Shards of Us

by Caverly, KR

  "Tell me about the jobs you did," I whisper. He opens his mouth to tell me no almost immediately, but I cut him off. "Tell me, Sebastian. I need to know who you are."

  This sets him off. Before I know what's happening, he lifts his hand up from tickling at the soft skin of my thighs and latches it onto my arm in one, quick instant. His grip is hard and crushing, and his eyes train on me, so intense it looks like he's going to snap. "You know who I am, angel," he growls. Cool air whips in through the window in that instant, sending a shiver down my spine, but with Sebastian holding me like this, my heart just keeps pounding. Mostly out of fear, but a sick, twisted part of me also feels too turned on. A part of me loves being his prisoner. "You know me. Don't you fucking think otherwise." His grip is crushing, tightening around my wrist, but it doesn't even hurt. Sebastian's made sure it doesn't hurt. He cares too much to hurt me, I realize.

  My head has already started throbbing, and the heat from Sebastian's body surges around me, like electricity in the air. I shift back in his lap, feeling suddenly so exposed without a shirt or bra on. "But--" I start to protest.

  His turn to cut me off. "Stop it," he roars. "Just stop it!" His grip is still tight around my arm, and I feel my body starts to shake, feel the familiar fear creep in. I stare into those tortured blue eyes of his, searching to find the Sebastian I love amid the bundle of anger. To find him, and then help heal him.

  "That's not fair," I whisper after a minute, my blood pounding in my ear. "How can I trust you if you can't trust me?"

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, I expect him to explode at me some more. In fact, I brace myself for the inevitable anger, but nothing comes. Instead, Sebastian stiffens. Releases his grip on my hand. I freeze, but the intensity in his gaze doesn't seem to want to leave. "You get one question, angel," he says in a low voice. "One. Make it specific. And then when we're done, we're going to fuck. Okay? I need you. I need you everywhere and I need you fucking now."

  I nod, wanting it so, so bad, and he reaches out a hand, stroking my dark hair all the way down to my breast. More tingles race through me, faster this time, because just the idea of having Sebastian inside of me again is almost too much to bear. "Okay," I whisper. I start to ask him about how many people he's killed, or why Marco wanted them dead, or anything sensible. But then my eyes lock on the scar on his jaw, the little slit where the skin never healed correctly. It looks like a knife wound, and I remember how defensive Sebastian got last time I brought it up. I know I need to know where it came from. I want to know. So I say, eyes locked on his, "Tell me one thing about that scar on your jaw."

  Sebastian looks ready to protest as soon as the words leave my mouth, but he doesn't. Doesn't move. Just stares at me, hard and strong, searching my eyes for some kind of sign, like he's debating whether it's right to tell me or not. It occurs to me then how many secrets Sebastian must be keeping from me, how, even after everything, I still don't really know who he is.

  Finally, Sebastian looks away, steely-eyed and staring out the window. I watch him intently, watch his every shift of his jaw, looking to figure out what it was that made the Sebastian who can't be scared so unnerved. "All I'll say," he says, his voice both quiet and intense at the same time. My heart races in my chest. "All I'll say is that it wasn't Marco who gave me the scar."

  This catches me by surprise.

  It wasn't Marco.

  The scar wasn't from Marco.

  Does that mean there are more people after him? Does that mean he's done more bad things than just what he told me? Does that mean--

  But before I have time to ask any questions, Sebastian's fiery gaze is trained on me again, and the need pours off of him like steam after a shower. "Now fuck me, angel," he growls. Just his words make my legs squirm. I try to keep focused on interrogating him, but the desire wins over all too easily. "Fuck me. Let me make you mine."

  I nod vigorously, letting all else slip away. I need to be healed, and so does he. And whenever we need to feel better, whenever we need everything else to go away, we always turn to each other. Our bodies are always the answer. Our bodies are the only things that know how to put the broken pieces of ourselves back together.

