by Logan Fox
God, she wasn’t cut out for lying.
The phone had gone back to its lock screen. Luckily, Seth didn’t seem to have a password on the thing. She hadn’t even thought about that when she’d planned this impromptu heist.
Pearl went into the phone’s call history, and almost pressed Greg’s number again. Her eyes widened.
Call history. She had to get his number off the log. What if Seth—
A white block popped up.
Battery low.
Her eyes flashed up to the small battery icon. There was less than a sliver of color left.
Shit.
“How do I erase the call history?”
“Oh, it’s easy.” Tina snatched the phone away from Pearl. “I had one of these a while ago. You just…” her voice trailed away as the girl began working the phone. Pearl leaned forward, amazed at how fast the girl’s pink-tipped thumb moved through the phone’s menu system.
“Sherbet,” the girl murmured. “Battery’s real low.”
“I know. That why you have to—”
The phone died.
In the sudden darkness, she couldn’t see Tina’s expression.
“Tina?”
“Uh…” The girl let out a long breath. “I think it worked. I like literally just pressed delete before it—”
Footsteps interrupted them.
Footsteps?
Footsteps!
Pearl grabbed hold of Tina’s wrist and yanked the girl after her. The lights in the stairs came on. The footsteps grew louder.
“—goes the weasel,” came a soft murmur from the top of the stairs. Someone was coming down. Someone who didn’t care how loudly their feet slapped on the tiles as they descended. Someone who, at three in the morning, was humming nursery rhymes under their breath.
Somehow, Pearl didn’t have to see Tanner’s bare feet to know it was him. His voice had identified him, but so had the ridiculousness of his presence — now, here.
A pause, and the song started up again. Just humming this time, but the words arrived in Pearl’s head as if by magic.
All around the mulberry bush…
Pearl had urged Tina around the curve of the stairs, but they’d both frozen when the lights had come on, like a rabbit hypnotized by a semi’s headlights on a nowhere road in the middle of the night.
Slap, slap, slap went Tanner’s bare feet.
Pearl realized she was gripping Tina’s hand.
Slap, slap, slap.
Tina squeezed her just as tight, both holding their breath.
The monkey chased the weasel…
A pause in the song, as if Tanner was trying to remember the next verse of the rhyme. Pearl sure as shit couldn’t remember it right then, either.
Something something something something…
A happy exhalation, followed by the shrill warble of a cellphone ringing.
Slap, slap, slap.
The rustle of clothing. Pearl’s shoulders tried to dig their way through the clay wall. Tanner had stopped at the landing, less than six feet away from where Tina and Pearl had fused to the wall.
Tanner jerked his phone from his pocket, squinted at the screen, and sighed. He answered it with a swipe of his finger.
“On my way, you fucker.” The phone went back in his pocket. Tanner started down the hallway headed — possibly — for Caden’s apartment.
In Pearl’s head, the last line of the rhyme sang itself with overbearingly childish enthusiasm.
Pop goes the weasel!
5
Fucking Up
They’d crept back inside Seth’s room. They’d returned the phone to his nightstand, withstanding more heart-clanging moments of sheer panic when Seth rolled over in his sleep, sat up, and drank down his water in big, noisy gulps.
Luckily, in the pitch blackness, he hadn’t noticed the two shivering lumps beside his bed.
Outside in the hallway, Tina made a relieved sound in the back of her throat as Pearl led her back to the brightly lit staircase. They only spoke again when they were on the ground level of the villa.
“That was amazeballs!” Tina swooned against the wall, the back of her hand theatrically pressed to her forehead. “What a rush.”
“You’re a fucking weirdo,” Pearl muttered. When Tina cast her a sulky look, she shrugged. “But thanks for coming with.”
“So what now?” Tina asked, trailing a foot behind Pearl as they crossed the library.
“Bed,” Pearl said, hoping the insistence in her tone could be processed by Tina’s void-for-brains.
“I mean, what’s Greg going to do? What if he phones back on that number?”
