The Bitches of Everafter: A fairy tale (The Everafter Trilogy Book 1)

by Barbra Annino

  Robin wished he had worn his hat. He felt more authoritative with his hat. “A misunderstanding,” he said.

  Tink’s face was red as she said, “Not true! You were fired. I was there.”

  Aura crossed her arms. “Really?”

  Robin felt a throbbing in his eye where Tink had tried to gouge it out, and his ear stung where she had bitten him. He tried to look assertive, but he was pretty sure he just looked like the victim of a car crash.

  Tink said, “Yepper. I’m taking over now. The judge said.” She stuck her chin out and crossed her tiny arms.

  Aura laughed. “Okay, Tinker Toy.” She looked at Snow. “This should be interesting.”

  Snow’s mouth was set into a somber line. She was looking at Robin with an intensity he hadn’t detected from the raven-haired woman during their first encounter. She looked almost....regal.

  It intrigued him.

  Aura glanced from Robin to Snow, then nudged her.

  Snow lurched, recovered, and said in a demure voice, “Why don’t you come inside. I can patch you up.”

  Robin met her eyes, softer now. Her lips relaxed into a welcome smile. As if there were two personalities behind her face.

  He looked at Aura. She gave him a sly smile. “Princess here is more of a lover than a fighter.” She winked.

  Robin cleared his throat. “I appreciate that, Miss White, but I think I’ll just be running along now. See to it you all make it to therapy.” He looked at Tink, pointed. “I’ll be having a word with your boss, Missy.”

  Tink scoffed at him.

  For good measure, Robin added, “And Doctor Bean.”

  As Tink’s face drained of all color and her grin fell, Robin couldn’t help but feel a little smug that he had gotten in the last jab.

  He got back into his car, started it up, and backed away from the women who seemed hell bent on torturing him.

  As he drove down the street, he ventured a look back. The beautiful face of Snow White stared at him through the rearview mirror—her posture poised, her demeanor unshakable. She had the look of a woman who had lost something and was determined to get it back.

  Robin had seen that look before. That resolve. He couldn’t recall when or where, but he knew one thing.

  It made him uneasy.

  27

  Everyone Has a Demon

  Jack Bean was not a nervous man. On the contrary, he prided himself on being completely composed at all times. But as he twisted and re-knotted his tie, he felt a bit of that confidence slipping, and he wasn’t certain why until he looked at his notes. Today was the day he would be treating Miss White for the first time.

  The woman had an eerie effect on him when last he saw her and it seemed that now, as he was preparing for the group session, she had grabbed hold of him once again.

  Why was that?

  He had never, in all his professional career, been so intrigued by a patient.

  What was it about her?

  It couldn’t just be that she was beautiful. All the women in Granny’s house were striking. No, it was more than that. He had felt a connection to her. This, of course, was absurd because Jack wasn’t connected to anyone and he liked his life that way. He found that people, and especially relationships, were messy and complicated. They caused pain, and Jack was not a fan of pain.

  This was why Jack had devoted his life to helping others. As long as one kept a human connection, through work, volunteering, or some creative endeavor, one still contributed to the betterment of society—still hung on to the thread that is humanity. And surely that was a greater contribution than love.

  Not that Jack had ever known love. At least none that was lasting.

  In Jack’s experience, both personally and professionally, abandonment was something the soul found difficult to overcome. Addiction, guilt, betrayal, even abuse—these are hallmarks of the human condition that can be built upon and repaired. But abandonment was hard to resolve, because it cannot be accessed from the psyche. It doesn’t come from within the mind, but from deep inside the heart. People are conditioned from a young age to seek outside connections, approval, validation. Belonging. And when that is ripped away, it leaves a gaping hole in the very core of a person. One that Jack has helped others fill through his tireless work with some success. Although, if he were to be honest, he had not the patience to fill his own.

  Which was one more reason he should keep a safe distance from Snow White.

  He gave up on his tie altogether, and reminded himself that above all he was there for his patients, not himself.

