by A. Z. Green
Jaz didn't like the idea of the very tall, violent man who'd sliced up her hand, bruised, imprisoned, kidnapped and mangled her feet -which she still hadn't dared look at; they were now throbbing and she had to put her full weight on her heels instead because of it- having control of her fate.
She sank back, finding the wall inches from her cell doorway and leaned against it, allowing her feet to rest and to be as far as she could from him without going back into that awful cell.
“Are you planning on taking over, Erica?” he asked in a voice that could have curdled milk.
Jaz clenched her teeth flicking her gaze to her aunt.
Erica was watching Driver warily but her voice was confident and defiant. “Look at what's happened to her!” she spat, holding out her hand in Jaz's direction. Everyone inspected Jaz's bloody hand at the same time. She hid it behind her back self-consciously.“Right under your nose! By your own hand if I'm not mistaken!”
“You are.” His deep voice sliced through the air like an Executioner's axe. “But if you think you can do better... be my guest,” he challenged, stepping aside with his hand held out towards Jaz, as if offering her to the traitor.
Erica was about to argue -afraid of the responsibility and Driver's warning eyes that said 'be careful what you wish for'- when a loud voice growled, “No.”
Everyone snapped their heads in Jaz's direction. Driver had to crane his head round to look back at her. He regarded her curiously. She was scowling at her aunt with revulsion.
Erica's mouth opened ready to reason with her niece but Jaz shook her head in response, glowering at the traitor with fierce eyes. “I hate all of you -make no mistake,” Jaz shot a cutting look Driver's way. He raised his head a fraction enough to show her he got the message. She turned away, focusing back on her aunt. “-But if I had to pick out of all of you people to be 'responsible' for me, -if that's what you call it- you,” she pointed at Erica venomously, “would be the last person on Earth I'd ever let that fall to. Ever.” She swept her hand to her side to emphasize the finality of her statement.
Erica's jaw dropped open. Maria smothered a smirk that was threatening to appear on her usually astringent mouth. She felt for her daughter, truly she did, but the fiery spirit and fierce eyes of the young girl were intriguing and entertaining to watch.
Driver gazed at Erica, a tad smugly.
It was almost as if Jaz had indirectly given him a compliment, and supported him- though she'd made it very clear that was the exact opposite of what she'd done, with one hard look aimed at him. So of course, he knew it was futile to think it, but it didn't stop him wondering at the idea, and liking it.
“H-how can you...?”Erica began, dumbfounded. “I'm your aunt!” She protested, the distress and hurt written all over her face. It was the worst she had ever felt, since her father died. Jaz's real grandfather, Vern. That was saying a lot.
“Exactly!” Jaz screeched, springing forward, standing tall and audacious as she glared squarely at the short woman; all pain and fear forgotten in an instant. Her aunt gaped at her uneasily. “You were supposed to protect me, watch over me and what did you do!?”
“I am protecting you! We all are!”
“Bullshit!” Jaz roared. Everyone went silent.
Driver peeked at Jaz from his right eye but didn't look at her directly. Ever since the others had entered his room he hadn't looked her in the eye.
Maria swallowed and watched the girl carefully. The old woman was closest to the camouflaged buzzer by the door. She'd be there in a flash if things got out of hand. She was much faster than she looked.
Jaz's next words came out somewhere between a hiss and a snarl as she said, “I've been drugged, kidnapped, attacked, then dragged into this hell hole where I was violated, attacked again and god knows what the hell you've done to my feet! Did I mention violated!? With a metal rod!”
Driver cringed.
“It's hard for me to explain but-” her aunt stammered.
“Try!”
“But,” Erica forced the word and paused to make sure Jaz would listen. Jaz waited silently, her chest heaving. “But, it was all for your benefit.” Jaz breathed out a sardonic laugh, then frowned in disbelief. “There are a lot of things you don't know, and I don't want to just burden you with everything all at once,” Erica explained defensively, revealing her rising irritation.
