Anubis's Star: A Paranormal Romance

(Valleywood Book #22) Giovanna

Reaves
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Anubis's Star
A PARANORMAL ROMANCE

VALLEYWOOD BOOK
BOOK TWENTY-TWO
GIOVANNA REAVES
 EDITED BY
CONTAGIOUS EDITS
ILLUSTRATED BY
CATE ASHWOOD
 Contents
Blurb
Acknowledgments

Chapter One
Star
Chapter Two
Star
Chapter Three
Star
Chapter Four
Anubis
Chapter Five
Anubis
Chapter Six
Star
Chapter Seven
Anubis
Chapter Eight
Star
Chapter Nine
Star
Chapter Ten
Anubis
Chapter Eleven
Star
Chapter Twelve
Anubis
Chapter Thirteen
Anubis
Chapter Fourteen
Anubis
Chapter Fifteen
Anubis
Chapter Sixteen
Star
Chapter Seventeen
Star
Chapter Eighteen
Star
Chapter Nineteen
Star
Chapter Twenty
Star
Chapter Twenty-One
Star
Chapter Twenty-Two
Star
Chapter Twenty-Three
Star
Chapter Twenty-Four
Anubis
Chapter Twenty-Five
Star
Chapter Twenty-Six
Star
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Star
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Star
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Star
Chapter Thirty
Star
Epilogue

Thank You
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Also by Giovanna Reaves
My One-Night Stand Series
Copyrights

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by
any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than
that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Your non-refundable purchase allows you to one legal copy of this work for your own personal use. You do not have resell or distribution
rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any
format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload, or for a fee.

Disclaimer: This book may contain explicit sexual content, graphic, adult language, and situations that some readers may find
objectionable which might include: male/male sexual practices and multiple partner sexual practices.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual
places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not
in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a
descriptive capacity.

Copyright © 2023 Giovanna ‘Gia’ Reaves © 2021 GiaReaves Romance Books, LLC
 Blurb

Doubt has never been part of Anubis's vocabulary - he's confident, driven, and knows exactly what he
desires, even if it means he’s given up finding his forever one. Yet, upon seeing Star, everything
changes - from their immediate attraction and desire to his mysterious background. Despite his
misgivings, fate keeps pushing them closer, and neither Anubis nor Star can deny their affection for
one another.

Thrust into the world of magic, young up-and-coming actor Star Rueng is hesitant to get entangled in
love again. After being hurt by trusting the wrong man with his heart and career, he decides he doesn’t
need the heartache. But the moment he sets eyes on Anubis Ahket, he is enthralled to the point of
obsession. As Star struggles to comprehend his newfound world, he soon realizes he cannot help but
fall for a man he believes is too good for him.

With only a spark of attraction, the fates never get it wrong.

 Acknowledgments

Thank you Cate, Lindsay, Avril, and Katie for everything you’ve done for me. Thanks to Shane K.
Morton for the use of Nephthy aka Dark Raven.
“Loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will.” – Elaine Davis
Chapter One
 STAR

S even Years Ago

He stared at his blood-soaked hands, trying to determine where the blood was coming from. He didn’t
remember cutting himself, but even a tiny nick wouldn’t cause so much blood.

"You killed him!" Star heard a shrill voice say. Raising his head, he saw a woman crouched in the
corner.

Her face was stained with blood, making it difficult for him to recognize her or understand why she
was in the apartment he shared with his lover, though they pretended to be only roommates. There
was something strangely familiar in her squawking, and all Star wanted was a moment of silence to
process the situation.

“Who…” He tried to speak, but the woman shrieked again, making him cover his ears.

“You murderer!”

“Mu—” Again he tried to speak, but the next second he felt an excruciating shooting pain all over his
body, shaking violently before falling to the ground. Not long after, there were voices he didn’t
recognize speaking all at once, and he didn’t understand what they were saying.

He was so confused. Questions swirled in his head as activity swarmed around him. Who were all
these people? Who is that woman? What is she doing in my apartment? And where did all the
blood come from?

Where is my lover? Where is Thornton? His heart sank as he dreaded the answer.

PRESENT
Star sighed heavily, gazing up at the broken ceiling while trying to block out his cellmate, Dent's,
snoring. He reflected on when his life had taken a downward turn seven years prior. He had been a
fairly well-known model, backup dancer, and background singer, but he had started transitioning his
career into becoming a serious actor.

It all started when he was six years old and was cast in a community play. Though it wasn’t the lead
role, the adults had been impressed enough with his performance that they showered him with
compliments. What meant the most to him was that despite being busy, his parents had taken time off
work to come and watch him perform. His mother had held him close, flooding him with hugs and
kisses, calling him her little star.

Star came from humble beginnings in a small town in Virginia. His father, Gammon—or Gam, as most
referred to him as—had worked himself to death building a small clothing store, which later had to be
sold to cover his debts and funeral costs. That was when Star's bad luck began, as not long after his
father's death, his mother, Latoya, died in a car accident when he was twelve years old.

His aunt Kali, his mother’s younger sister, and her husband, Fuse, took him in. However, it wasn’t out
of the kindness of their hearts, as they made it clear they were unhappy about having him around. He
was fed, sheltered, and clothed but ignored and excluded from any family outings. Star never
complained and eventually left when the time was right.

A sound outside Star's cell pulled him from his thoughts momentarily. He hated his current situation,
but he could not pretend to be an innocent party. He had killed a man, although it was not
premeditated, nor could he claim self-defense. He was guilty of the crime.

A crime of passion was what the prosecution called it.

His defense lawyers didn’t seem to have much of a case since he was caught with the murder weapon,
and was covered in blood. Not to mention the eyewitness. Star had acted in a jealous rage when he
saw his lover in the throes of passion, making love to someone else in their bed. Over the past seven
years, Star wondered why he had not walked away when he caught them, but at that moment, it was as
if he had snapped and been possessed by an unknown force.

To this day, Star only remembered bits and pieces of what happened. He knew there was a trial and
that the jury didn’t need to spend days or even hours before returning with a guilty verdict. Star
closed his eyes, trying not to think about his actions. If his parents were alive, they would be ashamed
of him.

Star had a pretty hard life after the death of his parents, but he also had to admit that there was some
good fortune. He’d been living in Hollywood for almost four years, going to drama school full-time
and working as a server part-time at a diner when Thornton Nash discovered him, and it didn’t take
him long to get his first modeling gig. More opportunities came his way when word got around that he
knew how to sing and dance.

Even though he was new to the game, Star was hot and on a roll, and there was nothing he couldn’t
do. And more importantly, he had—or thought he had—the best person taking him to the top. It didn’t
take Star long to realize Thornton’s charming smile and sweet words were filled with lies and
heartbreak.

Star slammed his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, trying to hold back the onslaught of a panic attack
he got every time he thought of Thornton. But the cracked ceiling he had been gazing at started
spinning, his heart was beating so loud and wildly that it lost its rhythm. His throat went dry as his
breath came out in short pants.

Star's hands trembled, his palms were soaked in sweat. Refusing to open his eyes, tears streaked
down his face as he frantically tried to control his emotions. He was desperately trying to avoid being
sent back to the psych ward and being drugged and forced to talk about his feelings. His relationship
with Thornton was a secret—even from his closest friend, Vivienne. In today's society, same-sex
relationships were still frowned upon, and couples were persecuted if discovered. However, those
with money and power were privileged enough to indulge in such relationships without fear of
repercussions. After all, Thornton had given Star to a few influential people in Hollywood and even a
handful of government officials to be used as a bargaining chip in their dealings.

Although Star thought women were beautiful he was not attracted to them, he knew from an early age
that he was gay. His ideal partner was a strong, dominant man who could both punish and reward him,
depending on his behavior. Unfortunately, his relationship with Thornton was not the perfect love
story he had hoped for. At first, Star felt protected and cherished, but it all fell apart so quickly,
something he was still coming to terms with. Others knew what Thornton had done to him, yet they
remained silent. Vivienne was the only person who had shown him compassion, despite not knowing
about his relationship with Thornton. Had someone stepped up in his defense, perhaps the jury's
ruling wouldn't have been so severe, and Star wouldn't have believed his sexuality had influenced the
length of his sentence.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Star murmured gently.

“Yes, you did,” came a voice he recognized.

It was the voice of the man he’d killed seven years ago.

No, I didn't! Star sobbed, thrashing around in his rack, not caring if he fell off. His heart and mind
were broken beyond repair. I was the fool who loved you and believed in your lies, but you cheated
on me with that bitch. You sold me off to anyone who could benefit your life with her. You turned
me into an addict and your whore. You never cared.

Despite the secrecy of their relationship, Star understood Thornton's need to maintain the facade of
being merely an artist and his manager to those who were unaware of the situation. It wasn't until the
trial that Star uncovered the truth about Thornton's lies. Numerous facts were exposed in court,
including recordings of Star sleeping with various producers and directors, which Thornton had
intended to use as bargaining power if he couldn't get what he wanted for the one he truly adored. Star
couldn’t believe he had been such an idiot.

You never loved me, Thornton. You loved money and that woman.

“You’re wrong,” said the voice. “I loved you and only you. Everything I did was for you.”

Star shot up from his bed, head thumping against the low ceiling, but the pain was nothing compared
to the hurt of his heart. “It was you who didn't love me,” he shouted, his voice full of emotion.

“Shut the fuck up!” someone yelled in anger.

“No one fucking loves you, asshole.” A few more inmates joined in, just as angry as the first. They
added more and more insults, but Star paid them no mind. The voices escalated until a couple of
correctional officers shouted for everyone to be silent.

Star had grown accustomed to the insults, his thick skin hardening over the years spent in the
penitentiary. He sighed deeply, allowing himself to take a few calming breaths to steady his emotions.

“Hey, all right up there, Rueng?” Dent’s husky voice inquired.

“Yeah,” Star croaked out a quick response. “Sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep.”

Dent hummed softly, and seconds later, the man was snoring again. Star smiled, envying his cellmate’s
ability to doze off so quickly, but he always seemed alert at the first sign of danger. Dent had been
given a thirty-year sentence for the murder of his business partner six months before Star arrived at
the prison. Despite his conviction, Dent maintained that he was innocent.

Dent had no way to prove his innocence, yet no one seemed to take it into account. Having been a
bodyguard before, Dent co-founded a real estate business with his late partner, Mellow Franklin, who
was also a former bodyguard. Dent recounted to the police that he and Mellow had disagreed about a
proposed merger and that Dent had walked out in a fit of rage; however, Mellow was still alive when
he left the premises.

After leaving the office, he headed to a nearby bar where he encountered a stunning woman who
invited him to grab something to eat, intending to get to know each other and perhaps conclude the
night at a hotel. Unfortunately, the evening didn't turn out as he had hoped, and their date ended far
sooner than he had anticipated. With some time to spare and not wanting to return to his empty
apartment, he decided to return to his office. Just as he stepped off the elevator, Dent heard a loud
bang emanating from Mellow's office, resembling a gunshot.

When Dent arrived at the entrance to Mellow's office, he was hit in the back of the head by something
hard, which pushed him forward, causing him to hit his head and black out, never seeing who struck
him. Upon regaining consciousness, the police had their guns trained on him. To his shock, Dent had a
gun in his hand. He was uncertain of how it happened, yet the evidence pointed to Dent as the culprit;
his fingerprints were all over the weapon used to take Mellow's life, and multiple witnesses had
attested to hearing Dent threaten to kill Mellow, yet none had seen him leave the building, and the
surveillance cameras showed no trace of his exit.

The investigators thoroughly interrogated the woman Dent went out to dinner with, and she adamantly
maintained that she had never laid eyes on Dent before. He had paid for their meal in cash and had not
kept the receipt, which only worked against him in court. Desperate to prove his innocence, Dent had
appealed his case multiple times in the last seven years, but all his efforts were in vain.

Star felt sorry for Dent.

The man was built like a fucking truck and could probably bench press him with one hand, but Star
knew under all that muscle, Dent was a gentle giant with a sweet soul. It might’ve been his naivete,
but he believed in his cellmate’s innocence, unlike his own. Also, Dent had been protecting him from
the day he entered the Dark Citadel Maximum Security Penitentiary. Star would have loved to hire a
talented lawyer to help free Dent, but as it stood, he was so broke in and out of prison that he couldn’t
even afford water.

