Chapter Four
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Me personally, I don’t think the influences are bad at all.
Wolfe
“You have the letter?” Almond whispers, leaning flat against the brick walls lining the alleyway between Hunter’s Moon and Gingerbread bakery. Her pink hair contrasts starkly against the all black outfit she’s donned for the occasion, complete with thick, dark stripes painted across her cheeks.
“I have the letter,” I reply, fisting Leora’s last letter to me in my hand, a reminder of why I’m doing this—beyond the fact that Sterne and Almond wouldn’t let it go last night and threatened to kidnap me if I didn’t meet them in this alleyway at 11:30 sharp today.
Sterne and Almond are the answer to the question “Why would you actually perform an abduction?”, and this letter is the answer to “Why would you kidnap Leora Mouton?”
My best friend and my sister are insane, and Leora is a letter with the power to control the beats of my heart.
I run my empty hand down my jeans to wipe off the gathering sweat, then tug at my standard-issue Blackwood Barbs T-shirt.
Sterne, also in jeans and a T-shirt, shakes his head at my sister.
“This isn’t a secret kidnapping,” he reminds her.
Again. “This is a by-the-books, out-in-the-open, totally legal kidnapping. It’s not too late to wash the paint off your face and put on something a little less secret agent super spy. ”
Almond’s nose wrinkles. “You guys take all the fun out of everything. Where’s your sense of whimsy?”
“Yeah, your brother who does art for a living and is about to IRL meet his snail mail pen pal after several years of avoiding each other to keep the pen pal magic alive lacks a sense of whimsy. That makes loads of sense.”
She huffs. “Well, then, you are boring and lack whimsy.”
“Is that Emerson Wright?” he asks, pointing to the street behind her.
Almond squeaks, jumps, turns, runs into the brick wall, squeaks again, then lowers into a puddle on the ground.
Sterne snorts. “Who’d you say was boring?”
I sigh. “Can we limit the torture to one Blackwood sibling today?” I ask.
“If Almond’s a mess, then I can’t be a mess.
It’s one at a time, and I’m calling dibs on all mess today.
I can’t believe I let you all talk me into this horrible, terrible, consent-ignoring plan.
She said no. With her words. Clearly. Sorry, but no, she said.
You remember I told you that? She might as well have written it in giant neon lights and posted it up on the water tower on the hill.
” The letter crinkles in my hand as my breaths quicken.
“This is awful. This is the worst idea any of us have ever had. We need to leave. We need to leave and never come back.”
My torturers make eye contact and grimace. Sterne helps Almond off the ground, then they turn to me.
“We went over this,” Sterne says slowly—steadily.
“That ‘no’ was not in any way clear. You asked on Discord; the ‘no’ was in a letter. You can’t remember if you asked her any questions in your last letter to her; the ‘no’ could have been an answer to some forgotten query.
You didn’t get a reply on Discord at all, and she hasn’t emoji reacted to any Amia photos since, implying there is a chance she’s been off Discord for several days and hasn’t seen your message at all yet.
Too many variables. We must go to the source. ”
“Something I could have—and should have—done via letter instead of selfishly invading her personal space and making her feel uncomfortable.”
“Right,” Sterne agrees. “Except that actually I’m the one being selfish by forcing you into this because the last thing I want to do is spend the next five-to-seven days comforting and reassuring you as you wait for a reply to come in the post when the person you want an answer from works two blocks away from where you live.
I’ve got things to do, and babysitting you isn’t one of them, no matter how much I love you.
I’m a problem solver, Wolfy, and I’m solving a problem, Leora’s questionable consent is the least of my worries. ”
Almond nods her head vigorously. “Yeah, Wolfe. Sterne’s being a big selfish red flag.
Your conscience is clear! And since it’s nice and clear and all, you’ve got a clean slate to get to work on.
Perhaps you would consider channeling some of his big selfish red flag energy?
Villain romance for my sweet friend Leora? ”
“Never say the words ‘villain’ and ‘romance’ strung together like that to me again.”
“If Wolfe channels my big selfish red flag energy, then I won’t be able to bully him into doing things he doesn’t want to do anymore,” Sterne notes with a frown. “You keep that kind of negative energy away from us.”
Almond throws her hands up. “Fine,” she grumps. “But you better have a mega entertaining villain romance, Sterne Donavon, to make up for Wolfe’s lack.”
Sterne’s usually mildly-amused-at-best face darkens as a broad grin stretches his features taut. “I’d accept nothing less.”
“Stop being scary,” I grouse. “I’m having a crisis here.”
His evil mellows to a point where the sun feels free to shine in the alley again, and his menacing aura slithers out in the bright rays. “You’re not having a crisis,” he declares. “You’re having cold feet. An easy thing to mistake, and an equally easy thing to fix.”
