Rick’s eyes narrow into slits. He finally glances up at me. “What would you know about selling it for more? You’re confessing that you actually sold it for a tenth of the price before.”
“That’s when I was desperate. And I sold it to Al.” I wave my hand in a dismissal. “I’ve known the guy since I was a kid. Used to steal items for the shop before. I knew I could get it back anytime.” I lick my lips, going in for the kill, a sweat working its way under my shirt as I attempt a fraud I haven’t had to pull off in ten years.
My past mixes with my present in an intoxicating mix that, through my nerves, strengthens me, empowering me.
Combining both feels like coming home, my two worlds working in a way to make me more of the strong Sophia I hadn’t seen in an awful long time.
Maybe it’s the call from the gallery. Maybe it’s Noah Quinn.
Maybe it’s me.
But I’m no longer feeling the “Princess Who Never Smiled” or the “Armless Maiden.”
In fact… I’m feeling a lot like the me that used to be, with some much-needed alterations.
I smile at Rick, my old criminal spidey senses going into overdrive.
I was used to living in this sort of twisted story. But the man holding me hostage doesn’t.
Rick has no idea what kind of Grimm fairytale he’s in for.
Chapter 29
NOAH
“Uh, so I know we’re in a rush, Noah, but I would like to make it to the bar in one piece.”
I don’t glance into the backseat (or trunk, rather) as I push the BMW another five miles per hour faster.
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
“I have plans for us to make it one piece, Lach. Though you might not be so lucky if you keep clamoring in my ear.”
“I’m just saying…” my youngest and annoying brother banters from the back seat. “If we don’t slow it down on these curves, you will definitely see pieces. Because I’m going to throw up chunks of that disgusting pizza all over this car.”
“If that’s the case,” Nancy whines, sandwiched between the driver and passenger seat, “then Lach’s right, Noah. We might want to take our time. I could barely eat that pizza from Benny’s; I definitely don’t want to end up wearing it.”
Drew adds to the conversation. “Come on, Nance. It might be an upgrade from the outfits I’ve seen you wear in your bartending days.”
Nancy’s lips thin into a straight line. “I was wrong, Noah. The faster we can get to the bar, the better. Because if I have to be in a small space with Andrew any longer, I’m going to end up throwing up chunks.”
“Anyone throwing up chunks on this tux I’m wearing won’t make it to The Alchemist at all,” Jase declares. “In case that pizza hasn’t soured your distracted minds, I have a wedding to be in, oh…” He checks the watch on his wrist, “less than two hours.”
“And it will take us an hour to get to Connecticut,” I finish, reminding myself more than anyone.
I press the gas pedal a little harder again, still holding onto hope that Benny’s pizza won’t be making any more appearances in this car, a sweat starting to form under my collar as I navigate through the New York streets like a hot blade through butter.
The city around us is as frantic as I feel.
Stoplights sway overhead as we zoom through traffic towards The Alchemist, twisting, turning and swerving over the soaking wet asphalt that decorates the New York City blocks.
I think back to two months ago when I first arrived in the city, and immediately I hate that version of myself, the man I’d been in the back of that town car.
Selfish. Self-serving. A prick-ish, perfection-seeking asshole with nothing to offer the world but my ass to kiss.
Until her.
My calls to Sophia’s cell phone go straight to voicemail, and worry slides effortlessly into panic with me now knowing about The Alchemist manager’s role in the disappearance of my father’s watch.
My fingertips twisting around the BMW’s stick-shift, I push us as far and as fast as the traffic and rain will allow, my chest tightening with each passing mile.
My heart hits a rate I didn’t think was possible as I prod the blue vehicle farther into Manhattan.
By the time I reach the corner where The Alchemist lies, my insides are a mess, my pulse playing the congas, my stomach turning cartwheels when I park, hopping out the driver’s side door immediately.
The barfront is dark as I approach, and I cling to the glass door, desperate to peek inside.
My eyes scanning over the dark empty floor, in search of Sophia. Scouring. Skimming over every inch I can find.
Until I see it.
I can barely hear the influx of the Bimmer’s other passengers, as I pull on the locked door, jarring the glass to within an inch of its breaking point.
Nancy calls out—some sharp comment about her having a key, but I can barely hear her.
The lock at the door turns and twists, groans underneath my rough touch, and with an unsteady growl, I heave the damn thing open, breaking the doorframe into pieces just a second before I burst inside, my footsteps echoing loudly over the hallowed, hardwood floors.
The blond creep barely registers what’s happening before I’m hoisting him high off the stool on which he perches, his collar wrapped in my hands within seconds.
Using my height to my full advantage, I lift him towards my face, snarling the words with such force that it feels as if the floor shakes.
“You piece of shit. Who the hell do you think you are? Did you think we wouldn’t find out? I will kill you where you stand.”
And
