Gideon Book 2

I have the bracelet in my pocket, weighing it down. I resist the urge to take it out and look at it on the bus.

It would get some looks, that’s for sure. People wouldn’t think it was real; it’s that bling. They’d just think I’d bought myself some show-off rhinestones.

No one would know anything about it, where it came from, or what I’m about to do with it.

Sarah deserves this money more than Helen ever deserved this gift. I’m glad she’s dead.

I probably should have put the thing in a box. No matter, though; nothing’s going to scratch its huge diamonds.

And I hope the shop I’m taking it to will see how valuable it is. I mean, Gideon said his PA spent a hundred and fifty grand on it; I should get a decent stack of cash.

Getting rid of it is like a ritual. He is mine; he never was hers.

The gang thought it was a little morbid of me to keep it until I told them why I wanted it.

I get off at my stop and walk a few blocks to the high-end jewelry reseller that seems like the right place to go.

I press the buzzer and an old man comes to the door. He’s wearing a suit, his thin hair combed back.

“Hi, I have something I’d like to sell?” I say, unsure of myself. I mean, that is why I’m there, but I wonder if I was supposed to say something different.

“Come in.”

He waves me into a quiet room with a plush beige carpet. I feel way too casual to be in this place, dressed in jeans and sneakers.

There are glass cases with huge, glittering pieces of jewelry in them. Diamonds and rubies and sapphires twinkle from behind the glass like they’re having a sparkle competition.

Another man in a suit is standing in front of a case, looking at a diamond necklace like he’s thinking very hard about it.

“Would you care to show me the piece in private?” says the shopkeeper.

“It’s okay,” I say, not really sure what the rules are for this kind of thing.

I take the bracelet out of my pocket and hold it out toward him.

The other man can’t help but look over at us as I show the shopkeeper. I can see he’s interested now—he moves closer.

He’s tall, for a human. Blond hair and blue eyes.

The shopkeeper holds the bracelet up to the light to look at it. Its massive oval stones catch the light and send rainbows onto the walls as it swings from his fingers.

“What a magnificent piece,” he says.

He looks at me suspiciously. For a second, I think he’s going to ask me where I got it; I can see him wondering how someone young has got a hold of something like this.

The man in the suit has come over to look.

“May I?” he asks the shopkeeper.

The man holds the bracelet in his hand lovingly, staring down at it like it was his first-born child.

He extends his hand to shake mine.

“Alistair. Nice to meet you,” he says.

“Layla.”

“Beautiful bracelet.”

“If you like that sort of thing.”

“You don’t then, I take it?” Alistair asked with a smile.

“It belonged to someone who really didn’t like me.”

“And yet now you have it.”

“Yes. But not for long.”

He laughs at this.

“Indeed.”

There’s an awkward silence. Alistair seems like he wants to know more.

I’m not sure where this conversation is going. I’m not just going to tell him my boyfriend bought this bracelet for his ex, but he had to kill her because she tried to kill me.

That really doesn’t make any sense in the human world. Humans don’t just go around killing people. Well, when they do, it’s not considered normal.

I’m sniffing, aware that Alistair might not be what he appears. As far as I can tell, he’s human.

Weird though, I can’t smell him as well as I should be able to.

The shopkeeper is about to say something when Alistair speaks.

“Would you consider taking an offer from me on the bracelet?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll give you fifty grand. I’ll also compensate you, sir, for facilitating the sale,” he said to the shopkeeper.

“Deal,” I say.

I’m happy with the money—enough to get Sarah through the end of her studies.

I wait in the shop while Alistair goes to get cash.

I feel like I’m in a music video or something. I’ve never seen so much money in my life.

The old shopkeeper has a money counter—a gray plastic thing that looks like computers from the ‘90s. He puts it down in front of me like he’s proud of it.

His eyes are twinkling, and I think he’s getting a kick out of the fact that I’ve obviously never seen a pile of bills like this.

The counter ticks away. We bundle the stacks of bills with elastic bands and put them in a big envelope.

The shopkeeper gives Alistair a black velvet box for the bracelet. Alistair puts it in the inside pocket of his navy blazer, then pulls out a business card.

“It was great to meet you, Layla. Here’s my card.”

I take it, not sure what I would use it for.

His name and contact details are on it in fine serif letters.