  I reach out and press myself against Sebastian, working to undo his tie, then his suit, and then the shirt beneath it. I work quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, as he starts slipping off my pants with those delicate fingers of his. Soon my breasts are pressed up against his rock hard and shirtless body, and I feel his erection tickling at my thighs as I work to slip off of his pants. They come off slowly, and the next thing I know, he's in his underwear and I'm in my panties, sitting in his lap, pressed against him. Sebastian's body is hot and sweaty, so muscular that it sends tremors throughout my body, and every part of me just wants to lick the sweat off of him, so much that I do. I press my lips to his chest, kissing him first, then letting my tongue slip and drag it across his chest, tasting him, loving him.

  Sebastian's erection gets harder and harder, and it feels like I'm burning up this close to him. As I kiss him, Sebastian leans back, trying to suppress a moan, slipping a finger back down my body, along my stomach and slowing at the sensitive skin at my thighs. Gently, he starts moving his finger back and forth. I squirm but keep kissing him, feeling the pressure building up inside of me, the need for him to slip inside of me becoming almost too much. I trail my kisses down his stomach, along those perfect abs of his, and I decide to tease him in return by stopping at the skin right above his cock, kissing slowly, teasingly, and I feel it stand up even straighter, pressing against my thighs. I let out a moan this time, wanting him so much, and suddenly, his grip tightens around me. He lifts me out of the chair and sets my body out on the kitchen table, standing above me, my body sprawled across the cool tile table.

  He crawls on above me, leaning his body over mine, dragging his fingers across my stomach as he reaches for my panties. I lean my head back and moan. My eyes stay focused on the ceiling as he expertly slips off my panties. The tension in my body builds up and builds up, and Sebastian slowly drags his finger across my hot, tingly skin as he reaches out and takes off his boxers, then slips on what looks to be a condom.

  Then, just like that, he's back on top of me, stark naked, his cock pressing hard and strong against my thighs. I lean my head back, wanting nothing more than for him to take me. All of the air in the room has completely disappeared, sucked out of me, just like that. There is nothing but the heat between us, the intensity in my body as Sebastian leans above me on the kitchen table and kisses me, hot and passionate, making my lips burn with desire. I kiss him like I need him to breathe. I kiss him like if I stop kissing him, the world will end. I kiss him because kissing him lets everything else melt away, sends wave after wave of tingles throughout my body.

  After a minute, Sebastian pulls back. My breathing is heavy and fast, and I feel Sebastian's hot breath above me as he leans forward and trails his kisses down to my breast, lingering there, making sure I feel everything. And then, slowly, he makes his way down to my stomach, stopping on my sensitive skin. I still feel the hardness of erection pressed against my body, making me squirm even more. The tension keeps building up and building up inside of me, sending tremors throughout my body. Sebastian pauses then, kisses me softer, slowly, nipping at my pale skin and causing me to moan. I can almost sense his smile. He's fully aware of how much this hurts me, how much my body needs him, wants him inside of me. He's teasing me, and he knows it.

  "Do it, Sebastian," I whisper, closing my eyes, my head falling back. Every part of me wants him in that instant. Every parts of me needs him inside of me. "Take me," I whisper, and then, he does. His cock goes inside of me slowly, teasingly, and then he's there. The ache in my body explodes as the orgasm whips through me. My eyes roll back in my head and I gasp, letting Sebastian inside of me, letting him own me, until everything else feels okay.

  "Do you feel that, angel? Do you feel me?" Sebastian growls through his groans, wrapping his arms aroun
d my naked body and kissing me as he goes in deeper.

  "Yes," I gasp out.

  "And do you want more?" He keeps moving around inside of me, driving deeper, and I just can't stop moaning.

  "Please," I pant out. "I want to feel everything."

  Sebastian smiles and presses himself against me, his naked body beside mine, his lips on my lips before I even know what's happening. "Here I am, angel," he whispers. "Here I am."

  Chapter Twelve

  Once we're finished, which is a while, Sebastian goes up to take a shower. I should probably join him too based on how hot my body feels from the sex, but I don't have the energy. I just lie on the couch, breathing heavily as I look up at the ceiling, smiling to myself. I keep replaying what just happened again and again in my head, thinking about the pure bliss Sebastian gave me that no one else has been able to. Kissing Sebastian makes everything better, heals the emptiness I've felt for so long. It's nice to have him, to have someone I can trust, to have someone to care about and feel safe with. Sebastian has made my life so much better, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. And for the first time since my parents died, I feel like I'm going to be okay. Like as his prisoner, his angel--with him protecting me--nothing can go wrong.

