Hello Girl

Briar

“Hello, girl,” an odd, familiar voice called out from the doorway to my room.

I straightened from where I was making the bed and looked over my shoulder slowly. Surprise and confusion swept through me as I took in the woman standing just inside the room with a smug expression on her face.

The shopper.

“Hello,” I replied, my tone giving away how stunned I felt seeing her there. I hadn’t seen her since the beginning of my time there. I turned to face her fully, my head tilting as I did. “No ‘stupid’ this time then?”

The woman just sent me one of her challenging grins, and lifted a slender shoulder. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know why you continued to call me that in the first place,” I responded gently as her gaze swept the room—every now and then resting on something for an extra moment before continuing.

“Don’t you?” she asked as she stepped up to me so she could search my eyes. “Where do you belong, girl?” When my brows only drew together, she tsked in that way I remembered. “Are you still trying to run away?”

I knew immediately what she was asking and what she wasn’t. She didn’t—couldn’t—know about our plans or about Lucas’s work with the FBI, but she remembered clearly from my first weeks that I’d wanted help to get back to Kyle. She had told me that by not helping me, she was saving my life . . .

My hand automatically fell to my uneasy stomach, and I prayed that it would stop churning so my answer wouldn’t be mistaken for anything but honest.

“From him?” I asked softly, then shook my head. “Never again.”

“Hundreds of women,” she said with a twist of her lips. “I told you I’ve encountered hundreds of women and dozens of these men. Never once has there been a man’s watch on the woman’s nightstand—even a first’s.”

I stilled, then looked over my shoulder at where Lucas’s forgotten watch lay.

“Never once has there been a jacket and tie resting on the chair of the woman’s desk,” she continued.

But this time I didn’t need to look. By the time I faced her again, I could see the articles of clothing from the day before out of the corner of my eye.

Even though the carpet had been replaced in Lucas’s room, he’d known I hadn’t wanted to be in there again—hadn’t wanted to continue to see the place where that man had died. Lucas had his clothes in his own closet, but we’d been using my room ever since, not that I could tell the shopper that. I knew even if I explained the dead man, it wouldn’t matter. No man in this life would’ve shared a room with any of his women, no matter the circumstances.

“I knew from that first day, from the time I was measuring you, that there was something different between the two of you,” she said. “To know that love can form in one of these houses gives me hope that anything in this world is possible.”

I wanted to deny it, to try to protect Lucas and myself now that we were only days from the celebration. But this woman had had months to say something, and hadn’t. William had figured it out before this woman had even come into my life.

We’d never fooled anyone.

My head had been shaking slowly in preparation of my denial and stopped suddenly when I realized what she’d said. “We didn’t love each other then.”

“Oh, stupid girl,” she said affectionately, followed closely by another tsk. “You didn’t realize what would happen because you were clouded by your fear and your sadness, and he did not want to realize it. That does not mean you didn’t love each other, even then.”

“But—”

“Why do you think I gave him the phone number, girl?” She lifted a brow and waited for my answer, but I didn’t have one. “Because I knew. Because I could see it. Because I knew that one day you would recognize that your soul belonged with his.”

I blinked quickly, shock filling me at her words.

I had thought she was just doing her job. I’d had no idea she was seeing something we couldn’t.

At that time, I’d been in love with Kyle and was desperate to get back home. Now? Lucas was my home. And all I wanted for Kyle was a chance to grieve for the girl he’d known and accept that I was gone forever.

Tears filled my eyes before rapidly slipping down my cheeks, and a strained sob caught in my throat.

“Oh, girl,” she scoffed. “No one has time for your tears. We need—” She broke off when I threw my arms around her neck and pulled her close to me.

She was the oddest woman I had ever met.

And I was so thankful for her.

“This shirt cost a fortune; do not ruin it with your tears.”

I laughed through my tears and pulled away from her in time to see her give me a kind smile before her face fell into that look she wore well—like I was nothing more than an annoyance.

“Now, allow me to bring in the gowns. We need to find one for you to wear to the celebration.”

Confusion flooded me as I gestured toward the bathroom that hid my enormous, too-full closet. “I have dresses.”

Another lift of her brow and twist of her lips. “Not for the celebration, you don’t.”

Hours later I had my dress picked out and hanging in my closet in a garment bag, and something about knowing it was there added an ache in my chest to the fear that had already been gripping me.

I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to the shopper. Not in the way I wanted to. I hadn’t been able to thank her for helping me see that everything I would ever want had been standing right in front of me.

Instead, I’d bit down on my lip and held back more tears as she’d left, stating, “You will still, above all, be the one I look forward to seeing most.”

I was lying on the bed, trying to force back the nausea and dizziness that never seemed to go away lately when the bed dipped from his weight and immediately cursed myself for not hearing him before he’d reached the room.

“Blackbird,” he said softly, worry dripping from the word.

