Arranged_An Array Novel

by Hazel Grace

  The music had already started, strings of violins and harps softly played in the background. Garrett turned to face me, his expression emotionless, as he wrapped his arm around me and gently held my other. He led me into the steps, as we gracefully made our way around the floor.

  “Did I just save you back there?” Garrett asked. I peered up at him, his indigo blue eyes looking back down at me.

  “I’m afraid you did,” I said.

  Garrett bit the inside of his lip. “You looked like you wanted to run.”

  I sighed. “More like disappear into a puddle.”

  Garrett grinned. “I’m glad to be of service.” He twirled me twice and knelt on his knee, guiding me around him. When he stood up and settled me back in place, he asked, “What was he whispering about? You jumped back a little.”

  “Oh, I… He was just inviting me to a picnic.”

  Garrett furrowed his brows. “Is it custom around here for men to get on their knees to ask you that?” I shook my head, and Garrett grunted. “Then what did he want?”

  “He wasn’t whispering anything horrible,” I retorted. I didn’t know why I was defending Lord Ashton, but Garrett could probably pound him in the ground if he wanted to. The man’s presence filled the room, demanding respect.

  “Are you telling me that you like shameless things said to you, Avie?” Garrett jeered, a smile growing along the corner of his lips.

  I slapped his arm lightly, feeling my cheeks flush under his teasing. “Stop.”

  Garrett shrugged. “Some women like that.”

  “Some women are major flirts as well,” I countered.

  “Touché. But many women secretly like when—”

  “Garrett Cranfield, if you don’t shut up, I’ll have Eve find you a perfect little lady that’ll nag you all night.”

  He cringed under my fingers. “You win.”

  ∞∞∞

  “George!” I scolded. Placing my hand on my heart, I scowled at him for jumping out of nowhere.

  “I need to speak with you immediately,” he demanded.

  “You just—” George took my arm and linked it underneath his. “What is this about?” I said quickly.

  “Walk with me and smile. I don’t want anyone to think something is wrong,” he whispered with an edge in his voice. He led me to the balcony, where the scent of flowers faintly filled the air. The moon was full, showing small chairs and tables set out for guests. George quickly scanned the area, his body stiff, before turning around to face me.

  “I just received word from John,” he started, wiping sweat off his brow with his arm.

  “Garrett’s man?”

  George looked around. “Yes. One of the men encountered a radical about an hour ago. Our man was almost killed. They know where we are.”

  I swallowed. “Where we are?”

  George looked at me, his eyes soft. “They have to know by now that I came for you.”

  “Oh Femme Fatale.” My body began to shake, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of fear or that it was sinking in. Someone was here, in my hometown, trying to finish what they had started.

  “Papa!” I warned.

  “I already have some men there, outside the house. He doesn’t know they are there.”

  “Can they be trusted?”

  George nodded again. “They are Garrett’s men, so yes.”

  “Wait, why are his men here?”

  George took off his coat and hung it around my shoulders. “Since you’ve been home, Garr has had a special group of men here. They’ve settled in, looking over the town, to make sure you are kept safe. They report back to him every other week.”

  My mind whirled. After all this time, even without his presence, he still made sure I was safe? He used his resources and trusted men to ensure my safety? I didn’t know how to comprehend that.

  “Do I know any of them?” I asked.

  “Mr. Torres is one.”

  “Mr. Torres? My Mr. Torres?!” I furrowed my brows. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” I asked, but then recanted. “Because I would have said no, that I didn’t need anyone here.”

  “Glad you see how stubborn you are after all these years, and what I’ve had to deal with. We need to get back to the castle.” He saw my mouth open, but continued, “I know you don’t want to go. I don’t want to take the life you’ve made for yourself. But you’re safer with me. Besides, we can spend some time together and be what we used to be.”

  “What’s going on?” Garrett asked, walking quickly over to us.

  “John said the rebels are here, in town. We have to move,” George explained.

  “Where is he?”

