Fable of Happiness Book Two

by Pepper Winters

I didn’t think he’d abuse that power.

  Not now.

  Not after this.

  “I’ll look after you as long as you look after me,” he murmured. It could’ve been romantically sweet, yet it sounded like a death sentence.

  We stood in that truce, knowing this was the moment everything changed. I didn’t know what that change would bring, but we were no longer separate. Our survival hinged on each other—the most intimate of all relationships.

  Sniffing back my final sadness, I looked up and caught his stare.

  I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t afraid. I was just me. A girl who’d achieved the impossible and become financially free thanks to scaling problems people deemed unachievable.

  This was just another problem. A challenge to be conquered.

  I can do this.

  “Tell me,” I said, calm and collected, standing as regally as I could muster. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  We.

  That one tiny word.

  It hovered between us on a parachute, dancing on the fire between us.

  He noticed.

  He snatched it from the sky and hugged it close.

  The faintest glow of relief filled his eyes as he nodded. The animosity between us was still there but muted beneath a common goal. “We work side by side to survive.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I WAS DEFINITELY SCHIZOPHRENIC.

  How else could I describe the switches inside my head? The painful evolution of who I’d been for so long, followed by the agonizing regression back into the darkness I was born in.

  For the past seven days, I’d become a stranger to myself.

  I’d had far too much time to contemplate and analyze. I hadn’t turned to cleaning or reading even though my idle hands craved to be busy. Any and all activities hurt my head and sent my balance spinning. I also had no strength to garden or prepare, and I’d promised Gemma a week to acclimatize, so she was off-limits.

  I could’ve gone to her, but it wasn’t just her who needed space.

  I didn’t understand what was happening to me.

  One morning, I was the man I’d always known. I was cold and dark and had a fortress of bricks blocking my mind from memories I had no desire to face. But by afternoon, I was someone else entirely. I was calm and light with a petrifying contentment just knowing I wasn’t alone. Knowing there was another soul in this place, breathing, eating, existing.

  I’d think of her and the urge to do something nice would overwhelm me. I’d dream of her and the craving to have her bowing at my feet would make me hard.

  Both sides of me wanted control over her. The only problem was one side wanted to force that control while the other understood if she gave it to me willingly it would taste so much sweeter than stealing it.

  Those sorts of thoughts terrified me.

  They kept me awake at night until my concussed brain flickered out, sending me unconscious wherever I happened to be sitting. For a week, I stewed in my thoughts, slowly becoming less and less familiar with who I was. Who I wanted to be.

  I had no distractions to throw myself into. All my usual crutches, all the tricks I used to keep my mental walls in place were no longer an option, and the forced self-reflection led me to one horrifying conclusion.

  I’m mentally damaged.

  I was sure Gemma already knew this. If I was stupid enough to go to her and tell her my revelation, she’d laugh in my face and ask why it’d taken so long for me to see.

  But maybe that was the point.

  If you were mentally damaged, how could you know you were mentally damaged unless someone else brought it to your attention?

  What sort of checklist did you have to complete to finally figure out what was wrong with you?

  Because things are wrong with me. Too many things to count.

  In the hours where my eyes weren’t too fuzzy and my head didn’t ache too much, I’d skim the medical books in the library. I’d search for an explanation why, ever since Gemma’s arrival, I’d been slowly losing grip on my reality.

  One book said schizophrenia was an imbalance of brain chemistry that distorted real events, created fictitious happenings, and generally fucked up the person diagnosed. Without medical and long-term care, they were a danger and menace to society.

  Could that be why I lived out here on my own? Perhaps Storymaker and the guests never actually existed? Could I have made all of that up?

  Those questions scared me shitless because if that was true, it meant my Fable family wasn’t real. It erased the only happiness I’d ever gleaned thanks to short, stolen moments of togetherness. Nyx and Wes, Jareth and Elise were all just fragments of my fractured mind.

  But then my gaze would land on my scars and trigger a flash of someone’s cock being thrust into me or some woman’s mouth trailing down my belly, and I’d stop breathing.

  That sort of filth could only have come from experience.

  My mind might be sick but not that sick.

  I glanced at the woman walking by my side. Her feet encased in boots, her legs bare and flashing beneath her skirt, soaking up the heat from the bright sunshine. Her blond hair was threaded with precious golds and coppers, glinting as her head ducked, and her hazel eyes followed the hop of a lazy grasshopper.

  The sensation of her every footstep resonated around my waist thanks to the shorter chain binding us. She walked beside me as if we were equals, yet the soft plink of metal was a constant reminder she wouldn’t willingly walk beside me if given a choice.

  And fuck, if that didn’t hurt.

  Can you blame her?

  I swallowed a growl. I might not be able to blame her for not wanting anything to do with me, but I could blame her for every other problem she’d caused. Life would be so much simpler if she’d just stayed the hell away. If I’d never been forced into this painful soul search and unwanted evolution.

  Tipping her head to the sun, she lengthened her neck with grace and power, making my already hard cock twitch. She had shadows under her eyes, revealing her exhaustion from the past seven days.

  Good.

