Chapter 1
Chapter
One
SIMONA
“ L adies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We have a small issue and will be diverting to the closest airport. I assure you there is nothing to worry about. We’re dealing with an electrical fault affecting our landing lights and restricting our ability to land at night. The closest airport is only ten minutes away, and we will have you safely on the ground very soon.”
A collective groan circles through the coach cabin like a cold wind in winter, putting everyone in a nasty mood. The woman next to me sighs in frustration before she laughs. It sounds a little frantic, but I don’t know her, her emotional flip-flopping might be how she is. I flick to the next song on my phone, and Koded’s latest song fills my ears, while I finish writing in my journal.
I go back to writing, but the lady sitting next to me says something, and I have to pull my ear buds out to hear her. “You watch, they’ll put us in a dumpster hotel, but honestly, who’s going to sleep tonight? It’s New Year’s Eve. You know it’s weird, I paid hundreds to attend dinner at Swansea’s, but between you and me, I’m so relieved I can’t go now. That’s weird, right? I think I’m more excited to spend New Years in a random town, with complete strangers. For one night, I can be whatever I want to be and that sounds fucking decadent.”
She talks a mile a minute, and the flare of her enthusiasm is infectious. Her floral scent gets spicier the more she talks, and it’s a subtle reminder she doesn’t pose any threat. “Guess I’ll have to make a night of it here, instead!”
The truth is though, if we were to crash into the middle of the Ocean, I’d make a night out of that too. Since Brody and all the families left, I have continued to do a lot of soul mending. I’ve got a long way to go, but my recovery has turned a different corner. I’m keen to live each day to the fullest—and on my terms.
I will never confess how elated I was when I discovered another of Brody’s parting gifts. Booking me coach, as opposed to a private charter, would be bringing him so much joy right now, but the idiot misjudged me completely. I want to experience as much as I can away from him, and flying coach means I’m around normal people, like my seat neighbour. I feel like I have won the lottery.
“I’m Melanie, by the way. You know what, you and I can get a room together if you want,” Melanie offers as she starts scrolling on her phone.
“You are too kind. I’m not going out though. I plan on ordering pizza and reading a book.” I go to slide my earbuds back in. I think she’s ignoring me, but when I look at her, she’s engrossed in her phone. Not even hearing me or the hostess preparing the cabin for landing.
“I’m sorry but your plans just changed.” She obviously heard me, but now I’m confused about her last comment. Her eyes are round like saucers when she twists in her seat, shoving her phone in my face. “Do you see that?”
She points to the screen so I can see what has her so excited: Koded. And like nearly everyone else with a heartbeat, I can appreciate her enthusiasm. Koded is all the rage right now—his music, which I’m currently binging, is incredible. He’s reached god status—if gods could sing like angels and look like sin incarnate. Although with Koded, you just knew there’s sinful beneath the surface. No one has ever seen him without his mask. It’s his thing.
“Honestly, I think you need to reconsider. All your book boyfriends will forgive you, they’ll never let you down, and I guarantee each of them will be waiting for you in the morning, but you need to go out.” She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “It’s Koded! Jesus, he is fucking amazing.”
“Let me think about it,” I say, once she gets distracted by trying to figure out her night.
Landing is smooth, what happens next, not so much.
The lady at the help desk is tired. You can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. She’s trying to help me locate my missing bag, but nothing is working.
“I’m sorry, the best we can do is contact you when we find your bag, and then you can arrange a courier.” She smiles, but it’s pretty clear our conversation ends there. “The bus for your hotel is at stop three, and included in your room is breakfast, but you’ll have to cover dinner, sorry. Your flight is rescheduled for eight in the morning. Again, I apologise on behalf of the airline, but customer safety is our priority. Next.”
My phone buzzes with the ticket details, and I step out of line so the person behind me can hopefully get out of here too.
I shouldn’t feel this excited, but I do. The sense of freedom seems to be growing with every breath I take. The only blight on my horizon is knowing I need to check in with someone from back home.
When I hit Mom’s contact, my phone doesn’t make a sound. Checking the screen, I try again with the same result. Figuring I’m in a dead spot, I move through the airport, searching for a stronger signal. But no matter where I go, nothing.
Standing in line for the bus with only one bag instead of two, I try once more. This time, instead of dead silence, a notification pops up from my carrier. My phone has a block on outgoing calls.
I laugh. People look at me weirdly and take a step back, probably expecting a breakdown. But my laughter isn’t because I’m stressing out; it’s pure, bubbling elation. I’d bet money that Brody intentionally did this to my phone account, probably as another reminder of how much he ‘owns’ me. But instead of scaring me, I take it as a sign from the universe that I am free. Free to make decisions.
