Rich Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  “It’s the dumbwaiter. Of course. You did it, babe.” Bastien squeezed my hand, and I was too relieved I hadn’t led us to a dead end to pull out of his grip. He took a knife from his belt and handed it to Madigan. “Take this, so it doesn’t drop.”

  My nose scrunched. “You’re not going. That door’s barely big enough for me.”

  “You’re not going,” he scoffed. “It’s a drop you’d never survive.”

  “And you would? I said I’m going.”

  Bastien shrugged. “Fine. But where you go, I go.”

  I blinked at him, unsure where this stubborn loyalty came from. When I wanted to be close to him, he pushed me away, but now that I was keeping him at a distance for his own good, I couldn’t shake his shadow. “You can’t be serious. You’ll never fit.”

  “Then I’ll break the wall!” he retorted, raising his voice. His eyes weren’t angry, but worried. “I’m serious, Daisy. I’m not leaving you to shimmy up a dark shaft alone. I’m supposed to keep you safe.”

  I let out a long breath and placed my hand on his chest to calm his anxiety. “I appreciate the offer. Really. It’s very sweet. But it’s not your job to keep me safe. You’re not my Guardien.”

  It was like I’d slapped him just by stating the obvious. I had a hard time getting a read on the guy.

  Link flinched, like the verbal chastising stung him, too. “Jays, you’re a cold one. Do ye think it’s every day an Untouchable offers to chain himself to another person?”

  I tried not to get distracted by the way the two Untouchables said “jeez”, and focused on the matter at hand. “He didn’t want the job before. Nothing’s changed. I’m looking out for him, Link. This is a big step he doesn’t even know that he wants to take. We can barely be in the same room for five minutes without fighting. Do you want your brother chained to someone he fights with all the livelong day? I make him miserable, and I don’t think you want that for Bastien.” I grew frustrated and stomped my foot on the ground. “This is all beside the point. I’m the only one who can fit up the shaft, so deal with it. Mad, could you keep watch by the stairs, and send away any soldiers that might come up here?”

  “Aye. Can ye go up without falling to your death? It’s a steep drop, Rosie.”

  I gulped, never having been a fan of heights. “I probably can.”

  Bastien groaned. “Oh, that makes me feel much better.”

  I ducked my head into the chamber, leaned forward and tugged on the cord to see if I could manually move the elevator box, so I could just hop on in. “Crap. It’s not moving.”

  “Dumbwaiters are controlled by the kitchen in our castles in Éireland. Keeps people from doing what we’re about to do, sneaking onto other floors.” Link crouched down to peer over my shoulder. “Jays, tha’s a long fall.”

  I gulped and willed myself not to look down a second time. I could feel the stale air wafting up at me, reminding me that one slip would equal a swift death. My hand trembled on the thick cord, but before I could freak out, Bastien’s arm wrapped around my waist, reeling me back in to rest against his firm body on the stone floor where we sat. “No,” he ruled. “I know you don’t like heights. It’s not worth it. We’ll find another jewel. This can be the one Morgan keeps for Province 1.”

  I steadied myself against him, indulging in the manly scent that soothed me when I was on the verge of freaking out. I meant to reach up and pat his cheek to calm his jumping heartbeats, but his lips caught my hand and planted a kiss in the center of my palm. My skin warmed around his affection. My fingers curled down his cheek, moving as slow as dripping candlewax, tracing lines like water droplets through his quarter-inch scruff.

  When my pulse finally calmed, I patted his arm and stood, hefting him up and motioning to the stairs where Link stood next to Madigan, gaping at us. “I’ve never seen Bastien with a lady before. I thought ye might die alone.”

  “Ah, Link. I know you’ll die alone, because you’ve already gone through all the women in Éireland.” Bastien moved toward his buddies to give Link a playful jab, and I took my opportunity. I moved quietly toward the small doorway and grabbed hold of the thick cord. I summoned all the courage I had in my bones as I leaned forward and let my feet leave the floor. I ignored Bastien’s cry, Mad’s anger and Link’s astonishment, and did my best to put one fist over the other.

  This wasn’t Bastien’s adventure; it was mine.

