Broken (Reapers Reign, #1)

by Maree, Aleisha

  The breeze picks up. I pull the zipper up on my leather jacket, pull my hood from my sweater underneath, up over my head and lay my head back. A whip of the night’s air washes over me with the assaulting scent of apples and rain. Of course she’s here. My lips curve up in a small smirk as I allow sleep to finally break through and wash over me.

  I wake to the bright sun and sharp pain of being ripped up off the ground by God knows who. I squint, the sun assaulting my raw eyes. “What the fuck?” I say. “Who the hell are you?”

  I turn in the grip to see a police officer. “Mr. Knox Ambrose, you are under arrest for the death of a Miss Sarah-Jane Briggs. Suddenly my Miranda rights are being read.

  “What the fuck is this?” I say. “Say what? I’m what? I don’t understand what is going on here. I’m getting arrested?” I’m not sure how this is happening or why, but then, in the corner of my eye, I see how and why. John Briggs and his new posse, the jock squad. ‘Just fucking great,’ I mouth. Just what I needed. Pushing me towards a waiting cop car, my head is pounding and the light is burning at my retinas blinking away the water pooling there. I try to wrap my brain around just why this is happening. Pushing me into the back of the waiting car I smile up at John and the jock squad. “You’ll keep,” I mouth out to them as the officer shuts the door on me. I see John’s lips moving but I can’t hear what he is saying, winking up at Dan as Clarke stands behind him and the other jocks are waving like it’s one big fucking joke. Ooh well boys, we will see who has the last laugh.

  I’m sitting in a cold room, lit by a dim fluorescent light, thanking the small miracle that it’s not bright. I seem to be nursing a freaking mint hangover and, by the sounds of it, a murder charge to boot. I lay my head down and wait for whatever they have to hit me with. I hear footsteps and a pause behind the door, then it opens and someone enters. I don’t bother to look up. What good will it do anyway. I’m no one. John, he is someone and they will listen to him. “Mr. Ambrose,” I hear as a chair scrapes along the hard, cold floor. “Excuse me, Mr. Ambrose. I would like you to look up at me when I speak,” says a quiet female voice.

  I raise my eyes just slightly. My raw eyes meet the softness and innocence of hers.

  “Why would you want that? I have nothing to say. And no need to hear anything any of you have to say. I killed her, that’s what you want to hear, so that’s just what I’ll tell you all. So just charge me, and leave me be.” I tell her coolly, placing my head back down into my arms, blocking her and the damn light from me.

  “Well that’s just dandy, isn’t it?” She says. “Pity I’m not a cop! So, what you just said has no effect on me. I am your lawyer; the best money can buy. So, please sit up and let’s start again, shall we?”

  Over the next few weeks, I am up and down, in and out. I make bail, thanks to the cut-throat lawyer that June has gotten me. I keep myself locked away for most of the time, away from them, from their eyes, feelings, questions. Training is all I want to do; there I escape inside to the dark part of my soul. I want to be stronger, faster, fitter, bigger, harder so when it’s time, I’ll be ready and willing to break them. I will rip them limb from limb. I will wait till the smoke clears, and they think that they are safe. Did they think that by doing this, that they could breathe easy and rest? Boy are they wrong! There will be jail time for me, no doubt about it, but that’s ok. It will give me even more time to train my body and my mind to be the demon that I’m surely going to become. I said that I would destroy anyone who harmed her, well, they not only sought her and I out, but killed her just as much as I did that night. The aftermath to follow from that split-second has had a ripple effect on all around me. I have lost so much, my love, my heart and my need to breathe. It's damn dark in my mind right now. I’m lost feels like I am just treading water, waiting for the outcome of this hell I’m living. If only I was left alone to plot how I would wreak my revenge on these dickwads. Now I’m looking at ten years in prison. Isn’t the pain of losing all that made sense in my world enough? Not according to John Briggs, it isn’t. I would love to know what he and the jocks are planning.

