Torn Bond: Bonded Duet: Book One

by Davies, Abigail

  “You okay?” a voice asked, and I turned to the left, blinking at the girl sitting next to me. Her name was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember it.

  “I…yeah, are you?” I whispered back.

  “I am. But I’m not the one trying to snap a pen with my bare hand.”

  I flicked my gaze down to my hand and spotted my white knuckles, then slowly let my pen roll out of my palm and onto the desk. I laughed, trying to play it off as nothing, but I knew better than that.

  My entire life was being uprooted, and as much as it was nice to have Ford here—especially after not seeing him for so long—this wasn’t the way I wanted it to be. I didn’t want to have him be my shadow. I didn’t want to feel on edge all the time. I just wanted to hang out with my friends at the bar or get a burger between classes, but even that had become almost impossible. Ford had to scope out each place we went to when we weren’t in my apartment, and he had to be with me at all times.

  I turned a little in my seat to stare at Ford and wondered if he was frustrated too. He was at the height of his career, and yet he’d been lumped with babysitting me. Maybe he hated it just as much as I did?

  “Miss Easton? I hate to draw your attention away from the handsome man standing at the back of my lecture hall, but I’m going to have to insist you stop drooling over him and look to the front of the class,” Professor Heartland said.

  My face burned so hot I swore you could have fried an egg on it. Ford’s lips quirked on one side, and I narrowed my eyes on him, then spun in my seat to give the seventy-year-old professor my attention. Her gaze was fixed on Ford, and her brows rose as she got to his face.

  “Now.” Professor Heartland clapped her hands. “If I could have all of your attention.” She looked at me again, but this time she winked and took a quick glance back at Ford. I had no idea what that wink meant. “I know it’s hard to concentrate when we have an Adonis standing at the back of the room.” I snorted, the sound echoing around the now quiet room. “But we must talk about the importance of this piece of literature. The way men talked about women in their works of art in the sixteenth century needs to be assessed. I want your opinions, your facts, how you think this would have made women at the time feel.”

  I shuffled in my seat and tried to write down what she was saying, not really understanding what it was I had to do.

  “Miss Easton.” I snapped my head up, my wide-eyed gaze meeting Professor Heartland. “What differences do you think there are between a man and a woman in the modern day compared to back in the sixteenth century?”

  I shrugged. “As in romantically?” Professor Heartland nodded, waiting for me to say more. It was just my luck she picked me out of all of the students when Ford was listening to every word I was saying. Could I not catch a break? “I…erm, I don’t really know.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “Women are more forward than they were back then.” I paused, waiting to see what she’d say, but when she was silent, I continued, “A woman would never have been able to tell a man her true feelings. Women have more choice now. They can marry for love and not because their father said so.”

  “So, if your father told you that you had to marry a certain man, would you?”

  It felt like the entire student body’s eyes were on me, and I could feel the burn of a blush making its way over my face. “It’d depend.”

  “On…”

  “If I loved him.” I tilted my head to the side. “The thing is, my dad is protective—too protective—so if he had it his way, I’d stay unmarried for the rest of my life.” A round of chuckles sounded out, but I wasn’t joking in the slightest. If only they really knew. “But he knows better than anyone that love knows no bounds. He followed his heart with my mom, and if they had met back in the sixteenth century, it would never have been allowed to happen.”

  “I see…” Professor Heartland stared at me. “And although your father and mother followed their heart, do you feel like you can too?”

  I looked down at my hands on the desk and could feel my pulse racing. It didn’t really matter what my heart felt because I didn’t have a choice. For way too many years I’d been obsessed with Ford, determined to marry him when I was older, but as soon as I’d turned into a teenager, my hormones took over, and I realized how stupid the notion of being with someone twice my age was. But right then, sitting in a classroom full of college students who were waiting for my answer, I knew it wasn’t stupid.

  “I think I can,” I croaked out. “In America, we have rights, we have free speech, but there are still places in the modern world where women don’t have the choices we have. They have to marry who they’re told to. They don’t get to follow their hearts. So…yes, I think I owe it to everyone who doesn’t get a choice to follow my heart.”

  “Are we actually going to talk about the work we’re meant to be doing, or just listen to Tinker Bell’s feelings all day long?” a guy toward the back shouted. The heat from my blush increased tenfold, and I realized what I’d just said. I’d spilled my guts to a room full of people who I didn’t really know, and Ford. Fuck. Ford had heard all of that.

  “Well, Mr. Reed, aren’t you the perfect male subject to talk about. What was it about Miss Easton’s words that made you uncomfortable?”

  “I’m not uncomfortable,” he growled out. “I just don’t want to hear all this froufrou bullshit. I’m here to pass this class, not be part of a fuckin’ girl cult where we’re talking about hearts and flowers. Jesus Christ.”

  Every bone in my body wanted to snap back, tell him it was men like him who were the problem, but I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut, and my gaze focused on Professor Heartland.

  “I see,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “And in your opinion, Mr. Reed, what do you think I should be teaching in my literature class?”

  “I don’t know,” I heard him answer. “Books? Anything but Tinker Bell’s feelings.”

