by Eve Langlais
“The king no talk about her ‘cause she’s sick in da head.” Jorah tapped his temple. “Hasna spoken a word in years. Not even ta her full brotha, Darius.”
“Why? What happened to her?”
The big man shrugged. It kept going once the first motion was done. “Bad shit went down years ago.”
“Bad enough she stopped talking.” She started to see where this was going. “Roark feels guilty for whatever happened to her.” Funny how she began to understand some of his odder actions. He tried to be the strong, tough leader, but in some respects, he loved too hard.
She’d heard of the lengths he’d gone to have his daughter healed when she was sick. Charlie was dying, literally of the swamp fever. They’d managed to slow it down, but she got weaker, according to the stories she heard. The healers he brought in weren’t strong enough.
Until he found Sofia. He’d done some pretty underhanded things to get her to help. Throwing Gunner against Titan in the arena. Trying to force her hand. Turned out he should have just told Sofia why he needed her.
The woman could heal. Not everything, but enough that there was concern she’d be a target, hence why she lived out of sight in Haven most of the time, making her creams and lotions infused with what she called “a little bit of feel good magic.”
The king had converted many people to his side. To his cause. He usually had a reason behind his madness. In this case, looking upon him, she knew with a certainty she’d nailed the reason for his stupidity this time.
“King blames himself for not protecting his sista and keeps trying to find her forgiveness.”
“She lives here instead of in Eden?” she asked.
“Because she donna like leaving the Silent Sisters tower.”
“The tower being?” she prodded.
“Place where da sick are cared for. Roark and Darius got her a nice room.”
Great, they treated their invalid sister well. It didn’t explain one thing. “Why would Roark drug me instead of saying he was going for a visit?”
“’Cause he likes his privacy.”
“So he can wallow in his guilt. What an idiot.” She shook her head. Then again, she understood pride. She’d fallen victim to it a time or two.
“He shouldn’t. Darius even told him it wasna his fault.”
Curiosity filled her more than ever. “How was she hurt?”
“Ya’ll have to ask him dat. I already gone done and said too much.”
Personally, she didn’t think Jorah had said enough, but he had managed to alleviate some of her initial ire. Roark would still pay for his actions, but he’d live.
“Let me get him ta bed.” Jorah grabbed his feet and lifted them; however, she shook her head.
“Leave him. Jerk deserves to drool on the floor given he drugged me. As if I would have stopped him from visiting his sister. Asshole.” She almost kicked him. How dare he think so badly of her?
Jorah moved Roark enough he could dump the lower half of his body into the room. “Donna be too mad. He’s weird about his sista, Anissa.”
Did he think Casey would kill her? Sure, in the Wasteland, the domes didn’t have much use for those that were infirm, but Casey liked to think she had a compassionate side. She wasn’t one of those who believed the elderly and crippled should be set outside to die. They still had too much to give. A strength of will she admired. And their stories…they saw so much more. Heard things that widened the eyes when recounted.
“I don’t give a fuck how weird he is about it. He should have told me instead of knocking me out,” she said, hustling Jorah out the door then returning to stand over Roark’s prone body.
Sachi sat on the other side. The cat couldn’t put her hands on her hips, but she was obviously with Casey on how stupid he was.
“I can’t believe he didn’t trust me.” That bothered her. He kept expecting her to place her trust in him, and while she hadn’t completely, she was pretty damned close. She knew he’d fight and defend with his life. He wasn’t as selfish as he wanted to appear.
The thing she worried about was her heart. What did it say about her that she worried he’d gone to see another lover?
She liked him too much, which, in turn, irritated her to no end. The temptation to kick him had to be curbed. Then again, he didn’t need a boot in the ribs to wake up sore. He remained slobbering on the floor.
More than ever she wished she had a camera. Maybe she could buy one in the city. Surely a place this big would have access to some pretty epic toys.
The cat looked at the prone man and then the bed. Her head cocked.
“You think we should move him? I guess so,” Casey said with a sigh.
Given the daunting task, she almost called Jorah back but instead grabbed an arm and heaved. Roark weighed more than he looked, but she’d helped Cam a time or two to find a spot better than a floor and knew how to drag a body. As she went to heave him, to get him on the bed, he finally opened an eye.
“It’s my lovely lady,” he slurred. “Will you betray me, too?”
“Never.” The words whispered past her lips, but she couldn’t have said if he heard. He closed his eyes and drifted off again. She needed a little help. She slapped his cheek lightly. “Wake up.”
“Fuck you. I’m sleeping,” he grumbled.
“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in bed?”
“Maybe,” he muttered.
He pushed himself to his feet, which was enough for her to shove and topple him onto the bed. He collapsed hard enough that the bed protested. One leg dangled from the side. Grabbing hold of it, she tugged it onto the bed, noticing his feet dangled off the edge because he’d missed the pillow.
She removed his shoes and holster. Weapons shouldn’t be left around the truly drunk. She didn’t touch his pants or shirt. She pulled the blanket over him and was tucking it around his shoulders when he opened his eyes again.
