Shattered

by Stef M Ensing

  “But it is not on you to risk your life to make things better for your family,” he said carefully as they dealt again.

  “If not me who else?” She sipped from the bottle and tossed two cards in the discard. “It’s what you do for family.”

  “Is it?”

  She tilted her head to the side, studying him. “Do… did you have a family?”

  Jarrett went very still for several long moments before he shook his head. “Maybe once. All I knew was… was her estate. I lived there my entire life. I did not know anything but the other slaves there and they were not my family. They made that very clear the day they turned me in for pretending to spar with a broom when I thought no one was watching.”

  She felt something in her heart ache at the way he said that. “What happened?”

  “I was caught. Only fourteen and foolish. She did what any owner would do for a disobedient slave who thought too much of himself. She had me whipped. And then to compound my punishment and show the other slaves never to dare to fight she threw me in the training ring with her guards.”

  “Bitch.”

  A wry smile stretched across his lips, barely paying attention to the game anymore. “She didn’t expect me to stab one of them and down another by making him trip over his friend. It was luck but it showed I had skill.”

  “And that was when you started training in sword and shield?”

  “That was when she started training me in everything,” he said darkly. “I became her… pet.” The word waivered, his mouth going dry and bile rising in the back of his throat. “A project to see how much she could teach a slave. How far she could push someone before they would break.”

  There was nothing she could say. Nothing that would change what happened to him or make it better. She was amazed he was talking to her about it. He had never been so open before.

  “But you didn’t,” she said softly.

  He wasn’t so sure he agreed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said quietly.

  She was staring at him, those blue eyes boring into him. He wanted her to stop. Wanted the question in those eyes to leave. She would never look at him the same if she knew the truth and yet some dark part of him wanted her to. He wanted to fling the truth at her and watch her expression change. Watch the offer of open friendship she had given him crumble because it came with conditions after all, like he had been expecting from the beginning.

  “I was hers,” he said darkly. “I would have done anything for her. I did everything she asked of me. Drove myself past my limits. Got injured over and over. Betrayed my fellow slaves, hurt and murdered people. All on her order. I was her weapon. Her property. I was nothing unless I was with her. She had broken me because there was no me that existed without her.”

  Her reaction was wrong. There was no horror, no revulsion. Just… empathy. Just anger, not at him but at his old master. Why did she never react the proper way?

  “And yet you ran. And yet you rebelled against her and you are here and you are free. Independent of her.” Her hand came out and touched his. He flinched but she did not pull away. “Jarrett, you are free and strong. You are not nothing. You could never be nothing. Not now, not then.”

  He could hear the conviction in her words. She honestly believed them. How could she? He shied away from her touch and looked down at his cards, failing to focus on them. Numbly he laid them flat as though attempting to get them back to the game. After a moment she followed suit.

  He had won.

  The cards were shuffled again and they continued to play in silence and he was grateful. After a few hands, he cleared his throat and then did it again, trying to speak.

  “So… after your family is settled… what then? What do you want?”

  She frowned, dropping a single card in the discard as she thought. “I… I don’t really know what I want,” she confessed. “I don’t think I ever have. Back in Aodhan there was nothing really holding me there besides my family. I would go on trips for the business but I always came back. Here… I don’t know. I’ve been so focused on the next task, saving money, that final goal of the house and helping my father that I haven’t given what was next much thought. I guess it has gotten to the point I don’t know who I am unless I’m doing something to help the people I care about.”

  On some level Jarret understood. He had never given what actually living free would mean until he was confronted with it and even now, three years later, he still had no idea what to do with himself.

  “But you have no plans on leaving Imeryn after you… make it rich?” he asked hesitantly, not sure why that question was so important to him.

  She met his gaze, her blue eyes studying him intently. “No. No plans of leaving.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  There was absolutely no reason whatsoever to get up tonight, Payton repeated to herself for the fifth time. Over two hours had gone by since they went their separate ways for the night. At first, she tried to sleep but quickly gave that up for pacing by the fireplace. She had invaded his privacy enough for one day. She could not do it again!

  Letting out a huff, Payton whirled around and sat down on the padding made of blankets with a thump, staring at the fire. This was getting to be ridiculous. It was one thing for her to accidentally see him and then help him but to go to his room with the sole purpose of ensuring he didn’t need her that night… That was something entirely different.

  Running her fingers through her hair, she held her head in her hands. Today had been… different. She had learned so much more about him than she had ever known before and it troubled her. The things that lurked in his past, the abuse he suffered, it scarred him more than just that brand on his skin. It made her heart hurt for him and long to show him that there was good in the world, even if her own faith in that wavered with each new Templar attack. Waning with what had happened with Brisen and Simmons. Fracturing with the betrayal of her family…

  His questions that evening struck a chord with her. No one had asked her what she wanted in a long time. The fact that he cared, even if it was only as a friend, meant more to her than she wanted to admit.