“Yes,” I agree. “By not committing a crime in broad daylight.”
“No,” he retorts. “By getting the crime over with so we can move on to the more fun parts of the story. You can’t spend four chapters will-he-won’t-he-ing the kidnapping plot, Wolfe. Just do the thing.”
“I can spend four chapters doing whatever I want,” I huff. “If it’s my book, then it’s my prerogative.”
“Maybe,” Almond says. “But the hottest male leads get stuff done. They don’t dither about it for six thousand words. Don’t you want to be hot?”
“Stop saying ‘hot’ to me. And no, not really. I want to be a good father, a good brother, a decent son, and a caring friend. Zero percent of those things require hotness.”
“Screw hotness,” Sterne says, eliciting a scowl from Almond.
“You said yourself that you want to be more take charge in your life. What’s more take charge than this?
” He lays his hands on my shoulders, emerald-green eyes intense as they clash with mine.
“Are you a wolf or a puppy? Will you conquer your fears, or will you cower in the face of them?”
“Cower,” I answer. “Definitely cower. At home, preferably, and not leaning against the side wall of Leora’s business.”
Sterne makes a buzzer sound. “Wrong answer. We’re conquering today, my friend, and we’re doing it now.” With that, he spins me around, digs his hands into my back, and shoves.
I stumble onto the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding a run-in with old man Rory while Almond giggles behind me.
“Sorry, Rory,” I say. “Blame Sterne.”
The older man’s eyes twinkle with mirth as he shrugs off my apology. “No worries, Wolfe. But maybe don’t hang out with strange men in back alleys, yeah? It’s not good for your health.”
“What about me?” Sterne asks, the tug of a smile at the edge of his lips. “Any wisdom to impart?”
Rory grins. “You’re beyond help, I fear.”
Almond pops up beside us, snorting. “You can say that again.”
Sterne rolls his eyes.
“What are you lot getting up to, then?” Rory asks.
“A kidnapping,” Almond answers happily.
I choke.
Rory laughs. “I see the children are up to what they’ve always been up to.”
“You can say that again,” Sterne replies wryly. “We’re on a schedule, though, Rory. I apologize, but we can’t chat much. I have to be back at the station in fifteen.”
“Oh, go on,” Rory says. “Have your fun. Leave the old men to rot.”
“And you rot oh-so-beautifully,” Almond flirts, fluttering her lashes at the man. He winks at her, then trots off with an extra dose of pep in his step.
“I’m gonna throw up,” I announce.
“Oh, come on.” Almond rolls her eyes. “He’s, like, a hundred years old. I know I’m your baby sister, but this is ridiculous.”
“Not that,” I hiss. “That.”
She follows my gaze to Hunter’s Moon’s storefront window. Sterne does the same, then curses.
“I think we’ve lost the element of surprise,” I quease. “And I think, also, that we should abandon this ridiculous scheme and go home.”
Almond winces.
“That’s quitter loser talk,” Sterne grumbles. “And you are not a quitter loser. Wolf up, Wolfy. You’re getting your girl. Today, or so help me, I will kidnap you both and lock you in a room together until you’ve figured it out.”
“I’m gonna throw up on her,” I mutter, growing more nauseous by the minute.
“No need to be sick,” Almond says. “Look. She’s looking right at you, and she doesn’t look like she hates what she sees. That’s good news. That’s opposite of throwing up type news. We carry on.”
She’s right, Leora is looking right at me.
Directly. Ten feet away, separated by only glass, the woman I love has her pale green eyes locked on…
my shoulders. No, my biceps. My chest. My stomach.
My forearms. My… okay, so her eyes aren’t exactly locked on anything.
Instead, they rove, over my clothes and my skin, skimming the lines of the tattoos that cover almost all of the portions of my body available for her perusal.
I allow myself a fleeting glimpse of her own angelic form, curves covered in drapes of purple fabric, sinful thoughts beneath royal clothing.
I shake my head, disgusted with myself. No sinful thoughts. No angelic forms. I have not been invited to partake of any such thing in any such way. Chastised, I focus my gaze on only the bits of her visage that reside above her collarbone.
I fear it does not help my wayward thoughts.
I’ve never seen her this close before, not in real life.
I’ve done my fair share of social media stalking, of course, but pictures do nothing to capture the beauty of her.
Fading purple hair falls against her cheeks, framing a face that could make a man weep.
I nearly succumb to the urge myself, wanting nothing more than to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness for ever having dared to step into her presence.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper.
Sterne grabs hold of my arm before I can bolt.
“Look at her,” I implore, unable to tear my eyes away. “Sterne, look.”
“I see her,” he replies. “And that’s exactly why you are doing this.”
Then his grip tightens, and, suddenly, I am doing this.
Whether I want to or not.