Swan (A Sexy, Fairytale Short) (6 page)

They just watched me. A shiver ran through me at the memory, and while the short dress and high heels made me uncomfortable and used, they also made me feel like a woman. With every cam show and photo session, I felt steel strengthening my backbone, my heart filling with more confidence and hope. I would beat them all at their own game. Just wait and see, I told myself.
 

To Judy I may still be a pawn to be sold to the highest bidder, but that’s not how I saw myself. This was my coming out party, the moment I could finally do something to help us. We would soon finally be free.
 

I had three boys to take care of. The price would be high, but as I inflated myself with the inner strength I’d been saving for this day, I would rescue us all. Each of our young lives depended on it.

In the twelve years I’d been with Judy, she’d consistently tried to break my spirit. With the cash flowing in and regular appointments at the wax bar to keep me sweet and virginal looking, life was great for everyone in the house, except the four kids who had been forced to survive in that prison. But without those boys, I doubt I’d be alive to tell the tale.
 

The four of us split two bedrooms. I came into the house after Grant, Mason, and Julian. Julian had his own room then, but being the gentleman he is, he forfeited his room instantly for me. From that day forward, I became their sister, mother, and companion, while they bunked in one small bedroom, arguing and laughing like boys do. I had a special relationship with each of them. We were a crew of kids who relied on each other. Like kids at an orphanage mistreated, we supported, connived, cried, and cheered.
 

They would do anything for me, and I would for them.
 

But lately…

Lately I’d been sadder than usual. My recent eighteenth birthday should have been a cause for occasion, but instead I was to be sold exactly a week later. This would do two things: prevent me from finally escaping the terror I’d been fostered into, and turn me into someone’s property. I would be owned by someone. A man. A man I’d never met before, for whom I would cater to his every whim. Would he be mean? Abusive? Old? Married? I knew none of those things, but it didn’t matter. This would be temporary, even if I had to slip money out of his wallet a twenty-dollar bill at a time, I would save every cent until I could afford a place for all of us to live. Somewhere far, far away from Newark’s gritty underground.

I could only hope this man would have some small shred of compassion. And if he didn’t, I would find the nearest crowbar and batter his skull with it before running for my life. It wasn’t a good plan, but it was still a plan. It made me feel better, hopeful.

I’d had over a decade to come to terms with the reality of my life. But I knew I could get us out. I saw it coming.
 

It had to be coming.
 

“I wish you could come with me.” I finally composed myself and muttered to Julian, as he strummed on his guitar across the room. An old beat-up instrument that Julian clung to as if it was his saving grace. We often did this, congregated together in the room the boys shared. Julian ran a hand through his long threads, some falling over this thick lashes before he glanced up. “I’ll get you out of there, Evie. I promise. If it’s the last thing I do.” His hand clutched the neck of the guitar.
 

“No, don’t do that.” I dropped to my knees at his feet. My hands gripped the frayed denim at his stonewashed knees when I saw the pain in his eyes.
 

Julian and I had always been close. He was the oldest, been the first to be placed in this house. I would miss him the most, and I think this would be the hardest on him. He wasn’t ready for this separation any more than I was ready to be traded and sold like a whore.
 

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret. I’ll get out. I’ve been waiting years for this moment.” I faked a smile, but my damp eyelids betrayed me.
 

Julian only shook his head, hair falling in his eyes and shielding his watery gaze from me. I squeezed his knee, then stood, a painful ball rolling in my stomach at the thought of what the next twenty-four hours might hold.
 

As much as they'd tried, they couldn’t protect me from all the horrors at home. The first night I failed to earn less than a grand doing “modeling” as she called it, Judy smacked me across the face and hollered she couldn’t wait till I turned eighteen so she could dump me on some asshole.
 

I’d shuddered then. It’d been her simple prophecy.
 

Think you’re done when you’re eighteen, sweet Eve?
 

Not likely.
 

My brothers, my saviors. I am so thankful I’ll never have to know what I would have done without them in this ugly world.
 