  I gripped the rope with my feet, kicking my shoes into the hallway I’d just abandoned so I could use my toes like a gorilla. I’m pretty sure one of them hit Bastien in the face, which only made him more furious. My dress was problematic, but I tried not to think about it while I climbed as high as I could. Focusing on the things that could pull you down to your death is never a good thing, I’ve found. Words to live by.

  I tried not to worry about the long drop. I pushed out of my head the echoes my movements and the guys made; they told me I was too high up for someone who didn’t so much love heights. I kept my lips pressed shut, muffling the noises of fear I couldn’t cut off completely. The shaft was dark, with a solitary light shining above me, beckoning me upward. My heart rose up in my throat, threatening to strangle me with anxiety I was unprepared for. This had seemed like such a solid idea at the time.

  I stuffed another whimper back down and tried to pep-talk myself through the climb with logic. I couldn’t abandon the jewel for another day. The coast was finally clear for a small window of time; I couldn’t pass on that.

  Bastien’s curt whispers echoed up at me, switching from ranting to offering up succinct words of encouragement. I could tell he was still pissed, but knew there was nothing for it now. My forearms shook as I hiked my body up the cord, my hands burning and my toes and fingers slickening with sweat. I recognized the patched dumbwaiter entrance in the wall, and knew I only had one more floor to go. I didn’t care anymore that I was letting out quiet whimpers of trepidation; I was doing it. I was actually facing my fear all by myself. Suck it, heights. I own you.

  When the light touched my arms, I nearly cried. My gut was screaming at me that this was the way, and that the jewel was near. When the light flooded my face, warming my icy panic, I realized I had no way to clear the two feet of space between the rope and the dumbwaiter entrance. The cord had no give, and I wasn’t about to risk a jump.

  I let out an audible sob when I saw a little lip jutting out from the top, no doubt to serve as the final stop when the dumbwaiter ventured up to the tallest tower. Morgan probably had the floor below’s entrance sealed after she stowed the gem in the tower, keeping it hidden and unreachable.

  My arm shook when I reached out to grab onto the lip, letting out terrified noises each time I missed. I heard Bastien whisper-shouting up to me. “It’s alright, Daisy. You’ve got this. Take a breath. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  I don’t know why I allowed his words to calm me. It’s not like he actually had me in any way that would be useful in keeping me from plummeting to my death. I don’t know how my fledgling feelings for him swelled beyond my control. Someone powerful and strong believed in my strength, and thought it was enough. Maybe, just maybe, it was.

  I let out a growl of distress and victory when I detached one hand from the cord and gripped the steel lip. Before I could calculate my fear, the rest of my body followed, and I swung my lower half into the small room that served as the tallest tower of my mother’s castle.

  24

  Baby Pictures

  I was expecting an empty hallway with maybe a jewelry box sitting in the floor for me to scoop up. I nearly lost my shiz when there was nothing there, until I remembered that the containers had been imbibed with an invisibility charm. My arms were trembling, and I tried not to lose myself to the adrenaline crash I knew would come after facing my fear of heights without a safety net.

  I wasted no time dropping to my knees and feeling around like a blind person. The room was lit only by the sun’s rays filtering through the narrow window, which didn’t
help me all that much when searching for invisible things. My hands felt along the floor, seeking out every inch of the cold stone surface until my fingers lighted on a container the size of a shoebox. I giggled nervously to keep myself from bursting into tears of relief.

  I felt like Indiana Jones, awaiting wonder and doom as I opened the wooden box. I gasped as a yellow citrine the size of a golf ball glittered out at me. It was circle cut, with the point sharp enough to slice a line down the stone wall. It was too breathtaking to be called gorgeous, too brilliant to be called merely a “precious” stone. It was in a class all its own, daring other jewels to live up to its decadence.

  My face pulled into a curious frown when I noticed there were other items in the box. There was a cursive script written across the inside of the lid, with a letter carefully scribed in the same penmanship tucked in the box. My heart pounded at being confronted with a letter I wanted to read, but couldn’t. Cursive was the worst. It was a totally useless skill, and a waste of the second grade. Cursive was impossible for me to decipher. I could usually make out enough letters of regular typeface to puzzle together a sentence or two, but if it was written in cursive? Forget about it. I battled with my nerves not to freak out. I didn’t know if the letter was important, but I knew I’d never get another chance to read it.