Feeling more relaxed, Star reclined and glanced up at the ceiling, full of disappointment in his life.
He had made a huge mistake when he got involved with Thornton Nash. Rolling onto his side, he
curled up in a fetal position and pondered what he would’ve done differently if given a second
chance. When Thornton had discovered Star, he was young and eager for fame. Even now, after
spending seven years in prison, his longing for fame was still insatiable. His fifteen minutes of fame
had lasted for almost two years, yet it hadn't been enough to quench his ambition.

Star had always dreamed of being in the entertainment business. He imagined his name in bright lights
and fans' adoring screams as they chanted it. He was determined to make his dreams come true, so
after graduating high school at seventeen, Star said goodbye to his best friends, Tanner and Jacob,
took his savings from working part-time after school and full-time in the summer, and set off for
California. His goal was to make his mark in Hollywood, but he never expected that his mark would
be as a murderer.
Only a few days before his twenty-fourth birthday, he ended up taking Thornton's life. If only he had
taken Vivienne up on her offer to go out for dinner after getting off the plane, instead of returning to
his home and seeing his partner in an act of infidelity. Star hadn't spoken to Thornton in weeks, as he
was in Paris for a fashion show. He was both exhausted and excited to see his lover.

Star was deeply in love with Thornton, but he could no longer ignore the truth of the affair. He trusted
Thornton with his career and heart, following Thornton's "suggestions," believing that it would further
his career. At Thornton's urging, Star would starve himself to dangerous levels, all to keep up with
his lover’s expectations. He was blinded by his ambition and naivety, unable to see the true nature of
the situation. It took Star going to jail for him to realize how truly young and dumb he had been. Star
had often wondered, if he had been cautioned before his first mistake, would he have listened to the
warning?

For whatever reason, a conversation came to mind, one he’d had with a stranger he’d shared a cab
with on the morning he was supposed to sign a contract with Equi-Noxx Entertainment with their new
modeling agency. Star had gotten in the taxi and rattled off the address to the company without
noticing he was not the only one in the backseat until he smelled the expensive cologne.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Star said when he noticed the handsome man sitting beside him. “I didn’t know it
was taken.”

The car stopped right in front of me when I hailed for one. I need to pay attention next time.
Goodness, I hope he’s not a killer.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m not a killer,” the man said, and Star looked at him, wondering
if he could hear his thoughts.

“You mumbled your thoughts.” The man chuckled.

“Oh.” Star had a habit of saying his thoughts out loud when he was nervous, without realizing it.

The stranger smiled. “It’s quite all right. From the sounds of it, we’re going to the same place. We’ll
share.”

Seeing nothing wrong with that, Star nodded and pulled out his cell phone, sending Thornton a
message that he was running a few minutes behind.

“Are you sure you’re making the right decision?” the stranger said in a deep voice that was soothing,
almost hypnotic.

Star was about to take out his headphones so that he couldn’t hear the man’s conversation with
whoever he was talking to, but there was a tap on his shoulder, making him look up. The stranger was
dark and handsome, with mysterious green-gold eyes that seemed to bore into him.

“Are you going to answer my question?” the man asked.

“You’re talking to me?” Star asked stupidly.

The handsome stranger chuckled. “Yes,” he responded. “It seems Kharon is not up for conversation
this morning.”

“Kharon?” Star was a little confused about who the man was talking about.

“My driver,” he answered, pointing to the man driving the car.

Star wasn’t sure how he missed it, but Kharon was not dressed casually but was wearing all-black
chauffeur attire, down to the hat. Star instantly scanned the car’s interior, noticing how lavish it was
and resembling nothing like a taxi.

“Wait, didn’t I get into a cab? How the hell…” he rambled to himself. “Fuck, how many more times
will I embarrass myself today?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” the man said, instantly distracting him from his thoughts.

“And that was?”

The handsome man crossed one leg leisurely over the other. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“What are you talking about?” Star was getting annoyed with the man but tried not to show it because
he was in a sticky situation.

“The choices we make now can have consequences later. So don’t be so hasty. You have other
options.” He pinned Star with a serious gaze.

“Dude, I do not know what you are rambling on about,” he huffed.

“You will one day.” He reached out, placed a finger on Star’s forehead, and he felt a chill run through
him. “If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?”

Star quickly smacked his hand away in anger and fear. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled.

“So young and foolish, but I like you.”

Who gives a fuck? Star thought.

The stranger smiled. “If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?”

Star was about to respond to give a quick answer, but the man stopped him.
“Don’t answer yet. Think about it and give me your answer when you’re ready. I will hear it. We’ve
arrived at your destination.”

Star turned and stared out of the car window, seeing they were in front of the Equi-Noxx
Entertainment building. He didn’t know how things had turned so uncomfortable between him and the
stranger, but before the guy could say more, Star got out of the car and hurried to the entrance of the
building. But before he could open the door, he chastised himself for being rude. He could have at
least said thank you.

Star turned and went to speak to the man, but the car was gone. He didn’t even see signs of it down
the street. It was as if it had disappeared. Star thought about that encounter for a few days, then
chalked it up to a weird conversation, but now, he couldn’t help but wonder if the man would be
ready to hear his answer.

“I’m thinking nonsense. It was just a weird-ass conversation.”

Star sighed deeply, closing his eyes and clearing his mind, hoping he’d get a couple hours of sleep
before the correctional officers woke them. At this point, there was nothing he could do about his
situation. Well, not for another fourteen years when he would be up for probation.

Star’s chest was stabbed with a sharp pain, and he gripped his shirt, hoping to stop the pain, but he
felt something wet and warm. He opened his eyes and connected with unrecognizable green ones,
wondering who they were or where the person had come from. Star didn’t need to guess how the man
had gotten into his cell when at least three correctional officers were on guard. But the question was,
what happened to Dent? He fell asleep quickly but was a light sleeper, so Star figured he was dead.

“Who—?” was all Star could get out. But the man knew what he meant.

“Sundi Noxx sends her regards.”

Star’s eyes widened in understanding. The night he killed Thornton, he had also injured Sundi Noxx,
slashing her in the face a couple of times, not even plastic surgery could repair the scars. Star hadn’t
meant to hurt her. He was out of control and his wild swings struck her in the face.

The person raised their hand, and Star saw the sharp silver blade twinkling in the light. He went to
scream, but the person covered his mouth and brought the knife down, stabbing him again. Star was
going to die, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Sundi had waited so long. He’d been in prison for
seven years, and she’d had ample time to kill him. He didn’t know if she was taking revenge for
herself or Thornton.

After everything was said and done, Vee, his friend, told him Thornton and Sundi were in love and
planned to marry. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Thornton was dead and wasn’t going to come back to
life. If only he could change things, returning to the day he signed his contract with Equi-Noxx
Entertainment. Then his life wouldn’t have turned out the way it did. He wouldn’t have disappointed
so many people in his life—especially Vee, the only person who genuinely believed in him and his
talent.

Star always had the thought that when he was ready to have children, he’d ask her to be his surrogate,
not because she was gorgeous, but because she had a charming personality and a beautiful soul that lit
up any room she was in. It took Star too long to realize that Vee was the only good thing in his life.

Fuck, I miss her. In the beginning, Vee used to visit Star, but after a few months, he told her to stop
and forget about him. She would still visit him, but Star refused to see her. Vee had a life to live.

He regretted so many things, like ignoring a call from Tanner the day he signed the contract with Equi-
Noxx. He always wondered why Tanner called him when they hadn’t spoken in years. After not
speaking to him for so long, Star never had the courage to call him back, especially after how his life
turned out.

How weird that I would think about him as I’m about to die?

If Star remembered correctly, he went to college in Pennsylvania after graduating high school. If only
he had done like Tanner and gone to college. Or better yet, walked out the fucking door when he
caught his lover boning someone else, instead of going into the kitchen and grabbing a knife, and
stabbing Thornton fifty times. Instead of fighting death, Star accepted it.

It’s not like I can go back in time and change my future.

Chapter Two
 STAR

S tar was in a wave of darkness, and he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed, but he was
not afraid. There was a sweet smell that reminded of gardenias wafting under his nose, followed by a
soft giggle.

“I see why this little one was chosen,” said the gentle voice. “Don’t you think so, my love?”

A tender touch brushed against his cheek, and Star leaned into it rather than moving away. The scent
of lilies tickled his nose, making him realize it was a different person.

“I agree. His soul is beautiful,” came another sweet voice. “I can see why he was marked.”

“Too bad he lived a torturous life,” added a new voice. “Cover the mark and make sure it’s not
noticed by the other one.”

“All that will change soon,” said another. “Do you think he will be angry if we intervene?”

“Of course, he will,” answered the first serene voice. “Which is why we cannot let him find out.”

“Do you think this is meddling?”

“Of course not.” The person who responded sounded very offended by the question. “We are simply
righting a wrong. I wish we could fix everything, but some things must remain the same as they were.”

“We’ve meddled enough. Let’s begin.”

“I hate to hurt him,” the voice said worriedly. “But it is his fate.”

Everything went quiet, and Star felt a slight brush on his forehead; it felt like soft pillowed lips, and
the smell of gardenias took over his senses, comforting him even more. “You will be tested, but be
afraid no more, my child. He will protect you. Enjoy your second chance at life.”

Heat brushed his skin, turning hot as it moved to his stomach and back, searing throughout his entire
body. He opened his mouth and screamed, but no sound came out, causing Star’s entire body to feel as
if it were being rearranged. Star’s entire body was in pain, from the hair on his head down to his toes.
Star wanted to speak and beg for the pain to stop, but even his teeth hurt. He tried to reach for
something to hold on to, but his fingers down to his nails felt like the bones were being shattered and
regrown. Star wasn’t sure how long the tortuous agony lasted, but he felt as if he was dying again, this
time with more pain than before. Throughout the pain, he begged for forgiveness and hoped someone
would hear his plea.

***

Star groaned, experiencing some discomfort in his body that was slowly fading.

Fuck, why am I in pain?

“Star!”

Star snapped his eyes open when he heard someone shout his name. His vision was a little blurry, and
he rubbed his eyes to clear the fog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Star twisted his head to the side so quickly that he could have sworn he almost had whiplash when
there was an angry whisper in his ear. He gasped and instantly pushed back, falling out of his chair
and staring wide-eyed at the man sitting next to him, and his pain was instantly forgotten.

No, it’s impossible. He should be dead. I killed him. How is he alive? It can’t be!

Star raised his hand, pointing at Thornton. “You…”

“Me what?” Thornton snapped.

Star went to answer Thornton, but a cell phone rang. He wasn’t sure who it belonged to, and slowly
he panned his head to the sound but stopped midway as something akin to deja vu came to him.

“Why does this feel so familiar?” he mumbled. He had been so confused that he hadn’t realized the
phone had stopped ringing or that everyone was staring at him.

His gaze drew up to Thornton’s face, and it morphed from perfection to the gruesome image of the
disfigured scene as Star had last seen him. His perfectly chiseled jaw and deep blue eyes that had
captured Star's interest at first sight gave way to the bloody horror Star had caused. Star closed his
eyes tightly, not wanting to see it. He wasn’t sure what was happening. He remembered going to jail
for killing Thornton and then being killed in his cell. Star’s eyes widened, and he looked down,
grabbing his chest, surprised when he didn’t see any blood on his shirt.
I was stabbed. I remember dying in prison. How can I be alive when I was killed? Fuck, fuck, fuck,
nothing is making sense.

“Is everything all right?” someone asked, and Star turned his gaze to them and instantly recognized
Courtney Spencer, a top executive of the Equi-Noxx talent and management agency. He was there the
day Star signed his contract with the company.

Wait, if he’s here and Thornton is alive, could it be I… Star didn’t get to finish his thought, when
Thornton spoke up.

“Yes, everything is fine,” he said to the Spencer guy, but his eyes were solely on Star. Thornton
walked over to Star and reached for his arm, speaking through his clenched teeth. “Get up and stop
acting like a fucking idiot. If you ruin this for me, you won’t like it.”

Star said nothing as he was led over to the table and shoved into a chair. He knew what Thornton was
like when he was angry. However, the evil that lurked within Thornton hadn't emerged until later in
their relationship. Star kept staring at the man, wondering if he was dreaming.

There’s no way I’m awake. If I am, there has to be a perfectly good explanation for why Thornton
is alive.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” Thornton growled lowly. “Sign the fucking contract.”

Contract? What contract?