  “In the back. He’ll have a carriage waiting for us momentarily.”

  “They’ll expect us to leave tonight,” Garrett replied to no one in particular.

  “We have to,” George insisted.

  “Travelling at night, number one, isn’t something I prefer to do,” he clipped. “Secondly, I don’t know how many men they have here. I need more information before we make a move.”

  George huffed, but didn’t press any further. “I will check to see if John has things organized.”

  Garrett pulled a dagger from the inside of his coat and handed it to him. “Don’t miss.”

  George took it and proceed down the balcony steps. I watched him disappear, pulling his brown coat closer around me.

  “We’ll get you warm soon,” Garrett promised, stepping closer to me.

  “It’s fine,” I interjected. The man thought of everything; if I was cold, if I was safe, if there were people watching Papa and I. Looking at him, he showed no signs of worry. His face was mellow, like how it’d been when we danced. A man bearing the safety of the crown and my predicament on those strong shoulders.

  “We’ll get you home in no time.”

  “Thank you,” I replied genuinely. “For everything.”

  He looked at me with a raised brow. “For what?”

  “Let’s go,” George called.

  Perfect timing, as usual.

  Ava

  Chapter 7

  I’d spent the last two days on the back of my horse, not able to feel my bottom. George made sure we took a break every three hours, so I could stretch my legs and get off Onyx. The weather had been warm but chilly at night. I tried to enjoy the new scenery, but I worried about Papa. Garrett said that he would have men there looking over him, which gave me a little relief.

  The nights were my favorite. I gazed out at the sky, from my sleeping mat, looking for constellations that Sam and I would find together. But sleep was something I didn’t get much of. With these radicals coming to Bampshire, it showed that they were relentless. I felt like it was a warning for George that they hadn’t forgotten about me, and that angered me.

  Being a woman, I’d use it to my advantage. They almost killed me once, but I wasn’t the same girl I’d been four years ago. It was eye-opening. Cowering and submitting defeat wasn’t in my nature, and George needed my help. If we worked together, the sooner this may end. And being together, to look out for the other, would put us both at ease.

  On our third day, we passed a little town that I couldn’t remember the name of. We rode through a grassy field, the sky overcast with dark gray clouds, as I studied the scenery. A patch of woods was to one side, while rolling green hills dotted with flowers peeked in the distance. It wasn’t until I heard Garrett order all to halt that I came back from my trance. He motioned for one of his men to come forward and spoke quietly to him. The man took off in haste ahead of us, and George rode to my side.

  “Ever been to this town before?” George asked, clenching his jaw.

  “Not that I remember,” I replied quietly, as Garrett’s men circled us. They were positioning for an attack; I recognized the stance from the soldiers at the orphanage. “George, something is wrong.”

  He looked at me, taking a deep breath. “I think so.”

  “They followed us, didn’t they?”
/>   “Yes.”

  Adrenaline rushed through every inch of my body. A horse, an empty field, and a few men; the scene was too familiar.

  “Garr thinks the rebels may be staying in this town. One of his men thinks he recognized one of them. If one does live here, the others might have set up camp here somewhere.”

  “What does he plan to do?”

  “I wish I knew. When Garr gets into this mindset with his men, it’s best to leave him be. He has a special bond with this group.”

  “Do you have a knife?” I asked. George furrowed his brows. “Yes, I said a knife. Give it to me.” He pulled one out of his jacket, the blade almost as long as my hand.

  “Can you use it?”

  “I think so, if one gets close enough.”

  He handed me the weapon. “Good girl.”

  We rode slowly on, and I focused on Garrett. The intensity of his face and the stiffness of his shoulders told me it was serious.

  A high-pitched cry shrieked through the air, shaking me to the core. I quickly looked around for the source, to find one of Garrett’s men plummet to the ground, an arrow sticking out from the horse.

  “Ava!” George yelled behind me. I turned to find him on the ground, running in my direction. “Get down!” I slid off Onyx, and realized that all the Elite Eight were surrounding us.