Pearl’s footsteps slowed. Tina bumped into her shoulder, but she hardly felt it.
What if he phoned back on Seth’s number?
He’d been dumb enough to come here in the first place, asking after her virtue like some time-travelling squire lusting after a sword on his shoulder.
Then another, equally horrifying, thought struck her.
What if he’d written her off after her performance? What if he’d said, ‘Fuck it,’ and would never return her call at all?
Or what if he couldn’t make any sense of the message, dismissed it as randomness, and she never heard from him again?
She felt tears pricking at her lids. As if sensing her mood, Tina slipped an arm over her shoulder, pressing her hips against Pearl’s.
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll get out of here. We won’t be anyone’s mule, okay?”
Pearl shook her head, but she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“Look, I got to get back,” Tina said. “Ethan kinda grounded me, so if he goes into my room and sees I’m not there…”
Pearl nodded again, glancing over her shoulder as the library’s midnight shadows swallowed the girl. The keycard felt too heavy in her pocket, its square shape too rigid. Her eyes found the darkened arch of the phone room, fixed to it.
One call. The police, 911, whoever. They’d know she’d called, but would they be able to persuade law enforcement that it had been a prank?
How would they explain her disappearance? Because it would only take one call, she knew, before someone came for her in the middle of the night, bundled her up, and disposed of her.
The troublemaker.
Pearl shook her head, jarring loose a pair of tears, and hurried back to the den. Her bedroom door was closed but she didn’t even notice, so caught up was she in the furious machinations of her own dismal thoughts.
Until she twisted the handle. Until a bright light made her eyes slide into slits.
Her and Gia’s room glowed; they’d obviously turned up the little stars in the ceiling to their max setting.
Tanner leaned against the edge of the partition dividing her side of the room from Gia’s. From where she stood, frozen and gaping on the threshold of the bedroom, she could see both halves of the room — no longer mirror images.
Her mattress was on the floor. Gia’s had been shoved up against the wall. Their sheets were tangled over the foot of the dark, wooden sleigh beds.
Both their closets stood open, yellow fabric spilling to the floor in big, messy heaps.
Tanner’s two bodyguards, marble-like faces showing not a hint of emotion as they ransacked the place, moved through the room with quiet determination.
“Under the bed, Roscoe,” Tanner called out.
Gia had squeezed herself into the corner of the room, her blond hair bedraggled, her blue eyes wide, her pale face streaked with tears.
No one had seen her yet, had they? Pearl took a step back, her feet wooden under her, her teeth clicking together. Her hand slid into her pocket, acting on an instruction her addled brain was no party to. Her fingers closed around the slick keycard. She slid it out of her pocket, took another jarring step backward, and shoved her trembling hand down the front of her underwear.
Her back slammed into something solid.
Seth.
How?
“What the fuck is—” Seth’
s rumble cut off as Tanner lifted a limp, imperious hand.
“Ssh,” the man said, his grey eyes narrowing as he twisted his head in their direction. He fixed on Pearl, cocked his head, and gave her a slow, cold smile. “Wandering around unsupervised again, you little stray?”
He pushed away from the partition with his shoulder, straightening casually as he ambled toward her.
“Tanner, what—”
Tanner’s eyes flicked past Pearl, and again Seth cut off. A pair of large hands wrapped around Pearl’s shoulders, holding her tight as Tanner approached.
“We’ve had a security breach. Seems someone was roaming around unattended, getting up to all sorts of mischief.”
Tanner’s grey eyes found her again, fixed on her with the intensity of the noon day sun.
“Wouldn’t happen to know anything about this would you, baby girl?”
Pearl managed to shake her head.
“So you were…” Tanner trailed away, coming to a stop less than a foot from him.
“Bathroom.” Pearl cleared her throat. “I was in the bathroom.”
“Pretty sure we checked the bathroom,” Tanner said slowly, his eyes sliding down Pearl’s body.