  I was glad she was tired because I felt the same way. Even after everything I’d endured, I couldn’t remember a time I felt more exhausted, more drained. I couldn’t accept that some days I woke and for the full hours I was aware, I didn’t recognize a single piece of me. I didn’t want to accept that I suffered from a medical condition without a cure.

  She sighed and scanned the valley, drinking in the river in front of us and the swaying grass that was past time for a harvest. She looked so grounded, so centered in who she was, what she believed in, and what morals to follow.

  At that moment, I stupidly thought she could help. She could cure me of whatever illness I—

  Fuck, no way.

  If I showed her a shred of how truly messed up I was, she wouldn’t fix me like I needed her to but merely use it to her advantage. She’d already taken care of me, repairing my body after she’d pushed me off the cliff. She’d shown me kindness, and in return, I’d cursed her. I’d trapped her, making promises that ensured she’d die here with me as her only company.

  Why the hell would she try to help fix any other part of me after that?

  I strode faster, forcing my legs to stay stable and upright. At least the buzzing in my ears had faded, and my eyes were more reliable today, even in the bright sunshine. Tiny increments of progress, just not fast enough for my liking.

  She had no choice but to speed up with me, her ankle tugging on the leather cuff as the distance grew too far between us. With a huff, she jogged toward me, then wrapped her arms around herself as she matched my pace.

  My hands clutched around the two snares I’d brought with us. Traps I’d designed and crafted to catch smaller game. I should’ve started trapping a few weeks ago, using the sun to dry the strips of meat so it lasted the long winter. I no longer had salt to preserve with, and smoking took time and firewood. I’d freeze a lot of the meat, but if our electricity
supply was intermittent, we could risk losing everything that way.

  “Stop,” I muttered, ducking down to ram the stake into the summer-hardened ground and open the door on the small cage. Setting the mechanism, ready to snap closed when something entered, I withdrew a handful of lettuce leaves from my jeans pocket and scattered them in the back. They were wilted and damaged but would still entice a range of wildlife.

  Standing, I sucked in a breath and fought the urge to reach for her for balance. The valley swayed, and the roar of the river turned excruciatingly loud for a second before I swallowed down my nausea and locked my knees for stability.

  Her gaze danced with questions. I would happily answer whatever she wanted to know—after all, she needed to learn this stuff. And really, I needed her to talk to me—about anything at this point. I needed to know I was still me even if she’d systemically destroyed me every hour she was in my godforsaken life.

  However, she bit her cheek, shook her head once, and stepped away, waiting with her back to me until I joined her, and we fell into a silent walk again.

  As we drew closer to the river, I set the second trap, placing it along the natural tracks of prey. Once again, she watched my every move but didn’t give me a single word. If she knew how hard her stare made me, she probably wouldn’t even do that. Could she guess that her eyes felt like a physical touch? That my blood grew hot, and my heart pounded quick, and my cock...well, that’d been fucking aching for days.

  Pushing upright, I tripped sideways. I braced to crash but instinct had her reaching for me, grabbing my unbroken arm and yanking me to her. I tripped the other way, falling into her delicious curves, planting my hands onto her hips with possessive control.

  We froze.

  Everything went quiet.

  The hunger inside me turned to shaky starvation.

  My head lowered, my tongue licked my lips, my brain fogged with a single purpose...to kiss her. To kiss her stupid so she kissed me back and I could take her in the dirt like before. I’d promised I wouldn’t fuck her today, but she’d touched me first. She was the reason we were breathing hard, flushed and wanting with so much unspoken shit between us.

  I grazed her nose with mine.

  She flinched and pushed me, upsetting my balance again and stepping out of my grasp. “Next time, I’ll just let you fall.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “Just like you let me fall off the cliff?”

  She sniffed. “I refuse to repeat that conversation.”

  “And I refuse to let you continue giving me the silent treatment.” I pinched the bridge of my nose before dropping my hand. “I told you I don’t like it. If I wanted silence again, I’d just have disposed of you when I had the chance.”

  “Hah!” She smiled nastily. “And what chance was that? The one when you tried to strangle me the first time? Or was it the second? Oh wait, no, it was the third time, wasn’t it? The time you ran after me and pinned me into the mud?” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “But wait, that time you kissed me instead. You chose to make love to me instead of kill—”

  “I didn’t make love to you.” I stood straight, temper crackling down my spine. “I fucked—”

  “Yes, yes, you taught me a lesson by fucking me senseless.” She waved her hand. “Consider me terrified.”

  “I—”

  Goddammit, this woman.

  I opened and closed my mouth, not quite sure what to volley with. My temples pounded, and I struggled to keep track of what we were arguing about. Wait, was this even an argument? I was confused and horny and dangerously close to just grabbing her and doing whatever I wanted. I wanted her ever since latching that cuff around her ankle. I’d wanted her every fucking second or every fucking day, and the fact I hadn’t taken her yet confounded me. I was no stranger to forced sexual contact. It was easy to get others to grant whatever twisted pleasure you were in the mood for. I should know. I’d been summoned far too many times to count. Yet for some idiotic reason, the longer I kept her—choosing to care for her like any good owner would his pet—the harder I found it to take her.

