Fable of Happiness Book Two

Home > Romance > Fable of Happiness Book Two > Page 36
Fable of Happiness Book Two Page 36

by Pepper Winters


  Is she bleeding?

  Anything missing?

  Fear forced words up my throat. “Are you...are you okay?”

  She just smirked. Smirked as if I hadn’t just had a fucking heart attack over her welfare. “I solved our issue.”

  “What issue?” My temper soared, ripping through my concern.

  “The fact that you can’t remember where the key is issue.”

  I narrowed my eyes, locking onto the chain.

  The now dismembered chain.

  She kicked out her ankle, revealing a short leash that could easily be tucked into the waistband of a skirt or threaded through a pair of leggings.

  “Now, darling Kas, you won’t do anything stupid, will you?”

  Storymaker lashed his hand around my ankle while his other hovered with a key. I tried to hide my desperation to be free, doing my best to keep my face respectful and contrite. “No, sir.”

  “Because if I release you and find out you’re once again scurrying around in the dark, then this goes back on your ankle for the rest of your life. Got it?”

  No way.

  A month was bad enough.

  A month of knowing Storymaker felt my every move. A month of constantly backtracking around furniture so I could earn slack to serve guests or do my chores. Each time I jerked in my sleep with a nightmare, the chain let Storymaker know. The first few times, he’d charged into the dorm and beat me, just for the sake of it. He claimed it was because I’d tried to leave my bed, but in reality, it was just an excuse to hurt me.

  At least the entire month I wore Parable, he’d never laid another finger on my other family members. They were boring to him. I was the fly, and he was the spider, and he relished playing with me.

  “I’m only letting you go because I’m sick of your twitching waking me up at night. Don’t make me regret this.” Stroking my cheek, he dropped his gaze to my mouth. “Otherwise, I might just make an exception to my sexual preferences and see why all our guests rave about you.”

  My stomach revolted.

  I almost vomited.

  I waited for the command that I couldn’t refuse. The instruction to serve and get on my pathetic, conditioned knees. But after a second, he blinked and inserted the key into the padlock. When the cuff fell off my ankle, I swallowed a groan.

  Pulling up his shirt, he unlocked and unbuckled the belt from his waist.

  He smiled as he stood, leaving the long length of chain on the floor. “Put that away, nice and safe, Kassen. That way, if you disobey me again, you’ll know exactly where to go to retrieve it.”

  Fuck that. I wanted to burn it.

  I wanted to smash it into teeny tiny pieces and—

  I gasped, stumbling to the side, lost for a second as Storymaker’s room switched for sunshine and vegetable patches.

  The heavy shame and crawling disgust I’d felt wearing Parable crawled over me. It’d psychologically screwed me up. For months after being chained, I’d been embarrassingly obedient. I’d no longer sneaked extra food for my family. I turned my back on their wounds and refused to slink through the dark to get medicine.

  I was a perfect little slave, and to this day, it left oily guilt in my stomach. I still couldn’t shed the shame. I’d conveniently shoved that memory away—just like all the rest. I forgot what a nasty imprisonment Parable was. I’d forced Gemma to wear it. The girl currently helping me survive winter. The girl who no longer looked at me as if I was her enemy.

  The girl I was fucking falling for—

  Get it off!

  The ax handle grew heavy and hot in my hands. I might wear a different end of the chain these days, but it still bound me to this place, to my memories, to the masters who I despised. It made me become that master. It made me the bastard in Gemma’s eyes.

  Get it the fuck off me.

  Swinging the ax, I didn’t aim true.

  I just struck.

  I struck and struck, clods of dirt went flying as I hacked at the monstrous chain.

  “Wait!” Gemma sprang backward, getting the hell out of the way as I went wild, chopping Parable into pieces just like I wished I could’ve back then.

  Storymaker’s ghost slithered in my mind, hissing retribution and pain.

  I hit harder.

  I would’ve sliced the damn chain into ribbons if it wasn’t for my broken arm sending shooting pains through my bone, making me hiss, sending my swing unstable.