“The one we came here to sign. Why are you acting so shaky when you know what we came here to
do?” Thornton furrowed his brows, seeming genuinely concerned for Star. “All you need to do is sign
on the bottom line, and the deal is complete.”

He pointed to the desk, and Star followed Thornton’s arm to his pointer finger with his eyes, stopping
when he saw the company logo for Equi-Noxx Entertainment. Star then read the first line. As an
agreement made with… He stopped when he saw his name filled in on the line and wondered how it
got there.

He lifted his gaze and looked at everyone in the room, from Courtney Spencer to Brock Fairchild,
who was the company’s lawyer, and it hit him. Star pinched his legs and bit on his tongue to cut off
his whimper. This wasn’t a dream, nor was he dead. He didn’t know how it happened, but somehow,
he had gone back in time. He had never been religious nor believed in higher beings, but he was now
grateful to whoever gave him a second chance. And he would not waste it.

Star looked at Thornton again and was grateful that the man was still alive, but he would not be a fool
for him. He could honestly say that Thornton had never loved him. Star had thought they wanted the
same thing, but they were both traveling on different paths. The first time Star signed the contract,
he’d been excited, and he was so infatuated with Thornton. He wanted to be the man’s rock. But he
ruined his life for a man who only saw him as usable.

Star closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and pushed his chair back. He opened his eyes as he
stood and faced his ex-lover. Star was going to do something he should have done when he walked in
on Thornton having an affair.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry,” Star said. Grabbing his phone, he stepped back from Thornton, who was
about to grab his arm. “I’m not the one you want.” He wasn’t specific about what he meant, but he
couldn’t be a part of Thornton’s life anymore.

Turning, Star hurried, trying to get out of the building as fast as he could. He felt stuffy, and his heart
thumped loudly in his chest. It was so painful he thought he was going to die. He knew what was
happening. Panic attacks like this occurred constantly over the seven years he was in jail. Once he
was outside, he was about to take off running, but his arm was grabbed, and someone whirled him
around. People passed and bumped into him, seeming to be uninterested in someone standing in their
way.

“What the actual fuck, Star!” Thornton growled. His handsome face looked unnatural, as if possessed
by an evil force.

“Let me go,” Star said, his voice trembling. His chest hurt, and his vision grew cloudy as fear took
over his mind and body. “Please, let me go.”

“No, not until you tell me why. Why did you act like that in there? Why didn’t you sign the contract?
You know how much I want to work for this company.”

“Let me go,” Star said, ignoring everything Thornton was saying. “Let me go!”

“I said not until you tell me,” Thornton yelled just as another voice spoke.

“You heard what he said.”

Star knew that voice. The person had been a constant friend to him for six years. He was even more
confident about who the person was when they stepped to the side, and Star saw his hulking figure
and his arresting brown eyes. Star did not know where he came from, but he was happy to see him.

Denton Sparks.

“Who the fuck are you?” Thornton asked as Star kept staring at his friend, who looked the same but
was handsomely dressed in a dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt, the first button undone—a
significant difference from the prison jumpsuit they both used to wear. Dent ignored Thornton’s
question and focused his eyes on Star.

“Are you okay?”

Tears welled in Star’s eyes as he shook his head no, and just like the first time they met, Dent rescued
him. He pushed Thornton to the side and pulled Star to him, who buried his face in the big man’s
chest, letting his tears flow. Star’s body shook in fright, but being next to Dent calmed him, and he had
to keep telling himself to breathe.

“Star, what the hell is wrong with you?” Thornton asked. “Can’t you even tell me what’s wrong?”
And he softened his tone, his voice touching a tiny spot in Star’s heart, but it still didn’t make him
want to face Thornton.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Dent whispered in his ear. Star frantically shook his head.

“Who the fuck are you to speak for him? I didn’t ask you. And how do you know my friend?”
Thornton shouted at Dent.

“I don’t know him,” Dent said. “But when I see someone being harassed, I will not stand by and
watch.”

“Harassed my ass,” Thornton growled. “Didn’t you hear me say we’re friends? Star, who the fuck is
this?”

Dent went to speak, but Star pulled on his suit jacket, showing that he wanted to leave. He couldn’t
stand there and listen to Thornton anymore; his voice kept reminding him of what happened.

“Want to go,” Star said softly.

“Hey, man, I have no clue what’s going on between you two, but he doesn’t seem comfortable around
you right now. So how about you give him some space, and when he’s ready, he’ll call you.”

“What?” Thornton said.

“Please,” Star said loud enough for Thornton to hear. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t walk away in that
second, but he waited for Thornton’s answers.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Just call me later.”

Star nodded. Dent wrapped an arm around Star’s shoulder and led him away.

“There’s a coffee shop a few blocks up the road,” Dent said. “How about we head there?”

“Okay,” Star said, feeling better the farther they got from Equi-Noxx headquarters.
“So, your name is Star? Mine’s Dent.”

He stepped out of Den’t arms and cleaned off his face. “Hello, Dent, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Star
Rueng.”

“Nice to meet you, Star Rueng,” Dent said.

Star stopped walking, and so did Dent, observing him keenly. “Th…thanks for back there,” he said.
“And you don’t have to go to the coffee shop with me. I can head home.” He couldn’t finish what he
was saying because Dent spoke up.

“Do you still feel a bit shaken up?” he asked, and Star nodded.

Before killing Thornton in his other life, Star never used to have panic attacks.

They silently walked to the coffee shop, and Star could feel his emotions settling down as his brain
tried to figure out what was happening. He’d assumed that he had gone back to the exact moment his
life’s tragedy started, or maybe he was reincarnated, but the question was, why was he given this
chance? Coincidentally, Star spotted a billboard with the date and time flashing and became very
confused. That had to be wrong, because if it was correct…

“Are you all right?”

“Is that the right date?” he asked, pointing to the billboard.

“Yup?”

What the fuck? How is it possible? That’s not the right date for when I signed the contract the first
time. I’m so confused. Things aren’t making sense. Star looked at Dent walking beside him. Is this
the same Dent? Will the same thing happen to him again? Is my past running perpendicular with
my present? Fuck, I’m getting a headache trying to work it all out.

If Star remembered correctly, Dent wouldn’t open his real estate company for another year. Around
this time, he worked for a bodyguard service while working on his real estate license. They got to the
coffee shop, and Dent told him to find a seat while he ordered. Star asked Dent to get him a black
coffee and then went and found them a table, facing a large window looking out at the busy street.

Star let out a long breath now that he had a moment to himself. In a matter of minutes, his entire world
had changed. One second he was dying, and the next, he was sitting in a coffee shop hiding from a
man that used to be his lover. They weren’t fully together yet, but there was a deep attraction between
him and Thornton. But now, after what he had done to Thornton in his last life, there was no way he
would go back and make the same mistake twice. He was not the naive twenty-year-old from the past.
But he also didn’t want to return to the Italian restaurant and work odd jobs. Despite what had
happened in his last life, he still wanted to be an actor.

Things aren’t the same as the last time. Maybe I should give up on being an actor. What if I keep
having panic attacks? Even without a contract, he had a couple of freelance modeling jobs and a few
commercials he’d done to get some screen time. Only after meeting Thornton and getting a constant
stream of work could he stop working at the restaurant and pay for his acting classes. Star figured he
would keep doing that until he knew what to do next.

Just as he had that thought, his cell phone rang, making his hand feel hot. Trepidation coursed through
him, and he hoped Thornton wasn’t calling him. Star turned it over to see the caller ID and sighed
with relief that it wasn’t his ex-lover. However, he furrowed his brows when he saw Tanner
Simmon’s name. Star dropped his phone on the table in shock. In his previous life, Tanner had called
him three times. Still, Star had ignored his phone calls because he was too busy celebrating with
Thornton after signing his contract with Equi-Noxx Entertainment and never returned his calls. He
knew Tanner had left a message after one of the calls, but Star had deleted it without listening to it.

“Are you going to answer that?”

Star looked up quickly when he heard Dent’s voice, then back down to his phone screen. He was
about to turn off his phone but accidentally answered it.

“Hello?” he heard Tanner say.

Timidly, Star brought the phone to his ears. “He…hello.”

“Star! Oh, thank gods, you finally answered. This was going to be the last time I tried calling you. It’s
me, Tanner. I know it’s been a while since we talked. Heck, I promised to keep in touch with you after
high school graduation, and it’s been three years. Dude, I’m sorry.”

Star smiled. He had forgotten that Tanner could be a chatterbox. Out of their friends group, Tanner
could have a conversation with the wind and not look crazy. The only time he was quiet or stuttered
was when he was in the presence of someone he found attractive. Hearing his friend babble brought
more comfort to Star in so many ways.

“It’s all right. I haven’t been a good friend either,” Star said. “But did you call me for a reason?”

“You might find this weird as hell, but I work for the head of an entertainment agency and studio, and
sometimes I get to sort the scripts before I give them to my boss. Sometimes I read them too, and most
of them are amazing. Anyway, my boss wants to produce this new show exclusively on our streaming
platform, and he’s going to try and convince the director to use a no-name actor to play the major role.
And this is the part you’re going to find crazy. I read the script, and your face pops up whenever I try
to picture the lead. It’s a science fiction script, and I know how much you loved reading that stuff in
high school. I remember how good you were in our high school plays. Dude, I took that as a sign. And
you know how I feel about signs. And living in Valleywood and seeing some of the things I have, I
listened and called you.”

Star sat silently, trying to sort out Tanner’s words. He remembered how much his friend was into
astrology and would sometimes drive himself and everyone around him batty because of what his
horoscope said that day. Star had his own kinks and quirks; he was into Egyptian myths and legends.
Star’s eyes widened a few seconds later when he realized what Tanner told him.

“Tanner, are you offering me an acting job?”

“Pfft, I wish. I don't have that kind of clout,” Tanner responded. “Sadly, I can’t do that. I’m just
informing you of an opportunity. It’s up to you to grab it. I mentioned you to my boss, who said the job
could be yours if you pass the audition. My boss has been totally super understanding lately since he
found a lover, everyone’s taking advantage while he’s in a good mood.”

Star rolled his eyes, ignoring the babble, and focused on the main point. “Tanner, you haven’t seen me
act in forever; what if I’m no good anymore?” He chewed on his bottom lip, wondering if Tanner had
lost his mind.

“Who the hell am I talking to?” Tanner said, sounding a bit annoyed. “What happened to you in the
past couple of years? Did you give up on being an actor? The Star Rueng I knew would jump at this
chance in a heartbeat. I thought you went to Hollywood because it was your dream to act. I admit I
haven’t seen you in anything big, but from that commercial I saw, I doubt you’ve given up.”

“I don’t know, Tanner. I might not be who you’re looking for,” Star whispered.

Tanner was silent for a few seconds, then spoke. “Just by the sound of your voice, I can tell you went
through some shit. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come here for a visit, and if you want to audition
for the role, fine. If not, so be it. At least you and I can spend some time together and reconnect. I
really miss you, my friend.”

“Where?” he said, liking the sound of just seeing Tanner.

“Valleywood, Pennsylvania,” he answered.

But in the back of Star’s mind, he wasn’t sure what he was doing. In a matter of minutes, he went from
losing everything to being offered a new job. There had to be a catch to it.

“Tanner, are you being for real with all of this? You’re not trying to pull my leg, right?”

Tanner huffed. “No, man. It’s all legit.”

“But I’ve never heard of Valleywood.”

It sounds like a Hollywood knockoff, Star thought—or assumed, anyway. He realized he’d said it out
loud when Tanner snickered, and Dent chuckled. Star looked at the other man, his face turning red at
his slip-up.

“I’m telling you, dude, don’t judge a place by its name. There’s no place like Valleywood; you’ll
never want to leave once you come here. There’s real magic here, and I can be myself. I can be as
queer and as quirky as I want, and no one will look at me weirdly. We grew up in a small town, and
although people knew we were gay, we still got stares as if something was wrong with us. But I
moved here for college and haven’t even been back to Virginia to visit my folks. They come to see
me.” Tanner chuckled.

What the hell is he talking about? No one knew we were gay. If people did, he and Tanner would
have gotten their asses beat on the regular. Did moving to a new state do something to his head?

“I guess I should visit then,” Star retorted instead of voicing his thoughts.

“So, does that mean you’re coming to see me or for the audition?”

“Nothing wrong if I do both,” Star said, feeling his mouth curl in a smile, but he wondered where in
Pennsylvania is Valleywood?