  “How about we talk about the respect men had for women in the sixteenth century?” Professor Heartland took a couple of steps forward. “Do you think men would have spoken about women the way you just spoke about Miss Easton?” I turned in my seat to look at the guy and realized several students were watching him. As soon as I glanced at Ford, I could see he was fuming.

  His eyes were narrowed on the guy, his hands clenched by his sides. Part of me wanted Ford to step forward and teach the guy a lesson. Mr. Reed—otherwise known as Elijah—had been a thorn in my side since he’d asked me on a date freshman year. Apparently, he didn’t like the word no, and he’d made me aware of that almost every day since.

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Heartland—”

  “Professor. My name is Professor Heartland, Mr. Reed.” She paused and took another step toward him. “In the sixteenth century, things were vastly different, and women felt like they didn’t have a voice. Do you think women have a voice now?”

  “I guess?” Elijah answered, but he was squirming in his seat now, and watching how uncomfortable he was made a smile spread on my face.

  Professor Heartland made a noise in the back of her throat and spun around. “Maybe we should get a woman’s opinion on this?” My eyes widened, and I hoped she didn’t— “Rose? What do you think? Do you think women are represented in literature the same way they were when in the sixteenth century?”

  “I think it’s different,” the girl next to me said. Rose. Her name was Rose. I should have remembered that because I was obsessed with the movie Titanic.

  “In what way?”

  “I think prejudice is still rife in America. Whether it be gender, skin color, sexuality. There will always be someone who doesn’t like something, but the difference is freedom. We now have the freedom to reply back and tell them it’s not right. We have the freedom to speak out grievances, whereas in the sixteenth century, it was white men who controlled what was said in the media and what wasn’t said.”

  “Well said, Rose. Well said.”

  “Thank you,
Professor,” she replied with a huge smile on her face.

  “Your assignment this week is to research a sixteenth-century piece of literature and rewrite it in a modern-day language. Change it around, have fun with it. Speak from the heart.” Professor Heartland clapped her hands. “That’s today’s class over. See you all next week.” She didn’t wait as she grabbed her bag and then sauntered out of the class, not another word spoken, and I kind of lived for it.

  I packed my things away, and shuffled out of the row of seats, only to be met with Elijah’s scowling face. “Thanks, Tinker Bell.”

  “Move along,” a deep voice said from beside us. “Now.”

  Elijah turned his head and chuckled. “This your bodyguard, Tinker Bell?” He stepped closer to me, but I just stared up at him with a raised brow. Elijah loved to provoke me, but I never bit, and I think he hated that about me. “He know you like to fuck frat boys on the daily?”

  I shrugged. “It’s a shame you’re not one of those frat boys, huh?”

  A muscle ticked in Elijah’s jaw, and I smiled sweetly up at him. He knew for a fact I hadn’t slept with any frat boys, but he enjoyed making out that I did. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

  “I’m gonna tell you once more, move the fuck along,” Ford growled. He stepped between us, completely blocking my view of Elijah.

  Elijah grumbled something and then moved back, but his gaze met mine, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I heard from him. Not that I cared one bit. He was just a sore loser who held a grudge.

  “You know you didn’t have to do that,” I told Ford, slipping past him and moving down the steps toward the lecture hall door.

  “I know,” he grunted. “It was either that or lay him out. Fuck, Belle, why’d you let him talk to you like that?”

  I halted at the door, my hand on the knob, and turned my head to look at him. I could see the anger and frustration on his face, but he needed to understand I wasn’t the same person I was when I left for college all that time ago. I didn’t feel the need to fight fire with fire.

  “I’m used to it,” I told him. “When people aren’t scared what your dad will do to them, they tend to not give a shit what they say to you.”

  “That don’t mean you gotta put up with that shit, Baby Belle.” My skin buzzed at his nickname, but goose bumps spread everywhere when he stepped closer to me. He towered over me, just like he always had, and made me feel safe in the cocoon of his body. “You hear me?”

  I let out a breath, feeling my shoulders sag. “Yeah, Ford, I hear you. But he’s just bitter because I refused to fuck him.”

  A beat of silence stretched between us, and Ford’s eyes swirled with something I couldn’t quite understand. I’d never seen that look in his eyes before. “And the other frat boys?”

  I knew what he was asking, but there was no way I was going to tell him I’d only slept with one guy since I’d been away at college, and that one guy had been the nerdy TA in my freshman year. So instead of telling him my entire history, I just shrugged and opened the door, leaving him wondering. Maybe he’d stop seeing me as Brody’s daughter if he believed it, or maybe he’d just think I was a skank.

  I was kind of okay with either one.

  Chapter Seven

  FORD

  You didn’t realize how important your privacy was until it was taken away from you. Sleeping on someone’s sofa meant your bed was constantly in use during the day, and the small open-plan room was the hub of the apartment when both Belle and Stella were home.

  Part of me wanted to tell Stella it was late and to turn off the goddamn TV so I could get some sleep. Belle had a packed day of classes and a shift at the coffee shop tomorrow, so in turn I had a jam-packed day too. But apparently, Stella was unaware that she was overstaying her welcome on my bed, otherwise known as her sofa.

