as she rubbed her palm on her dress over and over again. The poor girl was terrified. “He’s trying to marry me off to a royal family member in Kuwait. They’re going to ship me over there and I’ll be his slave. Prince Asaad is a cruel, cruel man with over twenty wives and he beats them all.”
Royal hissed in a breath and tensed up as he pictured what he would do to this Prince Asaad guy if he dared come near this princess. The princess who was now under his protection.
“Why would your father do that?” he asked.
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “He wants to secure a trade deal with Kuwait to get their oil at a discounted rate. I’m the only thing that the prince wanted.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Princess…”
“Elsa,” she said, holding out her hand. “Princess Elsa.”
“Just like the Disney movie Frozen,” Royal said, shaking her hand.
“Oh,” she said, looking up at the roof of the truck. “I never noticed.”
“I’m Ivan,” he said, smiling at her. He couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he would come across a real live princess in the middle of Colwood, Montana right when he needed to find a mate? It must be fate.
Royal never believed in fated mates before but all of the evidence was right in front of his eyes.
He bit his lip wondering how he could tell her that he had royal blood as well without her getting upset and thinking that he was making fun of her.
“Are they looking for you?” he as
ked.
Elsa jerked her head back, looking out the rear window with panicked eyes. “They must be. My father won’t stop until I’m enslaved to that monster, or until I’m dead.”
Heat flushed through Royal’s body and his pulse sped up just from thinking about it.
“You can stay with me,” Royal said. Forever.
“That’s so sweet,” she said. “But it’s too dangerous. I can’t put you at risk like that.”
“Nonsense,” Royal said, speeding the truck up as fast as his pulse was racing. “I can help.”
Elsa placed her hand on Royal’s forearm and traced little circles with her thumb. The hairs on his arms raised as he was flooded with desire. “If you want to help me,” she whispered. “There is a way.”
“Anything,” he said, leaning in to listen.
She breathed in, hesitating. She looked so unsure.
“You can trust me,” Royal said, looking at her with serious eyes.
“I do,” she said, sliding her palm down his arm to the back of his hand. She squeezed it and smiled. “I don’t know why but I do.”
“What do you need?”
She sighed. “My family is very rich,” she said, staring out the windshield with blank eyes. “They left me a huge fortune but I can’t access it without paying the bank fees.”
“No problem,” Royal said, slipping out his wallet. “How much do you need?”
Elsa flicked her gorgeous blonde hair back, showing off her soft neck. “It’s going to be more than in your wallet.”
“Well, how much?”
“I have forty-six million dollars in cash waiting for me in an unmarked bank account,” she explained, “but it costs about fifty thousand dollars in bank fees to access it.”
Royal exhaled long and hard. He barely had five thousand dollars. He had just given over his life savings to Thorn to help pay for the cabins, barn, and livestock for their new ranch.
“You’ll get it back right away,” she promised. “As soon as I get the fifty grand I can access the bank account and give you your money back plus a little extra for being so nice and helping me out.”