“Since you’re coming for work, I’ll book a ticket for you and send the audition script. The audition is
in a week. I can show you around if you can get here before then. Is your email address still the
same?”

“Yup, and thanks, Tanner. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Hey, I’m just following my gut.” Star was about to hang up when Tanner spoke. “Hey, I forgot to ask.
Should I get one or two tickets?”

Star’s brows creased together. “Just one, I’m single.”

“All right, cool. Who knows. If you stay in Valleywood, you might find a man who can make your
heart flutter. Hell, I had two chasing after me.” He snickered as the phone disconnected.

“Huh?” was all Star could get out, wondering if he’d heard wrong.

He removed the phone from his ear, staring down at it. Did Tanner say he found two men? Star and
Tanner had come out to each other, and because of the climate, they kept each other’s secret. But to
him, it sounded like his friend was out and living his best life. Did something change while I was
dead?
“Fuck, everything is happening so fast,” Star said, but oddly, he didn’t feel panicked, just doubtful.
What happens if I don’t get the part? But he still had to try.

“Are you okay?”

Star looked at Dent, hearing his question. “Yeah.” He smiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.
Especially after you helped me just now.”

Dent shrugged, leaning forward to pick up his coffee. “It’s no big deal. I had little going on today, and
you seem like you need someone to talk to, even if it’s a stranger.”

But you’re not a stranger to me. You’re like the big brother I never had who protected me for seven
years.

“But on the flip side, I feel like we’ve met before,” Dent said.

That brought a small smile to Star’s face. “Same here.”

“So, it sounds like you’re going to Valleywood. It’s a nice place.”

“You’ve been there before?”

Dent nodded. “Yeah, I helped my bosses move the main office there. They asked me to stay, but I
declined in favor of running the office here with my best friend, Mellow. We plan on starting a real
estate company once I get my license. I go back and forth to Valleywood now and then to see my
bosses.”

Star knew who Mellow was by name since that was who Dent had been accused of killing. Star
hoped he’d be able to help Dent. He didn’t want his friend to be accused of murder. Thinking deeply
about what he could do, Star reached for his coffee, taking a sip, happy that it was still hot. He sighed
in appreciation as the strong, dark, bitter liquid with a hint of sweet slid down his throat, filling his
stomach. Coffee was not accessible in prison, and it was rare that he got to drink it. Even though he
had Dent to protect him, Star still had to pay for things he needed, like soap, shampoo, and other
necessities.

Sighing, he took a few more sips before putting his cup down, then gazed up at Dent. “Thanks for the
coffee.”

Dent nodded. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

“Somewhat.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry you had to help me out. It’s just—I’m not—Thornton and I—”
He paused, unsure of what to say. “It’s complicated between him and me.”

Except for when it came to Thornton, Star had never considered himself timid, nor did he shy away
from things bothering him. He was reserved sometimes and spoke up when the need arose. Star never
bothered with others' business and kept to his small group of friends. But there were parts of himself
he hid from everyone around him. Star felt he could only show a different side of himself when he
was acting.

He missed his parents and wished they were alive to comfort him when needed. He was lonely and
deeply hurt when his aunt and uncle had not seen him as a part of the family, even though they were
flesh and blood. He’d envied Tanner because of how much love and support he got from his family.
When Tanner went off to college, his parents held a grand celebration for him. Their other friend
Mark, his parents bought him a brand-new car with all the bells and whistles and gave him a loan to
open a martial arts dojo instead of going to college. In comparison, Star’s aunt and uncle didn’t even
attend his high school graduation. After his parents died, Star had no one in his corner cheering him
on.

It's no wonder I latched on to Thornton when he told me I’d do well as a model. I needed someone
to lift me up, but he dragged me down to Hell.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Dent told him. “But if you want to, I’ll listen. I feel like
you could use a friend with no strings attached.”

Star smiled and picked up his cup, drinking the rest of his coffee before setting the empty mug down.
His gaze was drawn to the activity outside the window, and he tried to organize his thoughts. His
mind was a jumbled mess, and it would be good for him to take some time to sort out his thoughts, but
truthfully, he didn’t want to leave Dent’s side. The man’s presence was comforting, even if the other
man saw him as a stranger.

“Do you believe in second chances?” Star asked, facing the man who was once his friend and hoping
to capture that friendship again.

“It depends on what the chances are,” Dent responded.

“If you could go back in time and fix your past mistakes, would you?”

“That’s hard to answer. I’m the type of person who rarely dwells on the past; I look toward the
future,” Dent answered.

“How? How do you do that and not worry about the consequences? What if you did something and
later regret it?”

“I go with my gut when encountering those situations,” Dent replied.

“Is it that easy?” Star mumbled.

“Do you regret walking away from your friend?” Dent drank more of his coffee, looking at him. “Do
you think you gave up whatever chance you just turned away from? You still have time to correct it.”

My only regret is that I didn’t do that the first time, he thought. “Thornton and I need to go our
separate ways. I know this makes little sense, but I didn’t listen to the signs before, and the outcome
wasn’t to my liking. I feel like I was given another opportunity to correct it, and I can’t let him be a
part of my life this time.”

“Then isn’t it a good thing you walked away?” Dent asked. “Sometimes, we don’t need to think too
hard about things. It sounds to me like you fixed what was broken, and you’re tying yourself in knots
debating what comes next. I say go with the flow; let the cosmos or your instincts guide you to your
next destination.”

Star smiled wryly. “Maybe you’re right.”

“So, you’re an actor?” Dent said.

“I’m trying to be one,” Star said shyly. “I’ve been here for almost four years, hoping for a chance to
be recognized, and when it happened, I walked away. As you can see, now I’m wondering what’s
next.”

“Then maybe you will find the answer you need in Valleywood.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t
mean to listen in on your conversation. I have good hearing.”

Star smiled. “It’s all good, and you could be right.” He looked down at his phone when it dinged and
saw that he had gotten an email from Tanner. His face brightened when he saw it was his plane ticket
that had him leaving tomorrow.

Damn, Tanner works fast.

He also noticed the other attachment, which was the audition script. However, Star didn’t open the
file. He wanted to read it later when his thoughts weren’t so chaotic. He felt a bit lost in what was
happening and needed time to think. Everything felt the same, yet he’d noticed small differences in
just a short time. One thing was for sure, he needed to get packed, but he didn’t want to return to his
apartment in case Thornton was there. It would be great if he had some protection. Raising his head,
Star’s orange-gold eyes connected with Dent’s chocolate-brown ones as a thought came to him.

“I don’t have much money, but can I hire you as my bodyguard until I get on the plane tomorrow?”

Just as Star asked his question, Dent’s cell phone rang. “Give me a second. I need to get this. It’s the
head of the company I work for,” he said, standing ready to leave, but Star stopped him.

“You don’t have to leave.” Star stood and grabbed his coffee mug. “It’s time for a refill.”
Dent nodded and answered his call. “Hey, Syn, what’s up?”

Star picked up Dent’s empty cup and walked to the counter to order them both a cup of coffee. In
contrast, he took his black and strong with a bit of sugar. Dent, or the man he used to know, liked it
with vanilla-flavored cream.

After placing his order, Star stepped to the side and watched Dent talk on the phone and saw the man
openly smiling. The Dent he knew versus the man in front of him wasn’t that different. He was
positive and seemed to have a good life before tragedy struck. He didn’t know how he was going to
prevent it from happening again. It would be so easy if he were attracted to Dent, and if the other man
was attracted to men, then they could enter into a relationship. Still, he seriously wanted Dent as a
friend and nothing else.

And thinking of relationships, Star made a vow to stay single and not have one. He didn’t want the
hassle of hiding his love affair. From now on, he would focus on accomplishing his dream of being an
actor. Just as Dent finished his phone call, the barista called Star’s name for their coffees, and he
went to get them. Just as he turned to go back to their table, Dent was in front of him.

“Give me a dollar,” Dent said, taking one of the cups from him. Dent tasted the coffee, and Star could
see the shock in his eyes that it was how he liked it. “How do you know this is how I like my coffee?”

“I told you I feel like we’ve met before,” Star said. He returned to their table and sat down, waiting
for the other man to do the same.

“I see,” Dent said, sitting down and staring at Star intently. “So, how about that dollar?”

“Oh,” he said, reaching for his wallet, pulling out the requested amount, and handing it to Dent, who
took it and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I need it?”

“No,” Star told him. “You’ve helped me a lot today, and giving you a dollar is not even enough.”

Dent chuckled. “It’s a retainer fee to be your bodyguard.”

“Just like that?” Star asked.

“When it comes to you, yeah, it’s just like that.”

Star shook his head. The man was still the same as when they met in his last life. “When and what
time do you leave for Valleywood?” Dent asked.

“Tomorrow at nine in the morning.”

“Would you rather leave tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, my boss needs me in Valleywood, and since the pilot is already here dropping off a client, he
wants me to leave tonight.”

“You’re going to Valleywood?” Star said in shock.

“Seems so.”

Star was so happy and hoped he was holding on to his emotions. There he was, trying to think of a
way to keep Dent by his side, and the cosmos intervened.

“Not only that, I feel like I need to keep an eye on you for a bit. I believe fate is pulling us together. I
feel like I’m experiencing a bit of deja vu. In all honesty, I’m not usually on this side of town. But
today, I wanted to walk around instead of going into the office, and my feet led me to you.”

“I feel the same way,” Star said with a slight tilt of his lips. “Like we’ve met before.”

“Maybe we were brothers in a past life,” Dent said and Star chuckled at that because it was how they
were in prison.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll leave tonight.”

“Yeah, I’ll call Tanner and update him. Oh, shit! Tanner never told me if I would stay with him or at a
hotel!” Star said. “And I doubt I’ll have enough to stay in a hotel for however long I’m there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dent told him. “You can stay with me. Our company provides apartments for
the employees.”

Star’s brows furrowed. “You would do that? Why are you being so helpful? It’s nice, but scary at the
same time.”

Dent guffawed, and a few of the cafe patrons looked at them. “I promise no harm will come to you,”
he said between chuckles. “I tell you what. Send all my information to your friend Tanner if it makes
you more comfortable.”

“That would make me feel better. But why are you so kind to someone you just met, even though it
doesn’t feel that way? I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“You just said we were like brothers, right?” Dent asked, and Star nodded. “Then know that I would
never leave my brother stranded.”

“Okay,” Star said after a few moments of thought.

“Good.” Dent winked. “Now, where to, boss?”

Star chuckled, getting the other man’s meaning. Dent was a cool guy, and now it was up to Star to
ensure his friend’s past did not repeat itself.
Chapter Three
 STAR

S tar sank into the luxury private plane's soft, cream-colored leather captain’s chair, waiting for
the plane to take off. Even in his past life, Star had never been on a private jet; he’d always traveled
mostly by train or on commercial flights. Star was already impressed with the interior. It was large
enough to have a conference table with swivel chairs. Next to the windows on each side of the plane
were two sets of chairs with a table that could be lowered if needed. He took it all in, then looked at
the back, wondering what the rest of the plan looked like but he had to wait for Dent to give him a
tour.

Star’s gaze was drawn to the entrance of the plane where Dent and the pilot, Thomas Jinn, had been
talking, since they were friends. Captain Jinn was hot as hell and looked dashing in his pilot's
uniform. He was tall with alluring, amethyst eyes, an amiable smile, and a nice, comforting voice.
After leaving the cafe, Star and Dent grabbed a quick bite before heading to Star’s apartment so he
could pack a bag for a couple of days. Star had called Tanner, who was cool with the change of plans,
and told him he had a place for him to stay and not to worry about anything while he was visiting
Valleywood. While Star packed his stuff at his apartment, Dent made a few phone calls, and then they
headed to the airport.

Star still couldn’t believe his luck, and not for the first time that day did he wonder if things would
have worked out as well in his previous life. But he wasn’t as optimistic as things were shaping out
to be; he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Star was grateful that Thornton hadn’t been at
the apartment or showed up while they were there. Although they didn’t live together, Thornton had a
key to his place. Thinking back on his past mistakes, Star was a right idiot. The red flags that he and
Thorton were moving too fast were staring him in the face but he'd ignored them.