  Sitting alone at night by her grave, with nothing but the twinkle of the stars above, the glimmer of little lights lining the graves brings me dark comfort night after night. I lay here, head bowed low, swigging cognac from the bottle. I allow all the anger, hatred and sorrow to seep into me, fill me. Feed the beast that’s rising inside me. I can feel it. I make dark promises and weep blood red tears for my angel with the pure white wings...

  There are endless meetings with the lawyer, going over the same old things, telling the same story, the same version of events that led to that night. The damage that they had done to her prior to seeking us out. But of course, it’s their word against mine. I’m a nobody from Brooklyn and they are... well, they are preppy boys who get all they want, and all that old money can buy. My last night is somber, the air is laced with sadness and a dark cloud. I have tea with everyone and then slip away to sleep my final night with her, purple roses, cognac, a heavy soul and a shell of who I used to be. Nan nabs me just outside the door, the pain written all over her face is raw. I can barely look at her, it’s been a long time since I have seen so much pain on her beautiful face. I wish that I wasn’t the cause of its return, but I am. I kiss her cheek, “I’m so sorry Nan.”

  Her finger comes up to my lip. “None of that Knox. We will get through this. I have been to war for this family many times, we will be ok, so please don’t worry about us. I need you to stay strong in this fight. You need to fight with your mind Knox, only your mind, not with your fists. We will be here waiting for you when your day comes. You need to drop all the pain and anger, son. It’s burdening you. She will not blame you for the past. God will have his penance on their souls, not you, do you hear me? I know what you think. I hear what you say when you don’t think we are around. I see you at night, weeping into that bottle, laying at her grave. You need to break that cycle, rewire, come out anew. It’s hard. You don’t want to hear it, and you brush me off as overbearing, that’s ok too, I know, deep down, that you have the same answers, just that you are dragging yourself through the thick mud of anger. Whatever comes, sweet boy, will be, and we just have to find a way to put each foot forward, heads up and walk on. I love you, no matter what, nothing can change that.”

  She kisses my cheek, wraps me in one of her hugs that makes you warm and smell of honey. I smile, breathe in deep. “When did you become so wise, old lady? You're too good to us boys.”

  She playfully whacks my arm. “Shoo with you. Cheeky sod, away you go. Go and see if she can calm your mind one last time.” I walk away. Sleeping Beauty’s waiting. The hardest thing about that is that she will not awaken with a kiss.

  Walking through the cemetery, I leave dew-crusted footprints behind me. I reach the spot under the big tree, crack open the cognac, and speak to her. For come dawn, I will be a different man, no longer this Knox Ambrose, instead I will be cold and harsh, unforgiving to all around me.

  “Angel, I am so lost without you. How do you suppose I get through this? I just want to fight them, to hear you, your voice. Do you see me, Angel, do you? Come out, come see me, help me. ” I don’t want my family to have to live through me going to jail. Isn’t it enough that Kash and I had to deal with my Mom and Dad getting thrown in there over and over again? Until the last time when Mom could just not take any more; tiny twins, a drug habit so strong that she battled daily with demons that ran deep, something always consuming her. Dad away for killing her dealer because he had sold her a bad dose of smack, which sent her into the unknown for what felt like months to us kids.

  I’ve always had the urge to shelter Kash and try to keep him clean from this. You know fourteen minutes older makes you the protector, his savior, my baby brother didn’t need to see any more than what he had already. I’ll be his eyes, for now. I had felt a need to wash his memory clean, get him out of there. Dad was losing it, drinking into an oblivion. Mom was tied to a bed, one
of her friends here trying to drag her back out through the smack-filled hole she was stuck in, when the front door flies open with a loud crack. The dealer had come back again crazed, wanting money or Mom’s special payment as he calls it. I knew what that was. Dad though, he didn’t but, by the look on his face, he’d worked it out now.

  I saw the rage fill him that night. Anger consumed him. I had hidden Kashie in the cupboard under the stairs, our safe spot. Then I had gone out to help Dad, he fought the dealer. I was hit in the head, flying back, my tiny frame weighing five eighths of nothing. Wet, I had slid along the grimy floor. There was a lot of yelling, hitting, bodies sprawling, fists flying spitting, hissing. I had scrambled to my feet to help my Dad, but, as I’d moved, I saw something shiny flicker, then a loud boom and the drug dealer fell down into a heap of dirty clothes, a small pool of blood forming around his lifeless body as my Dad wiped his hand over his mouth.