  “Stop!” Gem hugged herself, staying a safe distance. “Stop, you’re hurting your arm again! For God’s sake, I’ll do it.”

  I folded forward, the ax blade wedging into the dirt as sweat poured down my back. I looked at the massacre. The ground had well and truly been murdered, including the chain that now rested in broken links.

  Satisfaction soothed my mania.

  It’s done.” Breathing hard, I dropped the ax and stepped back, waiting to see how many metal loops followed me. Not many. Just a short reminder. A length to match hers, no longer joined together—just a memento of so many sick and twisted things.

  My knees wobbled as she moved toward me, picking up the short length and tugging it slightly, reeling me into her, a slave caught by a leash.

  I wanted to tell her to stop. To let me go. But the closer she came and the more steps she dragged me forward, the thicker the air became.

  Every inch of me buzzed with need as we stopped in the middle of the garden, her hands wrapped around the chain as if she never wanted to let me go. I was captive before her, aware my heart had a new master now, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

  “I promise I won’t run,” she whispered, her head tipping up, her hair slipping down her back like liquid honey.

  I licked my lips. My blood hummed, and my bones sparked, and I couldn’t fucking breathe without inhaling her delicious scent of papaya, soil, and woodsmoke.

  Woodsmoke?

  I looked over my shoulder to the screen hiding the bath from the wind. Even from here, remnants of charred firewood and muddy ground were visible, giving simple and obvious evidence that the bath had been used last night.

  It’d been filled and lit, and I’d apparently fucked this beautiful girl beneath the moon, and we’d kissed and talked, and I—

  I can’t goddamn remember!

  It wasn’t fair that I’d forgotten.

  I was sick of being sick.

  I was done with all of this.

  The living alone.

  The constant hard work and endless loneliness.

  The refusal of my mind to give me anything but darkness.

  The blank moments. The haze. The constant headaches and mood swings.

  I wanted more.

  I wanted her.

  I wanted her even knowing I might forget her, hurt her...kill her.

  I wanted to be nice to her.

  But how do I do that?

  How did I put aside a decade of animalistic existence? How did I shrug off the beast I’d become and willingly give up my life?

  Because loving her would demand my life.

  My sacrifice.

  My pain.

  And I would pay it because the way she looked at me? The way she trembled with welcome, with wariness, with hope—it undid me in the worst kind of ways.

  It reminded me of those eight kids who I’d sheltered in the dark. Of my vow to take every rape, every bloodplay, every disgusting game so they didn’t have to.

  That was the only part of me that was good.

  It redeemed me, even if it condemned me.

  But I didn’t know if I had the strength to be that again.

  “Kas...” Gemma licked her lips, her blond hair clean and fresh, her body drugging me the longer we stood so close. “You’ve gone white.”

  I gulped.

  I felt feverish and twitchy.

  I wanted to run, to strike, to fuck, to cry.

  I wanted her to touch me, all while I wanted her to get far away from me.

  I didn’t understand what w
as happening.

  How could I stand so still, all while my thoughts unraveled? How could my heart race with anger directed at everyone, everything, yet my cock hardened with a sudden desperation?

  Lust twisted with trust, granting an intoxicating, bone-deep knowledge that I could be true with her.

  I could talk to her, and she wouldn’t run.

  I could share what I’d done and how I’d been treated, and she wouldn’t look at me as if I was dirty or broken.

  It would be a gift.

  A curse.

  A brand new experience that would probably break me.

  “I...I don’t know what to say.” I shrugged, drawn to her body, her eyes, her goodness. For the first time in my life, I wanted to try out honesty. I didn’t want to filter, choosing what to say in order to protect the family I’d chosen to guard. I wanted to speak from my heart even though it fucking terrified me.

  “You don’t have to say a thing.” She inched closer until our feet touched and heat ignited hotter between us. “Do you want me to let you go?” Her fingers curled around the chain, tugging on my waist.

  Did I?

