Page 55 of Tangwystle
“Fairy?” Baz asked.
I threw a towel onto the counter. “Only because she begged. I personally think too much sugar isn’t good for you.”
Like always, my dour response only made the pair laugh. “It’s sticky buns,” Gretel said. “It’s hardly the worst thing.”
Gretel held one up, tempting him. Not that he needed much persuasion.
“You’re a grown man,” I reminded Baz, who licked his lips.
He straightened his spine. “Are you telling me I wouldn’t be dignified if I ate a sticky bun?”
As if I’d challenged him, he swiped the treat from Gretel and tore into the bun. He made a mess of it, icing sticking to his lips. He kissed Gretel’s cheek, her shoulders jumping as she giggled.
He stepped toward me and I dodged, but he caught my arm. Pulling me to him, he kissed my cheek over and over again, tickling my skin.
“Is this not dignified enough?” he asked, and for a second, I just stood in his arms, holding onto him. He swayed slightly, but I looked up, realizing it wasn’t his usual dancing.
He stumbled back, shooting a look at Gretel, who yet again giggled. “F-fairy?” he asked, dropping to a knee.
I tried to grab him before his head crashed to the ground. He slumped to the floor, out cold.
“Gretel!” I whispered furiously. “What did you do?”
She shrugged, an impish grin on her lips. “I told you I had a plan.”
“You drugged him!”
She bent down, lovingly smoothing a hand over his brow. “It’s okay.”
“It’s really not!” And this would also be the last time she’d ever be allowed to touch our food.
“I told you I had a plan.” Gretel pressed a kiss to Baz’s forehead, fawning over the unconscious man. “And he told me he likes games and drugging isn’t off limits.”
“Y-you talked about this?” Nerves skittered across my skin like they always did when the world tilted funny. Gretel and Baz knew what they were doing, and this felt like another reminder of how new I was to all of this.
But Gretel didn’t have that awful, silly smile on her face like she normally did. Something softer appeared, and she leaned forward, kissing me. Slow and sensual, and while we couldn’t forget Baz right there on the ground next to us, this moment was for us.
“You trust me?” Gretel whispered against my lips. I nodded. An excited grin took over her face, and she nearly vibrated. “Good, then it’s onto the next step of the plan.”
The next stepof the plan involved dragging Baz into the pantry. I thought Gretel was absurd for multiple reasons, but once we started pulling Baz, I understood. There was no way the two of us were carrying the dead weight of a six-foot-tall man, made completely of muscle, up the stairs.
And it turned out Gretel had put some care into the plan. The pantry was closest to the scene of the crime, and she had rearranged the room. Our stockpile of food almost disappeared out of sight, and she’d laid out a spread of blankets and pillows. I didn’t even know where she’d found the stuff. They were all made of orange and red material, brightening what should’ve been a drab and dark pantry.
She tried to hand me a knife.
I couldn’t even hide the alarm from my voice. “What’s this for?”
“We have to cut his clothes off.”
Baz, propped up on pillows, slumbered. Even asleep, his body cut the figure of a god. His chiseled jawline and dark hair. He appeared relaxed, though, I hated the idea that we’d just done him harm.
“We are not cutting his clothes!” I hissed.
Gretel frowned and pulled out some rope from one of the shelves. I started to wonder just how long she’d sat on this plan.
“The whole point is for him to not be in clothes!” she reasoned, picking up his arm and pulling it back. I looked on in horror as it slowly dawned on me that she meant to tie him up.
“We are not cutting his clothes,” I said again. I might be attached to this harebrained scheme, but had this girl not learned a thing or two in her lifetime. “Do you know the cost of fabric these days?”