“Unbelievable,” Jaz mumbled, gnawing on the peeling skin of her lower lip and gazing angrily at the bumpy stone ceiling. She shook her head and looked back down at her aunt as she grunted, “Seriously? You have a psycho babysit me,” she glared fleetingly at Driver, “and do all this to me, no worries.... but you're afraid to 'burden me' with some shit that you've probably made up anyway? Just like everything else this past year. Which says to me that you appeared out of the blue, clearly with only this ulterior motive in mind, so please spare me my sanity and tell me you're not my real aunt?”
Jaz was begging whatever god was listening up there that this evil witch wasn't in anyway related to her.
The offended look on Erica's face quashed Jaz's hopes. She gasped, her shoulders sagged, as if she'd just heard her parents had been in a terrible car crash. She shook her head as if that would make it not true. “No,” she whispered breathlessly. Driver shifted his weight to the foot closest to her but stopped. Now was not the time.
Leave her be.
“I am your real aunt. But, John... is not my brother.”
Jaz looked up at her aunt in a confused daze. “Wh-how?”
There was a moment of cramping, strained silence. The air was thick and heavy; Jaz could barely breathe under the weight of whatever the next -clearly- significant and possibly life-changing words that were about to fire out of her aunt's mouth.
“I'm the sister of your father. Your real father.”
Horror exploded out of Jaz's face. “What?” She nearly choked on the word. “You're lying,” she wheezed. She couldn't even convince herself she believed that, let alone the others.
For some reason, she knew it was true the moment her aunt had said it. Though the fact she was a deceitful liar gave Jaz an inkling of hope that this was a lie too.
“No. I'm not. You were... adopted.”
The complete conviction in expression and voice cut Jaz's last hope dead. She was sure she felt two invisible strings in her heart snap. The sudden pressure on her chest made her fall back against her old wall for support. Her shallow breaths filled the silence. For Driver, it was as if he could physically feel her pain. He closed his eyes tight and turned the other way.
Erica gazed at Jaz with pained, watery eyes. “You belong here, with us,” she urged.
That did it.
Jaz's last hold of control severed and she lunged for the short, broad shoulders of her startled victim. Erica nearly toppled over but Jaz's vise-hold -her fingers digging into the bones- kept Erica on her feet.
Jaz shook the woman, who's head just reached the girl's pointed, small nose, snarling, “Don't talk to me like you're doing me a favour! I had a life before you came into it and tore it apart! If you ever think that I would pick you over my family -adopted or not!- because you're blood, think again! I will never, EVER trust you, love you, even LIKE you! John and Rachel have been and will always be my parents and nothing you or anyone else in this godforsaken hellhole can say or do will change that! GOT IT!?” Her usually small voice boomed across the room and it took everyone -even Jaz- a long minute to collect themselves.
Erica stared at her in shock. Her thoughts were incoherent, frantically pacing through a maze of affliction.
Jaz became Jaz again and slowly, almost apologetically let go. She could see how her raving verbal attack had upset her aunt. She'd feel sorry about it later, right now though, she was glad.
“Er, should I come back?” came a high, whippy voice by the doorway.
Everyone had been so caught up in the moment that they hadn't heard the tall, slender, strawberry-blonde walking down the hallway. Th
eir heads cocked up, or around -depending on their position- all aiming towards the doorway where the pretty girl stood waiting.
Jaz glared at her though it was an expression that had been fixed on her face from before. The girl glanced her way, even smiled a little -despite Jaz's reproachful look- before focusing on Maria.
“No Skye, please come in,” the old woman invited in a low, tired voice.
The strawberry-blonde sundae sidled in as elegantly as if she was on Rollerblades. It was then Jaz noticed the green first aid pack tucked under her toned, freckly golden arm. She stared at the kit as if it were a snake.
She also realized Driver had moved away to the other end of the room to sit at the edge of a King-sized bed she'd only now observed for the first time. She had a moment to look around the room -to survey her surroundings, or just to take herself out of the present for a few seconds.