Down at the next bus stop, my seat buddy from the flight is standing. She looks at me at the same time I look at her, and I throw caution to the wind.
I turn to the man next to me, hoping I’m reading him properly as he looks kind.
“Do you mind watching my bag for a second? I just need to talk quickly to my friend.”
“Of course,” he says, shuffling to protect my spot in the queue and my single bag.
Racing down to my new friend, she’s already doing a happy dance. “You’re coming, right?”
“I mean, it is Koded. I have nothing to wear though. One of my bags has been lost, and I don’t have any money on me.”
My words get swallowed up, and before she can say another word, I’m logging on to my banking app and am completely unsurprised when I see that my account only has fifty dollars in it .
“Did you win the lotto or something?” she asks. “You’re smiling like a crocodile.”
I shake my head, putting my phone away with another smile. “I’m seriously thinking I am on a lucky streak. I have no bags, no clothes, and apparently fifty dollars is my allowance. I’m still coming though. Stuff it.”
“There’s the spirit. We can totally rock this town. Are you staying at the Meriton?”
“Yes!”
Her bus pulls up. “Good. I’ll wait in the lobby for you, and we can get ready together.”
Order doesn’t return anytime soon. Everything seems to go wrong, but Melanie and I go with the chaotic flow of events. I keep focussing on being here, miles away, and I pretty much accept the weird chain of events as they happen. It starts when I get off the bus and find Melanie holding up two costumes because apparently the New Year’s Eve event/concert Koded is playing is fancy dress. Stranger still, right next to our hotel, a costume shop is open.
“Right, so we were down on options. Catwoman or Cinderella?”
The cat suit is stunning; long arms with a low cut back, the mask is built into it and the ears are so damn cute but it’s glow-stick yellow. It’s not me at all, but apparently tonight it is. Melanie said she was going to be whoever she wanted to be for one night, and it seems I’m borrowing her mindset.
I don’t get the chance to reply, she’s off talking again. “Actually, I’m going with Cinderella. There’s no way I’ll be able to get in and out of that suit. I’m an excited pee-er. You know what I mean?”
“Well then, meow…”
She laughs, and it’s like a squawk. My eyes go round in shock at the noise, only making her squawk even louder .
“Come on, kitty. I’m doing your makeup.” She nabs my hand and drags me into her room.
The chaos continues to weave mischief into our night even before we leave Mel’s room. Like she insisted, Melanie helps me dress and does my kitty whiskers, but her costume won’t zip because of her ginormous boobs. I hadn’t really noticed them before, but now that I’ve seen them they’re impossible to ignore. She looks at ways to make it work, but it’s a lost cause.
I feel bad, because I’ve been wearing the catsuit for a good hour, so it reeks of my sugary sweet cookies and cream scent.
“I guess we should have tried them first,” I offer. “Do you want me to give it a quick rinse?”
Wrapped up in a towel after changing in the bathroom, I hold the catsuit out for her and she rolls her eyes.
“No chance. You know your scent is incredible, right? It suits you. I’m sorry, but no washing it off. Who knows, it might help me get lucky.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively.
“I doubt you need any help in that department.”
We trade costumes, and I slip back into the bathroom to change. No one has ever said that I smell nice. As I zip up the cheap costume, I feel a million times better despite smelling like a tangerine. Her compliment, and the Cinderella dress—which feels more like me—has me feeling lighter than I have in a long time.
Of course she looks like a supermodel in the catsuit. It looks like her body was poured into the neon yellow fabric. She redoes my makeup then slides a lace face mask to cover the top half of my face. After she finishes with mine, I help her with hers.
Another first is added to my list of things I love about being away from home: bonding with someone I’m pretty sure I’ll never see again. It gives me hope that one day I’ll find other women who will be my friends. Brody made it near impossible for me to trust any of the girls back home. He made it painfully clear that all the girls were only talking to me as a way to get to him. I knew it, I guess their reminder was another dent in my armour. One I didn’t need. I wasn’t popular, and I came to terms with that. It’s not something I want, even now, but it is really nice spending time with someone who knows nothing about my past, and who seems to still want to be a friend.
She steps back, and slowly walks around me, tugging the waist down and fluffing up the tulle skirt. Ending up in front of me, Mel rests her hands on my shoulders.
“Let’s go fuck shit up. Tomorrow we go back to being who we’re meant to be, but for the next however many hours, pretend you’re living the life where no-one is watching your every move.”
I tip my head. “How so?”
