“Since I know you, and we’ve worked together before, I’ll pay upfront for all of them.”
“How much?” I whisper, even as the thought of selling my story only for it to be butchered threatens to make me ill.
But the sum he names is not negligible. In fact, it may very well be the difference between life and death for Nykander.
“I’ll take it,” I say, and sign away the rights to a small part of my soul.
At least I will be able to help my love. That is all that matters. More book ideas will come to me—that is what I tell myself as I reluctantly leave the notebooks behind.
If I have one regret, it is that I never shared the original story with Nyk. I promised he could read it when I was done, and now that promise will have to be broken.
But he will understand. He always understands.
So why do I still feel so empty, even when my pockets are full?
55
My fingers search relentlessly, but it seems I’ve hit the bottom of the bucket.
No more popcorn for you, Barbi.
Ugh! Just when things were getting interesting, I run out of popcorn. Now I have to run back into town and see who has thisdargucrop that is similar to corn in my world so I can make myself some more popcorn. It’s already rare as it is, so it will be quite bothersome.
“I should have bought more when we first went into town,” I tell PomPom as she circles around my bed. BonBon is sleeping in his bed with Ander, both of them snuggled up. He’s such a well behaved male—unlike someone else I know.
Ahhhh. So cute! I want to run over there and crush them to my chest. I don’t do that, of course. It would disturb their sleep. I’ll just have to suffer in silence from thiscute-but-do-not-disturb-syndrome.
I put the empty popcorn bucket to the side and grab some chocolate.
PomPom jumps up on the bed beside me, sniffing what I have in my hands.
“Not for you, love,” I tell her gently as I pop the chocolate in my mouth. “If only there was a type of chocolate good for dogs in this world. It’s unfair you’ll never know this divine taste.”
Denied after three or four attempts, she settles at my feet, not so gently tugging on my socks.
“Fine. Have them.”
I take them off and she immediately steals one—she can’t fit both in her mouth at the same time—and runs off somewhere to munch on it.
I shake my head, smiling at her antics.
“Moe… no…” His strangled voice calls for my attention.
I glance to the side where a ceiling-high mirror reflects his current condition.
Metaphoric chains keep him suspended in a sea of red, his skin so broken, bone pokes out. Then it heals. Then I break his skin again just so I can hear him squirm a little.
Still in the Lake, he’s in the throes of a nightmare. Luckily for me, I get to not only witness it but also steer it in whatever direction I want. So far, I’m quite proud of the little appearances I’ve made in his hellish memories.
Not only can I control what he remembers and what he forgets, but I can also project Moe’s memories onto him so that his regret becomes a hundred fold.
Ah, but to see him delighted at ourfriendshiponly to realize I’ve been his jailor and torturer all along has given me far too much joy. Well, that’s what he deserves for daring to deceive me!
The gall on him to think he could just take my body and replace my soul with his beloved Moe! Agh! Just remembering that moment before he killed me—well,triedto, and failed—makes me want to double his torture.
Joke’s on him, though! Not only did I survive the Lake, but I also came out before him, just in time to ensure his journey in that bloody water would be a memorable one.
What I didn’t count on, to be perfectly honest, is seeing his past and the way he lived his life before we met. He was so wretched, evenIfelt sorry for him at times. Of course, not enough to forget everything he’s done quite yet. For that he needs another dose of suffering.
