Bend, Don't Break

by Skye Callahan

  Bend, Don't Break

  Irrevocable, Volume 2

  Skye Callahan

  Published by Skye Callahan, 2014.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Bend, Don't Break (Irrevocable, #2)

  Foreword

  Chapter 1 Alive

  Chapter 2 Win, Lose, or Dominate

  Chapter 3 No Escape

  Chapter 4 Fighting to Make Peace

  Chapter 5 Drowning in my Past

  Chapter 6 Shattered

  Chapter 7 Friends in Disparate Places

  Chapter 8 Becoming Kirk

  Chapter 9 Fated Thorn

  Chapter 10 Reunion

  Chapter 11 Fighting Stubborn with Stubborn

  Chapter 12 A Raini End

  Chapter 13 Dangerous Game

  Chapter 14 Who Needs a Knight?

  Chapter 15 So Much for Pretending

  Chapter 16 Targeted

  Chapter 17 Release the Dark

  Chapter 18 Friends, Lovers, and Fiends

  Chapter 19 Traitor Within

  Chapter 20 Tenuous Ground

  Chapter 21 No Room

  Chapter 22 All That’s Left

  Chapter 23 Consuming the Darkness

  Epilogue

  Bend, Don’t Break Playlist

  Bend Don’t Break

  By Skye Callahan

  Copyright 2014 Skye Callahan

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events and locations is entirely coincidental.

  Published: Skye Callahan

  November 17, 2014

  United States of America

  Cover art by Skye Callahan

  Copyright 2014

  Stock Images used acquired from Depositphotos

  Tender romantic young lovers @ nelka7812

  Silver heart and chain isolated on black: ADDRicky

  Foreword

  When I started writing Irrevocable, I had no intention for the story to go beyond that single book. Even though James was the first character from the story to appear to me, I told the entire story through Rose’s eyes because there was information that James had that was best left unrevealed. The struggle for survival was best told through the eyes of a girl who suddenly found herself losing mercy and at the mercy of a man she couldn’t quite figure out.

  Not until she learned his secrets.

  Just weeks before the release Irrevocable—after copies had gone out to advance readers for review and the final proofreading was happening—James decided that he wanted more. Then, readers expressed an interest to know more about him.

  As everything came together, I realized that although Rose’s story was done, and she’d told her happy ending with James as she experienced, there were bits of the story that she didn’t know or didn’t share; because although they were part of the story, they were parts best understood through James.

  And the idea for Bend, Don’t Break was born.

  Since you already know most of the story from the Retreat, I didn’t want to do a simple retelling from James’ point of view. I wanted to give you something new, allowing James to express his interpretation of events and explain his motivations while addressing new issues.

  I feel that there’s so much to learn about this couple before they got their happy ending—and maybe a little more to their happy ending than you already know. That’s why James and I decided to begin his story just after the raid (Irrevocable, Chapter 21).

  After the raid on the Retreat, thrust back into the real world—into his old life without the object of his desire—this is James’ story....

  Chapter 1

  Alive

  “How many women did you have sex with while you were there?”

  It was the third time Dr. Combs had asked me that question. And for the third time, I wanted to avoid it.

  I had just gotten out of that hell, and I still had the bullet hole in my chest to prove it, but it didn’t stop my boss from pushing the psychiatric evaluation. What he expected it to accomplish right now, I had no clue—I was tired, cranky, and I didn’t give a damn about getting my old job back.

  Dr. Combs cleared her throat, and my jaw clenched. Some things were left unspoken—better suited to the imagination of nightmares and horror movies than to be discussed openly with any other living person.

  I didn’t even want to admit the number of women to myself; even though I could see every one of the girls in my mind.

  Kat, the red-headed braggart who thought she owned every man who walked into the Retreat.

  Gabby, the indignant curly haired brunette.

  Raini, a gorgeous but frail girl who was transferred in right after I went undercover. I had feared that one more night in Ross’ bed would kill her before her first week was up.

  Alley, a blond sweetheart who belonged to Miles, my unconventional friend.

  Silver, the girl who simultaneously ruined and saved me.

  She was the only reason I was alive, and the only reason I had what was left of my soul—except she wasn’t real. Like my undercover alias, Kirk, she was forged from necessity and determination. Now she was gone, and that missing piece was more painful than the hole the bullet had ripped through my side.

  That crazy, obstinate woman wouldn’t back down. During the raid on the “sex retreat”, Ross had turned the gun on me, but she knocked him off balance and I ended up with a graze along my left side rather than a hole through my heart. The bullet splintered two ribs in the process, and left a long and bloody gash, but they’d managed to clean it up in surgery, and so far it was healing without complications.

  Now, somewhere out there Rose was learning to live her own life again.