She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Act like one of the leads in one of your books.” She pops a hip and holds her fingers to count off her argument. “Firstly, they’re usually princesses in disguise. Second, they have a shitty past chasing them down. Third, they always meet their perfect matches at the most unlikely of times. Four, five, six and sometimes seven is the part where shit gets hard and you try not to give up hope, you get so close to giving up but then…”
I flick my eyebrow up expectantly, waving her on to her big reveal.
“The happy ever after! Don’t ever forget that part either. It comes!” It looks like she has more to say, but we get interrupted by a car horn. “Ride’s here! Let’s go.”
I get what she’s saying, and I’m loving the direction she’s aiming for. I’m sure it will work for her, and I’ll adapt what I can, but I’m not as free spirited as she is. No matter how hard I try, I’m not sure I ever could be either.
We arrive at the concert, and I’m consumed by nervousness. This isn’t me. At all.
Mel is eating up the pavement in her excitement and it takes her a minute to realise I’m not behind her. She swings around, narrowing her eyes. “Simona! What are you doing?”
I shake my head and smile because the distance between us has given me a chance to settle everything she stirred up. I suspect she has that ability on any day though. She’d be wonderful in a blizzard; she’d make you believe it was sunny outside.
“You go. This is actually enough for me. And yes, that sounds strange but, hand on heart, today and spending the last few hours with you has been exactly what I needed, but I’m done.”
“You’re not coming? The countdown is literally about to happen!”
“Which is why you should go. I’ll walk back through the way we came, and I’ll grab a taxi or an Uber.”
“Really?” She rushes back. Concern colors her face.
“Honestly. I had the best day. But now I want to go back to the hotel. What we did today, and tonight, has been a dream come true, but I know my limits.”
She swoops in quickly for a hug. “I’m using the argument that you’re a grown woman and have a voice as the only reason I’m not begging and pleading with you to stay.”
Her words are like a whack to the chest; the air rushes out of my lungs at her compliment. After a steadying breath, I find the words I want to say. “I will remember this for a long time, Melanie. Thank you. Now go!”
She gives a wave, stepping back into the crowd and disappearing in the rush of movement.
And I feel amazing. I wasn’t being a downer, I really have had a good day and now I’m ready for the next part, which is away from all the people. The energy is electric; it nips against my skin, and on a different night when there weren’t literally hundreds of thousands of people around, I’d probably get used to it. Right now, though, it’s more draining than energising.
Sticking to the edge of the path into the venue, because there’s a near stampede of everyone wanting to get in, I step off the main thoroughfare and take a smaller one. The street I can see on the opposite end helps give me my bearings; it also looks a lot safer than fighting against the crowd.
Except, I completely missed the mesh fence. It’s high and goes from one side to the other and normally I’d turn around and go back the way I came, because I’m not a rule breaker, but the sheer number of people around has me freezing up. Perhaps this is the part where I pretend to be someone I’m not, but I fix the hem of my dress into my panties, making them a little more like shorts, before I climb up on the dumpster. I have to jump, and it takes a couple of tries, but I eventually manage to pull myself up. I sit up on the cross bar. It’s high, but the air is easier to breathe and the crowd seems less intimidating.
Crawling to the other side, I’m anything but graceful—my feet tangle, and I barely manage to avoiding crashing down. I laugh at myself because, honestly, it’s ridiculous—just like the last few hours have been.
As I walk down the lane, I spot another fence at the far end, but since I conquered the first, I’m confident I can handle the second. I’m about halfway there when a door behind me cracks open. A man stumbles out, coughing and spluttering. I’d keep my distance, but he trips even worse than I did and ends up falling down.
“Are you okay?” I rush to him, a little late because he’s butt up on the ground .
“Jesus fucking Christ! Where’d you come from…” he barks, but his voice is all hoarse and cracks. You can tell he’s sick by the way it croaks. His face is flushed, and his eyes are all feverish but there’s surprise in them when he sees what I’m wearing. “You’re a Princess?”
It takes me a second to respond, honestly my head is spinning. For a few reasons. All of them centred around him. A voice in my head gets overly loud, confirming how much the people back home would loathe someone like this.
The light spilling out from the door silhouettes him, but instead of hiding his features, it seems to highlight them. His black, mussed up hair is clipped short on the sides, but in the front, I want to drag my fingers through the soft curls as they fall forward onto his face. His eyebrows are as dark as his hair—one of them is pierced—and the colour of his eyes is like polished amber—so golden and deep like warmed honey. Which insanely is what he scents like—honey. Not one of the floral types of honey, it’s more textured with overlapping tones of dense woody and earthy smokiness. It suits him.
And it’s endlessly appealing.