  With trembling hands, I folded the note and shoved it down the bust of my dress, judging it to be the best hands-free hiding place. I still had to shimmy back down the cord. I went to close the box, knowing I couldn’t take it with me without risk of falling.

  My gaze shifted when I noticed another piece of paper resting in the bottom of the box, sticking out beneath the black felt lining. Lips parted, I examined a detailed sketch of the woman who most certainly was Morgan, holding a baby next to Urien. Their shoulders were rolled back, looking regal and proud in the hand-drawn portrait. The black ink had browned in spots over time, but there we were – a family. My dad had shorter hair, like Bastien’s, and his eyes were equal parts kind and authoritative. He had broad shoulders and a raised chin that told me everything was going to be okay. He stood beside his wife, who looked… It was strange to see a slight smile on Morgan’s face as she held me, gazing out at the person who drew the portrait with poise and unmistakable perfection in her every feature. She looked like… me. Me, with a husband and a baby.

  I was captivated, unsure how much time passed while I gaped at the family moment I couldn’t remember. They no doubt assumed they’d have many more like this.

  I had no baby pictures. Not a one. Judah’s mom had whole albums of his first year of life – true story. I’d always wondered what I looked like as a baby, and there I was, round and smiley, trusting and innocent.

  I didn’t realize I’d started crying, but I knew I couldn’t sully the portrait with something as useless as tears. My fingers quaked as I folded the piece of perfection and pressed it to my heart inside my dress. The citrine was nudged uncomfortably between my breasts, which was turning out to be my go-to hiding place. The pointy end of the gem stabbed my sensitive flesh, detracting from its amazingness a little.

  It only dawned on me then that Bastien and Madigan were whisper-shouting at me, afraid that something bad had happened, now that I’d gone quiet. “I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold on a second,” I whispered down at them.

  I shook my hands and blew out a long breath, willing my grip to hold steady. I was proud of my legs that didn’t punk out on me as they wrapped around the thick cord. My thick thigh muscles built on the soccer field assured me that they wouldn’t fail me now. I slowly crept my way down, my dress hiking up with every inch I lowered myself, until my thighs were completely exposed to the dank air inside the shaft. The cord burned a line up the tender inside of my thighs, but it was worth the pain of the moment not to fall to my death. When my chest pressed to the cord, the citrine sliced my tender breast, drawing blood from my cleavage that made me gasp.

  When Bastien and Madigan reached out and grabbed onto my waist, I almost let go as instant relief flooded me. Luckily, I remembered to grip the cord until they dragged my lower half onto the stone floor.

  I let out a triumphant cry of elation, collapsing on the floor with Bastien when it dawned on me that I hadn’t died. “I did it! I made it all the way there, and didn’t fall once.”

  “Well, once is all it’d take, ye daft girl. I thought ye were supposed to be a princess or something. I’ve never seen a Daughter of Avalon do something tha insane.” Link scratched his head, staring up the shaft to judge the distance to the light. “I could probably make it up there.” He spoke the words like he was challenging himself.

  My mouth popped open, letting loose a giddy, crazy giggle that sounded more unhinged than joyful. “I did it, Bastien,” I declared, breathing in jumpy gasps, my sweaty back cooling on the cold stone of the floor.

  Bastien’s eyes were hard, his mouth in a tight line as he laid next to me, our eyes on the ceiling as I fought to calm my breathing. “You did. You shouldn’t have, but you did.”

  Pain came back to me as my adrenaline subsided. “Oh, man. That stings. Rope burn on my hands, feet and thighs.” I sat up, hiking my dress so I could rest the back of my hand to the inside of my left thigh in hopes of cooling the heated spot.

  Bastien’s breath quickened as he sat up next to me. His thumb moved to the angry red mark on my right thigh to soothe what ailed me. “You scared me, honey. You can’t do stuff like that.” He squeezed my sensitive inner thigh, turning my brain to mush.