“Casey.” He sighed her name. “Why can’t I tell what you’re thinking?”
“Because it’s none of your business,” she tartly replied.
“But I need to know. How else do I know?”
“Know what?” she asked.
“Does she like me? Or hate me?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because every time I trust a woman, it ends up a lie.”
“Who lied?” Because he spoke as if he’d had more than one betrayal. Had someone other than Theona also been untrue?
“She did. Saying she loved me. She loved me not.”
“She’s also dead.”
“I know. I killed her.” He said it softly, his eyes closed. “I was wrong once before. What if I am wrong again?”
“You can trust me,” Casey felt compelled to say.
“I know I can trust you.” For a moment his eyes opened, glowing blue. “But I’m afraid of everything else.”
“Like what?”
He shuttered his gaze. Thinking him passed out again, she went to move, but his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “Where are you going?”
“To find a club to knock you out with,” she grumbled. She hated dealing with drunk people. She’d heard she was a pain in the ass when it was her turn to be lugged around. It didn’t happen often.
“Don’t hate me. I had to do it.”
“Do what? Drug me to visit your sister?” She leaned down and said, “I’ll make you pay for that when you wake up.”
“So long as you’re still here.”
The words caused a flutter in her chest. “And if I weren’t?”
“Then I’d know I truly fucked up. Again.”
That hurt her heart. “Yeah, you did, but we’ll get over it. I’ll see you when you wake up.” Because he needed sleep.
“Don’t leave me alone.” The words were husky and low.
“Why?”
“Because.” The only thing he said, and yet she could have sworn she felt a heavy warmth around her, welcoming and comforting.
She could have broken his hold
on her wrist easily enough. Instead, she lay down, wondering at this vulnerable side of him. The broken part. She understood broken things. There were times her past haunted her, too.
Apparently, they had that in common. That was why he’d drugged her. Not because he wanted to hide his sister from her but to ensure she didn’t see his weakness.
He spooned her body into his, the size of him engulfing, and yet she didn’t feel constrained. Rather, cherished, especially when he whispered, “If only this were real.”
“What makes you think it isn’t?” she murmured back.
“Because the real Casey’s going to kill me,” he groaned, burying his face in her hair.
He then began to snore lightly, but she smiled. If he’d thought the striptease of earlier cruel, she had something even more wicked in mind for him.
She allowed herself to doze, one ear open to the noise around them. When he began to stir, she was ready, grinding her bottom into his body, feeling him harden. She pretended not to notice even as she purposely teased.
His arm around her tightened, his hand seeking her breast. She allowed one squeeze before she rolled out of bed.
“I call dibs on the first shower.”
“We could share,” was his guttural reply.
She cast him a glance over her shoulder. “No thanks. I prefer to masturbate alone.”
The most brazen thing she’d ever said, and her cheeks turned hot, but it was worth the shock in his gaze. His jaw completely unhinged.
She stripped on the way to the washroom and was gratified to hear him grumble, “Not fair. This is way worse than what I did.”
In a sense he was right because it made her suffer, too. But she took care of it in the shower, even as it lacked the release she would have gotten with him.
When she emerged, he appeared quite annoyed. He had also obviously answered the door, given they had a new tray of food. It occurred to her to chastise him, only to remember how many times Cam had done the same thing to her.
Wait a second. Was she coddling the king like her brother used to with her? She could see how easy it would be to fall into the trap of assuming someone needed their help. She knew Roark wasn’t useless, just like Cam and everyone else knew they could count on her. And yet, in both cases, someone cared enough to go that extra mile.
“Meow.”
She glanced down at Sachi. “What?” The feline twined between her legs, her fur sticking and leaving Casey looking like a walking carpet. She grimaced.
Roark finally lost his scowl and even chuckled. “She’s asking for some breakfast.”
“Isn’t it more like lunch?”
“It involves bacon, so you can call it whatever you like.”
“Come on, your annoyingness.” She jerked her thumb at the cat. “I’ll give you a piece if you stop making it look like I’m in dire need of a shave.”
Sachi accepted the offer and trotted off to eat her bacon in hiding. The towel Casey wore loosened the moment she sat down. She pretended not to notice and leaned for more food. She didn’t look at him as she ate.
He sighed. “Get it over with.”
She eyed him.
He shrugged. “Yell at me. Call me names. I know you’re peeved about what I did.”
“I am.”
“Well?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Well, I guess we’ll be getting a late start since you slept most of the day away.”
“It’s barely noon. Besides, we’ll be doing most of our work tonight.”
“I am not sitting around twiddling my knives all afternoon.”
“Who said you wouldn’t be busy? We need to get you outfitted.”
“Excuse me?”
He gestured. “You can’t go to a ball in those clothes. You’ll need a dress.”
“A dress?” she repeated dumbly. “I don’t wear anything with skirts.”
“You will tonight if you want to come with me.”
“Are you seriously threatening me after what you did?” she said in a low, menacing tone.
“I am sorry for that.” He hung his head, one of the few times she’d seem him contrite.