  The chirp of the women entering the therapy room infiltrated his office. He grabbed his notebook, opened the door, and stepped out to greet his patients.

  Before the others joined them to walk to group therapy, Snow and Aura had discussed what they were going to do about Granny, Cindy’s shoes, and Bella’s nemesis—a sinister anthology that when read all the way to the end, sucked the reader into the twisted tales. The stories between the pages were the stuff of nightmares and it was through the loyalty and fierceness of Beast that she had survived her story at all. In fact, Bella had encountered Beast within the very pages of that storybook. He had been trapped there too, by an evil stepbrother who wanted to steal Beast’s castle. Beast (whose given name was Bo) took cover in the shape of a terrifying creature the size of a small pony, with paws like a mountain lion’s and a head like a gargoyle. Snow had no idea if the dog living in Granny’s house was indeed Bella’s Beast. She hoped not for his sake, but she suspected if he was, they would need a great deal of magic to expel him from his canine prison.

  Since Bella’s community service was reading to the elderly, Snow wondered if perhaps she already had encountered the book. Was it in Bella’s possession? But if that were true, surely she would have read it, or at least touched it, for Bella couldn’t resist the written word. And if she had read it through to the end, she wouldn’t be here.

  Aura pointed out that Bella didn’t seem any different and Snow agreed that was true. Even if Snow’s theory—that a simple two hand touch of the object of her story would jolt Bella’s memory as the apple had done with Snow’s—Bella would have most likely confided in them. Or at least Snow.

  Wouldn’t she?

  As they strolled along the sidewalk, Bob hopping alongside Punzie, Snow also thought about the long-haired princess’s story nemesis. That would be harder to find. In her story, Punzie had been sentenced to solitary confinement by an evil queen who wanted her daughter to marry Prince Ashford. But Ashford loved Punzie. Had ever since they were children. Eventually he found her, and together they escaped the tower.

  The queen was never heard from again.

  Now, as the five princesses walked the streets of Everafter to meet with Jack, Snow paid special attention to the buildings along the route. Some of the Victorian homes dotting the landscape were designed with turrets, but nothing like the tower where Punzie had been imprisoned. There was an art gallery, featuring a painting of a leaning tower called Pisa, but that didn’t come close to the monstrous place of Punzie’s story. As they climbed the stairs of the community center, Snow wondered if perhaps Punzie’s place of business hosted her story demon. She had never been there, of course. Maybe that’s where they would find it.

  Snow felt, deep inside her heart, that all of them needed to find their story horrors if they were ever to gain back their rightful thrones.

  And that’s when it hit Snow.

  “The writer!” she said. Of course! He knew their biographies inside and out, top to bottom, word for word. Better than even the princesses themselves knew them. And he had, in fact, been the one to draw up the treaty for the United Kingdoms of Enchantment. Perhaps, if they could locate him, he might be able to lead them to Punzie’s tower. Maybe even Bella’s book. Or at least offer clues as to how to locate the objects of their stories.

  That is, of course, if he was here, in Everafter. “And if he’s still an ally.”

  Snow didn’t rea
lized she’d spoken aloud until Jack closed the door behind them.

  “No. Just a doctor, I’m afraid,” he said.

  He smiled at her, his spectacles slightly slanted because one of his ears was a smidge higher than the other. His grin a bit lopsided, because he was a humble man. His legs, long and strong, covered in beige slacks that suited his calm demeanor, but not his climbing ability. And his hands. Oh, those hands that used to be slightly calloused after battle. Snow recalled rubbing them with soothing lotion in the late evening hours in her bedchamber. What she wouldn’t give now to feel those calloused hands run up and down her body.

  “Jack,” she whispered and all the world melted away save for the two of them.

  28

  Who's the Baddest Bitch of All?

  Aura stomped Snow’s foot and snapped her out of the daydream. Snow cleared her throat. “I mean, Doctor Bean.”

  Jack tilted his head, his lips parted as if to say something, but Cindy interrupted.

  “Can we get on with this please? I have shoes to try on.”