“I love you, boys.” I placed a kiss on Grant's forehead. All the tears had been shed in the days and weeks leading up to this. We were each empty, the pain in our hearts a permanent cross to bear. I hugged each of them tightly, knowing this wouldn't be the last time I saw them, but unsure of when the next time would be, and I walked out the door, to my fate. The next twenty-four hours would change everything.

Look for WHITE on June 5!

For more safe and sexy modern fairytales, look for
White
on June 5, and
Scarlet
in July.

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BLACK

(
Available in KindleUnlimited now!
)

by

ARIA COLE

One

Maxwell

I gazed out the crystalline windows from a dark corner in the quaint library, taking in the vibrant green of the town common and the gently lapping waves of the aqua lake beyond. My eyes took in the silvered sparkle of sunlight highlighting each small crest before it kissed the shore and receded back again. My thoughts spun away with me as I watched, feeling anxious as I hid away in this tiny upstate town, watching the world from this tiny library window.

I’d spent summers swimming in that lake, the two months of the year it was warm enough for swimming. I remembered the warmth caressing my skin and sending jolts of vitamin D energy running through my cells. Playing catch and running improvised bases in the town common as a boy. I remembered those days so fondly, but fear had strangled pleasure these last few years and chained me like a beast in the cellar.

I loved this library more than myself. My life was imprinted into the inky pages of these hardbacks. My heart came alive as I passed through the aisles, my fingers ghosting along the dusty covers. I liked being locked up here. At least most days. Human contact was best kept at minimum; I’d quickly come to realize that. Sitting up here alone in my palace suited me. I paid the bag boy to deliver my food. I scheduled the mail to come directly to my steps instead of the post office box. I didn’t do gatherings, holidays were pointless as I didn’t have anyone to spend them with, and Sunday afternoons in the park were in the far distant past.

I missed the sunlight on my skin all afternoon, bronzing the body and easing away the anxiety. But after that night—the night that changed my life and left me with so many scars, visible and internal—I hadn’t been able to step outside in public for fear of the shame. The ridicule. The flat-out gawking. Call it what you like, but I wasn’t one for subjecting myself to judgment, and the people in this town had stockpiles of it.

I might have grown up here, I might have been the town’s golden boy at one time, but not anymore.

Now I was the moody bastard that lived above the library and had a fucking panic attack every time I left the castle. Every time I descended those three steps, flashbacks overtook me, my heart raced and my palms tingled, and a sense of revenge so large hit me it was nearly debilitating. The only time I saw anyone was when they came into my library. Human contact was best in minimal doses. I allowed people into my sanctuary in very controlled doses, from nine to four each day, and never on weekends. Small talk with the librarian strongly discouraged.

Thankfully, I didn’t need to announce that last part. The scar did that for me.

I ran a finger across the worn copy of
The Count of Monte Cristo
I kept at my desk. Not a library book, but mine. A treasured edition. Books were the only things that had been with me through it all. I’d never found solace in people; I’d found nothing but pain and betrayal and lies. Books provided shelter and support and encouragement.

Once in a great while, I allowed myself the privilege of sitting out on the small stoop of the library when the sun was shining bright and only first thing in the morning, before the rest of the town awoke. But despite my disdain for people, I loved sharing books. Sharing the written word with people who could really feel a story and understand it, could sense the loss and blip of anxiety that shudders the heart when you close the pages on a favorite book. I wanted people to feel that.

I liked sharing the fantasy.

But was this my fantasy? My eyes crawled across the polished woodwork I’d sanded and stained tirelessly through the night to restore when I’d decided to open the place. The Spruce Lake Public Library was my dream come true, but I found myself craving more. I hadn’t been on a date in years. What was the point? It felt like I’d have too much to hide because baring my dark soul would surely send any woman running the other way.

But sometimes, on the nights that my thoughts overtook me, I dared to hope for someone to share my life with. I dreamed of a girl with eyes that sparkled, a laugh that made me weak in the knees, and a heart so big she could fit mine in it. Someone who could see past the moody, abrasive demeanor, and the thousand quirks that made me a man unlike any other.

