Pretending To Belong To THE BEAST

Chapter 2: Pain on December 24

Mira's POV

The freezing wind of New York hit my face as I ran down the dark street. My first stop had to be a place that asked no questions.

So I found myself in a pawn shop that had that smell. You know stale smoke, old stuff and people who had run out of options. I rubbed my thumb hard against my palm like it was going to wipe the smell off my skin. While above the door, the little bell jingled as if it was announcing my worst day ever. And trust me, I felt embarrassed because it made me feel as though everyone could tell why I was here.

I dumped my jewelry onto the cut counter. The fancy gold bracelet. It was the same diamond earrings I bought myself after landing a huge work win. My fingers shook as I lined them up side by side in a way that was too neat, too perfect.

Now, the man behind the metal bars didn't even look up from his paperback romance novel he was reading. All he did was poke the bracelet with one gross and dirty finger. TAP TAP. He had no gloves. No manners. Nothing.

"Look, hundred for the bracelet," he said. "Fifty for the earrings."

That amount hurt to hear. Not just my wallet but my whole chest. "Are you… are you kidding me? Are you actually kidding me right now? I mean, that's Cartier. That's, like, five thousand dollars, right? And those diamonds are a carat each."

He then raised his head up as he looked at my nice dress, my shaky hands and my messy makeup. He looked at me the way people look at roadkill as though he was curious but yet not sorry. I felt judged in one second, like he'd already decided my whole story. "Another guy? Another ring? Honey, I could write a book about it. Don't tell me…the other woman works for him. It's always like that. And see lady, it's all junk to me. Two fifty for everything. Take it or leave, sweetheart."

Two hundred and fifty dollars. Yikes. Two. Three. Five. Seven. That number just sat there in my brain without moving.

Before I could fight back, my phone buzzed. UNKNOWN NUMBER. Seriously, today of all days?

"Um…hello?" I said because what else do you even say? My voice came out smaller than I wanted. I pressed the phone tight to my ear and leaned closer to the bars hoping that would help. But it didn't.

"Am I talking to Mira Solace? Ma'am, this is Mr. Henderson, Potedel Bank Fraud Team. Mr. Julian Moreau reported someone used your account card fraudulently under your name. We have frozen all your accounts till…"

"It's a…it's a joint savings account," I said. "Okay, can you check the cash balance? Please…like, right now?" I said it fast the way I say things when I already know the answer is bad.

"So, they…actually shut down your wedding savings account, like fifty-seven minutes ago. The whole…the whole balance was moved into a new account for Mr. Moreau."

The phone slipped out of my sweaty hands, I grabbed it but it slipped again before I finally got a grip. Julian had been keeping tabs on me. Ugh. Of course he had. That was so Julian. He was cutting off every way out just like I expected.

My head was spinning but one thought cut right through all the noise. I could still picture my mom pressing a little savings book into my hands the day I turned eighteen. She had told me, "Keep this hidden, baby girl. Not for bills. Not for some guy. Only use it when you need to disappear."

This was money I had kept hidden and promised myself I would never go near. It was lying in my secret account I’d never withdrawn from.

Something clicked inside me. Right! It was time to stop crying and start moving. You fix things, Mira. That is literally your whole thing. So I straightened my shoulders even though they trembled. I pushed everything toward the man across the counter. "Fine. I…fine. Two fifty. Whatever. Just…cash. Now."

He slapped down the bills. SLAP.SLAP.SLAP. Each dropped one by one onto the counter as if he was doing me a favour. "Maybe…just maybe spend some of that on finding a man who isn't trash, honey. Just a thought. It's free of charge."

I snatched the money off the counter while acted as if I was deaf to what he'd said and then pushed through the door into the freezing dark. I flagged down a cab and dropped into the cracked and cold back seat.

“Okay, JFK," I told the driver. "You know it, right? International flights. And please, don't drive like it's Sunday." He looked at me in the mirror. I looked right back. He drove fast.

***

At the airport everything was loud and overwhelming; the screens flashing, flights running late and everyone looking like they wanted to scream. I found a quiet corner and then pulled out my phone, and logged into the bank app I’d never used. I used the day my dad died as the password. The money hadn’t been touched before. Two thousand dollars.

Then I searched for flights. Montreal? It was sold out, obviously. Quebec City? One seat left but it was wildly expensive. Okay…wow.

I didn't even think twice because thinking twice was what got me into this mess. I hit buy and held my breath. Ding! The email came through right away. One ticket. One way out of everything Julian had built around me. For the first time all night, I felt a tiny spark of hope.

Hours later I was buckled into a hard and uncomfortable airplane seat as I looked at nothing.

"Folks, so, hey everyone, your captain here. We're heading into a pretty bad snowstorm, yeah, over Quebec City. Visibility is almost zero out there."

"Would you like…um…some champagne?" a flight attendant asked cutting the captain’s voice. When I looked at it, it was the same champagne Julian and I had chosen together for our wedding day. That little detail hit harder than it should have. so I turned it down. But the truth was that I don't even like champagne. I just liked the version of me who thought she'd be toasted for the right reasons. My stomach felt… I don't know…it felt sick and wrong as though something was curdling.

The plane dropped hard and fast. My stomach lurched and my hand flew straight to my mom's locket around my neck. Part of the words on the locket was Je me souviens; I remember. And right then, I did. My mom had warned me about men like Julian who were polished, charming and perfectly comfortable taking everything from you and calling it business. I had handed Julian the wheel this time and somehow smiled and let him drive my whole life off a cliff. That was the part that made me feel sick, not just what he did but how willingly I let him. Never again. I meant that this time. For real this time. Because I would no longer hand anyone that wheel.

The wheels of the plane suddenly made a loud screeching sound when they touched the slippery runway. We had landed safely but the problem was when I looked out at all that white snow, the truth hit me. I had, well, I had run away from one bad situation in New York and walked straight into another one in Quebec.

Two hundred and fifty dollars. A phone that was about to die. And absolutely no plan. That was… yeah. That was everything I had left. And somehow, standing there in the cold Quebec dark that felt like both the worst and the most honest moment of my entire life.