Star could only chalk it up to his desperate need for someone to care for and love him. Thornton gave
off the daddy vibes he was looking for in a partner and he easily gave him his trust. They had only
known each other for two months before he gave Thornton the key to his apartment. What lulled Star
into a false sense of security was that Thornton had waited to have sex until after he had signed a
contract with Equi-Noxx Entertainment. Before that, they’d only kissed, with Star sucking Thornton
off, and in return, Star only got hand jobs.

The first time they had sex, Thornton held him all night, but when he woke up, the man was gone, and
he hadn’t seen or heard from him for three weeks, when he showed up with a few jobs lined up for
Star. But the sad thing was their relationship continued that way until Thornton started putting other
demands on him, all because he knew how badly Star wanted to be an actor. In the beginning, Star
was completely against sleeping with those producers and directors just to get a small part, but
Thornton was so persuasive, painting a picture of the fame it could bring. Star was so nervous the
first time, he was practically drunk when he slept with that producer. Star had to be drunk or high for
each person he slept with to get through the moment; that included Thornton, who seemed to prefer
Star to be weak and unable to fight against anything he wanted.

Things got so bad that Star had difficulty looking at himself in the mirror. It would be nice to say that
after giving up his ass, he got a return on his investments, but that wasn’t so. Those parts and more
went to Thornton’s other talent. Sundi Noxx

Things got so bad that Star had difficulty looking at himself in the mirror. It would be nice to say that
after giving up his ass, he got a return on his investments, but that wasn’t so. Those parts and more
went to Thornton’s other talent: Sundi Noxx.

Star closed his eyes, not wanting to think about her. She, along with Thornton, was now in his past,
and he prayed they would never meet again. Man, I was a fucking fool for giving my life away to a
man who didn’t even love me. Well, I’m not making that mistake again—no relationship until I
accomplish my goal.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s actually a couple of different expressions.” Dent chuckled. “One minute, I thought someone
kicked your puppy and stole your best friend, and the next breath it seems like you want to strangle
someone.”

“Really?” Star said in shock.

“Yeah, look,” he said, tilting his chin toward the window.

Star did as Dent suggested and peered at himself in the plane window, noticing that his brows were
furrowed, his lips pursed in a deep scowl, and his eyes were glaring intensely.

Shit, Dent’s right. I look so angry. Have I been looking like this all day?

Star tried to smooth out his features, but it wasn’t working because he still looked upset. It also made
him realize that since his awakening, or blast to the past, it was the first time he’d looked at himself.
When he was at his apartment, he didn’t spare a glance in the mirror; his only focus was packing and
getting the hell out of dodge. But now that he had a chance, he couldn’t help but move closer to the
reflection and examine his features.

He had gotten the best of his looks from his parents. Star had inherited the same fair complexion and
scarlet-red hair with orange highlights of his father, Gammon. Star loved the texture of his hair
because it was so much like his mom’s, who was Black and Asian-born. Reaching up, he ran his
fingers through his curls, feeling down. Due to his busy schedule, he wore it short but would like to
grow it out some because he missed his deep wavy hair. Star peered at his autumn-orange bedroom
eyes that were not easy to hide, even with the colored contacts that most people thought he wore.

The last time Star saw his appearance, there was a noticeable scar above his left eye that he had
gotten due to a beatdown the one time Dent wasn’t around to protect him. But now, the scar was
missing. Because of his light skin tone, makeup artists often complained about the difficulty in hiding
the smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Star adored his freckles and thought
they were one of his best features. As he continued to stare at himself in the window, Star’s brows
knitted together so tightly they became one as he noticed something was off.

My freckles, where are they?

Star pushed his face closer to the window, as if he was trying to become one with it. He was so deep
into studying his face that he jumped in fright when Dent spoke to him.

“Are you trying to blend in with the window or something? I’m not sure if there’s enough magic in the
world to make it happen.” Dent chuckled softly. “We’re about to take off; sit back.”

Nodding, Star obediently sat back and buckled his seat belt, but his mind was working overtime. He
glanced at the window, wondering where his freckles went. He knew they could be removed, but Star
would never do that because they were a part of him. Tears welled in his eyes, and he wiped them
away before they could fall.

Calm down, Star. Don’t cry or overreact. There must be a logical explanation for why my freckles
disappeared. Star looked around and noticed the lights had dimmed a bit, so that could explain why
he couldn’t see his beloved freckles. I should go to the bathroom and take a better look.

“Are you all right?” Dent asked.

Star smiled, nodding his head. “I’m just thinking about my day.”

“You’ve had a rough one.”

“Yeah,” he said.

“It will get better. Everything happens for a reason. Just hang in there.” Dent’s words touched his
heart, but he was too sad to let it sink in. His life had changed overnight, and he was unsure what his
future would be.

“I hope so.” He looked up at his friend. Star gasped when he felt the subtle movements of the plane
backing away from its parking spot. “Shit, I just remembered something.”

“What?”

“I hate flying.” Star worried his bottom lip, staring out the window. In the past, when he had to fly to
another state, he would need to drink something strong to calm him down. Vee hated when he drank,
so he kept the other shit he did for and with Thornton away from her.

“Give me your hand.” Dent moved the documents he was reading to the side and then put his hand on
the table. Star didn’t think and placed his hand into Dent’s.

“I’m good once we reach altitude but not so great when it comes to take-offs and landings,” he
explained.

“It’s all good,” Dent said, rubbing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. “We all have things
that freak us out.”

“What about you? Anything freak you out?”

“Oh, damn, there are so many, but the main one is clowns.” He shivered, making Star chuckle softly.
“They might make people laugh, but me, not so much.”

They continued talking and laughing, and it calmed Star down so much he hadn’t realized they’d
reached altitude until the attendant, Jerrica, came over with a drink menu and waited for them to
order. Star ordered a glass of wine, and Dent went for imported beer. Star smiled to himself when he
noticed that Dent’s eyes kept following Jerrica as she walked away. Jerrica was gorgeous, with light
shoulder-length hair and an hourglass figure. Her brown eyes were captivating, as well as her smile.

“She’s beautiful,” Star stated to Dent. “You should ask her out.”

Dent chuckled and slouched in his seat. “I think her mate would kick my ass if I did that. Besides, I’m
in no position to look for a mate right now.”

Star furrowed his brows. “Mate?”

“You know, forever one, lover, husband, wife, or whatever anyone wants to call it these days.”
“Oh,” Star murmured. Why didn’t he just say so? Why use the word mate? As far as Star knew, only
animals mated. And some people referred to a friend as their good mate. Thinking back to their time
together, Star didn’t recall Dent talking so weirdly before.

“I’m still trying to figure out my next move,” Dent added. “But at the same time, I can’t interrupt the
Fates. And whoever they send my way, I will accept them. I’m fluid with who I love.”

“Why are you so easy-going about things?” Star couldn’t understand Dent’s way of thinking. He was
the same way when they met in prison. Not with who he loved but with the fact that nothing seemed to
bother him, even when he was serving a life sentence.

“Why fight the inevitable?” Dent shrugged and looked out the window. “We can’t predict the future.
We simply need to hold on for the ride.”

But what if we can change it? Star wanted to ask. Just as Star was about to add more to the
conversation, Jerrica returned with their drinks, and Star took a moment to glance at her slender and
perfectly manicured fingers, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He shrugged and
thought nothing of it. Maybe she was one of those women he didn’t wear hers, or it could be they
were in a common-law marriage. Either way, he believed Dent when he said she was married. A few
minutes after dropping off their drinks, she returned with a cold platter of charcuterie, leaving him
and Dent to talk. Conversation flowed easily between the two of them, and by the time they landed,
Star had completely forgotten he was on a plane or his earlier freakout.

When they got off the plane, Star shivered as a wave of dizziness hit him, and his stomach rolled over
as if he was about to vomit. His skin prickled with heat and then quickly cooled, as if it had been his
imagination. He was unsure what was happening; besides the charcuterie, they had a healthy and
delicious meal. And because of past mistakes, Star had stuck to one glass of wine and drank water the
rest of the way.

C…could I have been drugged? No, he thought, shaking his head. Dent wouldn’t do that to me. He
bit the inside of his cheek, shaking the thought that came to him. But that was the Dent of another
lifetime. What if he’s not the same person you once trusted? At his crazy jumbled thoughts, Star
stumbled back, falling on the steps.

Dent came over to help him, but the second he went to touch him, Star subconsciously retreated into a
corner.

“Are you okay?” Dent asked, taking a step back.

“I…” he began but couldn’t give a coherent answer. He looked up at Dent, who was worriedly gazing
down at him.
It brought back memories of when he had gotten beaten up, and Dent felt guilty for not being by his
side. Oddly, that calmed him. Dent would never hurt him, whether it was the past or the present. With
that in mind, Star took in a gulp of air and then stood, brushing off his clothes.

“I tripped and got a bit freaked out. I’m sorry about that.”

“What’s there to apologize for?” Dent smiled but didn’t step close or try to touch him. “We all have a
clumsy side. Come on, the car is waiting.”

He walked ahead, not looking back to see if Star was following him, but he hurried after Dent,
catching up to the man. Since they were on a private plane, they didn’t have to worry about their bags
and headed straight for the exit.

Dent walked over to a black SUV when they left the airport, and two men got out. One from the
driver's side and the other from the passenger’s. They were muscular but of different heights. Dent
smiled when he saw them.

“What are you guys doing here?” Dent questioned.

“Third boss told us to pick you up,” answered the one who got out of the passenger side.

Third boss! Is he a part of the mafia? Hearing that, Star’s mind started thinking about the wrong
things once again. But before it could go into overdrive, the driver spoke up.

“Plus, once Tanner heard you were coming with his friend…”

Star didn’t let him finish and interjected himself into the conversation. “Tanner…you know him?”

Both men smiled, as if saying Tanner’s name was a pleasant breeze.

“You must be Star,” the driver said. “I’m Reinhold, and this is Shepard.” He pointed to himself and
the other guy. “We’re Tanner’s mates.”

“Mates,” Star said in shock. Star looked at both men; they were handsome, and one was an inch
shorter than the other.

“Yeah, it’s new,” Shepard, who was the shorter of the two, said.

“You two bears finally pinned him down,” Dent laughed.

“It took us a while. He had to get over his crush on Azazel first,” Reinhold grumbled.

“Ah, don’t sweat it, babe, he’s ours now, and think about our cub,” Shepard added, grinning from ear
to ear.
Dent gasped. “You don’t mean—”

“Yup,” the two men said together, and Dent pulled them into a hug, congratulating them both on what
Star wasn’t sure about. He stood beside the three men, completely and utterly confused by the whole
conversation, but he didn’t say anything.

Wait, didn’t Dent say mate was a lover and husband? Does that mean Tanner has two husbands?
What in the world is going on? Isn’t polygamy illegal?

“I can’t believe you two rascals are going to be fathers,” Dent said, pulling back from their embrace.

“He’s not showing yet,” Shepard said. “But his cravings have started.”

“You should have seen how shocked he was when he found out he was an omega and could have
babies,” Reinhold chimed in. “That was a rough couple of days.”

“But everything worked out for the best.” Dent clapped both men on the shoulders. “Tanner is
pregnant.” He shook his head. “You two work fast.”

Star’s eyes widened at those words, and he could have sworn he heard wrong. He grabbed Dent by
his jacket sleeve to get his attention. “Wha…what did you just say?”

“I said I can’t believe Tanner’s pregnant,” he responded happily.

“Oh, okay,” Star muttered just as his body swayed backward, and the sky seemed farther than it had
been before as his world went dark.

S TAR SAT UP ABRUPTLY. HE GRABBED HIS HEAD , WINCING BECAUSE HE HAD A TERRIBLE HEADACHE.

Son of a bitch, how much did I drink last night? He rubbed his stomach, feeling extremely
nauseated, and he couldn’t tell if it was from hunger or a hangover. What did I have to do for
Thornton this time? What he was experiencing wasn’t new; it was usually par for the course after he
was forced to do something he didn’t want to. When will all this fuckery end?

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Star snapped his eyes open and stared at the person standing next to him. What the fuck? Why is
Tanner here? Star stared at his friend he hadn’t seen since high school, and the guy was just as cute as
ever, wearing pajamas with his favorite anime character on it. Star peered at his friend, wondering
how they were in the same place.
“Tanner, where are we?” Star asked in shock.