She gazed above Driver's shaven head to the wooden headboard, which was flush against the wall to the left of the open door. It was bold and similar to hers -though obviously bigger- and had pretty carving patterns along the top.
The bed was dressed in chocolate-brown, silk sheets and a darker fur throw was draped across the bottom, right where he sat.
On the left wall was an odd shaped, floor to ceiling window. The light was dulled by a layer of what Jaz presumed was the same plastic or glass coating in her cell. The light also seemed to only come through from the top like they were just over halfway below the ground- like a cellar, she thought again. The texture was bubbly and potholed reminding her of the surface of the moon but in miniature. There were sheer blinds drawn halfway across it leaving a long slit in the middle and thick, dark brown curtains either side, held back by matching tiebacks.
Jaz gazed back to the bed where a bedside table stood alone on that side with a matching lamp. On the wall to the left of where she stood was a partially protruding built in, stone closet/ wardrobe with dark -probably brown- sliding Japanese doors. Where her cell outer wall ended, the closet began, making her wonder how big this place was and what other rooms were beyond this one.
Also, who's room was this? She had a sneaking feeling...
An unidentifiable animal hide and a strange abstract wall canvas above the head board that Jaz could only distinguish as black trees or grass- were the only decorations in the room. To her right, behind her aunt's man-shoulders, was a closed door. A bathroom?
It only took her a few seconds to take in the layout of the room, before she peeked again at Driver. He had perched himself on the edge of the fur throw with his elbows on his thighs, open hands pressed together, with his fingertips touching in between his black brows, and thumbs supporting his chin like flesh brackets. He was staring severely at the floor; his dark, deep set eyes nearly disappearing within the shadows of his eyebrows and forehead.
She felt strange now he wasn't near her. She recoiled at the feeling but she knew what it was saying. It wanted him to come back. She didn't. She could still distinguish between the two.
A head of rose-gold shoulder-length hair blocked her view of him and Jaz nearly jumped out of her skin. Skye was about to touch her arm to see Jaz's hand but Jaz dodged her. “Don't touch me,” she warned quietly.
The pretty girl smiled and Jaz observed she had very straight, white teeth, freckles that at a distance she mistook as a sun tan, golden-brown eyes, dark red lashes and matching eyebrows. She had an upside-down tear drop for a face, high cheekbones and a light-hearted air about her. She treated Jaz's warning in the same way and found her wounded hand quicker than Jaz expected, guiding it towards her so she could get to work. She studied the cut carefully -Jaz staring at her silky hair the whole time- before Skye looked back at Maria. “It's not as bad as it looks. My herbs should work.”
Herbs? Jaz wondered with a mixture of skepticism, curiosity and unease.
Maria simply nodded.
Skye looked further to her left towards the bed where Driver sat. He was watching Jaz more intently than she knew from between his fingers.”Is it okay if we sit down there?” She cocked her head to the bed.
Jaz eyed it with mixed feelings.
She needed to sit down -she was amazed she'd lasted this long without falling over- but the fact that she felt relieved and even yearned to sit there because it was near her kidnapper -her kidnapper for god sake!- made her mangled toes curl. She cringed at the pain.
It was more focused on the toenail area. She remembered the sound of clipping and her jaw locked together as if reliving the pain. She couldn't will herself to move. But as soon as Maria gave a confirming nod, Skye's dainty hand wrapped gently around the wrist of Jaz's sliced hand and she led her to the bed, like a shy child being led by her mum on her first day of school.
Jaz sat down awkwardly on the right corner, Driver had moved over a little to the left to give them some space and Skye sat between them. He didn't change position and stole looks at her hand as Skye got to work cleaning it.
He dropped his fingers a little, raising his head so he could get a better look. It was a small motion but Jaz saw him and their eyes met. She felt the same annoying emotion willing her to keep eye contact but she slapped it away contumaciously and locked her eyes on her hand. When the blood and the stinging got too much she turned to the floor. She didn't look at him again.