  My legs shouldn’t have parted. My face should’ve turned away when his lips moved closer to mine. My mind should’ve had control over my body, but it didn’t. Bastien’s touch was lightning and feathers on my skin. His hand swept up and down over the heat, riling me up and making my breath come out in scared hiccups. I should’ve tugged my dress down to a decent level and crawled away from the temptation, but I gave in and fell for the seduction that set me on fire. His cool touch lit every nerve in my body, tearing the castle, Faîte, and the entire world with all of its problems away from me, so that I only saw and felt him – us.

  When Bastien’s trembling lips captured mine, I could taste every crazy thing about him. I could feel his fear that he’d almost lost me, and his hope that I would find my way back to his side. I tasted how lost he’d been without me to spar with and keep him on his toes. His massage on my thigh turned rough when I let his tongue into my mouth, brushing over mine in a light tease I knew I would never tire of.

  “We weren’t meant to be apart,” he said, his voice husky and earnest. “You shouldn’t have kept us apart for so long.”

  I kissed him again, vaguely catching an inkling that Mad and Link were moving silently past our hideously inappropriate display to give us a little privacy. “You shouldn’t have pushed me away,” I countered.

  “I’m done being stupid, and you’re done being angry.” He lowered me back to the cold stone floor, my hands falling limp on either side of my head in total surrender to the force of nature that was us. Bastien pressed his body down on mine, parting my aching and shaking thighs, and looping my left leg over his hip to claim as much of me as I made available to him. His caramel eyes burned into mine with passion and authority as he growled out a firm command. “Mine.” He sucked on my lower lip when I wanted him to crash his lips to mine and take away my higher brain functions. I didn’t want to think it through. I didn’t want to think at all. I wanted to feel. Bastien tore his lips away and whispered low in my ear, “Say it. Tell me that you’re mine.” He teased my neck with fire-laced kisses, knowing I wanted him to claim my mouth, but teasing me just to prove a point.

  I was his, or at least my body was convinced he was calling the shots.

  My pride couldn’t give Bastien the promise he needed, so instead I snatched at his collar, fisting the material to try and reclaim some of the control in the exchange. “Just kiss me, you jerk!”

  Bastien gave up on coaxing an admission out of me and crashed his lips to
mine, taking us higher than the tallest tower in the largest castle in all of Avalon.

  Our kiss was interrupted in the weirdest way possible. My fake fiancé cleared his throat, while Link gave Bastien a wedgie, and then smacked his butt. “Come now, kids. I thought we were trying to get as many jewels out as possible. There’ll be plenty of time for putting a baby in her later, Bastien.”

  That was the bucket of ice water I needed. “Ho! Yeah, no. Not cool. Sorry, guys. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  The corner of Mad’s mouth curled upward slightly. “It’s okay not to think every now and then. Just maybe put tha on hold until ye have the time to make a proper mess of each other.” He snapped his fingers at Bastien to wake him from his stupor. He hoisted us both up, but cried out, pointing to my breasts. “What happened to your bosom, Rosie? You’re bleeding like ye got attacked by Abhartach himself.”

  My cheeks were already crimson, but when I looked down, I forgot my embarrassment. “Oh, crap. Yeah, that’s all me.” I dug my hand down into my cleavage, smirking at Bastien’s gratuitous moan of lust. When I fished out the citrine, the whole bottom half was coated in my blood. I grimaced, pulling up the hem of my dress to wipe off the smears of red on the inside of my skirt. “Sorry about that. Careful, Mad. It’s pretty sharp.” I plopped the heavy stone into his palm, chucking him in the shoulder as I smirked at his astonishment. “Why don’t you take that to Lane out in the courtyard? That’s one down, and one to go. Link and Bastien, let’s see if we can’t find another.”

  25

  The Last Missing Jewel

  Turns out, boobs are total gushers when they get sliced, and the perfect gem can be just as sharp as a knife. Things you needed to know, right? The front of my dress looked like I’d been stabbed in the chest. The blood stained the fabric and made it the best Halloween costume ever.