  My cell rang, and Brody’s name came up—a video call, something Brody only did when the team needed to talk, which meant there was no way I could take this outside, or in front of Stella. Belle had told her just enough so she wouldn’t keep asking questions, but not too much that she’d be in danger herself.

  I stood, answering the call. “Two seconds.” I glanced back at Stella, but her gaze was fixated on the TV, and having noticed I’d stood, she stretched out on the sofa, getting comfortable. I was never going to get any sleep tonight.

  My feet carried me to Belle’s room, and I knocked twice, but when there was no answer, I pushed the door open. I could hear her shower running from her bathroom, so I stepped inside and closed the door behind me and then sat on the edge of her bed.

  “Brody,” I greeted, holding the cell in front of my face. The grim line of his lips was the first thing I noticed, and then Jord in the background, typing away on a laptop.

  “Ford.” Brody huffed out a breath. “We’ve lost eyes on him.”

  My stomach sank, but it was something I’d been expecting. I knew Garza would have gone underground, and I’d been waiting for this call to tell me. A man like him didn’t give you any excuses to create more of a case against him. He was going to make it difficult, or damn near impossible. But we already had everything we needed, at this stage, we had eyes on him so we could track his movements and keep Belle safe. “Thought he would.” I leaned my hand on the bed behind me. “When was the last time someone had eyes?”

  “Two hours ago,” Jord said, not looking up in my direction. “He’s probably fleeing the country—”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “He won’t go back to Mexico, not when his business is still alive here. He’ll try to rebuild low-key.” My stomach dropped as I thought about what else he would do. He didn’t like to leave loose ends, and right now, I was a loose end, just like Belle was. And Belle was a tool he could use to tie up his loose end, one he wouldn’t hesitate to utilize. “You got eyes in his clubs?”

  “Yeah.” Jord finally looked up. “But it’s on a loop.” I nodded. This wasn’t the first time Garza had been arrested and raided. He knew the score and knew how to rebuild without leaving a trail behind. But now that he was rebuilding, and we didn’t have anyone on the inside, we had no idea what was really going on. We could guess and estimate based on experience, but none of us truly knew.

  “I’m posting extra men around you and Belle,” Brody’s gruff voice said. “I’m not taking the chance with either of you.” I couldn’t argue with him. Extras bodies meant there would be more protection, and I wasn’t willing to let Belle get hurt.

  “Okay.” I heard the water from the shower turn off. “I gotta go. Ears.”

  Both Brody and Jord tilted their heads in acknowledgment, understanding what I was saying. “Look after her,” Brody warned, although he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to tell me to look after the one person in this world who I would die to protect more than anyone else.

  The line went dead, so I let my arms drop between my legs and hung my head. I was tired, and my brain was overloaded with so many things. I imagined what I would do and the steps I would take if someone managed to get past the apartment door. I played out the scenarios in my head time and time again, going over and over each route to the closest safe house.

  A door clicked open, but I didn’t move from my position. I could still hear the sound of the TV playing some reality show in the living room, and the thought of going back out there wasn’t one I wanted to entertain.

  Footsteps padded closer to me, and I made the mistake of looking up. I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my gaze focused on the light carpet between my booted feet, but instead, I stared up at Belle. Belle, who was freshly showered, her light-brown hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and only a towel covering her body.

  She looked so much smaller standing there like that with a light blush on her cheeks. A blush I could have watched all day long. What was it about the redness on her face that drew me in? Was it the thought she was thinking something she couldn’t be?

  “Ford?”
she whispered. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and I didn’t move a muscle. She was my prey, and I was afraid any movement would have my instincts kicking in, and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. But I had to. The kiss in the club was just to get her out of there safely. It was nothing more and nothing less. So why was I staring at her and taking in every contour of her exposed skin that I could see? Why was the thought of her lips pressed against mine making me rock hard?

  “I need—” My voice broke, the deepness even surprising me. “I need you to walk back into your bathroom and not come out until I’ve left this room.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened, and her hands clutched at the front of her towel. It would have been so fuckin’ easy for me to push up off this bed and yank it off her in one fail swoop. Then I’d have been able to see every single part of her body. “What’s happening?”

  I shook my head, trying to get the image of her body out of it, but it was no use when she was standing there with that wide-eyed innocent look. An innocence that drew me in more and more with each day that passed. Belle was so much more than she let everyone see, and just following her for two weeks had taught me that. I’d put her in a box, a box I’d opened when our lips had first touch, and now I was tempted to peek inside and see what else was there.

  My muscles screamed at me to stand, and I couldn’t deny them any longer. I moved slowly and with purpose as I stepped toward her. I was giving her the opportunity to do as I’d asked and remove herself from the situation, but she just stood there, her blue eyes getting darker the closer I got to her.

  “Ford?” her breathy whisper asked, but I wasn’t sure even she knew what she was asking. Her chest rose on a breath, and I looked down at it and watched her hands let go of the towel. She was opening herself up to me, making sure there weren’t any barriers between us, and this was the one time I was so glad I could read people’s body language. She wasn’t offering herself to me because the towel still covered her, but she was being open. She was welcoming me closer, and damn if I wasn’t gonna take that chance.