  Eventually, my mind drifts back to the scar on his jaw, the one he told me wasn't from Marco. I can't help but wonder where he got it from, and why. Did he betray someone else? Has he done more than just work for Marco? And why exactly is Marco after him, anyway, and more importantly, why is he after me too? I squeeze my eyes shut. There's so much I don't know. As much as I want to trust Sebastian, I don't know if I can. He isn't stable, that's for sure. He's bad. He's dangerous. He's corrupting me. And yet, I… kind of like it.

  I sit up, pad over to the refrigerator, and pour myself a glass of milk. The shower has stopped running, and I assume Sebastian will be down here any minute now, preferably without any clothing on. I take a sip of my milk, letting the cool liquid sneak down my throat, closing my eyes and sighing. Birds chirp outside and the sun has started to come out, and all in all, the day is nice. Peaceful. Quiet. I find myself wondering if I'm ever going to get out of here, if Sebastian is ever going to let me into the real world again, if he's ever going to trust that Marco won't find me. All of the doors in the house are locked--I've already tried them--and the only way out is to break through the window, which Sebastian knows I don't have the energy to do. And anyway, I'm not sure I want to leave, because trying to escape means leaving Sebastian, and I'm not leaving anyone else in my life. Especially him.

  So I just sit there and think, letting my mind drift back to the happy times before all of this happened, when my mom and dad were still alive and my dance career was still the fuel for my life. When I would smile, really smile, and not even care.

  I get so lost in my memories that I don't even hear Sebastian come down. Or hear the rumble of a truck driving down the road.

  Which is weird.

  Because this is the first truck that has driven this far down the road since… ever.

  "Angel." Sebastian voice is urgent but slow, like he's trying to keep calm. I'm still smiling from my thoughts when I turn to him, fully prepared to go up and wrap my arms around him and kiss whatever nerves out of him, when I see the look in his eyes. The fire. The… fear? And I find myself tensing up too. "We have to go," he says to me, dressed in his usual business suit, his hair still soaking wet from the shower. He glances back outside the window, at the sound of the truck approaching, and then stares back at me. "Now."

  I don't even bother to argue. I adjust my shirt and fast-walk after him as he unlocks the back door and leads me out. The sound of the truck gets closer and closer, and Sebastian grabs my arm as soon as I step into the garage, pulling me close. "Don't try anything," he whispers. "Stay with me. I'll save you."

  I nod. "Okay." But he doesn't seem to trust me enough to let his grip go. He walks quickly throughout the dark garage, not daring to turn the light on, eyes searching for something I do not know. Then, he seems to find it, because his pace slows.

  "This is one of my safe houses," he says, stopping in front of a car and pulling out a key. He unlocks the side door and hurries me inside. "I have lots of them. And in all of them, I always keep a backup car. Just in case."

  The truck slows in front of the house as Sebastian closes the door behind me, then gets into the driver seat. The whole garage is dark, and my heart starts pounding as the men approach. Last time, we barely escaped with our lives. I can't imagine what's going to happen this time.

  Sebastian reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. It takes me a minute to realize it's a handcuff. "What are you doing?" I hiss, eyes widening. I try to protest, to throw him off as he clamps his hand on mine and attaches one side of the cuff around my right hand, then the other to the car door, but he's too strong. I can't do anything but let him. My head aches some more and I desperately try to pull out of the handcuffs, to rip my way free, but they won't budge. Sebastian watches me sadly as he puts the key into the ignition. "I'm sorry," he says. "But I have to do this. I have to keep you safe. I won't let them hurt you, angel, and I can't risk you getting away."

  The sound of car doors slamming from somewhere outside fills the air, and Sebastian's eyes become vicious, his voice urgent. "Are you ready?" he says to me, turning his key. My heart rate picks up, and I try to jerk out of the handcuffs again, but they're too tight. There's no escape. I take in a deep breath, my body shaking.

