Paldimori Gods Rising Box Set

by T. L. Callahan

  “Don’t walk away from me, you self-righteous bitch!” Natalie’s pale skin was flushed an angry red. A sick pleasure filled her eyes as she dug her long nails deeper into my arm. My skin felt as if it were being sliced open layer by layer. The stinging ache turned into a burning pain as her grip tightened.

  “Geez, Nat,” Daron said as he ran a beefy palm through his spiky blond hair. “What’re you doing?”

  “Shut it, D. She took from me. Now she owes me—us.” Natalie continued to glare at me, her blue eyes lit with a maniacal fire that drove a spike of fear through my chest. “And she’s going to pay up if she doesn’t want everyone to know she allowed her employees to have sex in her store.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Tugging my arm in protest, I tried to free myself from her grasp. Natalie dug her nails in deeper. The pain radiated down to the tips of my fingers as blood welled up in the crescent-shaped marks. We both watched as a drop of blood slithered across my arm. For a moment, I could swear that I felt something pressing against my mind urging me to give in to anything she wanted. Natalie licked her lips as if she was ready to take a taste of my blood. My instincts were screaming not to make any sudden moves. This was no guppy but a full-grown shark scenting blood in the water.

  “Yeah, that’s right, Ice Princess.” She had the nerve to wink at me. “One big happy orgy with all your employees happening right there in the middle of the glass bowls and statues. You didn’t have a clue. And you know what else? It wasn’t only your current boyfriend who liked to play with us.”

  My heart was racing. Were all of my employees a part of what was sounding suspiciously like a blackmail attempt? If what Natalie said was true, my two part-time employees had participated in whatever this was. And my former boyfriends too.

  Was anyone who they pretended to be? None of it made any sense.

  Fuck this! I didn’t know if crazy was contagious, but I needed to get away from her. Now.

  Gripping her hand, I shoved it away from me. Bloody scratches scored my skin and my stomach churned as I hugged my injured arm to my chest. Slowly backing away, I tried not to provoke her further. Everyone knew that trusting a raving lunatic was bad news. I just hadn’t seen the crazy until it was too late.

  My head was throbbing so hard it could register as a second heartbeat. My throat felt tight, and it took several tries to swallow—whether from the cold that was coming on or the betrayal choking the air from my lungs—as I fought the tears that were threatening to fall. First place award for sucker goes to me. How pathetic I must seem to them all, to have never put the pieces together. My staff obeyed Natalie as if she were the pied piper, and my boyfriends had all been big fans. What wasn’t to like? She was sweet and helpful. At least, that was the Natalie I’d known.

  The acidic taste of betrayal was especially hard to swallow since trust didn’t come easy for me. Natalie had proved herself a valuable employee, steadily weaving her way under my guard. As time went on, I’d treated her more and more like a partner in my gallery. She had access to everything. Not only about the business but a lot of details about my personal life as well. That had made it so much easier for her to take advantage.

  My fingers tightened around my wounded arm, the jolt of pain removing some of the fuzz from my brain. “Why?”

  The silence stretched on for several moments. Damn it, I’m at least owed an explanation! Anger surged up from the ball of emotions churning under my lonely highway and spilled out onto the asphalt. The lightbulb in the lamp beside the couch suddenly burst making us all jump. Natalie tilted her head, examining the lamp before she turned to me with a speculating gaze.

  “What the hell is this about?” I prodded. “I don’t owe you anything. You’re nothing but a spoiled brat badly in need of a spanking from your parents to teach you some common decency.”

  “Yummy, I love a good spanking,” Natalie purred with a nasty smile. “You want to play with me, Lia? Boy or girl, I’m not picky.”

  My face must have given me away. “Oh princess, was that too shocking?” She taunted me. “I bet you still only do it missionary and with the lights off. No wonder your guys keep coming to me for a good time.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daron wince as if she had scored a direct hit. Sex had become more of a chore for me. It was something that was expected as part of a relationship. So, I played my part, throwing out the occasional moans for good measure while I counted the minutes until it was over. It wasn’t as if the performances were that awe-inspiring, anyway. And what was the point in pretending to feel anything? It would take a better man than Daron to resurrect my heart, if it were even possible.

