Magic and Miracles, page 50
Anna snorted. “Just give me what I want and then you’ll never see me again. I just need a small red booklet. Warren took it home by mistake his last week at the office. I need it.”
Blake’s thoughts were struggling to keep up. “A red notebook? I... I don’t know. The police have the boxes from his home office, the rest is—”
She cut off abruptly.
Anna grinned, showing her grayish yellow teeth. “In your boyfriend’s apartment. We know. Zelle is there looking for it now.”
“Where’s Cam? What did you do to him?” Blake demanded even as fear clawed it way up her chest.
“Nothing… yet.” Anna’s eyes glinted. “Where is the notebook?”
Blake fisted her shaking hands. “I don’t know. I swear. I've never seen a red notebook. It might be in one of the boxes but—”
Anna waved her towards the door. “Then let’s go see if it’s there,” she said, stepping closer. “If you try to scream or run, your boyfriend is dead.”
Blake swallowed, and silently followed Anna’s orders to enter Cam’s apartment.
Inside, Cam was gagged and strapped to a kitchen chair with multiple zip ties. His eyes went wide when he saw her. Instinctively, Blake started towards him but Anna grabbed her shirt and pulled her back.
“I don’t think so,” she said, pressing the gun to Blake’s side. Cam’s eyes filled with so many emotions. With a muffled roar, he jerked his arm, snapping the two zip ties.
Before Anna could react, a small growl filled the air, followed by a loud hiss. Blake caught a flash of fur as Lucifer launched himself at Anna. She screamed, a shot firing into the wall before she dropped the gun to fight off the crazed cat, who clawed and bit her.
Ears ringing, Blake went to grab the gun, accidently kicking it away from her as she stumbled on shaking, unsteady legs.
Zelle ran into the living room, her long black hair pulled up into a wild bun. Her huge nose wrinkled as she looked from Blake to Anna, who was wrestling what no doubt appeared to be a rabid furball. Cam ripped away the rest of the zipties and tackled her.
Anna finally managed to throw Lucifer off her. Face scratched and bleeding, she spun to Blake, eyes wild. The woman reached for her, fingers out like claws, but Lucifer pounced on her again.
“Get my saran wrap,” Cam yelled from the floor.
“What?” Blake asked, her feet feeling heavy as she stared at the mayhem around her.
“Next to the fridge,” Cam yelled. “Second drawer!”
Blake finally moved, racing to the kitchen and grabbing the saran wrap from the drawer and tossing it to Cam, who had Zelle pinned to the ground.
Anna screamed, still struggling with Lucifer. She spun and ran straight into the wall, knocking herself out.
Lucifer hissed at her still form, then sat back on his haunches and proceeded to groom himself while somehow managing to look pleased.
“Let me go,” Zelle screamed, bringing Blake’s attention back to Cam, who had somehow managed to use the saran wrap like rope, tying the woman’s hands and feet together behind her back.
“Whoa,” Blake said, impressed. “That’s actually really hot.” It seemed ridiculous to feel that way in such a moment, but she did. Maybe she was in shock.
Cam looked up, grinning. “Rodeo.”
Lucifer waltzed over to Zelle and smacked the woman in the face with his paw, over and over again while she tried to move her face out of the way.
Cam hurried to tie up Anna the same way he’d done with Zelle. He straightened and Blake could make out the sound of sirens in the distance.
Seeing him whole and unharmed made her shock melt away and she choked on a sob. She bolted toward him the same moment he moved towards her. They crashed into each other, Blake pressing her face into his neck. Tears escaped her eyes as his arms banded around her waist.
“You’re alive,” she whispered over and over again. Cam buried his hands into her hair, pressing her to his chest as though he was trying to absorb her into him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling away to look at her, his eyes searching her for signs of injury.
She choked out a short laugh, nodding.
His hand slid to her face and his thumb brushed aside a tear. “When I saw that gun pointed at you—” He looked away for a moment, blinking rapidly as the muscles in his neck corded. “I wanted to rip her apart. I would have fought anything and anyone to get to you. I can’t lose you, Blake.”
Something in her heart seemed to click back together, as if a piece that had broken off long ago had found its place again. “You… you would fight for me?”
Cam's eyes grew so intense that Blake’s breath caught in her throat.
“I would fight to keep you, always, as long as you wished it of me.”
Blake quirked a brow. “Did you… did you just go all Jane Austin-y on me?”
A bit of that mischievous light that Blake had come to love returned to his gaze. “Is it working? Lucifer practically saved the day. I can’t be outdone by a half-mad cat.”
Blake laughed, she couldn’t help it. They both did. There were too many emotions. Too fast. Too strong.
“Rodeo, huh?” she asked. “Can I see you in a cowboy hat?”
He leaned closer. “If I get to see you in black leather.”
Instead of laughing, Blake gripped him tighter. “Stay,” she blurted. Cam’s smile faded.
The sirens were so close now, but she ignored them.
“Stay. With me,” she whispered. “I’m not saying you have to stay here, like physically. I know you were going to go back to the ranch so maybe Ella and I could look at moving closer to you, unless you don’t want us to do that, or unless you want to stay here, but maybe that’s something we can—
Cam’s mouth met hers, cutting off her flood of words.