  "Sebastian, please, let me out," I protest, biting back the tears. "Please just--" But before I know what's happening, Sebastian slams on the accelerator, and we're propelled backwards out of the garage, shattering through the white wood of the door, and into the blinding sunlight of the day. Shouts erupt from the front of the house as soon as we speed out, and I hear the sounds of guns loading, the rush of Marco's men hurrying to the garage. I keep jerking around in my seat, trying to break free, but nothing works. A sob racks through me as I hear their guns loading, hear them reach the driveway as we burst out onto the street. I just keep staring at Sebastian's face, at the hard determination in his eyes, and I feel my heart pound and for the second time in the last two days, I think I'm about to die. I think this is it. This is the end of me.

  And right before the guns go off, right as Sebastian pulls onto the street and guns for it, I swear I hear him say the words, ever so softly, "I'm sorry."

  But I can't be sure.

  The only thing I'm sure of in that moment is that something very, very bad is about to go down.

  The rest happens in slow motion.

  One moment we're driving and I tear my gaze back towards the ten-ish men crouched by the shattered garage, guns trained on us, and the next thing I know several earsplitting cracks fill the air.

  It's the worst sound in the world.

  I duck down desperately, covering my head with my hands, as the bullets collide with the car, windows shattering everywhere. I scream and scream and glance back at Sebastian, but none of us seem hurt.

  "Get down, angel!" he shouts at me as another round of fire goes off, connecting with the sides of the car. Sebastian hits the gas harder, sending us speeding to the end of the street. The sounds of cars starting behind us fill the air. Sebastian jerks the car to the right, turning onto a smaller street, and several black trucks speed after us. My head keeps pounding, my vision zooming in and out, and I glance wildly around the car, my body now covered in millions of pieces of glass. I feel blood trickling from my arm, and I look down and see a shard of glass lodged there. I scream, knowing I need to get out of the car. I jerk at the handcuffs again, but they don’t budge.

  Oh god.

  Oh god I'm going to freaking die.

  "Let me out, Sebastian!" I scream as another bullet hits the back of our car, shattering through the glass and causing us both to duck. "Please let me out of here!"

  Sebastian speeds faster down the road, eyes hard, knuckles clenched on the steering wheel, but he doesn't
so much as meet my gaze. "I can't do that, angel," he says in a low voice.

  Another quick turn. The car jerks to the side, throwing me back against the seat, and then Sebastian hits the gas and we're speeding again, shooting down the road. The sound of the cars behind us keeps getting louder and louder, and more gunshots break out, narrowly missing my head. One bullet even hits the windshield, creating a spider web of cracks throughout it and making my heart race furiously in my chest. I spin around to check our progress and instead see that the trucks are even closer now, the squeal of their tires getting louder and louder.

  They're too fast.

  "They're gaining on us!" I scream. "Oh fuck, they're gaining us!" My voice cracks and I feel a sob rack through me. This is it, I tell myself. This is how I'm going to die.

  Everything trembles. Hurts. Burns. I don't want to die like this. I don’t want to die and not even know why.

  Sebastian jerks his gaze to mine for one long moment, and his nostrils flare, eyes burning into mine. "Stop that, angel. I won't let them touch you," he hisses. He speeds down the street, careening past a couple walking their dog on the sidewalk. I see the tension in his forehead, the crease above his eyebrows, as he steps harder and harder on the ignition, jerking onto street after street, but the men are too fast. The three trucks are gaining on us, and quickly. First they're one-hundred feet away. Then seventy. Then fifty. Then thirty.

  More gunshots rip from their car, shattering another one of our windows, and I duck, tears rolling down my cheeks, feeling another piece of glass lodge into my arm. More blood trickles out and I look around wildly, trying to figure out how to escape. I pull on the handcuff one last time, but nothing gives.

  I'm trapped here.

  I'm trapped here and I'm going to die.

  "Sebastian!" I scream. "Please, just let me go!"

  "If I let you go, they'll find you," he says roughly, eyes trained on the road as he takes another sharp turn, narrowly missing a car driving the other way.