Heart Thief - The Sinister Fairy Tales

“Come,” I interrupt, the tension thickening the air between us all. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“Ride?”

“Ah, you would have never ridden in a car before.”

“No…” she breathes in wonder.

“Well, plenty of firsts will be happening for you this trip.” Colt winks, and I frown over at him. He’s not usually this playful.

“What?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. Nothing at all. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen life in his eyes. I like it.

“Put these on.” Colt drops a pair of sneakers at Mona’s feet.

“Whose are those?” I quirk a brow.

“Annemarie filled a closet when she spent time here,” he grunts.

Annemarie was the closest a woman ever got to being Colt’s girlfriend. He was a moody motherfucker who only cared about building his empire where he could sit on his throne and play God.

“Wow, this is so pretty,” Mona says in awe, circling Colt’s Mercedes—one of many cars he owns.

“Pretty?” Colt snorts, opening the door for her before getting behind the wheel as I slide in on the passenger side. When he kicks over the engine, she lets out a little startled noise. I lean into the back to pull her seatbelt over her, my arm brushing her breasts. She gasps, and our eyes clash. She feels the tension, the attraction. Fuck, I can’t see her that way. It’s morbid—wrong.

“Thank you,” she tells me, her tongue dampening her lip.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Twelve

Mona

Noise and people—hundreds of them—concrete buildings and roads…everything is so in your face. The streets are bustling, everyone seeming to be in such a hurry. Where are they all going? It’s overwhelming.

“Come,” Colt tells me, his hand on my back, the gesture protective, sheltering me from the chaos around us. I welcome it. I scoot closer between the two of them, using them as a shield. Cash opens a glass door and ushers me inside the place with their name emblazoned above the building: Shiny Jewels by Ward Brothers.

“Wow,” I breathe, taking in the sight before me—glistening sparkles, jewelry as far as the eye can see in an array of colors.

“Let’s go through to my office,” Cash instructs, pulling me away from all the beautiful objects.

“Cash is a collector of shiny things,” Colt whispers against my ear once we’re in Cash’s office. The contact sends a zap of energy through my nervous system. He seems to recognize he evokes a reaction inside me. The look and hook of his lip tell me so, only inflaming the already burning need inside me.

It’s new—something I can’t control. I think I like it.

“What do you think?” Cash asks, turning around with his arms out in front of him.

He’s proud of his possessions—and he should be. Huge colored rocks sit behind a lit glass window, making the rocks sparkle. “I collect rare jewels. I guess that’s what drew me to your sister.” He smiles, and it’s different from Colt’s. It’s gentle and friendly. He has a warmth to him Colt lacks.

My heart skips at the mention of Clara. “You said you didn’t meet her here. What did you mean by that?” I brush my fingers across the glass, desperate to pick up the rocks and look at them more closely.

“Let me start from the beginning,” he tells me, sitting at a huge desk dominating the room. Colt sits on a leather couch along the back wall and taps the space next to him. “I’ll stand.” I narrow my eyes on him. He’s full of himself, but something deep inside me likes it. I feel a gravitational pull toward him I’m fighting out of principle.

“The beginning then,” I say, looking over at Cash.

“When Colt and I were four years old, our mother met someone from your island. A missionary, he called himself.”

Like Mother talked about. I find myself moving closer to the desk as Colt shifts forward. “He spat shit about sinners and those who can be reborn in God’s name, forgiven—cult bullshit your people convince themselves of,” Colt sneers. There’s hate in his tone. A chill chases up my spine, settling in my heart.

“We’re not all of the same thinking,” I defend, and his gaze burns into me.

“Our mother was unhappy with our father. He was a notorious cheater and worked all hours under the sun,” Cash interjects, pulling my attention from Colt.

“What do you mean by a cheater?”

“He fucked women who weren’t our mother,” Colt grunts, focusing on brushing his pant leg.

“Fucked?” I taste the word on my tongue.

Both Cash and Colt shift in their seats, eyes alight, focused on me.

“Sexual intercourse,” Cash clarifies.

“Oh.” I feel the blush creep up my face.

“Could he not just take other wives?” I ask, even though I’d hate it if my husband had more than one wife.

“We don’t do that shit here,” Colt snaps at me.

“I’m sorry,” I frown. “Just because it’s what I grew up conscious of doesn’t mean I agree with the customs my father implements.”