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“—and you’re leaving now.” He speaks over me, too self-absorbed in his own spiel. “Listen, I know things didn’t end well with us, but if you’ve ever loved your sis?—”
And that's where I stop him. I don’t know what comes over me, but all I see is red. One moment, I’m a few feet away from him, and then next—on its own volition—my fist is colliding with his stupid face.
He staggers back, hitting the door. If I wasn’t so angry, I might actually find satisfaction in the look of pure shock on his face.
Yeah, hurts to be kicked while you're down, doesn’t it, buddy?
“Rose…”
Flashing headlights behind me, illuminating the scene, tell me Sister Tammy is here. We’re out of time.
I’m out of time.
“I hope your daughter never realizes how much of a dick her father is,” I say to Stefan, the last words I’ll ever speak to him. Part of me wants to run back in and see Amelia once more, but another part of me knows I’ll change my mind if I do.
I guess she’ll know that, even after all the shit she’s put me through in the last year, I’m still her big sister, and I’ll take care of her.
With that sobering thought, I hike my purse up and head to the car.
“Honey, are you sure you won’t reconsider? I know you want to save your sister, but this is a one-and-done deal. With the power of prayer?—”
“I’m sure. Thank you, Sister Tammy, for driving me here,” I interrupt her before she can dive into a lecture about the power of prayer and why I’m making a big mistake. But my mind is made up. It has been for a long time, even before my sister’s complications from the birth of my niece.
I want out of this hell hole. Too many memories. None of them good.
I guess, in a way, I’m running away from my problems, like Stefan claims I do, but at least something good will come from it.
“Okay, fine. But we are sure going to miss you around here. Grym Hollow won’t be the same without you.” Sister Tammy offers me a sad smile, but doesn’t attempt to argue with me. I see the way her eyes shift from left to right, waiting for something to jump out from the trees or shadows.
I’m barely out of the car before Sister Tammy is peeling out and heading back toward town. Her tires screech down the winding road, and she’s out of sight within seconds, off to do whatever nuns do on a Thursday evening.
I pull my purse closer, using it like a personal shield between me and the man I know very little about. They call him The Guardian. He’s unofficially in charge of our town, determining who comes in and who leaves. I’ve lived in Grym Hollow my entire life, and the only new residents are the ones born here.
People leave, not many, and those who do, never come back.
I signed the contract. My fate is already sealed. I’ll be a story the people in town talk about, embellished with whatever lies will gain the gossiper the most listeners. Rose Briar: the brokenhearted woman who was betrayed by her sister and boyfriend of four years. Poor Rose. She just couldn’t stand to see their happiness.
I take a minute to gather myself and to take in the house before me. On the outside, nothing appears out of the ordinary. It’s a small cottage with a low-pitched gable roof. A covered patio surrounds the front of the house, decorated with plants and a comfortable-looking seating area.
The house looks like it jumped right out of a storybook. Like it belongs to someone’s grandma they visit for cookies and milk before reminiscing about the joyful times of their childhood.
I doubt The Guardian has made me baked goods to welcome me to his home.
His oddly normal-looking home.
I make it two steps up the sidewalk before the door to The Guardian’s home bursts open. A man—and I use that term very loosely—surveys his surroundings before walking out. He looks so strangely out of place, having to duck his head to leave his own home.
The Guardian doesn’t try to pretend he’s human, neither in his appearance nor mannerisms. His skin is an ashy-gray color, reminding me of a skipping stone you’d find near a lake. His eyes are golden, and he’s wearing loose-fitting jeans and a shirt that does little to hide the muscles underneath.
He also has horns. Like two large, prominent horns on the top of his head, ending in sharp points that look like they could cause serious damage to anyone unfortunate enough to piss him off. And yet I have the urge to reach out and touch them.
“Ms. Briar, you’re early. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” His tone is curious rather than annoyed. I take that as a good sign.
“Yeah, that was the plan. Unfortunately, my sister took a turn for the worse tonight, and I feared waiting another day would kill her.” Despite the anger and resentment I have toward Amelia, she is still my sister. I don’t want her dead, and I don’t want my niece to grow up without a mother.
The Guardian nods like he understands the problems of mortals, but I doubt he does. “I see. And the contract?”
Of course, the contract. He won’t do shit until he sees my name at the bottom. I quickly rummage through my purse, pulling out a wrinkled packet before handing it to him. “You know, this would have been a lot easier to go through and sign if you sent me an editable PDF.”