  At least that’s what I hoped. The day after I was shot, my superiors had me transferred to another hospital and put under protective custody until they were sure I was “safe”.

  I was fairly positive they were more concerned that any real threat to my life would come from me since there were very few people who knew of my undercover involvement in the operation.

  The only company I was allowed was Dr. Combs, my new shrink. I didn’t want a shrink. I wanted the woman who saved me—the only person who stood a chance of bringing me any kind of peace.

  The woman I could never have.

  All I wanted to do was close my eyes and wait for the doctor to leave. But that would put me in a worse situation since she’d just report me for being difficult.

  One fucking week.

  I still had a hole in my fucking side for Christ sake.

  “I want to talk to Trent—this no visitor thing is bull shit.”

  “It’s for your own safety, and we can’t do anything until you cooperate.”

  “Don’t preach to me about cooperating.” One of the machines next to me screeched and a stabbing pain radiated through my arm, but I’d felt much worse. “I gave up my life to do what was asked of me and I succeeded.”

  “You need to relax,” she warne
d, reaching a hand toward me.

  I shook it off as best as I could in my current condition. I didn’t fucking want to relax. I wanted what little I had of my life back.

  And, most of all I wanted someone I had no right to want.

  “James.”

  She was just going to stand there and keep yammering.

  “With all due respect, Doctor, fuck off.”

  “I’ll have to compile my preliminary evaluation before we can move forward. That’d go much smoother if you’d help me out.”

  Help. I guess as far as not listening—even for my own supposed good—I could give Silver a run for her money. I waited in silence as a nurse adjusted and silenced the beeping machine. Quiet moments of solitude ticked away—my respite from being expected to answer questions, but it didn’t last.

  “I don’t want to talk about the women,” I said when the door closed again. The steady stream of medication weighed down my body and softened my voice, so I didn’t sound as menacing as I intended. “I don’t much feel like talking about anything, but can we just skip the women and the fucking?”

  “All of the women?” Dr. Combs asked, with her usual flat exaggerated calm. “Or is there someone in particular you don’t want to discuss?”

  I figured pointing out that she was still talking about what I’d asked her not to—regardless of my answer—would be a waste of breath. “You know there is. How about you let me talk to her and I’ll answer any damn question you like?”

  I didn’t even have to glance over to know she was scowling. They wouldn’t let me see Trent, my best friend and contact during the investigation, I knew they sure as hell wouldn’t let me see Silver... Rose. I didn’t even know what the hell I was supposed to call her. She’d made it perfectly clear the few times I’d pressed about her past or used her real name that I had no role in that life.

  “She’s fine,” Dr. Combs assured me. “But I don’t think it would be in the best interest of either of you to see each other. You put yourself in a dangerous situation with her.”

  Put myself? Last I checked I wasn’t the one to drag her into the Retreat. “I kept her alive and slightly less broken than she would have otherwise been.”

  “The two of you adapted to a horrible situation, found comfort in each other—”

  I didn’t want to hear it.

  Stockholm Syndrome.

  I wondered if the captor could get it too. Was I even the captor? It seemed like I’d lost control of the situation long ago.

  But I’d still been the one to beat her, rape her, bend her will.

  Just like she’d bent mine.

  I wanted her back so badly I couldn’t breathe. The more we talked about it, the worse it got. The harsh reality of it all forced me to face the possibility that I had to walk away if I wanted to do what was in her best interest.

  “How long until I can talk to Trent?” I tried again, drawing back a modicum of control by changing the course of the conversation.

  Dr. Combs sighed and snapped her portfolio closed. “If it’ll get you to talk, I’ll make the arrangements on one condition.”

  I’d already sold my soul, there weren’t many more concessions I had left to give.

  “I need to know you’re not going to try to reach out to Rose—or anyone else.”

  Did that mean there was a chance she’d see me? Or was Dr. Combs convinced I’d stalk and abduct her anyway? That was quite a laughable possibility, but some sick-as-fuck part of me considered it. “How long are you going to dictate who I can talk to?”

  “As long as it’s in your best interest. You and Rose need time to heal—being together puts you at a higher risk to continue your relationship based on circumstances that are not ideal. You have to separate yourself from what you became and the things you did in order to survive.”

  Kirk and Silver no longer exist—she didn’t have to outright say it. James and Rose were strangers.

  “Four weeks,” Dr. Combs said. “Give it at least that long before we discuss the possibility of you two communicating. And even then, you have to face the possibility that it’s better for you both to move on separately.”

  “I know,” I growled. It was a tough pill to swallow, but I wasn’t going to force myself on her. Again. “And if that’s what she wants, I’ll give it to her.”

  “Because you’d give up just about anything to make sure she’s safe and happy?”