  Yes.

  No.

  Christ, I don’t know.

  “What do you want, Kas?” she whispered. “You’re scaring me, and not in the usual way. You’re impossibly still, yet I know your mind is racing. I see it in your eyes. In the way you clench your jaw and brace your shoulders. You’re fighting something, and I don’t know how to help you.”

  I sucked in a heavy breath. “Would you? Help me? If you knew what I’m struggling with? Even after everything?”

  She nodded instantly, her hair dancing in the sunlight. “Always.”

  Her answer rolled my shoulders with yet another layer of unfathomable emotion.

  I didn’t deserve this woman.

  Not even a scrap of her.

  Whatever had happened last night might always be erased from me, but somehow, we were no longer strangers, no longer enemies.

  She had the power to become my fucking everything.

  I would fight to the death for her. I would take any beating. I would put myself between her and every monster imaginable.

  I would give her everything, and wasn’t that the crux of my problem?

  She. Was. Mine.

  But in return, that meant I was hers.

  Heart, body, and fucked-up soul.

  And if I admitted to that, it would be my Fable family all over again.

  I would give up my life to keep her safe, even if that meant keeping her safe from me. I would do whatever was necessary to make her happy, and the key to her happiness was to release her.

  To let her go home.

  Where I wouldn’t be able to watch over her—wouldn’t be able to protect her from men like Storymaker. My gut churned with acid at the thought of Storymaker ever getting his hands on Gemma. Of guests making her scream.

  Fuck.

  My muscles locked with fury.

  “Hey...” Her hand landed on my chest, her fingers pressing against my thundering heart. “It’s okay.” Her hazel gaze glittered with worry, ringed with gold and green, a wisdom that made me feel unworthy and adrift.

  I felt so goddamn lost all the time.

  I needed an anchor. I wanted her to be that anchor.

  But even now, I felt the looseness in my thoughts. The haze of white just waiting for me to snap into forgetfulness.

  She swayed closer, her nipples hard beneath her dress. “Do you want me to let you go?” she asked again, her fingers flexing on the chain she still held, keeping me trapped.

  I looked down at her hands, one on my chest and one on the remnants of Parable, and I saw a fork in my future.

  The chain had all the power to suck me back and keep me imprisoned. I could continue to be a toy for the ghosts inside this mansion and fight demons that would never die.

  Or...or I could choose her.

  I could finally admit that even though it would drive me insane in a different way, I wanted to be worthy of this girl.

  Her.

  I want her.

  My stomach clenched as she sucked in a breath, sensing I’d reached a decision. The world fell away as I reached out and cupped her breast, running my thumb over her nipple.

  She twitched as a noiseless moan escaped her.

  I looked up.

  I studied this girl who’d trespassed and made my life a living hell, and suddenly, it was all too much. Drawing my hand from her breast, over her throat, to her cheek, I pressed my palm against her softness.

  Her eyes snapped closed as her entire body shivered. “You don’t have to hold yourself back with me,” she breathed. “I know...I know you want me.”

  Dragging my thumb over her bottom lip, I forced words through a tight and gravelly throat. “But do you...want me?”

  Her eyes flared, more gold than green, vibrant with lust. “If you are aware of who I am and where we are, then yes.” Her tongue touched my thumb with a sensuous lick. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, even while I fought you.”

  Pulling her to me, I smashed my mouth to hers.

  She gasped in shock as I broke the seal of her lips, driving my tongue deep.

  I wasn’t slow.

  I wasn’t gentle.

  I was hungry.

  Fucking starving for things yesterday had given me, and today had wiped clean. I was jealous of myself. Furious that I’d had this girl, I’d come in her, we’d shared things I’d always craved, yet it was as if it never happened.

  “You’re mine.” I kissed her rough and mean.

  Chain or no chain, she would always be mine.

  If I couldn’t remember, then I’d have to take her all over again. And again. I’d have to fuck her until I knew nothing else but her.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I hauled her against my body, kissing her so damn deep. She wriggled, fighting for space, for air. Her hands landed on my chest.