  Natalie smiled as if she knew she had struck a nerve. I may not have put the effort in, but they could have walked away. Cheating was never ok, no matter what. I shoveled a hole and pushed the rolling ball of emotions back down. Pave it over. Seal it up. Don’t let the emotions out or they will destroy you.

  “Natalie, I think you might need to talk to someone.” It was a struggle to keep the disgust from my voice as I attempted to coax the rabid dog from my home. “There’s a doctor—”

  “Shut up! You shut up. RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.” She charged me, her hand raised to hit me. “I don’t need some shrink messing with my head.”

  Daron grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off her feet. “Nat, baby, hush. Just calm down. You aren’t thinkin’ right. Shhhh.”

  Natalie kicked at me, screaming threats and insults as Daron dragged her toward the door.

  “Listen,” he said to me as Natalie struggled to break free from his arms. “I’m sorry. We were all just messin’ around, you know? We never meant nothin’ by it.”

  Natalie flailed about so violently that Daron lost his balance for a moment and stumbled sideways into the couch. He grunted as she landed a kick to his shin, but finally managed to get a firm grip on her. Daron glanced down briefly at my injured arm and grimaced. “I’m sure Nat is real sorry ’bout hurtin’ you. She was surprised ’bout you finding us out, is all.”

  Too much. It was too much.

  Daron got the door open and forced a more subdued Natalie through.

  “Wait,” I said. “One more thing.”

  I walked over and looked Natalie in the eyes. “You’re fired. Now you can leave.”

  She started to screech again, but I slammed the door on both of them.

  Slumping against it, I slowly slid to the floor. My head dropped back against the door with a thump that I immediately regretted when sharp pain lanced my temples. This day ranked high on my list of worst days ever. I only hoped Natalie was satisfied with whatever sense of vindication she got from what she had done. The last thing I wanted was for anyone else to find out about this mess.

  2

  Achoo!

  Another tissue landed on the mountain that had collected in my trashcan. Another round of hand sanitizer and my skin felt like shriveled prunes. My cold had gotten worse adding to the struggle to make sense of the paperwork spread across my desk. The last two days had been spent firing my other employees and taking care of business. Sorting out all the details of my gallery that had included Natalie was harder than I had anticipated.

  And, to make matters worse, my BFF, Dia King, had called to tell me that word had hit the town gossip circles within an hour of Daron dragging Natalie from my home.

  My good-luck fairy must have been on vacation.

  The leader of the GG’s, Ms. Myrtle Jones, had shown up on my doorstep the next morning with a container of homemade banana pudding. She had taken one look at my scratchy red eyes and runny nose and called in the troops. The next thing I knew I was sitting in my ratty robe in a house full of elderly ladies telling me how men were only good for certain things. Like lifting heavy stuff and reaching the top shelf. Thankfully, Ms. Myrtle was one of the nicer members of the gossips and had run interference. Although the one time I’d tried to convince them that I was suffering from a cold rather than any heartbreak over
Daron had garnered me enough “poor dears” to have me grinding my teeth to dust. They patted my arm and shoved more food at me until me and my fridge were filled to bursting.

  Dia, of course, had enjoyed riling them up with well-placed comments that kept the man-bashing going for hours. By the time they left, I was too tired to move. And feeling sorry for the men in their lives.

  The sound of the doorbell woke me early the following morning. My back protested every move as I shuffled to the door, stooped over from the awkward position I’d fallen asleep in on the couch. Pulling my old blue robe more securely around me, I attempted to smooth out my tangled bird’s nest of hair. The fresh-faced young man on the doorstep—Ms. Myrtle’s grandson—made me feel ancient. I scrubbed at my face in case there were lines left there from my decorative pillow and swiped at my chin, hoping I’d caught all the drool.