His lips were warm, soft and searching, and as her mouth slowly responded to his, she could taste the salt of their tears. He pulled back slightly, as though giving her a chance to change her mind but she slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him back to her. Kissing him was like coming up for air after suffocating. How had she gone so long without breathing?
11
Blake and Ella sat beside each other sharing a bag of potato chips. It had been a late night of getting looked over by EMT’s, making statements to police, letting them search their apartments, and finally filling Ella in on all that had happened. They both fell asleep on Blake’s bed before Ella got very far into the story about her prom night.
It was just after nine in the morning but they munched on the snacks they’d brought in with them last night.
“You okay?” Blake asked.
Ella bit into a chip. “Yeah. Just… a lot to process.”
Blake nodded. “Yeah.”
They chewed in silence for a while.
“I’m sorry,” Ella said “about the way I’ve been behaving. It's not an excuse but I was just so mad. Mad at Dad, mostly, but I think it was just easier to direct it at you.” She grabbed another chip. “I was so angry that he didn’t tell me about the cancer sooner, and I kind of hated you because he told you and not me.”
Blake nodded. “I know.”
Ella looked at her. “You do?”
“I’m not saying I know how you’re feeling,” Blake clarified. “I just mean I know what it's like to be angry about life and the choices people make for you.”
“For what it's worth,” Ella said. “I’m glad Dad picked you.”
Blake looked at her stepdaughter… no, her daughter. “Me too,” she said, meaning it. Despite everything, she had come to love this girl. Genuinely.
A mischievous smile spread across Ella’s face. “Should we talk about Cam? I mean, he is pretty cute.”
Surprised, Blake’s chip caught in her throat, making her cough so hard her eyes watered.
Ella just laughed.
Once they were both breathing normally again, Ella groaned. “I don’t know how to tell Mamie I lost one of her shoes.”
Blake turned onto her side. “How did that happen?”
Ella also turned so they were facing each other. “Brook and I were having so much fun and…” She picked at the blanket, trying to look sorry but failing. “I confess it felt pretty good to see Prince’s eyes go as wide as golf balls when we walked in and then he practically stared at me all night. He made his date so mad she stormed out.” Ella shrugged. “After that, Prince came up to me and asked me to dance. He tried to apologize but then started to get all handsy.” She wrinkled her nose. “I pushed him away and told him never to touch me again but he wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally, Jack grabbed him and pulled him away from me. My shoe fell off while I was trying to get away, and then I couldn’t find it anywhere.” She cringed. “Do you think Mamie will be mad?”
“I doubt it,” Blake said, unfisting her hands that had tightened while Ella talked about Prince. “Even if she is, we’ll figure it out. Let’s get cleaned up and go over.”
Ella nodded.
Blake scrunched her face. “Hey, do you know anything about a red notebook? Anna said your dad took hers by accident.”
Ella thought for a moment, her eyes going wide. “Wait.” She leapt out of bed and ran from the room. A minute later, she came back holding a small red notebook.
“I took a few things from Dad’s office after—” She broke off and swallowed. “Well, I took a few things that I thought might have been some personal things. I remember looking through this and almost throwing it away cause I couldn’t find anything interesting.” She handed it to Blake, who flipped it open.
She’d looked at enough bank statements and account numbers in the last week to recognize what she was seeing. This had to be what Anna was looking for.
“Let’s drop this off at the station on our way to Mamie’s.”
An hour later, Blake pulled into Mamie’s driveway, surprised to see a for sale sign in the yard. Had that been there the night before? They rang the doorbell and someone Blake had never seen before opened it, smiling.
“Welcome. Are you here for the open house?”
Blake scrunched her brows. “Uh, no. We’re here to see Mamie.”
The woman clasped her hands together. “Mamie? I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”
“She’s the lady who lives here,” Blake clarified. Maybe she was just… new?
The woman laughed. “That’s impossible. This house has been empty for months.”
Blake and Ella looked at each other.
“But,” Ella started. “We were here last night. We literally saw Mamie last night.”
The woman looked back and forth between them. “Perhaps you have the wrong house?”
Blake pulled out her phone and called Mamie’s number. It went straight to a generic voicemail, not the one where Mamie said to only leave a message if it's super important.
Not knowing what else to do, they left.
“How—” Ella started, looking as confused as Blake felt.
She just shook her head. “I have no idea.” Nothing about this made sense. She would do some digging when she got home. But the further away they drove from the house, the more the thoughts and memories of the woman seemed to fade too, as if it had all been a dream.
That night, Blake and Ella made dinner together. It was the first time they’d done that since before Warren had passed. Blake also got a phone call from the police. The red notebook contained the banking information to the off-shore account the sisters had been sending the embezzled money to. They were also able to confirm that it was the sisters who had acquired all the gambling debt, not Warren. So Blake would no longer be responsible for any of it.
For the first time in a long time, Blake felt relief from the pressure that had been pushing her under for the past year. Someone knocked on the door. She opened it to find Jack standing there, looking terribly nervous.