  The shoes were safely tucked away in Aura’s closet, guarded by Beast. She had lured him into the room with a bone as large as a tree trunk, so Snow was certain the dog would be happily chomping away for a while.

  Jack slapped his hands together. “Everyone, please take a seat.”

  They all filed further into the large room which resembled a gymnasium, complete with basketball hoops, balls of various sizes and colors, athletic mats, and the faint odor of gym socks. Each of the women chose a metal folding chair. They were arranged in a circle.

  Jack settled into his own chair and Snow sat across from him, hoping distance would still her thumping heart.

  Jack rested a clipboard on his lap, folded his hands and smiled at Snow.

  “Now then, Miss White. What we do here is fairly simple and informal. In fact, you may call me Doc—everyone does.” He removed his glasses. “This is a circle of trust.” He swept his arms out across the space. “Whatever you say within this circle stays between us. Right ladies?”

  Cindy rolled her eyes, Punzie snorted, and Bella yawned. Aura simply gave a nod.

  Jack clicked his pen, frowning just a bit. “Yes, well. Whenever we have a newcomer such as yourself, we begin the session by telling what brought us here. Everyone participates in this exercise so we’re all on the same playing field. So, Miss White, why don’t we begin with you? Would you care to tell the group about the trouble you found yourself in that brought you to this point in your life?”

  That was a loaded question if ever she had heard one. Good grief, if only she had the slightest idea what had brought her here—what had brought them all here—-or whom. Jack meant her crime, Snow knew, but she wasn’t too enthusiastic about delving into that tale either.

  She shuffled her feet. “Um... uh...” How could she tell Jack what she had done? She knew from their initial encounter that the details of her crime hadn’t been disclosed to him. She was to reveal them in group. Now. Out loud. She shuddered at the thought. What would he think of her if he knew what she had done? Would he ever look at her the same way again? Trust her? Love her?

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Cindy raised her perfectly manicured hand. “I’ll go first, Princess.” She stood up, straightening her pencil skirt and fluffing her hair. “After finding out that not only was my husband gay, but that he had been carrying on an affair with our driver, who happens to be my favorite employee, I got good and liquored up. Then I went to our house and cut out all the crotches from Trevor’s underwear. Wrote, I am a scum-sucking assface on the backs of all his favorite shirts, then called his mother and told him her son was boinking the help.” Cindy smiled at the memory. “That pissed her off more than the gay thing and the divorce.” She buffed her nails on her skirt.

  Jack shifted in his chair. “Go on, Cindy.”

  “Oh, right. So when Trevor got home, naturally he was upset and tried to deny everything, but I had proof. Someone had sent me pictures of the two of them.”

  Snow raised an eyebrow. Who would do such a thing? She wasn’t exactly a fan of Cindy, at least not the Everafter version, but to send pictures of an affair seemed beyond cruel.

  “So long story short, we got into an argument, someone called the cops, and just as I was about to knock Trevor on his ass, a policeman stepped in the way, took the punch, and well, here I am.” She bowed.

  Bella whistled, while Punzie and Aura clapped.

  Cindy took a seat, crossed her arms and smiled at Jack.

  Bella stood, the heels of her black boots scraping the floor. “My turn.” She wore jeans and a white tank top with a button-down shirt over it. She slipped the shirt off and draped it over the back of her chair.

  “As some of you know, I worked for what I thought was a perfectly respectable new and used bookstore.”

  This was news to Snow. She leaned forward, intrigued.

  “So one day, after devoting close to a year to this sweet old man and his failing business. After him telling me I don’t know how many times that I was the daughter he never had…” Her voice rose as she spoke. She began pacing, the heels of her boots stabbing the shiny wooden floor with every step. “After countless skipped lunches and a couple of pay cuts so he wouldn’t lose the store, after talking about literature all hours of the day and night, thinking I had a great gig going, do you know what happened?” Bella stopped, folded her arms. Her question seemed to be directed at Snow.

  “No,” Snow said.