  “Knox, go to your brother” That was the last time I ever saw my Dad.

  He got taken away a while later, the friend with Mom had cleaned her up and told the police Mom was sick from the smack hence the dead dealer. She was here to watch us while she gets better and that it’s okay, not to take us, so they don’t. Months passed and Dad didn’t come home, Mom got worse, the friend said she was going to the shops, but she never returned. Mom got high night after night, dealer after different dealer, then one day, we come home from school to find her laying there with a needle in her arm, a note by her side.

  My beautiful boys, I’m so sorry. Knox, watch over Kash forever, protect him. His soul is too kind for this world. You need to live with your Nan and Pa. Tell them, I am sorry. Tell them, I wish I could have been better for them. I love you, my sweet boys, Xo-Mom.

  “Nan told us that Dad killed himself in there. He wanted to be with Mom after she left. Gutless, I say, but who am I to judge? I feel the same about living here, alone right now, but I don’t have boys that need me.” I’m quiet for a moment. “So, you see, Angel, nothing has ever come without hurt. You though, you were my oasis, the one place that was pure, not tainted by this cruel world. Looking up at the moon as I take a long pull on the Cognac. I just fall back, pulling my jacket up over me and settle in for my last night of sleeping at the graveside of my first and only love.

  My mind slips from the dark cold now, to the warm passion that swarms around me when she is here, that love that I had always longed for since the day my Nan showed me that good things could be in my future for me and I can be loved. I found a love so perfect for me, so beautiful and sweet but my fists stole it. Falling deeper into her arms, I dream sweet dreams of her eyes and hands holding mine. Forehead kisses and nights sitting on the hood of my car at Dove’s Peak, watching the world below, just loving each other.

  I awaken at first light. I lay still, breathing in the smell of the outside, sucking it into my lungs, closing my eyes and rolling over onto my stomach, pulling up onto my elbow. I look at the grass below me that’s starting to form over my Angel’s resting place. Leaning down, I place a kiss at the base of her headstone, where her sweatpants and top lay, the ones she’d worn to my fight. “I love you, Angel, when it’s my time will you forgive me and fly me up on silver light to be with you? To be whole again? Till that day comes, I’ll walk broken in dark pieces. I’ll be strong. I’ll be the fighter you need me to be. Goodbye sweet girl. I’ll see you soon.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Knox

  Sentencing day

  I walk up the front steps of my home. Kash is sitting outside, his nose in a book. I smack it up to hit his nose. “Jeez brother, you will become one soon,” I laugh, it’s the only way I can shield him from the uncertainty and pain. I have let him down this time. I know that he will be ok but the sense of failure doesn’t lessen.

  He looks up and smiles, “Sure brother, you’re just jealous I can read. Ladies like ‘em, smart, you know.” He says it with a smile playing at his lips. Shit, he wouldn’t know what to do if a woman came at him...

  “HA, sure they do, Kashie. I’m heading in for a shower.”

  As I take the step up, I hear a response, “Don’t drop the soap now, you hear me.” What the hell? I spin. It’s Jamie, cracking up with the boys.

  “Really funny, boys, really funny!”

  These guys really take the edge off. I leave them behind and walk inside. I shower and just smother my body in the hot steam. I know that this will no longer be just my time to waste. I’ll be on their clock from now on. Once I’m done, I pull the towel off the rail and I scrub it over my face. I look up and see a message written in the steam on the mirror, Ditto. Walking over, I place my head onto the cool glass writing with my finger, “Always ditto, always.” She is here, she sees me, hears me. It brings a pang of hurt that takes the air from my lungs as I head out to change into the suit Nan has laid out on my bed. Looking around, I breathe in the smell of home, for I don’t know just when I will see it again.

  The drive into town is ok, but too many thoughts are running through my head. We pull up outside and I jump out so that I can help my Nan. I see my lawyer arrive and June hot on her heels. Greeting them as we meet up, I pull June into a hug. She smells like Sarah-Jane, it unnerves me instantly as the boys walk up behind me. We all head into the court house. As we enter, I see Dan, Clarke, the honorable Mr. Briggs, sitting in the gallery looking smug with themselves.