“Hi,” he said, shifting from foot to foot. “Is Ella home?”
Before Blake could respond, Ella came up beside her.
“Hey,” she said, smiling.
His cheeks pinked a little and he smiled. “Hey.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Jack seemed to remember why he had come. “Oh, I uh, came to return your shoe.” He held it up.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you!”
Jack shrugged. “Glad I could help. They’re pretty unique shoes. Where did you get them?”
There was an awkward silence as Ella glanced at Blake. She racked her mind, unable to remember. She made a face and shrugged.
Ella turned back to Jack. “There’s a little frozen yogurt shop a few blocks from here. Would you like to get some with me?”
He smiled. “I would love that.”
“Perfect. I’ll just grab my other shoes.” She gave Blake a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be back soon.”
Healing spread back through the parts of Blake that had believed she’d lost Ella forever. As she closed the door, Blake’s phone dinged.
Instantly, a smile split her face.
Cam: Hey, how are you feeling?
Blake: Better than you, probably.
Cam: I doubt it. This really beautiful woman kissed me yesterday. I’m still not sure I didn’t just dream it all up.
Blake’s heart beat madly. She bit her lip, still grinning like an idiot.
Cam: I might have to try it again, just to make sure it was real. If she’ll let me.
A soft knock made Blake’s stomach flip. Slowly, almost timidly, she turned the handle and pulled open her door just enough to peer out. Cam stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. A bruise had come in over his cheekbone.
“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” she asked.
He shrugged, grinning wickedly. “You don’t.”
She smiled but still, she didn’t move. Despite everything that had happened, despite how much she wanted this, there was still a fear that squirmed through her thoughts that eventually, he would decide he didn’t want her after all. That he would leave, just like everyone else.
It was like Cam could hear her thoughts because he stepped closer. “Don’t be afraid of me,” he said, his eyes worried.
“I’m trying,” she whispered. Slowly, she opened the door and he stepped inside just enough to let the door close behind them. He turned, setting his hands against the wall on either side of her face, holding her in place but also giving her space to leave if she chose.
Her body instantly reacted to his nearness, flushing hot. But beneath that, something awakened, something she’d thought she’d lost long ago as a small child when her parent’s indifference taught her she wasn't important, something she’d thought had died when her first love left her for her best friend. Hope. Hope that someone could love her. Hope that someone would choose her.
“I have something I need to ask you,” he said, and Blake was surprised to find a hint of fear there.
“Okay,” she said.
He searched her eyes, slowly drawing in a long, deep breath.
“Will you stay? You already own my heart, but if you don’t want it, I need to know here and now. I’m asking you to be honest with me, Blake. I… I need you to be honest with me.”
Blake thought about what he had told her about his fiance. Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to her that perhaps he felt as unwanted as she did, that this was just as terrifying for him as it was for her.
“So,” he said. “I’m asking you to stay. Stay. With. Me,” he whispered.
Blake reached for his face, his stubble gently scratching the palms of her hands. Slowly, she pulled his head down until his lips touched hers. Instantly, his fingers dug into her hair, his mouth devouring hers, pulling, tasting, exploring. He breathed her name, making her heart split and shatter and start to heal all at once. She let him taste her hunger for him, giving him all the vulnerability she had. He took it in, accepting it all.
Blake pulled back, touching her forehead to his.
“I’ll stay.”
* * *
THE END
CARTER GOODWYN’S FAIRY GODMOTHER
By Krista Jensen
* * *
https://kristalynnejensen.blogspot.com/
1
Wind pulled and pushed at the latched shutters, and flames in the hearth lengthened and dove with the draft of the chimney. Talisman chimes of glass beads, tin bells, and clay tokens tinkled and clacked, swaying as the beam they adorned began to rock to and fro with the walls of the thatched cottage deep in the woods of the folded mountains. Not an hour ago, the autumn sky had been a brilliant blue; calm and tranquil through the trees.
“Come, Whistle.” Bri waved the white marmot to the door in the floor. The animal hesitated, its pink eyes watching her. A pot hit the floor with a crash and Whistle came running, diving down the stairs as Bri dropped the door into place over their heads. She backed down the cellar stairs, the wretched creaking of her beloved home holding her focus on the bit of light shining through the cracks of the hatch door.
Whistle chucked and whistled.
“Hush,” Bri said. “’Tis a storm, nothing more.” Still, she slid the bolt home and backed away, lowering herself down on the dirt floor, patting the cold surface next to her in the dark until her fingers met fur and warmth. She pulled Whistle into her lap, the marmot unusually docile. She ran her hand along course fur from head to tail. “Only a storm,” she whispered.
Had it not been for the footsteps, Bri might have believed her own words. Had it not been for the laughter, her blood might not have run cold. Her heart pounding, she closed her eyes, whispering old, yet powerful words.
“Clay hearth and stone home,
Wind and mountain wood,
Keep away what will harm, let—"
Bri covered her ears at the shriek of twisting, splintering wood and jumped at the explosion of floorboards and light above her.
Sultry laughter grew, filtered by settling dust. Coughing into the back of her hand, Bri lifted her chin, shielding her eyes from the bright sun.
