Dollars (Dollar #2)

Those commandments were doable.

I took another sip before my stomach decided it’d had enough and tiredness settled like a cloak instead.

Elder stood in silent reproach.

I sat taller in my chair, trying to seem stronger than I was.

“Don’t fear me, silent one, but don’t push me either. When I know what I want from you—other than who you are—I’ll let you know. And I’ll expect you to do what I want. But until then…” His fingers uncurled, depositing an impeccable sailboat origami by my broken hand. “I won’t touch you. You have my word.”

Striding to the door, he added, almost too low to hear as if it was purely for him. “I won’t touch you for my sake rather than yours.”

I spun in the chair as quickly as my bruised ribs would allow.

What do you mean by that?

Pausing on the threshold, Elder said, “I have work to do. Have a bath, a nap, write—whatever you want. I’ll summon you when I’m done.” Giving me a cool smile, he pointed at the coffee table in the sunken lounge where a black box with a grey ribbon rested. “Your notes to the person you call No One are all there. When you’re ready to talk, you can’t lie to me. Not after I’ve had the privilege of reading your darkest thoughts.”

I swallowed hard.

Those weren’t for you, you bastard.

My unbroken hand balled as he bowed slightly. “Until we meet again.” Then he was gone, slipping like a shadow from the room.

His presence lingered, giving me no peace. My anger that he’d invaded my privacy and read my letters boiled over as I clutched the origami boat. The urge to crush it was strong, but the memory of why he’d made it made me pause.

He’d sat beside me and created this gift because he understood what it meant. He’d given me something of value. Yet, he’d also taken something of value away.

He’d robbed me of my confessions. He’d read what wasn’t his to read.

Stroking the fine creases of such an intricate little boat, I marvelled at how his brutal fingers had made something so delicate. If he could hold something so gently and twist common into beauty…then perhaps he wasn’t like Alrik, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, he spoke the truth when he said he wouldn’t hurt me. And if that was the case, then whatever payments he expected in return would be paid, if not willingly, at least less painfully than before.

As the sea rolled beneath my feet and the horizon welcomed with turquoise water, I forced myself to admit that this was just another prison, and he was just another puppeteer, but at least, I was still alive.

I would survive.

Because that was what I was born to do.





“SURELY, YOU MUST have a forwarding number.”

The woman on the other end of the phone was less than fucking helpful. “No. The home line was disconnected after multiple non-payments. We requested the bill payer contact us on three occasions and never received any answer.” Her huff echoed loud in my ear. “That’s normal protocol. And like I told you many times, we don’t have any forwarding details or reasons why the invoices went unpaid with no further communication.”

That was what worried me. Where had Pimlico’s mother vanished to? In my experience, if someone disappeared, it was usually from bad situations. Either from committing a crime and running from the law (was she involved with Pim’s abduction?) or becoming the victim of such an incident (like her daughter).

Ever since Pimlico entered her home number into my phone at Alrik’s, I’d bided my time to use it against her. The digits were as good as a treasure map to who Pim was. And if I could figure out who she was before I lost myself to whatever urges she manifested, the better for both of us.

I wasn’t good with secrets. I wasn’t good with things I wanted but couldn’t have. I wouldn’t rest until I’d turned an inconsequential phone number into the truth.

“At least let me know the bill payer’s full name. I’ll do my own research seeing as you’re determined not to help.”

“Can’t give out personal information.”

“It’s an old account and of no value to you. If not the name, give me the address.”

She sighed dramatically. “Listen, like I just said. No can do.”

Goddammit, I hated technology. If I was in front of her, I could’ve subtly bribed her to give me what I wanted. With miles of ocean between us and a crackly phone line, I had no way of changing her mind. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

She chirped smugly, “Nope. Have a nice day.”

The dial tone buzzed in my ear as she hung up. That just fucked me off. I respected her doing her job but being rude was not permitted under any circumstances.

Bitch.