  I waited for her to push me away. To reveal she hadn’t wanted me, after all.

  Instead, she tried to climb me.

  A trigger had erupted in her too, sending her over the edge where I’d already fallen. “Kas. Yes—” Her head tipped left and right, her lips skating over mine, her tongue twisting deep as I kissed her. “Harder. Please? You can touch me as hard as you need.”

  Harder?

  That word wormed into my skull and obliterated everything else.

  My arms bunched, locking her to me, holding her painfully tight as my hips thrust against hers. Our kiss turned manic. I kissed her with no mercy, taking advantage of her open, hungry mouth, capturing her tongue, her taste, and claiming every dark, wet piece of her.

  She plastered herself against me, placing herself entirely into my control as our bodies writhed together. I shoved my thigh between her legs, pushing up her dress. She rode me. Her hand flew down and found my erection, stroking me through my jeans.

  The kiss evolved from desperate to savage in one second flat.

  All the pent-up fury, the forgetfulness, the ferocity gushed out of me, smashing like a tidal wave from my messed-up heart to hers.

  Her left hand wrapped behind my neck, pulling me into her. Her right stroked harder, faster.

  I needed inside her.

  Now.

  Grabbing handfuls of her ass, I yanked up and in. Her hand fell away as I ground my aching erection against her pussy, her dress spreading with her thighs.

  She gasped.

  I kissed her deeper.

  She squirmed.

  I thrust against her.

  I consumed her body and soul. She kissed me as if she wasn’t just participating but imprinting me, making sure this moment couldn’t be stolen from her. Doing her best to make me remember. Hurting me all over again.

  I’d done things to this woman. I’d promised things I couldn’t remember. I’d given her pieces of myself, and then I’d taken them away again.

  I had the shitty existence of not knowing what those things
were, but Gemma...she had it harder because she’d thought I was cured.

  That she’d cured me.

  Fuck, if only it was that easy.

  “Kas—” Her legs hooked over my hips, grinding her core against my pulsing cock. “I need you inside me. Please.”

  She set fire to every inch of my idiotic heart and greedy soul.

  I wanted to be free with her. I wanted to indulge in things and take everything she had to offer, but most of all, I wanted to fucking remember those things after we’d finished.

  Ripping my mouth from hers, I panted, “Make me a promise, Gemma Ashford.” Her head snapped up, lust-fogged eyes struggling to concentrate on mine. I kept her cradled in my arms even though my broken arm burned and my cock was seconds away from exploding. I had to make her vow. “Right here, right now, make me a promise.”

  She swallowed, her lips swollen and face etched with need. “Anything.”

  I bent and kissed her. Softly. Maddingly gentle. “Remind me.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Of what?”

  “Of everything.” I pulled her closer, my hips still rocking into hers. “Whatever I forget, remember for me. If I ask, tell me. If I don’t, understand it’s not because I’m running from knowing but because I’m not strong enough. I-I don’t know how long these symptoms will last. That damn book said it could take years...” My jaw clenched with denial, but I forced myself to finish. “I don’t expect you to record every little thing, but please...” I rocked against her heat, her incredible body. “Remember the important bits. Remind me to keep trying, even if it seems like I’m failing. Tell me how I treat you, how I speak to you—teach me to be the man you deserve, and I’ll do it. Help me to be better.”

  She flinched, her eyes mirroring the sorrow that consumed me. She took a moment to reply, tears welling, making all the spaces inside me fill with haunted, harrowed things. Finally, she said firmly, almost coldly. “I promise.”

  I kissed her.

  She grabbed handfuls of my hair, holding on as my tongue dived deep and our kiss turned sharp and primitive. Both of us sealing the promise. Doing our best to convince ourselves that it would work.

  It would keep me with her.

  It would make me better.

  “Take me, Kas,” Gemma moaned, our heads dancing, our tongues tangling, our breathing matching in haggard rhythm.

 

‹ Prev