  “Hit me with all you have, boys,” I whisper. “I’ll lay in wait. I will allow the walls to cave in around me, I’ll crawl up them and I’ll come for you. I’m not afraid, fear is not a part of my DNA, but you sad-sacks have plenty. I can smell it!” I seethe out through gritted teeth loud enough to just put the chills up their backs. I know it works as Clarke’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows. He knows he’s not as thick and amped up as the other two twats. I flick them a wink and, with my boys on my heels, I take my seat to see the fate I shall be given today.

  The judge enters and there is a lot of talking; evidence, them on the stand, me on the stand, my accounts do not match theirs. Go figure, of course they damn well don’t. My lawyer is cutthroat. She may be little, but she is loud. She makes good points, makes fools out of the jock squad. John is a little harder, he has danced this bullshit story before. She does slip him up on a few things, pulls him up on the threats, and beating me at the hospital and his response was that he threatened me first. She slams him with, “Well that is your word against his now, isn’t it Mr. Briggs? As all of you have been using that line so keenly today, his word against yours and he’s not the one on hospital camera, now is he?” A smirk flashes across my lips. She’s good. I’m liking this little spitfire more and more.

  After what seems like forever in there, the judge excuses the jury to take leave to go over things. They will come back with their verdict. We all know it will go their way. I’m a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. I’ll take what I get, like the man my Pa raised.

  Sitting across from the courthouse in a diner as they all chatter nervously around me, I eat, or at least I try to eat, but shit, just the smell of it makes my stomach turn. I stick to coffee; strong and black, no sugar. The bitter taste a welcome attack on my taste buds. My lawyer slips in easy to our clique, like she is just one of us. She seems to think that I won’t get too long but we’ll see now, won’t we? Isn’t she paid to say that shit? I sit there watching as the New York City carries on around us. People in and out, running here and there, chores and errands, dates and lunches, shopping and coffee stops. They are all living and happy. I’m lost and dark, jumping at the sound of my lawyer’s phone ringing, not even realizing how on edge I am until that one instant where my heart stops at the tiniest sound.

  Wiping my hands that are sweaty and hot down my suit pants, I pull on my best I’m ok smile, stand and wrap my arms around my Nan before walking back to the courthouse, towering over her tiny wee Italian frame and sitting her down in her seat behind mine. I kiss the top of her forehead and I wink at my boys.

&
nbsp; Time’s up. I feel hot and tight in my chest, like I can’t breathe. I hate this feeling. I hate being helpless and so fucking broken. The judge walks in and takes her seat, flicking through her files as the jury files in through the door at the side. They sit down in their seats. I look each one in the eye with a small nod of acknowledgment that it’s ok to hate me. I am the monster you tell your children to watch out for. The honorable judge is rattling off the accounts of the night. I lapse back into a memory of her, that night, carefree, laying with her head against my chest, nestled between my legs, smelling of sweet apples and rain; that smell will haunt me forever. Memories hurt like Hell’s touch. Maybe I will sell my soul to the Devil so I no longer have to feel the burn of all that is lost to the darkness, broken into unmendable pieces.

  “Mr. Ambrose, it is with a heavy heart that I hand down to you today a sentence for a crime that should never have happened. With the evidence that I have heard, I see that there was a lot of wrongs done here but you still fought and was caught for it. These other men have no such markings on them. As you yourself have pointed out, they would have been received but may have cleared up on the night in question. They say, all of them, that they were trying to stop you from assaulting Miss Briggs, that night and they couldn’t. They have said that you were irate, wild and attacked them, that they had fled for their own safety. I see that there was a lot of love shared between yourself and deceased as it's apparent in the statements from your family and her mother and her friends, but I can’t allow that to cloud the jury’s judgment. You still assaulted a female, causing severe, unrepairable damage resulting in death, the daughter of a senator. With that being said, Jury? What say you in the case of state against Mr. Knox Ambrose, Assault and battery causing death?”