Heaven's Crime (gxg) ✓

nineteen. somebody wants me enough to kidnap me, i feel loved

                  Exchange. An exchange. 

                  "It's not happening," Veah growls.

                  "Of course not," Tommy says hurriedly. "But they . . . they have―it's Emilie."

                  Dazed, I say, "But she was just at our table."

                  The blonde bitch with the corkscrew curls and the piercing blue eyes. The dark, smudged eyeliner and the sneer. Emilie―they have Emilie as a hostage, and they want me. 

                  "You're not going," Veah says, utter fury lacing her words. Her jaw tenses, forming a sharp line, and she glares at me with those piercing, smoke-grey eyes.

                  Fire. Fire and smoke and bright, devouring resolution.

                  Tommy glances between us, almost nervously―as though he is dreading something. As though there is still more he has to say.

                 Without tearing my eyes away from Veah, I tell Tommy, "Spit it out."

                 "They . . . they have Kiara and Lacy."

                 "Hunter and Jude's daughters?" Veah says, and now there is something like . . . fear in her voice. 

                 I think of Hunter's mismatched blue eyes. The casual, powerful way she commands herself. 

                 And Jude―that wild, ferocious glint. 

                 I might be in shock. "We have to do something."

                "We have to get you away from here," Veah says darkly, rising to her feet and holding out her hand.

                I don't take it. I say, "Cassie, what about my―"

                "They have her too," Tommy says, like this is the thing he has been dreading saying all along. 

                I think I faint.

                "Once upon a time, there was a girl in a castle."

                Cassie giggles. "It was a tower." 

                She is six. I am eleven.

                I frown. "Right. A tower. So, anyways, this girl was in the tower and she was, like, pretty upset. 'Cause, you know, how would you feel if you had to be locked up in a rusty old tower your whole life because of some evil witch woman?"

                "I'd be pretty upset," Cassie says wisely.

                We are sitting opposite each other, cross-legged on the floor of our closet. Clothes and dresses and too-small skirts are hanging from the rack above us, swishing over our heads. The thin walls rattle, ever so slightly, and I hear their shouting from downstairs.

               "Why have you been coming home so late this week?"

                "It's none of your fucking business, lady!"

                "That's right."  My mother is in tears. She's always crying, and I don't know why. "I'm only your wife. Why tell me anything?"

                My stepdad sneers. "It's always the fucking guilt trip with you, Crystal." 

                I try not to let the pause linger too long. I know Cassie is listening too, because her pale eyes widen, and her lower lip trembles.