  Glancing toward the window, Payton frowned. The storm had been lessening for hours; now only the slightest hints of rain could be heard hitting the glass. With the weather passing, she had to make a decision soon and she was almost scared to. Leaving her brothers behind would irrevocably split her from them but taking them along she could lose them. Two different forms of forever and the thought terrified her. Add to that, now she was beginning to dread the lengthy absence from Jarrett she would face. Where would she be without his sardonic remarks? His silent support, his soft smiles.

  Groaning, she fell back on her blankets, staring at the ceiling as though it could hold the answers for her. The desire to help him still burned in her. He had looked so peaceful, so serene when she woke to find his head in her lap this morning. It was a vast difference from the harsh lines that marred his features the last two times she had seen him dreaming.

  Whether she was trying to excuse her behavior or not, she would readily admit that there had been a marked difference in his behavior when she soothed him at night. He hadn’t seemed so clipped, so angry. His long silences and curt opinions obviously had remained but there was something softer with his words; an ease he seemed to feel.

  Getting to her feet, Payton tiptoed toward the hall, decision half made. She would see, that’s all she was going to do; see if he was having nightmares again. If he wasn’t she would march right back to her blankets and go to bed.

  The fire in his room was cackling, a log popped as she peeked in. Sliding into the room, Payton’s heart pounded in her chest. Sneaking toward his bed, she made his face out in the dark. His brows were pulled down, not in a glare but in a look that conveyed pain. Like the previous nights he was curled under the blanket, shoulders hunched. Every so often he would flinch, cringing back.

  Payton eased herself slowly onto the bed. At first, Jarrett shrank
back, frightened. Reaching out, she gently brushed his black hair off his forehead. Repeating the gesture, she ran the tips of her fingers down his head. Little by little the lines bled out of his face, the tension relaxing.

  Stroking his hair, she looked at the wall, lost in thought. Jarrett’s past colored so much of his present; even now in his sleep, he bore the taint of the slavers. And all she could do was be there for him if he needed her and hope that it would be enough.

  Chapter Forty

  Birds chirping for the first time in days woke him the next morning. Sunlight was peeking through the window casting shadows on the floor. Jarrett shifted and then froze, heart, pounding in his chest.

  Someone was touching him.

  There was a hand resting on his head near the nape of his neck.

  In one fluid movement, Jarrett acted. He clamped down on the person’s wrist, yanking them forward while simultaneously moving. Shoving the intruder to the floor with a thud, he straddled the person, pinning them down by the throat. He grabbed the dagger off the sword’s sheath, raising it, readying to plunge into the unsuspecting person’s chest.

  Startled blue eyes stared back at him, hands tugging at the one wrapped around their throat.

  Startled blue eyes that he knew.

  “Jarrett.” His name fell from her traitorous lips.

  His glare made her silent. His thoughts became turbulent as he tried to slow his rage to understand. “What are you doing here, Payton?” each word dripped from his voice with deadly venom.

  She swallowed hard, her throat moving convulsively beneath the hand he had yet to move. “I can explain…”

  He just glowered at her.

  “Jarrett,” the pleading sound in her voice grated on him. “You’ve been having nightmares and I just wanted to help.”

  “Help?” he snarled, unintentionally tightening his grip.

  Payton drew in a sharp breath in fear. “Jarrett, please.”

  He hovered for a moment, rage boiling within. With a growl, he let her go, getting to his feet and moving away. She shifted, sitting up, her hand to her throat, hair falling down her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Sorry?” he snapped looking at her sharply. “It’s an easy thing to say afterward: “I’m sorry.” As though apologies right the wrongs committed.”

  She flinched.

  Frantically, he began to pace, trying to control the bitter anger he was feeling. How could she do this to him? “I let you into my home. I told you things that I never…” he snarled. I trusted you, his thoughts added silently. Gesturing madly toward the bed, Jarrett looked at her. “And this is how you repay me?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “What do you know of what I think?” he shouted at her, only aware that he was still holding the small dagger when her eyes flickered to it. Forcing himself to put it down, he took a deep controlled breath and exhaled. “What were you doing?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “I was trying to help.”

  “With what?” He ground out.

  “Your nightmares.”

  His blood ran cold. “What?”

  Two blue eyes shot to his face before dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to, it just…” Words spilled out, the explanation of what had happened, how she had come to sit with him at night, her reasoning behind it. All of what she had done while betraying him, while violating his privacy. “It seemed to help you,” she pathetically excused.

  Jarrett clenched his hands as he processed all that she had said. “How many? How many times have you been in here?”

  “Last night was the third.”

  Rage exploded in him. Three nights she had done this! Letting out a string of curses, he whirled around, slamming his fist into the wall lest he hit her. Three nights she had snuck into his room and—what, watched him while he slept? Reveled in the fact he had nightmares? It did not make any sense to him.