“My apartment,” Tanner responded, and Star quickly scanned around, taking in his surroundings.
Eggshell-painted walls and a moderately decorated room in cream and beige. The room was small,
with a four-seat dining room table and chairs sitting on one side, and beside the table was an open
kitchen. It was quaint and so much like Tanner, and some recollection came to Star on the events of
his day. The last thing he remembered was standing next to Dent while he spoke to his two friends.

“How did I get here?” he asked his friend.

“Dent and my guys brought you here.” Tanner bit down on an apple, chewing on it as he sat beside
Star on the couch. “Are you okay? You kind of freaked everyone out when you passed out.”

Star closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead, trying to figure out why he passed out, but nothing came to
mind. Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to him; after all, he’d had a long and rather confusing
day. Yet, he felt that there was something he needed to remember, but nothing important was coming to
him.

Forget it. If it’s essential to my life, it will come back to me.

Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked at Tanner. “Where’s Dent?”

“He and Shepard and Reinhold went to meet with their boss.”

“Oh,” Star said, furrowing his brows. A nagging feeling was in the back of his mind, hearing those
two names, but he couldn’t put it together.

“When you told me you were coming with Dent, I wanted to ask how you met him. What’s your
relationship with him?” Tanner asked.

Star chuckled. “I feel like I’m being interrogated.”

“Just answer the question.” Tanner lightly shoved his head, giggling. “I guess you’ve changed since
high school. I remember you were skittish when it came to meeting people.”

“I was not. I just didn’t care for some of the people you and Jacob liked to bring around.” Star rested
his head on the back of the couch, looking at his friend. “To answer your question, Dent helped me out
of a situation today.” He nervously chewed on his bottom lip, not sure how much to tell Tanner. He
knew for sure that he couldn’t tell his friend that he’d died and returned to the past.

Who the fuck would believe shit like that?

Star was still trying to wrap his mind around the whole thing, so he was sure his friend would think
he had lost all of his colorful marbles. “My life in Los Angeles hasn’t been going as great as I’d like.”
Another random document with
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fates they meet with, and the fearful forms they see. My own blithe
gude-man had seen sights that made him grave enough at times,
though he aye tried to laugh them away.
“Aweel, between that very rock aneath us and the coming tide, I
saw, or thought I saw (for the tale is so dream-like that the whole
might pass for a vision of the night) the form of a man. His plaid was
gray; his face was gray; and his hair, which hung low down till it
nearly came to the middle of his back, was as white as the white sea-
foam. He began to houk and dig under the bank; and God be near
me! thought I, this maun be the unblessed spirit of auld Adam
Gowdgowpin, the miser, who is doomed to dig for shipwrecked
treasure, and count how many millions are hidden for ever from
man’s enjoyment. The form found something, which in shape and
hue seemed a left-foot slipper of brass; so down to the tide he
marched, and placing it on the water, whirled it thrice round; and the
infernal slipper dilated at every turn, till it became a bonnie barge
with its sails bent, and on board leaped the form, and scudded swiftly
away. He came to one of the haunted ships; and striking it with his
oar, a fair ship, with mast and canvas, and mariners, started up: he
touched the other haunted ship, and produced the like
transformation; and away the three spectre ships bounded, leaving a
track of fire behind them on the billows, which was long
unextinguished.
“Now wasna that a bonnie and a fearful sight to see beneath the
light of the Hallowmas moon? But the tale is far frae finished; for
mariners say that once a year, on a certain night, if ye stand on the
Borranpoint, ye will see the infernal shallops coming snoring
through the Solway; ye will hear the same laugh, and song, and
mirth, and minstrelsy, which our ancestors heard; see them bound
over the sandbanks and sunken rocks like sea-gulls, cast their anchor
in Blawhooly Bay, while the shadowy figures lower down the boat,
and augment their numbers with the four unhappy mortals to whose
memory a stone stands in the kirkyard, with a sinking ship and a
shoreless sea cut upon it. Then the spectre-ships vanish, and the
drowning shriek of mortals and the rejoicing laugh of fiends are
heard, and the old hulls are left as a memorial that the old spiritual
kingdom has not departed from the earth. But I maun away and trim
my little cottage fire, and make it burn and blaze up bonnie, to warm
the crickets, and my cauld and crazy bones, that maun soon be laid
aneath the green sod in the eerie kirkyard.”
And away the old dame tottered to her cottage, secured the door
on the inside, and soon the hearth-flame was seen to glimmer and
gleam through the key-hole and the window.
“I’ll tell ye what,” said the old mariner, in a subdued tone, and with
a shrewd and suspicious glance of his eye after the old sibyl, “it’s a
word that may not very well be uttered, but there are many mistakes
made in evening stories if old Moll Moray there, where she lives,
knows not mickle more than she is willing to tell of the Haunted
Ships, and their unhallowed mariners. She lives cannily and quietly;
no one knows how she is fed or supported; but her dress is aye
whole, her cottage ever smokes, and her table lacks neither of wine,
white and red, nor of fowl and fish, and white bread and brown. It
was a dear scoff to Jock Matheson, when he called old Moll the
uncannie carline of Blawhooly: his boat ran round and round in the
centre of the Solway—everybody said it was enchanted—and down it
went head foremost; and hadna Jock been a swimmer equal to a
sheldrake, he would have fed the fish; but I warrant it sobered the
lad’s speech, and he never reckoned himself safe till he made auld
Moll the present of a new kirtle and a stone of cheese.”
“O father,” said his granddaughter Barbara, “ye surely wrong poor
old Mary Moray: what use could it be to an old woman like her, who
has no wrongs to redress, no malice to work out against mankind,
and nothing to seek of enjoyment save a cannie hour and a quiet
grave—what use could the fellowship of the fiends, and the
communion of evil spirits, be to her? I know Jenny Primrose puts
rowan-tree above the doorhead when she sees old Mary coming; I
know the goodwife of Kittlenacket wears rowan-berry leaves in the
head-band of her blue kirtle, and all for the sake of averting the
unsonsie glance of Mary’s right ee; and I know that the auld laird of
Burntroutwater drives his seven cows to their pasture with a wand of
witchtree, to keep Mary from milking them. But what has all that to
do with haunted shallops, visionary mariners, and bottomless boats?
I have heard myself as pleasant a tale about the Haunted Ships and
their unworldly crews as any one would wish to hear in a winter
evening. It was told me by young Benjie Macharg, one summer night,
sitting on Arbiglandbank; the lad intended a sort of lovemeeting, but
all that he could talk of was about smearing sheep and shearing
sheep, and of the wife which the Norway elves of the Haunted Ships
made for his uncle Sandie Macharg. And I shall tell ye the tale as the
honest lad told it to me.
“Alexander Macharg, besides being the laird of three acres of peat-
moss, two kail gardens, and the owner of seven good milch cows, a
pair of horses, and six pet sheep, was the husband of one of the
handsomest women in seven parishes. Many a lad sighed the day he
was brided; and a Nithsdale laird and two Annandale moorland
farmers drank themselves to their last linen, as well as their last
shilling, through sorrow for her loss. But married was the dame; and
home she was carried, to bear rule over her home and her husband,
as an honest woman should. Now ye maun ken that though flesh-
and-blood lovers of Alexander’s bonnie wife all ceased to love and to
sue her after she became another’s, there were certain admirers who
did not consider their claim at all abated, or their hopes lessened, by
the kirk’s famous obstacle of matrimony.
“Ye have heard how the devout minister of Tinwald had a fair son
carried away, and bedded against his liking to an unchristened bride,
whom the elves and the fairies provided: ye have heard how the
bonnie bride of the drunken laird of Soukitup was stolen by the
fairies out at the back window of the bridal chamber the time the
bridegroom was groping his way to the chamber door; and ye have
heard—but why need I multiply cases? Such things in the ancient
days were as common as candlelight. So ye’ll no hinder certain
water-elves and sea-fairies, who sometimes keep festival and
summer mirth in these old haunted hulks, from falling in love with
the weel-faured wife of Laird Macharg; and to their plots and
contrivances they went, how they might accomplish to sunder man
and wife; and sundering such a man and such a wife was like
sundering the green leaf from the summer, or the fragrance from the
flower.
“So it fell on a time that Laird Macharg took his halve-net on his
back, and his steel spear in his hand, and down to Blawhooly Bay
gaed he, and into the water he went right between the two haunted
hulks, and placing his net awaited the coming of the tide. The night,
ye maun ken, was mirk, and the wind lown, and the singing of the
increasing waters among the shells and the pebbles was heard for
sundry miles. All at once lights began to glance and twinkle on board
the two Haunted Ships from every hole and seam, and presently the
sound as of a hatchet employed in squaring timber echoed far and
wide. But if the toil of these unearthly workmen amazed the laird,
how much more was his amazement increased when a sharp shrill
voice called out, ‘Ho! brother, what are you doing now?’ A voice still
shriller responded from the other haunted ship, ‘I’m making a wife to
Sandie Macharg.’ And a loud quavering laugh running from ship to
ship, and from bank to bank, told the joy they expected from their
labour.
“Now the laird, besides being a devout and a God-fearing man, was
shrewd and bold; and in plot and contrivance, and skill in conducting
his designs, was fairly an overmatch for any dozen land elves. But the
water elves are far more subtle; besides, their haunts and their
dwellings being in the great deep, pursuit and detection are hopeless,
if they succeed in carrying their prey to the waves. But ye shall hear.
“Home flew the laird, collected his family around the hearth, spoke
of the signs and the sins of the times, and talked of mortification and
prayer for averting calamity; and finally, taking from the shelf his
father’s Bible, brass clasps, black print, and covered with calf-skin,
he proceeded, without let or stint, to perform domestic worship. I
should have told ye that he bolted and locked the door, shut up all
inlet to the house, threw salt into the fire, and proceeded in every
way like a man skilful in guarding against the plots of fairies and
fiends. His wife looked on all this with wonder; but she saw
something in her husband’s looks that hindered her from intruding
either question or advice, and a wise woman was she.
“Near the mid-hour of the night the rush of a horse’s feet was
heard, and the sound of a rider leaping from his back, and a heavy
knock came to the door, accompanied by a voice, saying, ‘The
cummer’s drink’s hot, and the knave bairn is expected at Laird
Laurie’s to-night; sae mount, gudewife, and come.’
“‘Preserve me!’ said the wife of Sandie Macharg, ‘that’s news
indeed! who could have thought it? The laird has been heirless for
seventeen years. Now, Sandie, my man, fetch me my skirt and hood.’
“But he laid his arm round his wife’s neck and said—
 “‘If all the lairds in Galloway go heirless, over this door threshold
shall you not stir to-night; and I have said it, and I have sworn it:
seek not to know why and wherefore,—but, Lord, send us Thy
blessed moonlight!’
The wife looked for a moment in her husband’s eyes, and desisted
from further entreaty.
“‘But let us send a civil message to the gossips, Sandie; and hadna
ye better say I’m sair laid wi’ a sudden sickness?—though it’s sinful-
like to send the poor messenger a mile agate with a lie in his mouth
without a glass of brandy.’
“‘To such a messenger, and to those who sent him, no apology is
needed,’ said the austere laird, ‘so let him depart.’
“And the clatter of a horse’s hoofs was heard, and the muttered
imprecations of its rider on the churlish treatment he had
experienced.
“‘Now, Sandie, my lad,’ said his wife, laying an arm particularly
white and round about his neck as she spoke, ‘are you not a queer
man and a stern? I have been your wedded wife now these three
years, and, beside my dower, have brought you three as bonnie
bairns as ever smiled aneath a summer sun. O man! you a douce
man, and fitter to be an elder than even Willie Greer himsel,—I have
the minister’s ain word for’t,—to put on these hard-hearted looks,
and gang waving your arms that way, as if ye said, “I winna tak’ the
counsel o’ sic a hempie as you.” I’m your ain leal wife, and will and
maun hae an explanation.’
“To all this Sandy Macharg replied, ‘It is written, “Wives, obey
your husbands;” but we have been stayed in our devotion, so let us
pray;’ and down he knelt. His wife knelt also, for she was as devout
as bonnie; and beside them knelt their household, and all lights were
extinguished.”
“‘Now this beats a’,’ muttered his wife to herself; ‘however, I shall
be obedient for a time; but if I dinna ken what all this is for before
the morn by sunket-time, my tongue is nae langer a tongue, nor my
hands worth wearing.’
“The voice of her husband in prayer interrupted this mental
soliloquy; and ardently did he beseech to be preserved from the wiles
of the fiends and the snares of Satan; ‘from witches, ghosts, goblins,
elves, fairies, spunkies, and water-kelpies; from the spectre shallop
of Solway; from spirits visible and invisible; from the Haunted Ships
and their unearthly tenants; from maritime spirits that plotted
against godly men, and fell in love with their wives’——
“‘Nay, but His presence be near us!’ said his wife in a low tone of
dismay. ‘God guide my gudeman’s wits! I never heard such a prayer
from human lips before. But, Sandie, my man, for Lord’s sake, rise;
what fearful light is this?—barn, and byre, and stable, maun be in a
blaze; and Hawkie and Hurley, Doddie and Cherrie, and Damson-
plum, will be smoored with reek and scorched with flame.’
“And a flood of light, but not so gross as a common fire, which
ascended to heaven and filled all the court before the house, amply
justified the good wife’s suspicions. But to the terrors of fire, Sandie
was as immovable as he was to the imaginary groans of the barren
wife of Laird Laurie; and he held his wife, and threatened the weight
of his right hand—and it was a heavy one—to all who ventured
abroad, or even unbolted the door. The neighing and prancing of
horses, and the bellowing of cows, augmented the horrors of the
night; and to any one who only heard the din, it seemed that the
whole onstead was in a blaze, and horses and cattle perishing in the
flame. All wiles, common or extraordinary, were put in practice to
entice or force the honest farmer and his wife to open their door; and
when the like success attended every new stratagem, silence for a
little while ensued, and a long, loud, and shrilling laugh wound up
the dramatic efforts of the night.
“In the morning, when Laird Macharg went to the door, he found
standing against one of the pilasters a piece of black ship oak, rudely
fashioned into something like a human form, and which skilful
people declared would have been clothed with seeming flesh and
blood, and palmed upon him by elfin adroitness for his wife, had he
admitted his visitants. A synod of wise men and women sat upon the
woman of timber, and she was finally ordered to be devoured by fire,
and that in the open air. A fire was soon made, and into it the elfin
sculpture was tossed from the prongs of two pairs of pitchforks. The
blaze that rose was awful to behold; and hissings, and burstings, and
loud cracklings, and strange noises, were heard in the midst of the
flame; and when the whole sank into ashes, a drinking cup of some
precious metal was found; and this cup, fashioned no doubt by elfin
skill, but rendered harmless by the purification with fire, the sons
and daughters of Sandie Macharg and his wife drink out of to this
day.”
 A TALE OF THE MARTYRS.

