The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1)

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The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) Page 22

by Ashton, Chloe D.


  “Sounds like I was rather conventional,” she said, intrigued none-the-less. “But, for some reason, I gathered that much about myself already.” She offered a shy smile. “Forgive me for saying this, but it seems like we’re from two different plateaus, and just how we crossed paths is a wonder. I mean with me being so simple---”

  Shaking his head in disagreement, Jarrod murmured quietly, “Simple? No.” Then, she was lost in a sea storm again as he held her gaze. “You are and remain the most fascinating woman that I ever met. And you challenge me in ways that no one else ever has.”

  As if perturbed by his own private confession, he turned away before draining the remnants of the alcohol in his glass. Then, he stood abruptly. “Are you cold? While I know its summer, a cool draft does blow in on this part of the island from time to time.”

  “I am a little,” she confessed, grabbing her glass from the table, and struggled to regain her self-composure. While he lit the gas logs, she watched him, falling further into her hypnotic obsession.

  The flames leapt to life, but rather than returning to his seat, he kept standing alongside the fireplace, and soon, they both became lost in private thoughts.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she murmured, breaking the quiet spell. “Whose place is this?”

  “Mine,” he added, passing a look over his shoulder. “When I purchased Laramie Rock, I bought additional property here.”

  She frowned. “And the church?”

  “St. Augusta has been here since the late 1800’s. Originally, this part of the island was acquired by force by Italian conquistadors in 1763. As a settlement was established and later flourished, the church was erected in 1807. This part of the island is known as Los Augusta, and at one point, it was a thriving hacienda, complete with salt mines, coffee fields, and cattle.” He sighed heavily. “In the late 1900’s, the Spaniards conquered the area, and over the years, the place almost became nonexistent.”

  She paused in quiet thought.

  He was well-studied, that much was evident.

  “How did you come across it?” she asked, not able to hide her keen interest. “It doesn’t seem to be profitable for any type of commerce at all.”

  “St. Augusta needed backers and funding to keep programs for the locals. An associate of mine caught wind of it and passed this bit along to me.” He released a pent-up sigh. “And at that particular point in my life, when I was approached, I was in search of something.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me why, but, as soon as I saw this place, there was a connection. I sensed its desolation as much as it sensed mine. And I felt this deep need to give something back to it---to make it come alive again.”

  Again, she sensed his torment as she watched him from across the room. Tense, body rigid, he kept his back turned to her, and his deep struggle emanated from him. It was if he knew that he’d revealed too much about himself. He passed her another fleeting glance over his shoulder. “I guess that you can say that me and this place----we were both lost souls. In many ways, we still are.”

  Stunned by the poignancy of his words, she stayed silent. Then, she ventured to say, “Why do you say that---why do you feel that way?”

  When he faced her, the mask had slipped back into place, and his smile hardly reached his eyes. “Enough about that. After our long ride over here, the last thing I want is to bore you with such mundane details.”

  “I’d say the contrary,” she said shyly. “They’re not mundane details. I love learning things about you.”

  For a moment, he was silent, and then he said, “Perhaps I’m more of an enigma than you’d care to unravel.”

  And that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth.

  Everything about him…

  She was fascinated beyond reason.

  In many ways, she was like a thirst-starved woman, desperate for a fill.

  Striding across the room with his usual sexy gait, he was the cool, confident playboy again. Then, giving her a brief smile, he said, “Since we’re all relying on me for safe passage, I think that relaxing is the tall order for the moment. Don’t you agree?”

  “I suppose so.”

  As he settled on the sofa beside her again, she took a sip of her drink, striving to appear unaffected by his closeness. But, while no part of him touched her, he exuded a sensual vibrancy that she found difficult to ignore. Not only that. Every little aching nuisance of his being was permanently etched in her memory.

  Like the smoothness of his hands, she marveled, staring at the large one resting against his strong thigh. The tautness of his jaw line, firm lips, and mesmerizing green eyes…

  Tipping the glass back, she risked a fast glance, only to find him perusing her with a deep stare.

  A shiver chased through her.

  Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t break away from their visual hold.

  For there was enough fire to burn them both to a cinder.

  “W-what is it?” she whispered, struggling to ignore her torpedoing heartbeat. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he rasped unsteadily, and for a fleeting second, his guard was down. “Unfortunately, everything is so right- so right about you. When I look at you, and see everything that---”

  As his words ended, she sensed his private struggle, and then, his next words were curt and short. “It’s been a long journey. Think it’s time to just call it a night.”

  “Jarrod, I don’t understand. It seems like we were making headway, and then you just pulled back,” she said, laying a hand against his knee. “What’s wrong?”

  Releasing a frustrated sigh, he stood abruptly. “I have to go.”

  She nearly dropped the glass as she struggled to stand. “Where are you going?”

  “There are a few things that I didn’t discuss with Father Santos earlier, and it can’t wait until morning,” he said gruffly, avoiding her gaze. “I want you to stay here---”

  “At this hour?” she frowned, slapping the goblet onto the table, and was rewarded with a fresh bathing of alcohol along her hand. “Well, if that’s the case, I’m going with you.”

