Once Upon A [Hidden] Time - [Stolen] Series IV

CHAPTER 27

STEVE
21 JUNE 2015

"You know, I still think we should go back to the city and search for Jasmine's identity," complained DC Khan as we entered Edward's chamber.

"I am sure Edward must have left a clue for me about her," I argued. "Can't you access the system from my laptop?"

She thought for a second, taking a seat on the bed. "I can," she said, "but our IT department can easily track your IP address and see that it's not an authorised machine, even if I use a secure token. It's against protocol."

"True," I agreed. "I don't want you to raise any suspicion."

I opened the sideboard drawer to take out Edward's drawing journal and sat next to DC Khan. Yesterday, after having breakfast in the nearby town, we spent the entire day exploring the castle, looking for any clues about the hidden library, but it was a useless effort. Tired, we went out again, had an early dinner, and slept through the night.

Today, we began our hunt again.

Sifting through the sketches, I started looking for his new message. DC Khan began to help me, as well. I picked up the sketch in which Jasmine was reading the oncology book. I flipped the page over and heard DC Khan whistle.

"Blimey O'Reilly!" she shrieked. "How the hell is that possible?"

I read the message under my message—the one where I told him the oncology book was last published in 2011.

THE BOOK OF JASMINE SAYS SHE IS A NEONATAL SURGEON.

I scratched my scalp, not sure what to say.

"Not just a regular doctor, but an effing neonatal surgeon!" DC Khan exclaimed. I was still speechless. "Now, now..." She took the paper from me. "He has made our lives easier." She pressed the paper against her heart. "Thank you, Edward." I looked at her in confusion. "He has narrowed down the search for us, you dolt!"

I was still clueless.

"How many neonatal surgeons do we have in the UK?" she asked. "We can start our search with her profession."

I inhaled sharply to absorb her words.

"Let's go back and access my system in the office," she suggested. "I mean, you go to your place, and I will go to the office to dig out some information." It wasn't a bad idea, but I also came here for another reason.

After breakfast today, we had visited a shop for a portable photocopier. I wanted to make copies of all the sketches for evidence, for my keepsake, and also for Myra's parents. I wanted to tell them how their daughter was. It might give them some comfort.

"Let me photocopy all these sketches," I said as I stood to open the box.

I took my time making copies of all the sketches when one sketch held my attention. I completely forgot what I had asked him in the sketch in which she was sleeping, covered only in sheets. I wanted to know if they had slept together already.

SHE IS AS PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW

DC Khan read the message loudly and teased, "Ah! So virtuous and chaste of her!"

I glared at her.

"What have they been doing the past week if they haven't slept together yet?" she asked.

"I don't want to know," I mumbled, jealously seeping through me. "But all I know is that once he sleeps with her, it is the end of them."

DC Khan's face blanched at my words.

"He is bridling his desires to keep her safe," I added. "They are cursed to show love. The moment they make love, there is a chance that she could die like all previous queens."

"What if she doesn't?" My heart started running a marathon upon her question. "In the same way she ended his other curses, what if their lovemaking is the end of all the curses?" I still stared at her, transfixed. "Why don't you encourage him to—"

"To fuck her?" Irritation was evident in my voice. "You want me to suggest to him to sleep with her?"

She pursed her lips and cast her gaze down at the message.

"You want Steve Bernard to encourage a ghost to shag his future wife?"

"I don't mean to—"

"Then what exactly is your point, DC Khan?" I yelled as I stood, the parchments falling on the floor.

"Open your eyes, Steve!" She matched my raised voice. "She is not your fiancée anymore. She is not coming back—"

I interrupted her by grabbing her forearm and pushing her down on her back on the bed. "I will do everything in my power to bring her back," I vowed.

"She is not your wife, you arsehole." Bending her knee, she punched me in my stomach. For a moment, I had forgotten that she was no ordinary girl. She was a fuckin' cop. As the pain shot across my belly, she grabbed my neck, flipped me over, and pushed me onto the bed. "Next time you lay a hand on me, I will put you behind bars and will not care that you are my friend. Just be grateful that I didn't kick you in the balls." She mounted me over my torso, grabbed both my hands, and held them over my head. "I am not a damsel in distress who would comply with your male ego, you bastard!"

I took my time to catch my breath and let loose on her act. She was looking incredibly sexy on top of me. What the hell was I thinking? I was challenging a cop in a hand-to-hand fight.

She bent down, her hair covering my face. God! She smelled divine! Which perfume was it?

"Now, man up and accept that she doesn't love you," she grumbled. "It's not going to break your dick to accept that she was never meant to be yours."

I stared into her jade green eyes, falling into a blissful garden of desire. What was she doing to me? I promised myself to refrain from any carnal desires for any other woman after Myra, but DC Khan was a delicious temptation. I promised myself to be true to Myra, but...

As if she could read my mind, she closed the gap between our faces. I couldn't control the desire anymore and reached out to seek her lips with mine. We crashed into each other like two depraved, lust-ridden adolescents, our bodies craving each other as if we were some star-crossed lovers from the past century. It had been months since I had slept with anyone, and her body, melting into me, was making it easier for me to break my vow of chastity until I wed.

Damn you, Myra!

I pulled her t-shirt up and tossed it aside. This reminded me of our first kiss together in school—how her father gave her a hard time when he found out about me, and took her away to Edinburgh.

Damn Steve and Myra and their engagement!

I kissed her in mad desperation, as if venting over my anger at my fiancée, who had left me for another man—who didn't even exist at all.

Damn you, Myra, and your fuckin' prince!

She pulled off the shirt from my chest and hastily unzipped my jeans.

We both dove into a rhythmic bliss—not caring about the consequences.

Was it the beginning of a new relationship or the end of our friendship? Would she remain the same after all this?