  Probably because, no matter her denial, I’d never actually forced her. That time by her car had been entirely fucking mutual. And the second time in her car...shit, that’d been hot as hell, devastatingly erotic, and Christ, I needed back inside her.

  Running both hands through my hair, I scowled. “What’s your point? I’m assuming you have a point? Or did you just feel like being a bitch for no reason?”

  Her hands balled at my slur, but she kept her chin high and voice clipped. “My point, oh incredible master, is just like I don’t seem to have the power to kill you, you do not have the power to kill me.” She marched into me, stabbing my T-shirt with her finger. “Ergo, we are both doomed to live with threats and ultimatums but both too stupidly weak to do anything about them.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  She snorted. “Okay, fine. Good luck proving me wrong.” Stomping off, she only got a few feet before the chain around her ankle yanked on the one around my waist, making us both grunt with discomfort.

  Swallowing back rapidly unfurling anger, I stalked to her side. “I’m glad you’re so full of energy. That’s going to be convenient for the next task.”

  She scowled. “What task?”

  “That.” I pointed toward the river with its crystal water. Parts of the blue waterway followed sedately with barely a ripple, while just before the calm pool, rapids danced and bounced over rocks. Those rapids were responsible for eighty percent of all electricity power at Fables, and whatever had damaged the hydro plant needed to be fixed well before ice arrived.

  Luckily, the rapids were the last part of the river to freeze, normally waiting until early spring to turn solid completely, meaning the solar panels could pick up the slack as sunlight hours increased. However, during the dead of winter, every kilojoule generated by this river was valued and sorely needed.

  “Come.” Tugging the leash around my waist, I gave her no choice but to follow me to the water’s edge. She came grudgingly, her body tense and lips pursed in frustration. My heart chose that moment to skip a stupid beat as the memory of her in the foyer slammed into me. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  We.

  In that second, she’d accepted that there was a we. That whatever separate paths we’d been on were now unarguably threaded into one.

  That memory vanished as quickly as it’d arrived, dumping me back by the river.

  And fuck me, I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there or why.

  For a terrifying second, I glanced around at a foreign land, and I didn’t have a goddamn clue who I was, where I was, or what I was supposed to be doing.

  Oh, God.

  Clammy sweat drenched me.

  I sucked in a shallow breath.

  Panic flowed swift, only to screech to a halt as my mind suddenly flooded with answers.

  My valley. My river. Me.

  Gemma.

  I spun to look behind me, my heart unwilling to beat in fear that she’d been a mirage this whole time. That I’d made up the past few weeks. That I didn’t have anyone to call my own.

  But she was there.

  Watching me warily, her forehead pinched and teeth chewing on her bottom lip. “What? What happened?” She balled her hands as if she didn’t want to ask but felt like it was her duty after nursing me through the worst. “Are you...are you okay?”

  Was I okay?

  I don’t know.

  What just happened?

  I was used to my mind being riddled with barricades and embargos so memories couldn’t suck me down, but I’d never been so vacant before. Never forgot the fundamental pieces of my life.

  It’s over.

  You’re fine.

  Don’t let her know.

  Grunting, I cocked one shoulder as arrogantly as I could. “Of course, I’m okay. It’s a beautiful day and I’m with a beautiful girl.”

  “Beautiful prisoner, don’t you mean?” she
muttered.

  “Beautiful regardless of ugliness between us.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  I didn’t like how I felt...tight and hot and needy. And I definitely didn’t like the words that’d spilled uncontrolled out of my mouth. I hadn’t meant to say such things. I hadn’t meant to have a blackout while still awake. I hadn’t meant to be this screwed up, fucked up, and totally floundering for help.

  “Get naked,” I snapped. With our eyes locked, I reached behind my neck for my T-shirt and yanked it over my head. “Now.”

  Her eyes trailed over my chest despite her annoyance. “Is this a striptease? Do you expect me to swoon at your feet?”

  I smiled thinly, unbuttoning my jeans and shoving the zipper down. “You saying my body could drive you to swoon?” I kicked away the denim and, in the same move, shoved my black boxer briefs down my legs to join them on the pile.

  She choked as her eyes fell on my naked cock. My very hard, very eager cock. “So this is where you plan to force me—”

  “I told you, I have more important things to worry about.” Of course, if she showed a minuscule amount of interest in having me, I’d pounce on her and have her on her knees before she’d even said my name. The name she still hadn’t earned the right to use.

  Do you want me like I want you, Gem?

  I paused, searching her face for any sign that, beneath her exhausted fury, she was as wet as I was hard. The moment stretched, then ended. I nodded with disappointment, slowly growing black inside.

  How long would I let her deny me? How soon would I snap and take her anyway? How would I cope knowing she’d hate me even more when I finally did? Did she think living with me came for free? She was only alive because I found her irresistibly attractive, conveniently arriving at a time when my body was making my life a living hell.

  She’d been the pawn in which to bypass all the dirty shit inside my head. She could touch me; I could not. She could make me climax; I would never give myself that pleasure.

  That was all I wanted from her, regardless of all the messy new thoughts and strangeness inside me. The moment my heart got in the way of my orgasms, then we had a whole other disaster to deal with.