The Time Pawnshop at the End of the Alley

The crushing pain in my broken fingers made my vision go black.

My cheek was pressed against the cold counter, and Shane Watson still had one hand clamped around the back of my neck.

I'd heard a sharp crack just moments ago, like a dry branch snapping in half.

Except that sound had come from my own fingers.

“Be a good girl. It'll only hurt for a second.”

His voice was as gentle as ever, the same voice he'd used to comfort me countless times over the past ten years.

“Aria can't wait much longer. The pain in her chest is unbearable.”

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the cold sweat on my skin.

I couldn't understand how the man who'd made me soup just yesterday, who'd called me his sweet Wendy, could now crush my fingers without batting an eye.

All for another woman.

Aria Lane.

A flash of bloodred light swept across the bronze scale. The pain in my broken fingers seemed to be pulled from my body, turned into something that could be bought and sold.

Behind the counter, the shopkeeper, a man who called himself Mr. Black, curled his lips into an unsettling smile.

Shane finally let go of me.

He even helped me to my feet, carefully taking my trembling, mangled hand in his.

Lowering his head, he blew gently on my fingers, as if that could somehow make everything better.

“See? The pain's already fading.”

The tenderness in his voice sent chills down my spine.

“That's my brave girl, Wendy. A little sacrifice from you means Aria gets a whole day without coughing up blood. That's worth it, isn't it?”

Three of my fingers, crushed so another woman could have one day of relief.

And he thought it was worth it.

I stared at his handsome face, so close to mine, and felt sick to my stomach.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw that fake, loving expression right off his face.

But my throat had closed up. All I could manage were broken sobs.

He took off his jacket and wrapped it around me, handling me as gently as if I were made of glass.

Then he scooped me into his arms and carried me out of that horrible pawnshop.

“Let's go home.”

Home.

Once, that word had meant warmth and safety.

Now, all I could think of was a beautiful cage.

I curled up in the passenger seat, trembling uncontrollably. My right hand was horribly swollen, and waves of stabbing pain kept shooting through it.

Shane drove with his eyes on the road, his sharply defined profile as handsome as ever.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

“Don't hate me, Wendy.”

His voice was perfectly calm.

“Aria can't die. She ended up like this because she saved my life.”

He paused, as though he were trying to justify what he'd done, not just to me, but to himself.

“You have to understand. I just want her to live.”

I whipped my head toward him, unable to believe what I was hearing.

Because she saved your life, you're willing to sacrifice mine?

I'm your wife! We've been together for ten years!

The words burned in my throat, but I couldn't force a single one out.

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe.

Shane took one hand off the wheel and stroked my hair, the way someone might soothe a misbehaving pet.

“I'm only asking you to give up a little time and a little of your health. You're not going to die, Wendy.”

He even smiled, though there was something terrifyingly cold in his eyes.

“But if you don't cooperate, Aria might be dead by tomorrow. Could you really live with that?”

He was making me responsible for her life, using my suffering to prove just how much he loved another woman.