By James Hogg, the “Ettrick Shepherd.”

Red Tam Harkness came into the farm-house of Garrick, in the

parish of Closeburn, one day, and began to look about for some place
to hide in, when the gudewife, whose name was Jane Kilpatrick, said
to him in great alarm, “What’s the matter, what’s the matter, Tam
Harkness!”
“Hide me, or else I’m a dead man: that’s the present matter,
gudewife,” said he. “But yet, when I have time—if ever I hae mair
time—I have heavy news for you. For Christ’s sake, hide me, Jane, for
the killers are hard at hand.”
Jane Kilpatrick sprung to her feet, but she was quite benumbed
and powerless. She ran to one press and opened it, and then to
another; there was not room to stuff a clog into either of them. She
looked into a bed; there was no shelter there, and her knees began to
bend under her weight with terror. The voices of the troopers were
by this time heard fast approaching, and Harkness had no other shift
but in one moment to conceal himself behind the outer door, which
was open, but the place where he stood was quite dark. He heard one
of them say to another, “I fear the scoundrel is not here after all.
Guard all the outhouses.”
On that three or four of the troop rushed by him, and began to
search the house and examine the inmates. Harkness that moment
slid out without being observed, and tried to escape up a narrow glen
called Kinrivah, immediately behind the house, but unluckily two
troopers, who had been in another chase, there met him in the face.
When he perceived them, he turned and ran to the eastward; on
which they both fired, which raised the alarm, and instantly the
whole pack were after him. It was afterwards conjectured that one of
the shots had wounded him, for though he, with others, had been
nearly surrounded that morning, and twice waylaid, he had quite
outrun the soldiers; but now it was observed that some of them
began to gain ground on him, and they still continued firing, till at
length he fell into a kind of slough east from the farm-house of
Locherben, where they came up to him, and ran him through with
their bayonets. The spot is called Red Tam’s Gutter to this day.
Jane Kilpatrick was one of the first who went to his mangled
corpse—a woful sight, lying in the slough, and sore did she lament
the loss of that poor and honest man. But there was more: she came
to his corpse by a sort of yearning impatience to learn what was the
woful news he had to communicate to her. But, alas! the intelligence
was lost, and the man to whose bosom alone it had haply been
confided was no more; yet Jane could scarcely prevail on herself to
have any fears for her own husband, for she knew him to be in
perfectly safe hiding in Glen Govar; still Tam’s last words hung heavy
on her mind. They were both suspected to have been at the harmless
rising at Enterkin for the relief of a favourite minister, which was
effected; and that was the extent of their crime. And though it was
only suspicion, four men were shot on the hills that morning without
trial or examination, and their bodies forbidden Christian burial.
One of these four was John Weir of Garrick, the husband of Jane
Kilpatrick, a man of great worth and honour, and universally
respected. He had left his hiding-place in order to carry some
intelligence to his friends, and to pray with them, but was entrapped
among them and slain. Still there was no intelligence brought to his
family, save the single expression that fell from the lips of Thomas
Harkness in a moment of distraction. Nevertheless, Jane could not
rest, but set out all the way to her sister’s house in Glen Govar, in
Crawford Muir, and arrived there at eleven o’clock on a Sabbath
evening. The family being at prayers when she went, and the house
dark, she stood still behind the hallan, and all the time was
convinced that the voice of the man that prayed was the voice of her
husband, John Weir. All the time that fervent prayer lasted the tears
of joy ran from her eyes, and her heart beat with gratitude to her
Maker as she drank into her soul every sentence of the petitions and
thanksgiving. Accordingly, when worship was ended, and the candle
lighted, she went forward with a light heart and joyful countenance.
Her sister embraced her, though manifestly embarrassed and
troubled at seeing her there at such a time. From her she flew to
embrace her husband, but he stood still like a statue, and did not
meet her embrace. She gazed at him—she grew pale, and, sitting
down, she covered her face with her apron. This man was one of her
husband’s brothers, likewise in hiding, whom she had never before
seen; but the tones of his voice, and even the devotional expressions
that he used, were so like her husband’s, that she mistook them for
his.
All was now grief and consternation, for John Weir had not been
seen or heard of there since Wednesday evening, when he had gone
to warn his friends of some impending danger; but they all tried to
comfort each other as well as they could, and, in particular, by saying
they were all in the Lord’s hand, and it behoved Him to do with them
as seemed to Him good, with many other expressions of piety and
submission. But the next morning, when the two sisters were about
to part, the one says to the other,—“Jane, I cannot help telling you a
strange confused dream that I had just afore ye wakened me. Ye ken
I put nae faith in dreams, and I dinna want you to regard it; but it is
as well for friends to tell them to ane anither, and then, if aught turn
out like it in the course o’ Providence, it may bring it to baith their
minds that their spirits had been conversing with God.”
“Na, na, Aggie, I want nane o’ your confused dreams. I hae other
things to think o’, and mony’s the time and oft ye hae deaved me wi’
them, an’ sometimes made me angry.”
“I never bade ye believe them, Jeanie, but I likit aye to tell them to
you; and this I daresay rose out o’ our conversation yestreen. But I
thought I was away (ye see I dinna ken where I was); and I was
feared and confused, thinking I had lost my way. And then I came to
an auld man, an’ he says to me, ‘Is it the road to heaven that you are
seeking, Aggie?’ An’ I said, ‘Ay,’ for I didna like to deny’t.
“‘Then I’ll tell you where you maun gang,’ said he; ‘ye maun gang
up by the head of yon dark, mossy cleuch, an’ you will find ane there
that will show you the road to heaven;’ and I said ‘Ay,’ for I didna like
to refuse, although it was an uncouth looking road, and ane that I
didna like to gang. But when I gaed to the cleuch-head, wha do I see
sitting there but your ain gudeman, John Weir, and I thought I never
saw him look sae weel; and when I gaed close up to him, there I saw
another John Weir, lying strippet to the sark, and a’ bedded in blood.
He was cauld dead, and his head turned to ae side, and when I saw
siccan a sight, I was terrified, an’ held wide aff him. But I gaed up to
the living John Weir, and said to him,—‘Gudeman, how’s this?’
“‘Dinna ye see how it is, sister Aggie?’ says he, ‘I’m just set to herd
this poor man that’s lying here.’
“‘Then I think ye’ll no hae a sair post, John,’ says I, ‘for he disna
look as if he wad rin far away.’ It was very unreverend o’ me to speak
that gate, sister, but these were the words that I thought I said; an’ as
it is but a dream, ye ken ye needna heed it.
“‘Alas, poor Aggie,’ says he, ‘ye are still in the gall o’ bitterness.
Look ower your right shoulder, an’ ye will see what I hae to do. An’
sae I looked ower my right shoulder, and there saw a hale drove o’
foxes and wulcats, an’ fumarts, an’ martins, an’ corby-craws, an’ a
hunder vile beasts, a’ staunin’ round wi’ glaring een, eager to be at
the corpse of the dead John Weir; an’ then I was terribly astoundit,
an’ I says to him, ‘Gudeman, how is this?’
“‘I am commissioned to keep these awa,’ said he. ‘Do you think
these een that are yet open to the light o’ heaven, and that tongue
that has to syllable the praises of a Redeemer far within yon sky,
should be left to become a prey o’ siccan vermin as these?’
“‘Will it make sae vera muckle difference, John Weir,’ said I,
‘whether the carcass is eaten up by these or by the worms?’
“‘Ah, Aggie, Aggie! worms are worms; but ye little wot what these
are,’ says he. ‘But John Weir has warred wi’ them a’ his life, an’ that
to some purpose, and they maunna get the advantage o’ him now.’
“‘But which is the right John Weir?’ said I; ‘for here is ane lying
stiff and lappered in his blood, and another in health and strength
and sound mind.’
“‘I am the right John Weir,’ says he. ‘Did you ever think the good
man o’ Garrick could die! Na, na, Aggie; Clavers could only kill the
body, an’ that’s but the poorest part o’ the man. But where are you
gaun this wild gate?’
“‘I was directed this way on my road to heaven,’ said I.
“‘Ay, an’ ye were directed right, then,’ says he; ‘for this is the direct
path to heaven, and there is no other.’
 “‘That is very extraordinary,’ says I. ‘And, pray, what is the name of
this place, that I may direct my sister Jane, your wife, and all my
friends by the same way.’
“‘This is Faith’s Hope,’ says he.
At the mention of this place, Jane Kilpatrick of Garrick rose slowly
up to her feet, and held up both her hands. “Hold, hold, sister Aggie,”
cried she, “you have told enough. Was it in the head of Faith’s Hope
that you saw this vision of my dead husband?”
“Yes; but at the same time I saw your husband alive.”
“Then I fear your dream has a double meaning,” she answered;
“for though it appears like a religious allegory, you do not know that
there really is such a place, and that not very far from our house. I
have often laughed at your dreams, sister, but this one hurries me
from you to-day with a heavy and trembling heart.”
Jane left Glen Govar by the break of day, and took her way through
the wild ranges of Crawford Muir, straight for the head of Faith’s
Hope. She had some bread in her lap, and a little Bible that she
always carried with her; and without one to assist or comfort her, she
went in search of her lost husband. Before she reached the head of
that wild glen, the day was far spent, and the sun wearing down. The
valley of Nith lay spread far below her in all its beauty, but around
her there was nothing but darkness, dread, and desolation. The mist
hovered on the hills, and on the skirts of the mist the ravens sailed
about in circles, croaking furiously, which had a most ominous effect
on the heart of poor Jane. As she advanced further up, she perceived
a fox and an eagle sitting over against each other, watching
something which yet they seemed terrified to approach; and right
between them, in a little green hollow, surrounded by black haggs,
she found the corpse of her husband in the same manner as
described by her sister. He was stripped of his coat and vest, which it
was thought he had thrown from him when flying from the soldiers,
to enable him to effect his escape. He was shot through the heart
with two bullets, but nothing relating to his death was ever known,
whether he died praying, or was shot as he fled; but there was he
found lying, bathed in his blood, in the wilderness, and none of the
wild beasts of the forest had dared to touch his lifeless form.
 The bitterness of death was now past with poor Jane. Her staff and
shield was taken from her right hand, and laid low in death by the
violence of wicked men. True, she had still a home to go to, although
that home was robbed and spoiled; but she found that without him it
was no home, and that where his beloved form reposed, there was
the home of her rest. She washed his wounds and the stains of blood
from his body, tied her napkin round his face, covered him with her
apron, and sat down and watched beside him all the livelong night,
praying to the Almighty, and singing hymns and spiritual songs
alternately. The next day she warned her friends and neighbours,
who went with her the following night, and buried him privately in
the northwest corner of the churchyard of Morton.
 THE TOWN DRUMMER.