Not until he spoke. “I think it's time you all left her. She needs to rest.” It wasn't a suggestion.
Erica had barely moved an inch since being shook by her niece. Now she turned to gaze at Driver unhappily. At the sound of his voice, Jaz glanced his way. His gaze was fixed on her aunt, ordering her silently with his powerful eyes. She noticed he had quite pretty, thick black eyelashes and at that she forced-demanded, willed, begged- herself not to look at him again. Not even for a second. Though she didn't know how long that would last.
“We will talk again,” was her aunt's final word.
Jaz couldn't even look the woman in the eye, she was that outraged and furious with her. She heard her leave; her footsteps fading down the unknown corridor. It had stone floors and most likely walls. The footsteps echoed but there was something cushioning it. She remembered seeing a plain, light blue runner though she hadn't really noticed it at the time.
“I think she should have a shower. Freshen up.” Maria suggested in a gentle voice. Jaz gazed at the old woman with a blank expression. She faced the young girl adding, “Driver put your suitcase away. He'll get it out for you when Skye is done here.”
“I need my bag.” I need my pills, was what she really meant.
Driver got up. Jaz watched his legs move to the built in closet. He slid the door open. She saw a few men's shirts and shoes on the floor in the small opening before he pulled out her suitcase and shut the door.
Those clothes looked very similar to the ones...
You've gotta be kidding me!? She'd had a niggling suspicion but now she was certain. This was Driver's bedroom.
She didn't know whether to be horrified or grossed out. In the end she landed somewhere in-between but a missing item distracted her. Driver carried her small, red suitcase a short way before placing it on the floor several feet from her. “My handbag?” she questioned a little impatiently.
She needed her iron pills fast. She'd already stretched herself. By this rate she'd need to have an injection and she doubted they had any laying around here. Or that they'd give her any, even if they did.
“Alf!” Maria called out the door. Jaz turned at the sound of a nearby door opening.
A young man's voice replied, “Yes Ma'am?”
Ma'am? Jaz nearly laughed out loud.
“Bring her bag.”
“And the bottle?”
“That too.”
Bottle? Shit! Did he mean my pills? They know!? Jaz tried to conceal the horror in her face but it was a poor effort.
Skye, who was now applying a strange mushy green mixture on her clean cut looked up when she felt the frightened girl's hand tense. Jaz barely saw her. Her eyes
swept over her before turning back to Maria. Driver watched the whole scene unhappily but didn't speak straight away.
The young boy's voice returned with her bag and a face. She recognized him as the one who'd brought the tray; and who she'd attacked. She cringed as the guilt took over before being squished by her growing anxiety.
“Thank you Alf,” Maria said lightly.
The boy disappeared closely followed by the sound of a door opening and closing before Driver's deep, velvet voice explained, “We only found out today.” Jaz's head turned in his direction and her eyes disobeyed her brain by fixing themselves on his. He looked at her kindly, apologetically. She was stunned and then suspicious. “Your- Erica... she never heard you mention it. Never even suspected you were... anaemic.”
Jaz frowned. “It's not exactly something you want to pass around. It's personal,” she retorted.
“You sound like you're... ashamed?” he observed incredulously, though the emotion was only faint in his tone.
Skye had finished applying the earthy-smelling mixture to her palm and was now wrapping a bandage around it.
“I'm not ashamed. It's just nobody's business. And I'm glad she never knew. It's not something I'd want my kidnappers knowing.”
Driver exhaled sharply, the disbelief was obvious on his face now. “You could have died if we hadn't found out!” he argued.
She looked at the floor then back at him coldly. “There are worse things,” she mumbled.
He stared at her, surprised and upset by her answer. She'd been that close to giving up. He praised his quick observation; finding her pills before it was too late.
She'd have let herself die? He was awed and disgusted amongst many things at that realization.
The fact that she had the mental strength to do that amazed him, but the fact it was brought on by her pure hate for her 'kidnappers' didn't exactly fill him with joy.