  He presented me with a mixed bouquet of spring flowers and an invitation to lunch Sunday at his grandmother’s house. He’d barely gotten the words out before a sniff of the flowers started me off on an instant coughing fit. I was a complete mess. Eyes watering. Nose dripping. Face hot as fire as I struggled to draw in each congested breath. The young man’s look of horror said it all. He was kind enough to help me back to the couch—probably in fear of his grandmother finding out if he didn’t. He agreed to send my regrets about lunch. Then he bolted so fast I’d barely been able to croak out a “thanks” before the door slammed.

  To avoid well-meaning neighbors and matchmaking grandmothers, my office was now doubling as my bedroom. Giving up on the paperwork, I wound my hair up, pinning it back with an antique silver clip from my desk, before heading to the gallery floor to stretch my legs and clear my head.

  I weaved my way through the blown glass, pottery, jewelry, and various other art forms displayed on white pedestals of varying heights dotted about the gallery. Whimsy’s art collection reflected its name in that the store contained an assortment of unusual items. The traditional offerings such as paintings were represented, of course, but my inner artist was always drawn to the unique.

  Pride filled me as I scanned my shop. Whimsy was the only thing I had left in the world—besides Dia—that meant a thing to me. During the hours spent here I could lose myself in the artwork and let the echo of the past fade away. The quiet routine allowed me to relax my vigil over my lonely highway. Here I didn’t have to fear what might trigger those memories to slip through the pavement and pull me back down a path of destruction. This was my sanctuary. My salvation when I didn’t think there could be any.

  It would have been so much more that that if I had gotten the loan from the bank. The term “starving artist” was all too real. I had been helping local artists reach larger crowds through my connections with other galleries, but it took time. The loan would have gone toward expanding my studio in the back, allowing those artists to teach classes to bring in extra income.

  My fists clenched in frustration at what Natalie had ruined with her childish jealousy. And that’s what it had been, I was sure. Our confrontation had played repeatedly through my mind as I struggled to understand. She had said that I had taken from her and referred to the men she had taken from me. There was only one man I had ever been involved with that she could possibly have thought I had taken from her. Douglas had been the first man to convince me to give dating a chance. Natalie had introduced us at an exhibition opening. He had been her professor, and they had both claimed they were only friends. Looking back now she had been very interested in the details of our relationship. Douglas had been a nice man but ultimately more interested in sleeping with his students. Namely, the Dean’s daughter which had gotten him a black eye and a transfer to another university.

  I sighed as I moved towards the large storefront window to watch the rainbows as light poured through the stained-glass edges and reflected onto the natural bamboo flooring. Stone pathways twisted and split from the bottom scene to wind through different landscapes on either side. The design had been my idea and the artist I had commissioned delivered with exceptional results. But it was very different from the glass sculptures I had dreamed of making when my career as an artist was still a possibility. What would my life look like now if I had taken a different path?

  I shook my head and turned back towards the office, where I spent the day on the couch, the mountain of tissues growing even higher, trying to push through the ache in my head to get some actual work done and looking forward to my evening. Monday nights I eased into the workweek with pizza, pj’s, and Netflix episodes featuring drool-worthy Agent Booth. Tonight, a pint of ice cream was joining me as my reward for finally ejecting Natalie from every aspect of my life. Maybe I would ask Dia to join me too.

  Suddenly, the bell over the gallery door sounded. Please don’t let it be another of Ms. Myrtle’s circle of friends stopping in to “pick up a little something” while trying to give me dating advice. There was only an hour left before closing. I didn’t want to be late for my date with Agent Booth.

  I scanned the gallery, looking for my customer. The reflection of a familiar face in the oval antique mirror next to the counter almost made me want to sneak out the door. Brice Kingston II selected a necklace from the tray on the table and eyed it with distaste. He dropped it back to the table in a clumsy pile before picking up another. A shiver of disgust rolled down my spine as he held the necklace up in front of him and licked his lips, a heated look filling his eyes.

