Page 105 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“But what about the guy who was flirting with you?”

“He was the ringleader. Apparently, they did this a lot. He’d go in and draw out gay men until they were alone and vulnerable, then…”

“Sam,” I breathe heavily.

“I was lucky. Some random guys coming from the pub heard the noise and stopped. Otherwise, I actually do think they would’ve killed me. I ended up with a punctured lung, damaged spleen, bruised kidneys, four broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a dislocated knee, a broken arm, and quite a serious head wound.”

“Were they charged?” I ask furiously. He shakes his head. “Why not?”

“Because their ringleader, the one who came on to me, was the chief inspector’s son.”

My mouth falls open.

“I tried. I reported them, told the truth, but it was all hushed up and my reputation trashed. They painted me as some kind of sexual predator. The only one who stuck by me, stuck up for me, was Danny, and even he doesn’t know the whole truth.”

“Why?”

“Because it was the only way I could protect him. If he’d stepped in, he’d have been blacklisted just like I was. I didn’t want him to lose the career he loved.”

“You should have told him the truth, Sam,” I say softly. “You know he would have wanted that.”

“I know.” He releases a breath. “But it’s over and done with now. There’s nothing that can be done except move on. I did make sure the guy’s name and photo was circulated amongst the bars, clubs, and safe queer spaces so that men knew to avoid him. Now I just want to get on with my life.”

I lean into his body and wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thank you.” He leans in and kisses me.

It’s a slow slide of tongues, nothing like the intense heat of before. This is all about comfort. I hear the doorbell ring and pull back to catch my breath.

“You expecting anyone?” Sam asks, and I shake my head.

Heading downstairs to the door, I’m aware Sam has followed me. I glance at him, raising a brow.

“Incurably nosy, remember?” He grins, and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

I open the door, but find no one there. My gaze drops to the ground where I see a small rectangular box without a shipping label. Not even so much as a name or postage stamp on it.

“What’s that?” Sam reaches down, but before he can touch the box, I grab his arm and yank him back.

“Don’t!” I snap. “Don’t touch it.”

“Why?”

“Because whatever is in that box is cursed,” I say quietly as I eye it.

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “I can feel it…it’s strong, very strong.”

“What do we do?”

“Can you go into the back room of the shop? On the workbench, you’ll find a pair of black workman’s gloves. Can you bring them to me?”

He ducks inside and, a few seconds later, returns, handing the gloves to me and watching as I pull them on.

“What are those?” He eyes the white symbols painted all over the gloves.

“Sigils.” I reach for the box. “Curses don’t affect me the same way as most people, probably because of my magic, but I’m not completely impervious. These gloves protect me.”