  Bella gave her a wicked smile. “It was Monday and I was driving down Main Street on my way to open the bookstore. I had stopped to grab coffee first, one for me, one for Mr. Shithead. The weather was nice so the windows were down and the radio was playing a pop tune. I pulled up in front of the bookstore, and lo and behold, I saw a huge poster in the window of the place I considered my second home. The star of the poster was a mostly-naked woman with boobs bigger than my head, wearing a dog collar, tied to a fence, looking completely terrified while the man behind her leered.”

  Snow wrinkled her nose and inched back further in her seat, wishing there was a way to scrub that image from her mind. She shuddered.

  Bella said, “I know, right?” She sighed, ran her fingers through her dark waves and climbed onto the back of her chair. She perched there for a moment, her feet on the seat. Her voice was full of disgust when she spoke again. “It was an advertisement for the new line of sleazy magazines he’d decided to sell to drum up business.” She twisted her neck from side to side to look at the other women. “Now, I’m not a prude—I like erotica as much as the next chick, but I draw the line at a graphic publication titled “Sluts Who Need a Beating” with a centerfold that can only be described as a psychopath’s idea of a good time.”

  Snow could feel Bella’s pain. It practically leapt off her clothing and clamored around the room until it latched onto Snow. “What did you do?”

  Bella shrugged. “The only thing I could do.” She slid down and planted her backside firmly in the seat. She draped one bare arm across the chair back and said, “I put my foot on the gas and mowed down the storefront.” She grinned and winked.

  The grand gesture had never really been Bella’s style. Snow couldn’t help but be impressed. She also couldn’t help but think it odd that Bella hadn’t guessed her boss’s true nature. She had a knack for reading people. At least, back home she had.

  Punzie stretched and made a kind of cooing sound that turned into a full blown yawn. “Okay, I’ll go next.”

  Bob hopped out of the pocket of her trench coat as she stood, and up onto the back of her chair. Open-toed stilettos peeked out from beneath the coat and Snow figured Punzie was probably working a double shift today.

  Punzie said, “Being an exotic dancer is not an easy job. It’s exhausting, mentally and physically. Some days, I put up with a lot of crap.” She looked at Snow, a gleam in her eyes. “Some days, I don’t.” She wrapped her braid around her hand as if she were about to use it as
a jump rope. “So a couple weeks ago this guy comes in one night and he’s trying to distract me in the middle of my routine. He’s snapping his fingers, waving at me, and just generally being a royal pain in the ass.”

  Jack’s finger was propped on his temple, pen gently tapping his clipboard. He nodded.

  Punzie wrapped her braid tighter around her wrist. “Then my favorite regular comes in and wouldn’t you know it, he sits right next to the troublemaker. Naturally, I have to get close to him, so I shimmy on over there, open the micro shorts, and my regular inserts a bill. But before I can turn away, the asshole next to him jumps up and sticks his hand down my pants.”

  At this, Bob bounced on the chair, his bulging eyes glued to Punzie and filled with fury. It struck Snow that in that moment something about the frog seemed familiar.

  Punzie said, “I put that dickwad in a hair noose and banged his head on the stage a couple of times for good measure. Of course the cops didn’t arrest him for assault, because hey, I’m a stripper, right?” She practically shouted that last part before her voice cracked and she lowered her head.

  Snow felt a wave of sympathy for her former colleague. Of all the alternate lives of the five princesses in Everafter, Punzie’s had to be the most grueling. The most degrading, too, she supposed. Snow hated to see her in such a state. She hated to see them all in such a state.

  Whatever cruel fate or fiend has brought us to this, Snow vowed, will pay and pay dearly.

  Punzie flipped her braid over her back and retied the belt on her coat before she sat down next to Bob. She absentmindedly stroked his head, and he made a soft gurgling noise. “You know the funny thing is that he kept saying he was trying to ‘save me.’ From what, I don’t know. A life of sin, I guess.” Bob hopped into her lap and climbed up Punzie’s shoulder. She giggled to herself. “Grim. Yep, he sure had a grim night.”

  Jack gave Punzie a questioning look.