Dark Seduction (Vampire Royals of New York #2) - Sarah Piper Page 0,55

you later, Charley -girl.” He exhaled another cloud of smoke, then flicked away the cigarette butt and walked off, disappearing around the corner.

That was it. No outward threats. No shake-down. No warnings.

Just an appearance. A reminder.

Charley leaned against the bricks and sighed. She wasn’t afraid of Bones—at least, he’d never given her a reason to be. But she hated being spied on. Hated what Rudy had done to her. Hated that he was doing it even now, intruding on the one place she’d wanted to believe he couldn’t reach.

Rudy wasn’t even trying to scare her—he could’ve sent thugs to threaten her for that. No, he just wanted her to know he was watching her. Always.

“Who’s the creep?” Sasha stuck her head out through the doorway, nodding toward the spot Bones had just vacated. “I saw you talking to him.”

“Just some guy looking for beer money.” Charley forced a bright smile. “Did you scope out the candy?”

“Yep. I’ve got it all planned out. Let’s go.”

As they waited in line for the ticket booth, Sasha hummed and bobbed her head, totally comfortable, totally content. For her, the future looked bright and happy, even if she had to navigate a few bumps along the way. Her seemingly endless joy was a firm reminder that Charley had done the right thing, asking Dorian for help. Charley’s own future didn’t hold many bright spots, but Sasha’s certainly did. Charley would see to that at all costs.

“Two tickets for the double feature,” Charley said to the kid behind the ticket window.

He pushed the credit card machine toward her. “Twenty-two dollars even.”

Charley swiped her card, but the machine wouldn’t read it. She tried again—no luck. Just a series of angry beeps.

“Sorry about that,” the kid said. “Thing’s been wonky all day. I’ll have to manually enter it.”

She handed over the card, a trickle of unease rolling through her chest.

The machine beeped again.

“Sorry,” the kid said, lowering his voice to spare Charley some embarrassment. “It says the card’s declined.”

“What? That’s—forget it. I have another one.” Charley fished out her secondary card and handed it over, but no matter how many times the kid tried the numbers, the machine kept up its incessant squawking.

“Did you put a fraud alert on this?” he asked. “It’s declining this one too.”

The trickle of unease turned into fear, sinking like a stone in Charley’s stomach.

There was only one reason both her cards would suddenly be declined.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” She held out her hand for the card, cheeks burning. “I’ll have to call the company.”

“Sorry, I have to keep it. Do you have cash?”

Holy fuck.

The reality of her situation slapped her hard in the face.

Those cards were her only access to money.

Without warning, Rudy had just cut her off.

“Charley?” Sasha was at her elbow, tugging her arm. “What’s wrong?”

She met Sasha’s eyes, shame slithering down her spine.

I can’t even buy my sister a movie ticket.

“Something’s wrong with my cards,” Charley said. “I have to call the bank, but for now, I can’t get the tickets.”

“That’s it?” Sasha laughed, her brow crinkling with confusion, as if this were just some minor pothole on the road of life. “Damn, girl. I thought someone died. I’ll get the tickets—it’s no problem.”

Charley tried to refuse, but Sasha was already handing over her debit card. The machine chimed happily, and the kid handed over two tickets.

“Enjoy the show,” he said.

Sasha insisted on paying for the candy too, and as she headed to the snack counter, Charley waited on the sidelines and took stock of her assets, wondering how far she could make them stretch: a few hundred bucks in the false-bottomed cookie jar, a monthly MetroCard that was good for another three weeks on the subway, a coupon for a free latte at Perk…

That was it.

Her mind spun with new worries. What if Rudy stopped payment on the maintenance fees of her penthouse? What could she do about it? Report him to the labor board for unfair practices?

Charley bit her lip, cursing herself for being so naive. She should’ve been taking cash advances out from the credit cards, a little at a time, squirreling it away for a rainy day.

Now, she was about to walk straight into a hurricane, and she didn’t even have an umbrella.

Stupid, stupid girl.

Her whole life she’d been shuffled from one man to the next, never given the opportunity to grow, to change, to be anything other than Charlotte D’Amico, the phantom art thief. She was her father’s, and then she