She’d slid her fingers out from behind the waistband of her sweats, but had he noticed? Had he seen that twitch of movement as he was turning to face Seth?
Tanner’s hands darted out. He grabbed hold of the front of her throat with enough force to drive her into Seth’s block of a body.
“Hey!” Seth knocked away Tanner’s hand, his arm wrapping around Pearl’s chest as he lumbered backward with her, dragging her after him.
Pearl cried out, off balance and overwhelmed by the flash of panic that hand over her throat had speared through her.
“You’ve got it, haven’t you?” Tanner’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Strip.”
Tanner’s hand shot forward again, but Seth’s fingers closed over his wrist with a slap. Those piercing grey eyes flashed up, anger contorting Tanner’s facial muscles in a brief, vivid dance. Just as quickly, the billionaire smoothed his features, those eyes widening, his lips tugging into an amused smile.
“Fine. You do it. Either way, I’m making sure that card isn’t on her.”
“What card?”
Maybe it was just her proximity to the man’s chest, or the fact that she stood right under his chin, but his voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it.
Tanner lifted his chin. “Check her.”
Seth made an angry sound in the back of his throat, but Tanner spun on his heel, dismissing them with a twitch of his head.
“You check under the bed? And that one?” Tanner stabbed a finger at Gia’s side of the room. “This one’s notoriously messy. No, Roscoe, I don’t give a shit about your dust-bunny phobia. You fucking get under there and check.”
Seth turned Pearl around. The edges of the keycard dug into the top of her inner thighs, but she tried her hardest not to squirm under Seth’s concerned, black gaze.
“Kitten?” Seth murmured down to her.
“I don’t have it,” Pearl whispered up to him. “I don’t know what he’s—”
“Hush. Spread your arms.”
So Pearl did, her fingers quivering at the end of trembling arms. Seth ran his hands over the top and bottom of her arms, her waist, the small of her back. Those meaty palms traced the curve of her ass, the back of her thighs.
Pearl closed her eyes. She hitched once, unexpectedly, trying to stifle a sob.
She was going to die.
They were going to off her, weren’t they?
Another broken, dampened sob escaped her.
Seth straightened hurriedly, his hands less than an inch from her sex, from that rigid, damning keycard.
“Pearl? Hey, it’s okay, kitten.”
But Pearl couldn’t hold back the tears. The shock of finding her room torn apart, of Tanner’s anger — even more horrifying because she knew, she just fucking knew that he’d been trying to keep himself in check — it destroyed her.
She collapsed against Seth’s chest, heaving huge, racking sobs into his beard as he embraced her, squeezed her. He was murmuring down to her, but she couldn’t make out the words over her own howling sobs.
Something brushed the back of her head, tangling in her hair. Before Pearl could react, Seth dragged her to the side, arms tightening around her until she gasped for breath. She twisted her head back, watching wide eyed as Tanner took a step back, his hands lifting, palms up.
“You keep her quiet, Roscoe, or you’ll be the next out the door.”
Pearl slapped her hands over her mouth, barely stifling another sob. Seth stepped back, drawing her with him. Tanner spun around, giving his head a shake as he surveyed what was left of her and Gia’s room.
“Nothing?” Tanner put his hands on his hips and spun to the door, throwing Seth and Pearl a murderous glare as he passed.
“Room service!” he yelled, yanking open Morgan and Ivy’s door. “Oh no, you stay right where you are, baby girl. Daddy knows you play nice.”
Who he was addressing, who he suddenly had such a wide smile for, Pearl couldn’t even try and guess. Gia had stumbled out of their room, her blue eyes fixing on Seth and Pearl. Seth beckoned her and the girl ran at them, crushing Pearl into Seth as she tried worming her way into the man’s embrace.
“Hush, kitten.” Seth ran his hand down Gia’s head, forcing her cheek to his chest. Pearl faced the girl, Gia’s hot, sporadic breath warm on her throat, their noses less than inch apart.
“You fucked up bad, Pearl,” Gia whispered, her voice unsteady and tears threatening to spill from her lids. “You fucked up so fucking bad.”
