Prince Charmings (BOOK ONE)

2

For a guy barely breaking minimum wage, Mr. Barkers had a pretty kick-ass house.

Most of the walls in the living area were decorated in cringy family photos, a couple with a woman I assumed to be his wife, and a shelf was dedicated to his degrees.

Clark let out a low whistle at that, gesturing at a doctorate diploma.

"Not such a smartass if he couldn't make me understand Macbeth." he chuckled, tossing me a wry smile.

"Can you please keep your voice down," I whispered harshly, sticking close to the walls in hopes that touching nothing would help me maintain some level of innocence.

Clark got the hint, pretending to zip his mouth shut before gesturing towards the hall. At the end, nestled beside a wooden staircase, was a semi-ajar door. Judging by the bulky Mac computer sat on a winged desk that had to be Barkers office.

"You swear he had them printed? You're not going to make me attempt to Mr. Robot that hunk of metal?" I asked, shooting Clark a serious look.

He nodded, running a hand along his head. Even in the winter, he kept his head shaved, a habit maintained even after he quit the swim team. It suited him, highlighting the way his entire face lit up when he smiled.

Clark punched my shoulder, pulling me back into the present.

"Quit zoning out or you're gonna be the one to get us caught," he said, starting down the hallway.

I ducked behind him, sparing a glance to the stairs as he pushed the door open with the tip of his foot. It didn't creak, which was a plus. The curtains were pulled open, allowing the natural light from outside in.

Perching on the edge of the desk, Clark cautioned against sitting in the desk chair, immediately rifling through the drawers. Pulling loose some old receipts and a dozen fast-food menu's he slumped back after a couple minutes, stumped.

"Huh."

I cast him a look. "Please tell me that's not a 'Huh, guess we didn't need to break in because Barkers didn't keep a hard copy at home'?"

"If you're going to keep being a bitch about this go wait in the kitchen or something. Make a sandwich and calm down with the hysteria," he said, casting me away with the flourish of his hand.

Pursing my lips I sent him one last dirty look behind his back before wandering out the room.

Pausing by the stairs I checked for any sign of Barkers. Hearing nothing I begrudgingly entered the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the room was small but well taken care of. The appliances were modern, but showed signs of use. A couple wide candles sat lit above the sink, giving the glass facing the yard an ominous glow.

I ran a finger through the flame, surprised to find the candle to be real and stepped back. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a splash of red flash past the window. Honing in I made out the figure of an overweight ginger cat, stretching its hind paws onto a broken lawn chair before hopping up. It's weight sunk the middle, causing the silhouette of the chair to frown back at me.

I know how you feel buddy, I thought back at it, I don't wanna be stuck here either.

"You done making eyes with that cat?" a voice blurted from me.

I startled, spinning around quickly to catch the cocky smirk on Clark's face.

"Very cute," I murmured, catching my breath and doubly glad it wasn't Barkers there to meet me. "Find it?"

"Oh I found a lot of things," Clark smirked, glancing at his phone.

He quickly swiped through his photos, talking a mile a minute. "God, this would make such good blackmail material. Did you know Barkers is subscribed to Penthouse? I didn't know they still made that thing! It was hidden under this dense stack of accounting shit."