Tangled Webs by Lee Bross Read Free Book Online

spot where she liked to go was just past the dilapidated building,
through the overgrown path leading to the river’s edge. Though it was completely hidden from view, if she was spotted, she’d have nowhere to run but into the Thames. As she could not
swim, it would be a certain death for her. She had to be careful.
    Footsteps came faintly from the right, growing louder with each breath she took. A stack of empty crates gave her enough cover to hide behind, and she forced her lungs to quiet as the Watchman
made his rounds. In only moments, he turned and ambled away, taking the faint lamplight with him. Next to the river, the night was even darker. The working dock sat much farther upriver. There was
no need for anyone to be around at this hour except the occasional Watchman.
    The air grew damper as she moved closer to the river. In the stillness, she could hear faint whispers of the water lapping against the riverbanks. She exhaled softly and straightened. Though her
boots were heavy, she barely made a sound as she hurried around the corner of the long building.
    There had been a fire years before and the old building had been destroyed. The only thing left of the loading dock was a small bit of wood jutting out a few feet into the river. Weeds grew up
along the bank, effectively hiding it, and giving Arista the perfect place to sit and watch the lights reflect off the water. The cool air there didn’t reek of refuse and deadness so much
during the night. Only under the thick midday fog did the stench test the stomachs of even the most hardened of seamen.
    Arista pushed through the dense brush and carefully stepped over the spot with a missing plank. Water lapped gently against the wood supports, and the tension gripping her shoulders finally
melted away. The hopes and fears of a seventeen-year-old bubbled to the surface, finally free from the constraints she kept them under. Every minute of the day, her movements were calculated, as
either a gypsy beggar boy or the notorious Lady A. Neither role fit. She wore someone else’s skin all the time, except in rare moments like these, when she could escape both and just be
Arista.
    At the ball earlier, when she’d lost sight of herself for a moment in a stranger’s arms, a slight breeze had swept over her from an open courtyard door, beckoning to her. An
indescribable urge to run away had overtaken her. An urge to go someplace like where the man described; where she could be completely free. She’d never been so close to running.
    Bones owned her, and he made sure she never forgot it, but something stubborn inside Arista refused to give up. She wanted freedom. Wanted to make her own choices and have a future, away from
the streets of London. Maybe even find love.
    She yearned for something pure and beautiful in her life. When she looked at Nic, she could sometimes see a ray of hope. Oftentimes it was clouded beneath the darkness that had been lately
creeping into his eyes, but when she remembered everything he’d done for her, she tried to ignore it. She could see the faint hints of a future she hardly dared to imagine.
    Lately though, trying to find hope in these short moments of solitude had become harder. As if she were fading away from herself. How long would it take before she only existed as a beggar or
Lady A? What would happen when she forgot who she
really
was?
    Across the river, a light pulled away from the glittering reflections, and a barely discernible boat glided across the water. Oars dipped down and cut through the water, and Arista saw the
lamplit face of an old man staring earnestly down at the river.
    Goose bumps spread up her arms. Bodyfinders. They skirted the river’s edge in the dark, dredging for bodies with a long, hooked pole. Once found, they would pull them onto the boat,
rummage through the pockets for valuables, then take their clothes and dump the naked corpse back into the river.
    There were no proper burials for the