  I eased back a step, fully intending to hide. Cowardly, I know, but I wasn’t in good shape to fend off his advances. Unfortunately, my movement caught his attention and he turned toward me.

  “There you are, Lia. Lucky for you I wasn’t a homeless person wandering in off the street, or I could have run off with half the store by now.” He smiled at me as if he hadn’t made that snide remark about my business management skills. “I heard that you lost your staff. I’m sure it’s a chore taking care of this little hobby of yours all by yourself.”

  I forced my lips to curl up into a semblance of a smile, but my expression may have been leaning more towards feral than friendly. He paused for a moment but decided to ignore his instincts and walked up to take my hand. Anyone else I would have cautioned to keep their distance so they wouldn’t catch my cold. My first smile in days broke free when he stepped in to kiss my cheek.

  Served him right if he got sick. I tugged my hand from his grasp on the pretense of tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “This is my business, not a hobby, Mr. Kingston,” I reminded him for the millionth time. “Was there something I can help you with?”

  His gaze dipped to my cleavage and got stuck there. “Huh-hum. Did you want to purchase that necklace, Mr. Kingston?”

  His fingers tightened around the necklace in annoyance at my refusal to call him Brice. If I gave in an inch, he would turn our relationship into something it wasn’t. He licked his lips again, sending a shudder down my spine. My leg twitched with the desire to knee him in the balls as he continued to ogle my breasts. However satisfying that would have been, I repressed my urge. That was how the old Lia would have handled him. Back when I was full of fire to take on the world.

  Don’t act recklessly. You aren’t that young girl anymore. You’re a respected business owner, and he holds the purse to your future. I took a slightly congested inhale and waited. He would get to the point of this unwanted visit—eventually.

  “It’s your birthday soon. May 22, correct?” he asked instead, his eyes finally traveling back up to my face.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “There’s a new five-star restaurant opening in Seattle. The chef is a friend of the family. I have a private dinner booked for us. Don’t worry about not having anything to wear. I had my secretary pick out a dress for you. I know you prefer to dress . . . more casually, but this place requires more than jeans and T-shirts. You’ll love it. I thought you would like to wear one of the trinkets from your store. This one should do fine.” He dangled the n
ecklace in front of my face, apparently expecting to be praised as though he were the most thoughtful man in the world.

  What the hell? He couldn’t be serious. I had turned him down flat when he had asked me out after he helped me get the initial business loan to open my gallery years ago and every time since. He had been a complete ass about it and had gone out of his way to make things difficult for me. Why was he acting as if it were a done deal that I would go out with him now?

  “Y-You . . .” I stammered, completely at a loss for words.

  Suddenly the door banged open so hard that the bell was knocked off. I winced as it hit the floor and continued to clunk-clank-clatter as it rolled toward a display of vases. Dia rushed headlong into the gallery, hunched over like she was ready to tackle someone. Apparently, I was her lucky opponent. I grunted as she grabbed me by the waist, almost knocking me into Brice.

  Resting her head against my stomach, she struggled to catch her breath. “Th-thank god . . . I got here . . . just in time . . .”

  “Dia, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I tried to pry her arms away so I could check her over for injuries, but she wasn’t budging.

  “Hos . . . pital. Now.” She groaned.

  “Brice, you have to leave. I’ve got to get Dia to the hospital.” I plucked the necklace from his hand and tossed it onto the nearest table. Then propelled him to the front door with my hand against his back as Dia trailed along, still clinging to me.

  “This is absurd,” he said, trying to force his way back through the door. “Just call an ambulance.”

  “Con . . . tagious.” Dia moaned and grabbed his wrist. He squealed like a little girl and jerked out of her grip.

  A tingling built in my nose right at that moment. Achoo!

  His face turned white. “You stupid cow! Now you’ve infected us both!” He raced recklessly to his car at the curb and gunned the engine. With a squeal of tires, he shot out into traffic, barely avoiding collision with another car.