  “The hell you are. Does it seem like I’m in the mood for any company?” Cursing under his breath, he crossed to the bar, and then, keeping his back to her, he lifted the bottle of bourbon. Throwing his head back, he took a fast swig before placing it down. “Rosa will get the other bedroom ready for you. Get some rest. We have an early start tomorrow.”

  In a few strides, she’d crossed the room to him. “Again, why are you being so selfish about this? Look at me,” she demanded angrily, whirling him around to face her. “What are the rules now? Have they changed again? I get too close---you pull back. Is that the timeless game that we’re set to play?” She released an exasperated sigh. “For weeks, I’ve danced to your beat, taking what little attention or affection that you wanted to give. This solo rendition act that you have going, it’s not fair. Because guess what---this is about the both of us.”

  “Simplistic and limited---a world shrouded in only black and white---that’s your entire perspective of things, isn’t it, Olivia? I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart. But in my world, I only exist within the shadows, and nothing is ever really certain. Don’t ever make the mistake of placing labels on me or thinking that I fit into a perfect mold. What about you, sweetness?” he taunted, and the fire leapt in his green eyes. Reaching out, he grasped the back of her nape in a sensual hold, and as he did, she lost her very breath. “What is it that you want?”

  “You have it all figured out, don’t you?” she challenged, bracing shaky hands against his chest, and pure heat seared her at the touch. “A few harsh words and short-tempered outbursts---am I supposed to be impressed by that? Or cower in fear from the big bad wolf? Maybe we both have it wrong. Perhaps it’s not me, but you struggling to find some worth or acceptance.” Her laugh was breathless. “I have to ask this again. When will I ever be exposed to the real Jarrod Sabatino, not this closed-off stranger who’s afraid to open up to anyo
ne! But, guess what? I’ve always been able to see past the façade. And that’s what you’re afraid of---that I’m getting too close to you.”

  A dangerous glint flared in his eyes. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And don’t even take the stance to think that you even know me at all---”

  “But, isn’t that the point?” she asked with a hint of desperation, digging her fingers into his hard chest. “I’m supposed to know you. You are the man that I’m desperately in love with----”

  At his stunned expression, she fell silent.

  While he did, the boldness took over her, and even she didn’t know where that part of her was coming from. “And you asked me what I wanted---and that’s you. I want you. I want you to tell me something,” she whispered tearfully. “And please, whatever you do, don’t lie to me.”

  His tortured gaze met hers. “What?”

  “Why did you lie to Javier? Why didn’t you mention our engagement? In fact, you were rather formal when you made the introductions.”

  “What do you mean? I didn’t fucking lie---I just didn’t mention it,” he muttered, turning away. “There’s no point in making a huge ordeal----”

  “What?” She stayed him with a hand. “Why wouldn’t I make it one?” she asked again, and the hurt played through her. “How can we be on the verge of sharing a life together, and you won’t even share the news with your closest friends?”

  “It’s complicated, damn it,” he said, blowing a frustrated breath. “And I’ve told you that countless times before---”

  She shook her head. “No, there’s more to it than that, and I want to know why.” Then, the realization dawned. “Is it because of what I’ve done to hurt you in the past? My betrayal---is that why you won’t let me get close to you?”

  A tense silence filled the room.

  He wouldn’t even look at her.

  Her words were a tearful whisper. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? You really don’t want us to get close again,” she accused him. “But, you’re too late, Jarrod. In my deepest heart, I know you. I know you, even the part that you’re trying to hide from me.” She stared across the room. “For so long, I’ve been chasing the parts of myself that I don’t remember. Now, I’m realizing that I’ve been chasing you as well. Just when I think that we’re getting somewhere, you pull back.” Sucking in a deep breath, she turned away from him, and then crossed her arms defensively along her chest. “It hurts like hell when you push me away. But, still, I can’t help wanting or needing you. When you get close to me, all I want you to do is take me in your arms, and there’s a bond---a connection between us. I sense it…feel it. It’s the only thing that’s real to me.” A tear slipped free. “I don’t understand why you won’t let me in.”

  “Olivia,” he rasped unsteadily.

  Voice trembling, her words were barely audible. “And you---you feel our connection, too. That’s why for months, there’s been this push and pull between us. You are so afraid of it---us. And that’s what I don’t understand. We’re together---engaged to be married. So, why are things this way between us? Are you afraid to place that high level of trust in me again? If so, I’m sorry. But, you have to give me the opportunity to make it right---no matter what it is that I’ve done.”

  As she turned to him, a poignant pause stretched.

  In his tortured gaze, she sensed his inner demons.

  She grew teary-eyed again. “And today, you wanted to make love to me---I wanted to make love to you. Please don’t lie and say that you didn’t.”

  “Olivia, if only I could---”

  “If only you could what, Jarrod?” she whispered, stopping before him again. “Pretend that you’re not afraid? Pretend that you’re not affected by our closeness when you really are?” Crying freely now, she grasped her head with shaky hands. “I wish that I could remember what happened before the accident. I’d give anything for things to be different. B-but, while things are so uncertain, clarity exists. And that clarity is you.”