Tanner never did find the keycard. When he came out of Opal’s room — she was the only fox who didn’t have to share — his eyes were no longer the thunderclap grey of an approaching monsoon. Instead that familiar, begrudging smile tugged at his lips.
“What’s everyone still doing up?” he asked, throwing the pair of girls pressed to Seth’s chest an almost comical look of surprise. “Night terrors?”
He laughed, shook his head, and strode up the stairs, his bodyguards silently trailing him.
For several seconds after he left, a hush hung over the den.
Seth broke the silence with a noisy sigh. He disengaged from Pearl and Gia and sank onto the nearest couch, sitting forward and resting his head in his hands.
Gia perched beside him, sliding as much of her arm as she could over his shoulders. Pearl watched for a few seconds, feeling a strong urge to sink down beside him and mimic Gia. But she had to get rid of the keycard. It stuck to her with sweat; she could feel it every time she drew breath.
But where? Where?
What if she hid it somewhere and Tanner came looking again? What if he found it? What if he finally had someone to turn that jet of anger on?
She wouldn’t survive that inferno.
“Go clean your room, Pearl.”
She turned her head, blinking furiously. Seth hadn’t lifted his head, but he had Gia crushed to his chest, hands on her head. Her eyes lifting, finding Morgan and Ivy where they clustered in their doorway, watching the den with solemn, near identical expressions.
Opal hadn’t left her room throughout Tanner’s entire explosive intrusion into their den. Pearl had heard him — his voice low and somber — speaking at length with her.
What made her so special?
A flicker of anger made Pearl’s lips tighten.
Why had everyone assumed she had the card? Even Gia acted like she knew. Why? Because newbs were the perfect target? Because she’d wandered off the other night and almost gotten herself raped?
Because that had been her fault, of course.
Pearl let out a strangled scream, bunching her fists as she stormed into her and Gia’s room. She considered slamming the door behind her, but no: she wanted them to hear every angry bang, thud, clang she could make as she slammed her mattress down and kicked her clothes back i
nto her closet.
Seconds later, Seth was beside her. She spun away from him, too livid to even try for words of warning. But he just stood, watching as she tried to vent her frustration on the bed sheets, ripping them off and tangling them in a ball. She threw them at him, missing, knocking the partition over with that flailing tangle of fabric.
“Kitten—”
“Stop calling me that!” she screamed. It infuriated her that she’d missed him. She snatched up her pillow, slamming it into his arm.
He grabbed it away from her, tossing it into the corner of the room.
“Calm down.”
“Fuck you!” Tears were threatening again, but she blinked them back with the same ferocity that she used to throw a wadded up sweater toward Seth’s head.
Fuck it, was there nothing of substance in this room?
She launched herself at him, fists raised, getting a single blow to his ribs with her insignificant ball of a hand before he caught hold of her wrists and held her back.
“Enough, kitt—” he cut off with tight lips. “Stop it, Pearl. You’re just going to hurt—”
She kicked him. And, with her bare foot, she did hurt herself. More than she hurt him.
Maybe he’d had to deal with more than his fair share of hormonal foxes. Maybe they’d given him some training on how to peacefully restrain a savage girl half his size. Or perhaps, before this, he’d worked part time as a guard in a mental asylum.
Seth growled and stepped forward. Which forced her backward. His leg swept out, knocking hers out from under her.
Pearl landed on her bed with a gasp — part surprise, more parts intense pain from her aching rump — as Seth’s knee dented the mattress beside her belly. He had her wrists in a fist, his lips in an angry twist, and his other hand on her stomach, holding her down.
She froze, suddenly very aware of how close his fingers were to the keycard hidden in her underwear.
Less than an inch.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Seth. Please.” She swallowed the start of a sob, not sure if it would be one of panic, anger, or frustration. Any movement could drive Seth’s hand down, letting his fingers—
He took away his hand and ran it down his face, releasing a heavy sigh.