I didn’t bring a bag, so I’m really self-conscious leaving the shop. I don’t want to look like I’m holding fifty thousand dollars in an envelope.

I’m afraid people can see it, like they somehow know there are all these hundred-dollar bills right here in my hand.

I keep squeezing the envelope to make sure I haven’t lost it. I can hardly fumble for bus change; I’m so focused on my envelope.

I can smell the money.

I just hope no one else can.

Now that I’ve gotten rid of the damn bracelet, I feel lighter. Helen and the whole mess are just a little bit further away.

That bitch had a very fancy bracelet, and she was fucking proud of herself for getting it from Gideon.

But now she’s dead, and she couldn’t wear the damn thing if she wanted to.

It doesn’t change what happened. But it helps.

And now I get to do something really good for someone who has always been a good friend to me.

I feel bad I’ve neglected my friendship with Sarah since I met Gideon.

She doesn’t know about the whole werewolf and lycan thing. It feels super weird telling humans about that if they don’t already know.

I’ve never tried it, but if I hadn’t grown up in a werewolf pack and someone told me they were a werewolf, I’d think they’d lost their minds.

So I’m not going to tell her. I still haven’t decided how I’m going to explain the wad of cash I have for her.

I walk up to the front door of her small house, with her battered car sitting outside it. She says she’s had it since she was a teenager—and I can believe that.

I knock on the door.

Sarah comes to the door.

“Layla! I wasn’t expecting you!”

“Sorry, I should’ve called.”

“No, not at all, it’s great to see you!”

“You sure now’s a good time?” I say as I see Charlie and a friend of his playing in the front room.

“Of course. The boys don’t mind. Charlie, Jason, say hi to Layla.”

The kids say hi and turn back to their toys.

“You want a coffee?”

“Only if you’re making some.”

She puts the coffee on and comes to sit down.

“I haven’t seen you in the longest time—what have you been doing?”

“Well, I met a guy. We’re living together now.”

“Wow, so soon! Tell me all about him!”

~“Oh, er…he’s…really handsome. His name’s Gideon.”

“Cool name. Sounds like a lord from a history book. Show me a picture!”

I show her one of only a few pictures I have of Gideon. He’s not super into having his photo taken.

“Damn, those muscles! He must spend a lot of time at the gym. Is he like a model or something? Did you meet him taking photos? Please say you met him taking photos of him shirtless!”

“I wish! No, he was one of the cleaning customers. Real fancy apartment.”

“Get out of here! Cinderella, you have done well!”

I love that Sarah is so excited for me. Her face turns concerned.

“Wait, you’re still doing your photography courses, right? Never drop out of college for a man.”

“No, don’t worry, I’m still at school. I’m going to try and get some work experience soon, maybe at a newspaper or something.”

“That’s great—good for you.”

“How’s things with you? You’re still studying, right?”

“Another year to go. We’re doing okay. I’m working a lot, though. Luckily, Jason’s mom watches Charlie.”

I can see the tiredness in her face as she says it. How do you tell someone you have fifty grand for them in cash?

“So, about that… This is probably going to sound pretty weird…”

Her expression is confused.

“I have something for you.”

I put the envelope on the table in front of her.

“What’s this?”

She looks inside and gasps.

“Layla, where did you get this?”

She looks around and whispers, as if someone might see us.

“This new boyfriend of yours, is he a drug dealer or something?”

I laugh quietly.

“No, of course not. Look, how I got it is a long story. I had something…an heirloom, kind of. I didn’t want it because it reminded me of some stuff I don’t want to remember.

“So I sold it. And I have some of the money, and I want you to have some too.”

I told a tiny white lie about keeping some of the money, just to make her feel like I wasn’t giving it all to her.

“I can’t accept this. I mean, you need money too.”

“Don’t worry about me; I have enough.”

“How much is it?”

“Fifty.”

Her voice drops to a whisper again and her eyes are wide with shock.

I nod gently.

“Layla, I don’t know what to say. I can’t accept this.”

“Look, I’m not trying to make you feel like a charity case or anything. Give it to your mom if you prefer, or spend it all on Charlie’s education. But I’m not taking it with me. The envelope stays here.”

I gently push the envelope toward her, then offer a hopeful smile.

She looks at the envelope sitting on the table. She picks it up and holds it to her chest, on the brink of tears.