I didn’t have to force the relief that poured from me when I said, “You’re home.”

But his dark eyes were searching my face, looking for everything I was trying to hide. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head quickly. “I’ve just been worried,” I whispered, at least giving him that truth.

Every day he left had been agony, knowing he was willingly surrounding himself with other men from his world—men who could potentially be on William’s side. Every day had left me unable to fully breathe until he came home.

But he had to keep up pretenses.

In the last two months, I’d only been alone while the driver took Lucas to and from work or anything else business related. The driver returned to the house to protect me, making himself invisible while I stayed inside and trained or read, so I wouldn’t feel suffocated—as I had before.

Today had been the last day Lucas would go into work. Today had been the last day he would have to leave me for any reason. And even though I was so thankful for that—so thankful I wouldn’t have to worry for hours upon hours—I dreaded the next two and a half days.

It had felt nearly impossible to keep what was happening inside me from this man the last two weeks, but he’d been distracted enough with work and all the planning with David that it had been doable. But I could feel the anxiety and restlessness that these remaining days created. I could feel his need to spend every second with me as if it might be our last, because it was just doubling my own anxiety and reinforcing my decision to keep this from him.

He would do anything . . . anything to keep me safe.

But he wouldn’t be able to think clearly if he knew, and he would get himself killed.

His fingers trailed lightly over my cheek, then he cupped my face in his large hand. “Briar, I’ve been thinking . . .”

My heart fell into my stomach at his tone and the defeated look in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to go to the cele—”

“No,” I said quickly. “Lucas, no.”

“Briar, listen—”

“No, don’t tell me to listen,” I said through gritted teeth, and pushed him away so I could sit up on the bed. “I know what you’re doing, and you can’t do this to me. Not after all we’ve been through to make it here.” Tears were already falling down my face, but I didn’t bother to try to stop them. He was breaking my heart.

“Blackbird,” he said in a soft, soothing tone as he reached for me again.

I stopped him from touching me and kept my shaking hand in the air. “I’ve heard every conversation you’ve had with David over the last two months. I know what this would mean.”

Lucas’s face fell, but he didn’t attempt to placate me.

“You told him that once one of you buys a woman, you’re not just allowed to go to this annual gathering, but you have to. Your entire house has to—which means me. I know why David wouldn’t let you get me out of here. It was because of this night. If I’m not there, I know it will make a statement you can’t afford to make.”

“I can take care of myself,” he said in a calm tone that grated on me.

“I can’t let you die.”

My words snapped something inside him, and he reached for me quickly, cradling my face in his hands. “I can’t save you from something I can’t see coming,” his deep voice boomed. He looked like he was being tortured, but he was holding me as if I was precious. When he spoke again, his words were rough, his breaths uneven. “Don’t you understand, Briar? If you’re there, he will try to kill you. He knows I’ll be watching you, and watching every move he makes. So he’ll do it silently, without ever coming near you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he said, his words twisted with grief. “And I’d rather die than live without you.” He sat back, releasing me so he could reach into his pocket. He pulled out an envelope and slowly handed it to me.

My eyebrows pulled together when I pulled out a black, square card. It looked like a paint chip, but was so thick it would’ve taken an actual effort to bend it. “I don’t . . .” I trailed off when I turned it over and saw the writing.

“The second auction of the year always immediately follows the celebration. I had to buy a ticket for appearances.”

I already knew what he was telling me, but that didn’t explain what I was holding in my hand. “What is this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It doesn’t look like much, but that card you’re holding is worth ten thousand dollars . . .” he began.

My stomach rolled, and I had to swallow back my hatred and disgust for the men who lived in this world—who spent this kind of money just to sit in on an auction.

“. . . and the chip inside it is how we get into the auctions. It was delivered to me today.” Lucas tapped a finger on the silver-written note and growled, “That was already there.”

I didn’t need to ask who the message was from. The writing was exactly like I’d seen on the cards from the men who’d come to kill me.

Time to start over . . .

“I figured we wouldn’t hear from William because he’d failed at both attempts to take you, and he would be recovering. I had no idea he’d plan something for the celebration.”

I read the words over and over again, not realizing that my free hand had gone to my stomach at some point. But Lucas didn’t say anything. If he noticed, he probably guessed it was due to my fear.

“Maybe he means the two of you . . .”

“You know he doesn’t,” Lucas said as frustration seeped from him. “William doesn’t do anything without thinking it through. He could have called or put the message on the invitation to the celebration. He chose this—he’s sending a message. He’s knocking in the rhythm of a heartbeat, Briar.”

“Let him.” I dropped what I was holding and crawled onto his lap so I could cradle his face the way he had done mine earlier. His face blurred, so I shut my eyes and pressed my forehead to his, whispering, “Only a man who wants to die would knock on the Reaper’s door.”