I lean back a little in complete shock. Never in a million years would I expect to find someone whose scent spoke to me. And it’s a lot to take in. But even the small distance does nothing to dispel how overwhelming his scent is. What the distance does is give me the chance to see him properly, or better.
He’s dressed in black dress pants but is wearing a singlet top and the white fabric contrasts in near poetic proportions with his golden, honey coloured tan. The colour provides a perfect canvas for the kaleidoscope of numerous tattoos he wears. Words and phrases are interspersed randomly, set amongst flowers and swirls that lean into a mix of tribal and intricate detail, but they sit right alongside both geometric and more abstract ones .
He should be an exhibit at an art gallery—his tattoos are that mesmerising and unique. But his eyes are his drawcard, and not because of the colour. It sounds cliché, but it’s like I can see past the colour, and the glimpse of what I see in his soul is both enough, and not nearly enough. It’s difficult to describe, but the instant I look at him, a wave of connection hits me—intense, almost intimidating. And yet, I think it’s the very feeling every person alive yearns for.
I’m struck silent by a wave of jealousy, which is absurd. No matter how inappropriate it is, there’s no denying I wish I was the person who got to know him and keep him forever. But my path is set, determined by others and cast in stone.
My gaze settles back on his face. There’s a question in his eyes—a reminder that he spoke.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
But just like before, one look into his amber eyes, and my sensibility crumbles even further. My thoughts tunnel, spiralling beyond my control.
Scent. Match. Alpha. Mine. How?
I adjust the mask I’m wearing to hide the way my face flushes. As I move, so does he. It’s like he’s leaning in, searching for reasons.
“It’s you,” he says quickly as he starts coughing.
Before I can go to help him, we’re interrupted by a second person who uses the same door. I get startled, but instead of being intrigued by the tattooed man, a rush of awareness skates over me.
An Alpha bellows at me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I stand up, facing the newcomer. My survival instincts come out of nowhere and kick through the fear. I’m swamped by a need to protect, so much so my fingers ache at how they claw as I get ready to face off with the stranger in order to give the sick man a chance.
It’s not me. I’m usually the ‘yes’ person. I don’t rock the boat; I don’t open my mouth, but I’m ready to throw all that out. Before he can take another step, I take one of my own, blocking his path to the man behind me.
And the Alpha in front of me doesn’t like that one bit.
“Who are you?” I ask, ignoring the question he barked at me. I’m hoping I give the sick man the chance to get to his feet and to make his own decisions about how he handles the newcomer.
I somehow sense the build up of his presence as he climbs to his feet. Then, every hair on my skin stands straight up as he presses a reassuring hand to my back stepping up beside me, still coughing.
“I’m good. I needed some air, Dale. I slipped. Cinderella was helping.”
“Yeah, well I’ve called the cops on Cinderella,” he replies to the sick man, levelling his aggressive focus at me though. “This is a restricted area. The fence should have been the first clue you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.”
I hear the word police and another surge of protectiveness floods my system. This time it is for me. There’s no way I’m going home, and if the police are involved in any way, I’ll be dragged there and the next four years will vanish. I shut my eyes, filling my lungs with the strangers’ very sweet, very addictive honey scent before I open my eyes. He’s watching carefully, I nearly lose myself in his eyes again. I go to say something, explain I’d never put him in danger, but my mouth and brain are offline.
“It’s okay,” he says, and he reaches out a hand for me.
“Bullshit, Rye. There’s a fucking fence for a reason. I’m having her charged. You’re sick, and she’s fucking overstepping boundaries putting you in danger.”
“Settle down, Dale. I said I was fine. You focus on that, since my safety is your concern, and I’m the one telling you I’m fine. ”
The threat and suggestion I’d bring danger to the situation are like a harsh slap of reality. I’m shocked at the immediate sting of his words, but at the same time he’s only telling the truth. I could be anyone. I was so focused on myself and getting out of here, I didn’t think for a second my presence could impact anyone else. I look back at the sick Alpha, Rye.
My stomach knots, and I realise it’s guilt making me feel sick because I put him, and myself, at risk. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t give anyone the chance to speak again, I haul ass towards the fence at the far end of the alley. The guy who said he had called the police gives chase.
The sound of his running fuels my panic, sending a surge of speed and strength through me. Before he can catch me, I’m climbing the fence. This time, I don’t stop to take in the view.
As I go to jump down, my costume snags—the hem catches, and my dress rips clean off. I land hard, nearly rolling my ankle. It hurts but not enough to stop me. Nothing would.
Running in black briefs, a bra and a lace face mask is the only possible end to the crazy chain of events that led me here. I nearly lock up in fear and embarrassment when I step out into the crowd, but strangely, or maybe not considering the calamity of the night, I blend in.