By John Galt.

For many a year one Robin Boss had been town drummer; he was
a relic of some American war fencibles, and was, to say the truth of
him, a divor body, with no manner of conduct, saving a very earnest
endeavour to fill himself fou as often as he could get the means; the
consequence of which was, that his face was as plooky as a curran
bun, and his nose as red as a partan’s tae.
One afternoon there was need to send out a proclamation to
abolish a practice that was growing into a custom, in some of the by-
parts of the town, of keeping swine at large—ordering them to be
confined in proper styes, and other suitable places. As on all
occasions when the matter to be proclaimed was from the
magistrates, Thomas, on this, was attended by the town-officers in
their Sunday garbs, and with their halberts in their hands; but the
abominable and irreverent creature was so drunk, that he wam’let to
and fro over the drum, as if there had not been a bane in his body. He
was seemingly as soople and as senseless as a bolster. Still, as this
was no new thing with him, it might have passed; for James Hound,
the senior officer, was in the practice, when Robin was in that state,
of reading the proclamations himself. On this occasion, however,
James happened to be absent on some hue and cry quest, and
another of the officers (I forget which) was appointed to perform for
him. Robin, accustomed to James, no sooner heard the other man
begin to read than he began to curse and swear at him as an
incapable nincompoop—an impertinent term that he was much
addicted to. The grammar school was at the time skailing, and the
boys seeing the stramash, gathered round the officer, and yelling and
shouting, encouraged Robin more and more into rebellion, till at last
they worked up his corruption to such a pitch, that he took the drum
from about his neck, and made it fly like a bombshell at the officer’s
head.
The officers behaved very well, for they dragged Robin by the lug
and the horn to the tolbooth, and then came with their complaint to
me. Seeing how the authorities had been set at nought, and the
necessity there was of making an example, I forthwith ordered Robin
to be cashiered from the service of the town; and as so important a
concern as a proclamation ought not to be delayed, I likewise, upon
the spot, ordered the officers to take a lad that had been also a
drummer in a marching regiment, and go with him to make the
proclamation.
Nothing could be done in a more earnest and zealous public spirit
than this was done by me. But habit had begot in the town a
partiality for the drunken ne’er-do-well, Robin; and this just act of
mine was immediately condemned as a daring stretch of arbitrary
power; and the consequence was, that when the council met next
day, some sharp words flew among us, as to my usurping an undue
authority; and the thanks I got for my pains was the mortification to
see the worthless body restored to full power and dignity, with no
other reward than an admonition to behave better for the future.
Now, I leave it to the unbiassed judgment of posterity to determine if
any public man could be more ungraciously treated by his colleagues
than I was on this occasion. But, verily, the council had their reward.
The divor Robin Boss being, as I have recorded, reinstated in
office, soon began to play his old tricks. In the course of the week
after the Michaelmas term at which my second provostry ended, he
was so insupportably drunk that he fell head foremost into his drum,
which cost the town five-and-twenty shillings for a new one—an
accident that was not without some satisfaction to me; and I trow I
was not sparing in my derisive commendations on the worth of such
a public officer. Nevertheless, he was still kept on, some befriending
him for compassion, and others as it were to spite me.
But Robin’s good behaviour did not end with breaking the drum,
and costing a new one. In the course of the winter it was his custom
to beat, “Go to bed, Tom,” about ten o’clock at night, and the reveille
at five in the morning. In one of his drunken fits he made a mistake,
and instead of going his rounds as usual at ten o’clock, he had fallen
asleep in a change-house, and waking about the midnight hour in the
terror of some whisky dream, he seized his drum, and running into
the streets, began to strike the fire-beat in the most awful manner.
It was a fine clear frosty moonlight, and the hollow sound of the
drum resounded through the silent streets like thunder. In a moment
everybody was afoot, and the cry of “Whaur is’t? whaur’s the fire?”
was heard echoing from all sides. Robin, quite unconscious that he
alone was the cause of the alarm, still went along beating the
dreadful summons. I heard the noise and rose; but while I was
drawing on my stockings in the chair at the bed-head, and telling
Mrs Pawkie to compose herself, for our houses were all insured, I
suddenly recollected that Robin had the night before neglected to go
his rounds at ten o’clock as usual, and the thought came into my
head that the alarm might be one of his inebriated mistakes; so,
instead of dressing myself any further, I went to the window, and
looked out through the glass, without opening it, for, being in my
night-clothes, I was afraid of taking cold.
The street was as throng as on a market day, and every face in the
moonlight was pale with fear. Men and lads were running with their
coats, and carrying their breeches in their hands; wives and maidens
were all asking questions at one another, and even lasses were fleeing
to and fro, like waternymphs with urns, having stoups and pails in
their hands. There was swearing and tearing of men, hoarse with the
rage of impatience, at the tolbooth, getting out the fire-engine from
its stance under the stair; and loud and terrible afar off, and over all,
came the peal of alarm from drunken Robin’s drum.
I could scarcely keep my composity when I beheld and heard all
this, for I was soon thoroughly persuaded of the fact. At last I saw
Deacon Girdwood, the chief advocate and champion of Robin,
passing down the causeway like a demented man, with a red
nightcap, and his big-coat on; for some had cried that the fire was in
his yard.
“Deacon,” cried I, opening the window, forgetting, in the jocularity
of the moment, the risk I ran from being so naked; “whaur away sae
fast, deacon?”
The deacon stopped and said, “Is’t out? is’t out?”
 “Gang your ways home,” quo’ I, very coolly, “for I hae a notion that
a’ this hobleshow’s but the fume of a gill in your friend Robin’s
head.”
“It’s no possible!” exclaimed the deacon.
“Possible here or possible there, Mr Girdwood,” quo’ I, “it’s ower
cauld for me to stand talking wi’ you here; we’ll learn the rights o’t in
the morning, so good night;” and with that I pulled down the
window. But scarcely had I done so, when a shout of laughter came
gathering up the street, and soon after poor drunken Robin was
brought along by the cuff of the neck, between two of the town-
officers, one of them carrying his drum. The next day he was put out
of office for ever, and folk recollecting in what manner I had acted
towards him before, the outcry about my arbitrary power was
forgotten in the blame that was heaped upon those who had
espoused Robin’s cause against me.
 THE AWFUL NIGHT.

By D. M. Moir (Delta).
Ha!—’twas but a dream;
But then so terrible, it shakes my soul!
Cold drops of sweat hang on my trembling flesh;
My blood grows chilly, and I freeze with horror.
—Richard the Third.

The Fire-King one day rather amorous felt;

He mounted his hot copper filly;
His breeches and boots were of tin, and the belt
Was made of cast-iron, for fear it should melt
With the heat of the copper colt’s belly.
Oh! then there was glitter and fire in each eye,
For two living coals were the symbols;
His teeth were calcined, and his tongue was so dry,
It rattled against them as though you should try
To play the piano on thimbles.
—Rejected Addresses.

In the course of a fortnight from the time I parted with Maister

Glen, the Lauder carrier, limping Jamie, brought his callant to our
shop door in his hand. He was a tall, slender laddie, some fourteen
years old, and sore grown away from his clothes. There was
something genty and delicate like about him, having a pale, sharp
face, blue eyes, a nose like a hawk’s, and long yellow hair hanging
about his haffets, as if barbers were unco scarce cattle among the
howes of the Lammermoor hills. Having a general experience of
human nature, I saw that I would have something to do towards
bringing him into a state of rational civilisation; but, considering his
opportunities, he had been well educated, and I liked his appearance
on the whole not that ill.
 To divert him a while, as I did not intend yoking him to work the
first day, I sent out Benjie with him, after giving him some
refreshment of bread and milk, to let him see the town and all the
uncos about it. I told Benjie first to take him to the auld kirk, which
is a wonderful building, steeple and aisle; and as for mason work, far
before anything to be seen or heard tell of in our day; syne to Lugton
brig, which is a grand affair, hanging over the river Esk and the flour-
mills like a rainbow; syne to the Tolbooth, which is a terror to evil-
doers, and from which the Lord preserve us all! syne to the Market,
where ye’ll see lamb, beef, mutton, and veal, hanging up on the
cleeks, in roasting and boiling pieces—spar-rib, jiggot, shoulder, and
heuk-bane, in the great prodigality of abundance; and syne down to
the Duke’s gate, by looking through the bonny white painted iron-
staunchels of which ye’ll see the deer running beneath the green
trees; and the palace itself, in the inside of which dwells one that
needs not be proud to call the king his cousin.
Brawly did I know, that it is a little after a laddie’s being loosed
from his mother’s apron-string, and hurried from home, till the mind
can make itself up to stay among fremit folk; or that the attention
can be roused to anything said or done, however simple in the
uptake. So, after Benjie brought Mungo home again, gey forfaughten
and wearied-out like, I bade the wife give him his four-hours, and
told him he might go to his bed as soon as he liked. Jalousing also, at
the same time, that creatures brought up in the country have strange
notions about them with respect to supernaturals—such as ghosts,
brownies, fairies, and bogles—to say nothing of witches, warlocks,
and evil-spirits, I made Benjie take off his clothes and lie down
beside him, as I said, to keep him warm; but, in plain matter of fact
(between friends), that the callant might sleep sounder, finding
himself in a strange bed, and not very sure as to how the house stood
as to the matter of a good name.
Knowing by my own common sense, and from long experience of
the ways of a wicked world, that there is nothing like industry, I went
to Mungo’s bedside in the morning, and wakened him betimes.
Indeed, I’m leein’ there; I need not call it wakening him, for Benjie
told me, when he was supping his parritch out of his luggie at
breakfast-time, that he never winked an eye all night, and that
sometimes he heard him greetin’ to himself in the dark—such and so
powerful is our love of home and the force of natural affection.
Howsoever, as I was saying, I took him ben the house with me down
to the workshop, where I had begun to cut out a pair of nankeen
trowsers for a young lad that was to be married the week after to a
servant-maid of Mr Wiggie’s,—a trig quean, that afterwards made
him a good wife, and the father of a numerous small family.
Speaking of nankeen, I would advise everyone, as a friend, to buy
the Indian, and not the British kind, the expense of outlay being ill
hained, even at sixpence a-yard—the latter not standing the washing,
but making a man’s legs, at a distance, look like a yellow yorline.
It behoved me now as a maister, bent on the improvement of his
prentice, to commence learning Mungo some few of the mysteries of
our trade; so having showed him the way to crook his hough
(example is better than precept, as James Batter observes), I taught
him the plan of holding the needle; and having fitted his middle-
finger with a bottomless thimble of our own sort, I set him to sewing
the cotton-lining into one leg, knowing that it was a part not very
particular, and not very likely to be seen; so that the matter was not
great, whether the stitching was exactly regular, or rather in the
zigzag line. As is customary with all new beginners, he made a
desperate awkward hand at it, and of which I would of course have
said nothing, but that he chanced to brog his thumb, and completely
soiled the whole piece of work with the stains of blood; which, for
one thing, could not wash out without being seen; and, for another,
was an unlucky omen to happen to a marriage garment.
Every man should be on his guard: this was a lesson I learned
when I was in the volunteers, at the time Buonaparte was expected to
land down at Dunbar. Luckily for me in this case, I had, by some
foolish mistake or another, made an allowance of a half yard over
and above what I found I could manage to shape on; so I boldly made
up my mind to cut out the piece altogether, it being in the back seam.
In that business I trust I showed the art of a good tradesman, having
managed to do it so neatly that it could not be noticed without the
narrowest inspection; and, having the advantage of a covering by the
coat flaps, had indeed no chance of being so, except on desperately
windy days.
In the week succeeding that on which this unlucky mischance
happened, an accident almost as bad befell, though not to me,