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Money. First thing to establish was funds.
The clothes in her closet were smart enough that if she was Stateside, selling them would be her first choice. Unfortunately, being so far from home, she didn’t know the process or even where to trade them for money.
Her purse was in the Beast somewhere… probably. She hadn’t seen it for a while. With Hugo paying for everything and cars always waiting to take her places, carrying money to cover essentials hadn’t been necessary in Vegas.
In the back of one closet was another. The damn place was like Narnia. In that internal closet was a locked safe… she didn’t know the combination. There was a purse next to it. Hermes.
Designer labels didn’t matter, but it was lucky she snooped inside. There was local currency, two hundred pounds. Also an ID card with her picture and, she guessed, their current address. The first name was hers. The second? Sherwood. Cute. Zeus never missed a chance to piss off Harry.
Still, it was better than nothing.
A key hung on a loop attached to the bag; it had to be for the apartment. There was a cellphone too. That she didn’t touch. It stayed in the closet with the purse. The cash, key, and ID went with her.
She didn’t know where she was going. In a strange city, staying put may make better sense. Zeus had told her she could leave. That she had permission to roam the city. As long as she didn’t abuse his kindness. Whatever that meant. He hadn’t been precise about what he’d count as an abuse.
The only option was to play it minute by minute. Dinner the previous night was her introduction to Zeus. He’d revealed more of himself on the call. But she still didn’t have the complete measure of him. Conniving and clever, he, as far as she knew, hadn’t gone through the same training as Harry or worked missions the way Daire and the other guys had. That didn’t mean he couldn’t weave his own con. Trusting him, even a little, would be a mistake. Unless something major changed, she couldn’t see that ever being an issue.
She didn’t wait around for anyone to come to her door or call her for breakfast. The sun was high in the sky and the beautiful park beyond her window beckoned her to explore.
Something took precedence over acquainting herself with the greenery. Slipping out of the apartment, she went down in the elevator to ask at reception for the location of the nearest coffee place.
Thank God, it wasn’t far. Crossing the street and merging into the pedestrians meandering and hurrying through the busy streets, she took her time to breathe and look around. The sun was glorious, though in the city streets, she only got to walk in the occasional patch of it. The coffeehouse was a famous one from her own country, a comforting taste of home. The available drinks weren’t all the same and the staff had their own accents, but she got what she needed to takeout.
The smell in the air, the sensation of it on her face, London was intriguing… as a city… at least so far. It would be better if Daire was there to show her around, to keep her company. They could have a lot of fun in another country together.
Passing Harrods, hiding her smile behind her cup, she wanted her Heart to think of her like she thought of him. Happy, rather than frustrated or scared. He hadn’t said a word on the call, but what could he say?
Neither of them knew what the Six or the principals thought of their relationship. It could’ve been noticed or maybe not. Apparently, Harry thought she was screwing around with Hugo, so he didn’t recognize any connection between her and Daire. Why should he? They didn’t have a connection… Not a physical one.
Harry trusted his ward to follow orders, to respect his command, hence Daire’s guilt whenever they got intimate. Not that they should. Hadn’t she given him up? They weren’t supposed to be together.
A street up ahead, flooded with light, tempted her to turn. Thoughts of her man worked some kind of spell because right there next to her was a storefront. “Mailboxes.” Stopping to step back and explore the frontage, she was gob smacked. That was it. Exactly what she needed.
Going inside, she couldn’t believe her luck. She could pay for a private mailbox. A few forms, some money changes hands and then boom, a way to communicate with her Heart.
If she wasn’t careful, Zeus could find out. Daire wouldn’t slip up. Even if they were writing to each other, he’d be careful not to say anything that could translate as useful to Zeus. She wasn’t trained but would do her best to be indirect.
It helped that by ordering her fabrics to the house, she knew the address by heart. If things were still the same over there, Daire checked the mail before anyone else. It could work. It could really work.
After everything was setup, she asked for directions to the nearest post office and went to purchase everything she needed. Instead of exploring the park, she found a quiet corner to sit and connect with her lover on the other side of the world. Former lover…
People say we can’t avoid becoming our parents. Before today, I’d have denied I ever would. But there’s irony in this parallel, right?
Here I am, reaching out to you, aware anyone could intercept these words. Writing when I know I shouldn’t. When it’s dangerous, but I can’t stop myself. I have to connect with you somehow.
I know you don’t trust my mouth and I’m no good with subtle. Those facts alone should be enough to stop me putting ink on paper. So why am I doing this? Why do I need this?
You’d tell me to stay dark. Not to leave a trail. You’re right. You’re always right. You’re so good at what you do. Strong. Perfection.
But I’m doing it anyway. I have to believe this chance is worth it. I believe it is because I believe what you said in the last moments we shared. Your religion is my pledge. Deep and true.
The key to survival drives me too. Just like I taught you. If I am going to be here, forced to be here, I need to be warm and useful.
Before I know this works, I shouldn’t say much. Just know there is a line. Somehow your walls aren’t secure, there’s an enemy in your midst.
Be wary.
Remember what I said to you on the patio? Sitting here surrounded by trees, thousands of miles away, I don’t feel the same. I’ll make a difference for you, somehow. That keeps me warm. You are my warm.