  “Up!” Garrett’s voice demanded. His men lifted their metal shields over their heads as arrows launched through the sky, striking our defense.

  George and I stood together, like two soldiers on the battlefield, waiting to meet our fate. I thought of my father and the last words I’d spoken to him. I’d told him I’d be fine, and I’d write to him as soon as I arrived. Now, the only letter that may reach him would be one of my death. My breathing was unsteady; the anticipation of what was coming sent my heart racing.

  George reached for my hand and clasped it until my knuckles were white. I blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. If I had to die, I was glad to be by his side.

  “We’re going to be all right,” George vowed, with a small jerk of my hand.

  “Get ready, men!” Garrett yelled over the roar of the enemy. In a synchronized manner, the men brought down their shields. George blocked me with an arm and eased backward. I couldn’t see how many there were or how outnumbered we may be; the men blocked my view on all fronts.

  “Ava,” George shouted over the noise. “If you have the opportunity, run into those woods.” He pointed behind me. “I will find you.”

  “I won’t—”

  “Do what I say,” he growled. “I will find you. Hide; don’t trust anyone around here to help you. You must find a way to get word to my father or yours.”

  “I can’t leave you again.” It was as though he was saying goodbye. He knew that he may not make it out.

  “I love you,” he said. “Never forget that.” An uncontrollable sob racked through my body. I’d just got George back, only to lose him as quickly as I had the first time. I felt as if I let go of George’s hand, he’d slip away from me.

  Clashing metal sounded, ringing my eardrums. Our men shifted back at the force of the enemy. A man screeched, and I searched for Garrett, but he was nowhere to be seen. His horse disappeared, and my stomach dropped.

  Someone shoved me to the ground, one of my knees hitting something harder than the grass. My knife was laid out in front of me and a man almost stepped on it. I snatched it up, quickly moving back. Two men fought, grunting while their swords collided.

  Getting back to my feet, I searched through the cluster of men for George. Pure terror hit me when I couldn’t find him. I backed up, getting myself out of the chaos of men to get a better look. A barrel-chested man suddenly rushed through the crowd like a bear. Following his direction, my whole body froze as my focus settled on George. Holding his sword in front of him, George was ready as the brute held up his own weapon, attempting slash him down. He blocked the blow, trying to push the beastly man back but gaining no ground. George circled the man, eyeing him, waiting for his next move. For the man to be so large, he was quick on his feet. He headbutted George, which sent him reeling back.

  “George!” I screamed, stumbling forward. The aggressor looked at me dead in the eyes and smiled leisurely.

  Returning his attention back to George, who was on the ground, shaking his head, the man stepped forward. Snatching up a handful of rocks with my free hand, I hurled them at the brute, trying to buy George time.

  Glaring, he pointed a bulky finger at me. “Yer next, darling. I can’t wait to have ye.”

  Receiving his back, I strode toward the man, clenching my knife in my hand. The enemy raised his sword to take his final flow, when I lifted my own weapon. As I lurched my arm forward, my body was yanked back by my waist. Instantly I started to kick, landing blows on someone’s shins.

  “Stop it, ye lettle shit,” snapped my captor, squeezing me harder.

  “Let me go!” I commanded. The brute turned around to look at the commotion. He saw the knife in my hand and chortled.

  “Ger job, Hanson,” he shouted at his man. “Hold her until I’m done with her friend. Her and I are going to have a little fun when I’m done.”

  Hanson snickered. “Yer are in fer it now. Pierce isn’t very gentle.”

  “Neither am I,” I retorted, landing a swift kick to his knees. I lifted both my legs, giving him my full weight while I repeatedly stomped on any body part I could. The clouds must have moved away because my knife glinted on the ground in front of me.