Someone who could see past the scar and into my soul.

A revelation sliced through my heart. For the first time ever, I wanted to feel love.

I’d just never found a woman brave enough to love a man like me.

The sun began its slow descent behind the horizon as I pulled my thoughts away from all the things that were too painful for me to consider before noticing it was officially closing time. I took long strides across the gleaming wood before turning the latch and flipping the sign on the door. Closed. Just a few more tasks and then I could retreat to my sanctuary upstairs for the rest of the night.

I returned to the circulation desk and gathered a small pile of returned books into my arms before setting off down the aisles to re-shelve them. I turned a corner and growled when I saw that the irresponsible little shits that’d been here earlier had pulled out dozens of titles, reading and giggling in the back corner of my library after school for the sole purpose of my intense irritation, and not returned the books to their proper homes.

“Damn,” I cursed as a quick
rap, rap
on the front door sent a bundle of hardbacks crashing to my feet.

I took my time, lifting the books from the floor and placing them back on the shelf with care—this was a library not a zoo, and I wished all kids under the age of eighteen could be barred from this sacred space. They didn’t have respect for the written word. Not yet. That took time, experience, an appreciation for the blood, sweat, and tears of life.

Rap, rap, rap.

I stalked from among the aisles, my eyes steering to the door as fat drops of rain rinsed down the windows, a drowned out creature staring back at me, large brown eyes as wide as saucers as I approached.

“What the hell?” I murmured as I twisted the heavy latch that I’d locked only two minutes ago, at closing time. “Closed,” I growled on reflex upon opening the door. A meek little creature soaked and in a rush. Her sweet, rain-dampened scent curled around my nostrils as she shuffled into my library. She stripped off her dripping coat and scarf, hanging it on the small rack just inside the door before running one hand through dark, tangled locks and sending a new burst of her scent into my nostrils. My eyes closed for a moment as I soaked it up, my thighs tightening and cock flexing with increased arousal.

“I’m here for the job.” She thrust a folded application at me. My dick pounded in my pants, begging for release. Take her. Own her. Eat. Feed. Bite. Devour.

“You’re late. We’re closed,” I informed her, unsure why I was being so abrasive to such a sweet, doe-eyed little thing.

“Sorry, I only just found out about the job. Please? I’m desperate. I’ll do anything you need me to do.” Her voice was surprisingly throaty, like she’d smoked a few cigarettes or spent a wild night screaming through roof-shattering sex.

Either way, I liked her.

A lot.

Her big brown eyes peered up at me, and I realized she was waiting for my reply. I turned to the circulation desk and re-adjusted my needy cock before placing the crinkled application on the polished wood and turning to her.

“Well, you’re the only one that applied, so it looks like you’ve got the job.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened and she advanced, the soft cotton of her shirt draped across her round and perky tits, making my mouth water. I let my gaze linger a moment longer as her nipples hardened into stiff peaks.

Fuck, I wanted to run my hands up her curvy little body, tear that flimsy barrier from her skin, and have my way with her. The beast that lived deep inside my gut rattled the cage as my heartbeat slammed in wild beats through my cock. “Familiar with libraries?” I stalked back down the aisle I’d been in before she’d appeared on my stoop. I shelved a few more books, unwilling to look in her direction, irrationally angry that she had this effect on me. Who was this woman walking into my library and causing me to act like a goddamn animal?

“Spent a lot of time in them in school,” she finally offered.

She was close behind me, much closer than I would have guessed. Much too close for her safety. I almost felt like warning her off, but instead I said, “This place is small. Non-fiction, fiction, end-cap for the dirty romance novels—lot of women come in asking for that one—” I cut my dark gaze to her as I pointed at one with a sexy cover. Her eyes flared, cheeks pinking up the sweetest shade of rose I’d ever seen. I imagined the shade her nipples might turn when she was aroused. Dark rose? Dusky pink? The riddle rattled through my lascivious brain on repeat.