Sorry wouldn’t cut it. “You left me vulnerable.”
“I had people stationed all over for your protection. Cost me a fair bit, I should add.”
“It wouldn’t have cost you a thing if you’d trusted me.”
“I trust you, but—” His jaw stiffened. “It’s a delicate situation.”
“It’s your sister.”
He grimaced. “Jorah told you?”
“He didn’t have a choice. I threatened to split him open.”
Roark leaned back from the table and rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “My sister isn’t well.”
It was the best opening she’d get to ask. “What happened to her?”
“I should rewind a bit first and explain that Anissa is my half-sister. She’s the other child my father had with Darius’s mother. I only met her after I first encountered my brother. We didn’t exactly hit it off.”
“Why?”
“A multitude of reasons.” He shrugged. “Mostly because, like me, she didn’t appreciate the fact our father lied.”
“How are your father’s actions your fault?”
“They’re not. But Anissa didn’t care. She saw me as the reason she only had him part of the time. She claimed I stole him from her. Which, in turn, led to her hating me. She hated me enough she helped someone set a trap.”
“Theona.” Casey breathed the name as she made the connection.
“I didn’t know until later. After Theona’s death, I went to pay a visit to Anissa. I tried every time I went to the city.”
“Why?”
“Out of some misbegotten sense of obligation. Not just to her, but my brother. When she saw me, she was surprised.”
“You read her mind and knew what she’d done.”
“Not quite. I didn’t have to because she bragged in detail how she’d betrayed me. It was she who told Theona how to weasel her way into my affection.”
“You’re the one who fell for it.”
“I did,” he admitted. “Because I couldn’t read her intentions. I believed the lies.”
“So your sister admitted her perfidy, and you tried to kill her.”
“No. I stood there in shock. Disbelief really. First Theona, then my own sister. I didn’t react in time when she came after me with a knife.” He put a hand to his chest, and she knew the scar the shirt covered. “Even as I lay there bleeding, I didn’t fight back. I would have let her kill me.”
“Why? Why would you not defend yourself?” Then answered her own query. “You were feeling guilty about Theona, too, weren’t you?”
“I killed the mother of my child. My own sister hated me.”
“But if you’d died, what of Charlie?”
“I wasn’t thinking that clearly,” he said ruefully.
“Obviously, something happened?”
“Darius arrived. He saw her about to stab me for the fourth time and tried to stop her. I was bleeding pretty bad by then and could barely move. So I did the only thing I could to save his life.”
“You jumped inside her head.”
He nodded. “But I was hurt and confused. I might have gone in a little too strong. She collapsed. Became catatonic since that day. She’ll eat and move if commanded, but she won’t speak or act of her own volition.”
“I’m going to assume you didn’t mean for that to happen?”
“Of course not,” he barked. “I barely touched her. It’s as if her mind had some kind of fault line and I triggered it with my command to stop.”
“Did Darius blame you for what happened?”
He shook his head. “I saved him. And me. Maybe even Charlie, too.”
“You were justified in your actions, yet your guilt still has you visiting.”
He sighed. “I can’t help but feel as if I somehow failed her. I keep hoping that I can get past that barrier in her
head and give her the life she deserved.”
“It’s been seven years, though.”
“And? I made her the way she is. I owe it to her to at least try.” His bleak expression caused a pang in her heart.
“What happened to her was unfortunate but not your fault.”
“Are you telling me if something bad happened to Cam, and you were involved, you wouldn’t take it personally?”
“Now you sound like my brother.” Her turn to finally admit something. “You suffer one kind of guilt; Cam suffers another. See, he blames himself for me getting hurt.”
“Hurt how?” he asked cautiously.
“The way some bad people like to hurt children,” was her soft admission. “He feels such guilt he didn’t act in time. And then spent the rest of his life overcompensating.”
“With overprotectiveness,” Roark mused aloud. “A big difference, though. You didn’t blame him for your pain.”
“No, but I did for his constant reminders. Every time he ran to my aid or stepped in front of me, I remembered how I couldn’t save myself. How I allowed myself to be hurt.”
“You didn’t allow it. You were a child,” he hissed.
“I was. But I hesitated when it came time for me to fight. Cam paid for my mistake. You also hesitated, and it cost you. Now we’re both overcompensating in different ways to atone for a guilt we can’t shake.”
“And this is why you’re a lady of my court. Wise beyond your years.” There was no mockery in his words, just a gentle sadness.
“You said something about trying to get inside your sister’s head. Can you read her mind at all?”
His lips pressed into a line, and he played with his food.
“What is it?”
“I can’t read it.”
“But…”
“But I can feel her anger whenever I get close. She practically seethes with it. And not just because of our father. She hates me because I killed Theona. Her plan was to have Theona strike me down because she thought if I died or went away, then she could be queen.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Not in Eden. Not with my people. But in her mind, it made perfect sense. Whoever planted the idea made it feel believable to her.” He stood from the table, shrugging off the melancholy conversation, regaining the brashness that made him stand out. “Are you ready, my knife-toting lady, to go dress shopping?”