  “Then, God help you, Olivia Lange, because I’m the last one that you should be your guiding compass.” Blowing a fast breath, he raked a hand through his hair. “I have to get out of here.”

  “Jarrod, wait,” she sobbed, grasping his hand. “We’ll never have a breakthrough---”

  “Damn it, Olivia!” he muttered angrily, pulling free. “I just want to be left alone.” In a few quick strides, he reached the door. “Whatever you do, don’t wait up for me.”

  As he slammed the door behind him, she fell apart. “Oh God,” she cried, sinking down onto the sofa again. “Why is this happening? Why?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Startled, she jumped around, only to find a concerned Rosa standing by the sofa.

  “Rosa, I don’t think that things will ever be okay,” she sobbed, hugging a pillow close to her body. “And I’m just trying to understand him.”

  Rosa sighed. “Unfortunately, Jarrod is a hard man to understand.” Then, she took the seat beside her on the sofa. “And while that may be so, you shouldn’t give up. He needs you just as much as you need him.” The woman patted her hand. “Listen to me. I’ve known Jarrod a long time, and sometimes, it’s just hard for him to relate to other people.”

  “Why?” she sniffed, brushing the tears with the back of her hand. “Has he always been this hardened?”

  “Life,” Rosa said, shaking her head before blowing a fast breath. “Forgive me for saying this, and I’m a woman of faith, but it’s been so unfair to Jarrod in so many ways---cruel and debasing at times. It’s been difficult for him to hold onto the beauty of grace because of it.”

  “But, why is he blaming me?” she asked, turning to the woman. “It’s as if he’s holding me responsible for the bad that’s taking place in his life.”

  Shaking her head, Rosa frowned. “No, it goes deeper than that. Jarrod’s troubles aren’t that transparent, and certainly, I have no right to divulge the private things that are troubling him.” Firming her lips, the woman stared at her straight. “You’re good for that boy, and he’s good for you. While it may not be my place to say this, I want you to fight with everything in you to make this thing work between you.” Sighing, the woman stood again. “Now, I’m going to get the other bedroom ready. Meghan’s down for the night and probably won’t be up until morning. I’ll be sleeping at the church, so if there’s anything that you need beforehand, let me know, alright?”

  With those words, the woman left the room.

  Leaving the sofa, she crossed the room before stopping before the fireplace. “Fight for us?” she whispered, staring into the dying flames. “How can I fight for us if he won’t let me in?”

  Chapter 13

  The pale moon hung in the dark sky.

  At different angles, the tiny stars sparkled like jewels, but not a single cloud waltzed through. A splash of white light bathed the ground, and in the darkness, his misshapen figure resembled the inner monsters within him.

  As he walked, his shadow led the way, taking him along the broken cobble-stone path leading to the church. No water cascaded from the angel fountain that rested on the right side of the path, and that’d be the next minor fixing on the roster, he mulled, giving it a fast perusal. But, the wildflowers that he and the clergy had planted months before, they sprung from the grass in all their beautiful colorful glory, and lined the edges of the path with perfect precision.

  Though the jaunt was short, with each breath, it seemed that it was difficult to breathe as he drew closer. The air constricted in his lungs, and finally, realizing that he was holding it, he forced himself to take a calming breath.

  The path ended.

  With all it grandiose wonder, the church stood before him.

  Before his riddled nerves could stop him, he took the short steps.

  When reached the church’s door, he hesitated.

  The rust-colored awning cast a shadow along the door, and from the looks of the badly peeling white paint, it was way o
verdue of a fresh coating.

  And just how long he stood there….

  Was it seconds…minutes?

  Taking a shaky hand, he grasped the knob, but still didn’t turn it.

  How long had it been since he’d actually stood before a church, needing it for his own personal redemption? For the longest time, hadn’t he lost the connection to it? “What am I doing here?” he whispered in the darkness, dropping his hand. “This is crazy.”

  Then, by miraculous design, the door opened and he found himself facing Father Santos.

  “Jarrod,” the sixtyish clergy said patiently, giving him a kind smile, and already, his light brown eyes held a knowing look. “What brings you here?”

  “Earlier when we talked, things were a bit hectic, especially with me trying to get Meghan settled in and everything else,” he said hastily, almost stumbling over the words. Even he wasn’t enough of a cad to lie to a man of the cloth. “Just wanted to touch base and make sure that there wasn’t anything more we needed to discuss in regard to further renovations.”

  “Again, Jarrod, I can’t thank you enough for your personal contributions, and without you, I doubt that this place would be operable let alone standing. Perhaps you’re right,” Father Santos replied, opening the door wider. “Our conversation, coupled with our ramblings with Javier, it was rather short. And we didn’t catch up on a lot of things. Come in, won’t you?”

  He stared past the priest and onto the interior of the semi-darkened church.

  The stained glass windows hang high within the tall 10’feet ceilings, colorful yet serene, boasting a beautiful richness that was indescribable. In synchronized rows, the pews stretched, positioned in straight angles from the front to the back of the church.

  A narrow aisle led to the pulpit, and he spied another clergy sitting at the first pew. The lights were dimmed low, casting a calming spirit amidst the surroundings.

 

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