  There was a trap in that question, and even hyped up on whatever the doctors and nurses were feeding me, I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it. There wasn’t a right answer. Just like there hadn’t been a right answer when I’d found Silver in the basement with Gabe and his group of clods.

  “I’ll agree to your conditions.”

  “Are you going to be staying with Trent when you’re released?”

  “That’s a stupid question considering your refusal to let me talk to anyone.” I had somewhat of a plan—not one set in stone, but I had given up my apartment, left my belongings in storage and my car with Trent. I knew I’d be coming back to nothing. “I have a cousin nearby.”

  “Family would be good for you.”

  “That’s only a possibility if no one is coming after me. The last thing I’ll do is put my family in danger.” Especially since they had a two-year-old living there, too.

  “Lucky for you, they all think Kirk is dead. Bled out on the operating table.”

  “Lucky me,” I said drowsily. Kirk was dead. He was staying that way.

  But Dr. Combs assurance only really told me one thing—they were keeping me isolated because they didn’t trust me, not because they were afraid of someone coming after me.

  As promised, Trent came in the next morning, and my visitor restrictions were lifted—to an extent. The doctor’s new rules still only allowed for Trent and close family members.

  I rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes—running a marathon was less tiresome than laying in a bed for days on end, and the meds didn’t help. “Fucking hospitable of them to finally let me have visitors the day before I’m supposed to be released.”

  “I hear you’ve been quite the agreeable patient, too. It’s no wonder they won’t let you talk to anyone, they probably want to keep you around.” He wheeled over the tall stool from the corner and took a seat next to me. It was nearly eight in the morning, and no surprise, he was already dressed in his suit and tie—all ready for work. I think the thing he liked most about suits was the shocked expression he usually got when people saw below the layers of fabric. He had more tattoos than me, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear about a few new ones since the last time we’d actually been able to sit down and have a chat in person.

  Tattoos weren’t what I cared about though, and happy as I was to see my best friend, first I had to address the issue niggling at my mind.

  “Have you talked to Rose?”

  Trent grunted and sat back in a chair, propping his feet up on the bed frame. “Just jumping right to the point, eh? I’m not playing double operative for either of you.”

  “I’ll interpret that as a yes.”

  He glared back at me, but he’d given me enough to keep me sated for a while. I assumed that Dr. Combs had already informed him of the agreement.

  “I told Evan you’re allowed to have visitors,” Trent said, “he’s coming in as soon as Katie gets off work to stay with the Jack.”

  Jack, my cousin’s two-year-old son. I couldn’t even imagine how much he’d grown since I’d gone under. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to become a live-in babysitter.”

  “You’re good with children—dare I even say—”

  “Don’t.” It was difficult, if not impossible, to be intimidating when covered in wires and tubes.

  So, of course, he didn’t listen. “You like them.”

  Sure, as long as they belonged to someone else. Living with them was entirely different. But my other possibility was staying with Trent, dealing with his inconsistent work schedule, and sleeping on his
couch, which in my current condition didn’t sound appealing. Evan at least had a bed, and a quite nice bed as far as I remembered. And since I had a bullet hole in my chest, no one really wanted me staying by myself too long.

  Apparently I might fall apart without warning.

  I wasn’t going to complain yet. Aside from the locked up storage container, I didn’t have much of my own left, and time with my cousin—the only close family I had left—was an easy concession. Having his kid also around meant I wouldn’t be asked too many questions. Eventually, I figured I’d get tired of the attention, but for a little while having some things catered couldn’t be so bad.

  Trent sat forward, his shoes squeaking as his feet landed against the floor. “Was the opportunity to ask about Rose the only reason you wanted to see me?”

  “No, I also wanted to see a face that didn’t belong to a doctor or nurse, and who, hopefully, wouldn’t ask prying questions.”

  “I think I know as much as I need to at the moment. Until you’re able to file all of your reports anyhow.”

  “No getting out of that?” They already knew what they needed as far as I was concerned, but all of their questions made me wonder if I was now surrounded by sadists.

  “Just like there’s no getting out of talking to Dr. Combs,” he said coolly.

  I grunted and dug my head into the pillow. It wasn’t enough that she was in my head, now the doctor was recruiting my friends. “How much is she paying you to say that?”

  Trent shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. His gaze dropped and he straightened the cuffs on his sleeves. “You’ve been thinking about not coming back, haven’t you?”

  That was probably the sanest idea on my mind at the moment. “I’m thinking that I don’t have much left to lose and wondering where I should draw the line.”

  “You have time to figure it out. And—” he blew out a breath. “Don’t worry about Rose—I won’t play messenger or double agent, but I’m looking in on her.”

  Much as it pained me that it was him and not me, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d want taking care of her. “Does she also know you’re looking in on me?”