  What was she planning? What use was the knowledge that he had nightmares without knowing the content? Was she planning on mocking him sometime in the future? Using his weakness against him like others before her?

  How dare she! How dare she use him! How could he have let her? How could he have let someone get so close to seeing him vulnerable? How could he have not woken! How could he have trusted her? Her! Had he not learned that she was the product of a Malvatharian? Hadn’t he learned by now that nothing good came of those people! Somehow she had tricked him. Somehow she had managed to convince him she cared.

  It reminded Jarrett all too much of his early days with his master; how eager he had been to please the woman. How she had convinced him that she cared for Jarrett only for him to realize the truth. The cold and terrible truth through pain and misery. Now he had fallen into the same trap. He believed he could trust her, he had wanted to trust her.

  “Jarrett,” her voice came from beside him.

  Turning sharply, Jarrett found himself face to face with her. A dark whisper entered his mind, taunting him, goading him to take the dagger and end her. Destroy the woman who had made him trust again.

  “Jarrett, please—”

  “Please what? Please let you explain how you enjoyed seeing me weak?” his voice dripped with animosity. She started to object but he ignored her. “Please let you tell me how you planned to use me? How laughable you found it when you gained the trust of the runaway slave? Please give you a moment to try and excuse molesting me in my sleep?”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Dragon shit,” he spat at her feet. “I should have known better. If there is one thing I’ve learned, nothing good comes from Malvathar. Better it be swallowed by the ice than allow them to continue to breed and poison this world.”

  A look he had never seen before crossed her face and she took a step back. “You don’t mean that. You don’t mean to condone mass murder.”

  “Don’t tell me what I mean,” he snarled, glaring at her, refusing to feel guilty for his words.

  “I didn’t come in here to hurt you.”

  He scoffed at her.

  “I did it because you were hurting and you needed help.”

  “I don’t need your help, Clark. I don’t need you.”

  The hurt that blossomed across her face made him flinch, cracked through his wall of anger and tugged at something inside of him. No! He would not be swayed. He would not believe her lies!

  “Get out of here,” he growled.

  Turning, the rogue headed for the door. Each step the dark voice goaded him. She used you; made you trust her. Do you think she won’t do it again? Do you think she won’t be waiting for a moment of weakness?

  “I never want to see you again, do you hear me? Never again.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Stumbling into the front room, Payton blindly went for her pack which was sitting on the table. She had known better. She knew she shouldn’t have acted on impulse with Jarrett. She cursed when she accidentally upended her bag onto the floor, sending her things flying. She knew that he would misunderstand her actions and it would result in him raging at her just as he had.

  Getting to her knees, she scrambled for her things. She had deceived herself. She had completely deluded herself into believing things would be all right; that he would explode but then somehow understand what she had done was not out of malice. Cursing at the deck of cards now scattered, she gathered them as quickly as she could. The first tear that ran down her face hit the back of her hand. She stared at the water drop, horrified. Blinking rapidly she stood.

  What had she done?

  Yanking her boots on, it was a miracle she could lace them.

  Her actions, the trust she had broken just cost her a friend. The pain that spread through her burned.

  What had she done?

  Securing her daggers, she picked up her pack. As though the Templars were chasing her, she fled out the door.

  Sunlight poured down on the wet street, mocking her with the ch
eery morning. Her feet moved, taking her in a random direction.

  How had it come to this? How had the simple act of comfort managed to screw everything up so badly? Jarrett had trusted her. The man never trusted anyone and he had trusted her. What had she done?

  She did not know where to go so she wandered aimlessly in the streets, trying not to cry.

  Had she lost a friend? Was Jarrett out of her life forever now? He had sounded resolute. He had been so cold and angry with her. And how could she blame him? She was a fool.

  A tear ran down her face. Nothing she did now would change the facts. Jarrett wanted nothing to do with her.

  Burying her pain behind a mask, she turned in the direction of the lower district. It was time to stop avoiding her problems. By the time she got to Simmons’ house, the city had fully woken and people were beginning to line the streets. It was a pleasant distraction from the weight in her heart, the din of the crowds and weaving through them.

  When she got to Simmons’ house she stalled at the door, neither wanting to knock or go in. But she could not hide forever. She slid the key in only to find it unlocked. Slowly she turned the knob and went in. She hovered in the doorway, frozen under the three pairs of eyes that had landed on her. She had not quite been prepared to tackle her entire family so immediately. She had thought her father would have been gone at the very least.

  She didn’t know what to say. Her lips parted ever so slightly but she failed to think of anything. She just stood there, her hand still on the knob, her heart pounding in her chest. Isiah’s words now mingled with Jarrett’s trying to banish her from any place that might provide her shelter.

  Suddenly Samuel moved. He pushed away from the table and onto his feet. Without preamble, he flung his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t know what to do, not having expected this at all. With the way things had been left she had been anticipating a frosty reception at best or more angry words and shouting at worst.