Page 60 of Expensive

Other voices echo around us. Howard says, “I’ll take Timber if you take Andrew. The tourniquet should stop most of the bleeding until we get to the hospital.”

That’s when I finally notice the smell. Bacon. And something else. Burnt plastic. What happened? I still can’t see. The darkness is too complete to be natural. I reach for my face, but my arms are still so weak I barely have the strength to touch my eyes. There’s a cloth covering them.

“Don’t let him take off the blindfold. Timber was adamant that Andrew shouldn’t see anything until the doctors have had a chance to wrap it up.”

Wrap what up? Did something happen to me? Did the spell mess up some part of my body? I wiggle my fingers and toes. I move both legs ever so slightly. Everything is weak but appears to be fine.

Then I remember the way Timber was breathing. They didn’t hurt him, did they?

“Please tell me what is happening,” I beg.

A kind female voice says, “I’m going to take my dragon form, and I’m going to fly you to the hospital. We’ll tell you more then, okay? For now, you need to get some sleep. From what I saw tonight, you are very loved. Very, very loved.”

What did she see?

“Is Timber okay? What am I not supposed to see?” I ask.

“Don’t worry, Andrew. Timber will be fine. I’m shifting now, alright?”

My eyelids feel heavy. I’m too worried to sleep, but I don’t know if I can stay awake. I’m too weak. Arms slide underneath my neck and knees. Or maybe they’re paws. They lift me up and keep lifting. Like we’re airborne.

I never thought I’d fly again. My dragon is gone.

I should feel sad about that, but I’m not sad at all. It’s like my chest was weighed down the same way Howard’s spell weighed down my feet, but now my chest is free. It’s light.

My dragon may be gone, but my bond ache is gone too. When I was watching my library burn, I was too overwhelmed to see the truth of what that choice truly was. I wasn’t sacrificing the core of myself for Timber. I was paying the price for my freedom. And yes, it was expensive, but it was worth it.

It’s like Kim said. It’s about power. And I just got mine back. I don’t have to answer to my father or the Monroes ever again. I can live however I want. Sure, part of that is loving who I want, but that’s not the only freedom I gained today.

As we fly away, I realize that I don’t owe Kim a cent. I only had to pay for her spell if I could walk away. And I didn’t walk away. I had to be carried.

My father, the Monroes, and even a warlock tried to manipulate me to get the Monroe fortune. But Timber and I didn’t let them. We won.

If only I knew that Timber was okay. Something happened back at The Flickering Candle. I don’t know what it was, but I don’t think we got away completely unscathed.

I hope Timber didn’t have to pay for my freedom too.

29

Andrew

Three months later…

The house Timber and I bought along the Rixton coast is small and full of light. In every bright corner there are stacks of new books that still smell of crisp paper and binding glue. That smell is so different than the deep, musty scent of the old books I used to love.

These days I read contemporary books. I live for the thrill of a gritty mystery and the warmth of a good romance. I also can’t get enough of the new poetry books I find at the local bookshop. The words scream from the page in a way that classical poetry never did for me.

Timber and I rise with the sun every morning. Our bed is littered with stuffies from playtime last night. I have dozens of them now. All different colors and textures. I like to run my fingers through their soft fur when I read. They aren’t the same as Frankie, but in some ways, that’s better.

Frankie was always about comfort—about surviving. These stuffies have only existed in this new happy world where I am loved and free.

As Timber twists in bed, he knocks down Julius, a stuffie giraffe with an adorably squat neck and dangly legs. “Damn it. Sorry, Julius,” Timber mumbles.

I grasp his right forearm and bring his wrist to my lips, pressing a kiss just underneath the stump where his hand used to be. The first time I saw the price he had to pay for our bond, I cried for hours. He cried over my lost library too.

But it was hard to stay sad for long. Not after the courts deemed me able to take control over my own affairs, and no one could stop us from being together. We left behind the smoking ruin of the Monroe mansion and moved across the country to build our new life together. We even brought Marjorie with us. She’s handling the business end of the porn studio Timber started here in Rixton. He’s directing this time around.

Timber runs his left hand along my swelling belly. “How are you feeling?”

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