  I booted him again with my heels, and wiggled, trying to pry myself out of his grasp. George yelled, and my focus went to him. Twirling his sword to the side of him, George glowered at Pierce. Both men faced each other before George swung horizontally for Pierce’s throat. Stepping back, Pierce barely escaped, which sent him into a rage. He bolted toward George, and adrenaline shot through me.

  Using my elbows, I tried to land a blow on Hanson.

  “Knock it off!” Hansen exclaimed, trying to keep his grip on me. “If ye keep it up, I’ll take ye next.” Glancing up, I watched as a stocky man crept up behind George, sword in hand.

  “George, look out!” I screamed. George peered behind him to see the opponent raise his arm. Moving quickly, he stepped to his right and shoved his sword behind him, stabbing the foe in the stomach. The brute turned toward us again, his face flushed red with exertion.

  “Shut that bitch up!” Pierce bellowed, pointing at me. I was too far away, maybe ten yards from George, and I’d never felt so helpless in my life. Hanson placed me on the ground, holding my wrists behind me, twisting and pinching, trying to force me to my knees.

  The brute fought unscrupulously, kicking up dirt, throwing his hat in George’s face so he could aim to run him through. I made another effort to yank my arms away from Hanson, but he tightened his grip. I tugged hard again, my wrists burning with friction.

  “You asked for it,” I gritted. Jerking back, my head collided with his face. He yelped, and his arms went slack.

  “Ye bitch!” he shouted. My eyes instantly went to my knife. Leaping toward it, I scraped it off the grass and whipped around to look at my captor. The old man’s nose bled, and if it hurt as much as my head did, I knew he wasn’t ready for another one. He took a step forward, and I held up my knife.

  “Come any closer and I’ll use you as a pin cushion,” I warned.

  “Ye wouldn’t even know what ter do wit it,” he countered, holding his nose.

  I forced a smile while squeezing my knife to keep my shaking at bay. “Try me, old man.”

  The man looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Won’t need to.”

  As the last words left his mouth, I was swung around and lifted in the air to come face to face with Pierce. Scars decorated a leather face, but his olive eyes were unscathed. He held me in the air and smiled, showing yellow, crooked teeth.

  “Tryin’ to hurt me men, huh?” he asked, amused. His smile faded once he saw my knife. “Give it her
now.” His voice turned stern and he eyed me cautiously.

  I answered him with a vigorous kick. Pierce grunted, and I took my chance, bringing my blade down. He blocked it, but I cut into his forearm.

  “Son of a bitch!” Pierce hollered, his exhale hot on my face. Latching to my wrist, he pulled it back and twisted. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep a cry from escaping from the pain. The knife started to leave my hand and guilt surged through me. I was about to fail George. The weapon fell from my hand and Pierce released my wrist.

  “Why thee long face, love?” he taunted. “Ye didn’t lose your spunk, did ye?” I looked over his shoulder, searching for George. Men still fought, several laid out, unmoving, and then my eyes fell on a green shirt.

  George.

  He wasn’t moving, his arms sprawled to his sides, and I thought I saw a dark stain.

  “What did you do?!” I hollered in his face. I covered my mouth, nausea brimming. Just moments ago, George was holding my hand, and now he was lifeless, on a field, alone.

  “No need to shout now,” he whispered, his rotten breath hitting my nose. He brought my attention back to him, the man who’d just killed my best friend. I stilled, my breathing coming in ragged.

  “Let go of me,” I barked.

  “Oh, I’m going to. I’m going to let go with every thrust I put into ye, little one. I can’t wait to have ye all to myself.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I sneered, my voice unrecognizable. Clenching my teeth, I started to flare my body, pushing off his shoulder and wrestling out of his grip. The asshole was strong, but I would get myself out of this. I had to. I would to avenge George. Pierce would die on this field.

  He chuckled. “Oh, you are already doing that. This sweet little body pressed up hard against me is killing me right now.” He compressed my body to his, a grunt escaping my lips. “Didn’t he set you aside?” he mused. “I heard he broke off your engagement, but here you are. Did you decide to be his mistress?”