I don’t know what came over me, thinking you were different somehow. Get out of here, Princess. I don’t want you, and I certainly don’t need you.
He hated her, and she’d let it happen. Instead of swallowing her pride and anger, she’d thrown cowardice in his face and let him walk away.
She reached out and kicked a pebble on the pathway into a nearby red ant bed.
Hell, I doubt he has a phone anyhow.Come to think of it, she didn’t remember seeing anything even remotely suggesting he had electricity.
A low chuckle burst from her mouth, and a nearby bird shot to the sky with a noisy squawk. Somehow, Fin’s need to shun technology endeared him to her. She wished she could learn to live without the comforts of the twenty-first century.
The vigorous walk and bright sun put her in a better mood.
Reaching the front door, she stopped at the dented metal mailbox hanging off the exterior of the rental and retrieved a small stack of bills.
A thick, crème-colored envelope poked from the stack. Her name and address were penned in a large, flowing script. It reminded her of old books written in medieval times.
Though the writing was beautiful, the name made her heart do a somersault and her lower belly clench.
Finley Marin scrolled across the top, left-hand corner along with a return address.
She tripped on one of the splintered front steps and caught herself, then dashed inside and slammed the front door. Pulling out a chair, she threw herself down and sat at the kitchen table. With a tremble, she ripped open the envelope and poured over the words.
My Dearest Little Scabbers,
I hope my letter finds you well.
I might’ve been hasty with my words the day you left. Sometimes, I’m selfish and irrational, or so Margret reminds me daily. Mydumpytower seems emptier, now. You’ll be happy to know I re-sanded the table and put a new coat of lacquer on the wood. You were right—it was splintery and in need of some love and care. Perhaps, I’ve let things run amuck for too long, and it’s time to reassess my current situation. Maybe, I don’t know how to admit when I’m wrong; maybe, the thought of letting someone see me, all of me, is terrifying.
Anyhow, I’m sure you’re busy with whatever it is your heart desires, so I’ll not take up any more of your time. Enjoy your freedom—you earned it.
Yours truly,
Fin
P.S. I am but one pea in a pod that should hold two.
Sacha held the paper to her nose. His faint masculine scent slid into her nostrils and lodged into her heart.
He didn’t leave.
This thought kept circling in her mind. He’d been so intent on escaping this world, though.
Why didn’t he go?There was nothing here to hold him back. He was at the peak of his power, he had his coveted ring, and he didn’t need her. So, why dawdle?
She propped her chin on a palm and stared at the cracked, peeling linoleum. Her fingers caressed the creamy, rich paper and her eyes drifted closed. The texture was thick and a little rough. For some reason, it screamed his personality—tough and coarse, but elegant and passionate beyond the surface. Pressing her lips to the signature, her nose breathed in the male aroma.
Chapter 32
Fin
“Eighteen.Nineteen.Twenty.”Toeto heel, he pivoted, doing an about face.
It was twenty steps from the window of his room to the door, and this was the thirtieth time Fin had paced the route in less than thirty minutes. A week, it had been a bloody week since he sent Sacha the letter, and he wanted to pull his hair out at her silence.
How hard can it be to write back? It only takes minutes.Surely, she had a few moments to spare.Or maybe she’s finished with my games.He’d used her, he knew, and the guilt and shame ate at his soul.
Cyan flapped his wings, reminding Fin to open the cage.
He walked to the large enclosure and flipped the latch.
