Page 33 of Cruelly Fated
ALLIE
“Thanks for coming,” I said, letting Officer Marley into the house.
“I’m off duty today. It’s no trouble.” He stopped in the living room, hands on his hips. “I didn’t believe the foreclosure was real. Not until I saw the notice on the door. So…it’s true…”
“Yeah,” I muttered, briskly moving into the hallway where I’d stacked more laundry baskets filled with Grandpa’s clothes, favorite books, knickknacks, and whatever else I couldn’t leave behind. I hefted one and carried it closer to the front door, then turned to grab the next.
“Allie?” he called out gently.
“Hmm,” I murmured, already pushing past him again.
“Wait.” He caught my arm, searching my face. I couldn’t hold his gaze and pretend I was fine—because I wasn’t. My lip trembled. Staying busy was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
“Let me help,” he whispered, withdrawing his hand.
I gave a curt nod.
Together we carried the rest of the totes out of Grandpa’s bedroom and loaded them into Marley’s car.
I’d called him yesterday afternoon on my drive to the club and asked if he could store Grandpa’s things until I found a new place. He’d immediately offered his apartment to me, but I couldn’t accept. Grandpa’s belongings alone would fill his only free bedroom. I’d find a place—at least that’s what I kept telling myself. And if no miracle came by Monday, I’d sleep in my Honda until I found something I could afford.
It had been easier with Mom’s things. She kept her most prized possessions in a single box under her bed—the bed I slept in now. When Mom was alive, I used the sunroom at the back of the house as my bedroom. But a few months before her death, the roof started sinking, and rot had chewed through parts of the wall. We sealed the room off not long after.
The box was all I’d take. I’d already asked Ms. Robinson from across the street to come by tomorrow and sort throughMom’s clothes. They were roughly the same size. She could take whatever she wanted and the rest would have to stay behind.
The same went for the furniture. I had no space for it, no real use either, and it wasn’t worth much. My own belongings would fit in my car.
Marley jostled the last laundry basket into the back of his truck.
“You have my number. Promise you’ll call if you don’t find a place next week,” he said, hitting me with a stare I couldn’t dodge.
I hugged myself. “You’re first on my speed dial,” I said quietly. And the only one.
He pulled me into a quick hug, something he rarely did, even when he and Mom were dating. He always kept to himself, private in a way that felt intentional. But Mom had liked him, and she was a good judge of character, except, maybe, when it came to my father. Marley had his demons. Wounds he never talked about. They’d been good for each other when it lasted.
I waved as he pulled away from the curb, then toed the edge, lips pressed tight. Marching back inside, I kicked the bank sign on the front lawn. It didn’t budge.
I shut the door and leaned my head back against it, exhaling. I had to get it together for this after-party tonight.
The doorbell rang and I jumped.Fudge…
Rubbing my chest, I peeked through the peephole. A sharply dressed young man stood on my porch, a long wardrobe bag slung over one arm. Faint disapproval pinched his expression ashe glanced around the area. I guessed he didn’t come to this part of Avari often. Valor’s dates probably lived in penthouses, not sagging houses on forgotten streets.
I cracked the door open, and just like that, his face shifted, flattening into practiced politeness.
“Miss Marsh?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Valor sent me to deliver this outfit to you for tonight.” He extended the garment bag, and I accepted it, cool fabric brushing my arms. His smile didn’t falter, as if it came preinstalled with the uniform. “My master asked me to inform you he will be picking you up at seven p.m. sharp.”
Master? My brows lifted, but before I could reply, the man bowed and pivoted with crisp precision, disappearing down the front steps. I closed the door with a frown, then laid the bag across the couch. Stepping back, I eyed it like it might spring open and devour me. I tilted my head and took a hesitant step toward it, then stopped. Why did this feel like so much more than just a dress?
Because it was.
A designer dress, gifted by a wealthy fae. For a party I had no business attending.
It wasn’t just out of my world; it felt completely out of my league.
