Shards of Us

by K R Caverly

  I reach the door in the darkness of the basement and start to push it open, but the knob doesn't budge. It's locked. I start shouting, pounding on the door for the second time this week, screaming for Sebastian, begging for him to release me, but no one answers me.

  No one, but the darkness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sebastian comes down to the basement first thing in the morning. I slept surprisingly well last night in the warm blanket and sheets he left out for me, and as much as I hate him for locking me up in here like this, I can't help but understand his reasons. He just wants to protect me. He just wants to save me.

  He's like me in that way: at the end of it all, he doesn't want to lose anyone else.

  While I sleep, I feel my thoughts drifting off, thinking about what Sebastian told me he was: a hitman. He kills for a living. He fucking murders people every single day. It hurts, to imagine that my Sebastian, that the man I'm falling for has blood on his hands--literally and figuratively. It hurts to imagine that he has such a big heart when it comes to me, but such a small one when it comes to his victims, or whoever it is he kills. I want to ask him about it. I want to know who he killed for this cartel that's after us, and why they made him kill the people. I need all of the gory details if I'm going to get over it. I trust Sebastian despite myself, and I know, deep down, that he wasn't lying when he said he hated himself for what he did--and that he didn't have a choice.

  Sebastian is a good man, I tell myself.

  I don't think it's a lie.

  Next, I find myself wondering about the scar on his cheek, the one he refuses to tell me about, and I think about why he doesn't want to talk about why Marco and the rest of the cartel are after him.

  I close my eyes. He's hiding things from me, still. Even after everything, he still doesn't trust me. And I don't know why, but I want him to. So, so badly.

  I'm still caught up in the thought when Sebastian comes down. There's a click at the top of the stairs, the creak of a door being opened, and then the sound of footsteps heading toward the bottom floor. I watch as Sebastian's silhouette comes into view, lean and muscular, walking slowly toward me. The room is still dark as he makes his way over to me. When he reaches me, he stops, and I can see the familiar flash of blue in his eyes as he stares at me, focusing on my arm. Then, he reaches out and touches my hand, trailing his finger along it slowly, calmly, sending an array of shivers through me. I watch with fascination as his dark fingers touch my pale skin, and I keep my gaze locked on his even though he isn't looking back, listen to the pounding in my heart and the ache in my body as he slowly lifts up my arm and then, before I know what's happening, touches his lips to my bicep. He kisses me gently at first, like kissing me is an art and he has mastered it. He moves his lips along my arm, his kiss all hot and fiery, and I just stand there, unable to move or breathe as he seemingly brings life to my skin. Tingles shoot through me, and the familiar need for him to kiss me elsewhere returns. His lips have that effect on me; they wipe everything else away. Sebastian's kiss is dangerous but so, so right.

  "I need to bring you upstairs, angel," Sebastian says roughly, pulling back away from my arm. His gaze is fixated on my breast for a little too long, like he's hesitating, wishing he could kiss me there.

  I open my mouth to say something, but his hand is already around mine and I feel myself getting pulled up to my feet. Sebastian leads me across the basement and up the stairs before we can do anything more. As soon as we step through the door and into the kitchen, the light from the house blinds me, and I have to cover my eyes with my hands as Sebastian brings me over to the nearest table.

  I can see Sebastian clearly now, though. He's wearing a new, clean suit and black bowtie as he always is--I have no idea where he gets them--and his dark hair is wet and wild. His tan looks even sharper today, standing out among those deep, clear blue eyes of his, and for the billionth time, I'm struck by how incredibly good-looking he is.

  "What is your plan?" I ask Sebastian as he makes his way over to the stove, but he ignores my question. Instead, he pulls out a plate and flips over the pan so that the eggs he has been cooking slips onto it, and then he adds bits of pepper, sprinkles some shredded cheese on the top, and slides the plate over to me.

  "Here's your breakfast," he says. I have to admit, it smells delicious. I grab a fork and start eating right away.

  Sebastian sits on the chair beside me, but he doesn't eat anything. I ignore him at first, trying to hate him for what he did to me. His eyes are locked on the open window in front of us, with that distant glaze to them, like he's back as a teenager, growing up under Jodie's care. He's had a traumatic life, I realize, and not once does he complain. He keeps it in, like a festering wound, and all I want to do is make it better.

  After a few minutes, Sebastian turns to me. His eyes are hard and serious, his mouth a flat line. "Do you miss how things were?" he asks after a minute, his voice cool, but also a little wistful. "Do you miss before?"

  I put my fork down. "Before?"

  "Yes." His stare is unflinching. "When it was just the two of us in Hotel de Galaxias."

  I think for a moment, staring at his scruff, then the faded dimples on the corners of his mouth, and I sigh. "Yes," I admit. "Sometimes I miss it."

  Sebastian doesn't say anything for a minute. He just keeps watching me, as if he's testing me. "Do you resent me?" he says quietly. "Do you resent me for what I did? For what I… for what I did to you and, for what I did a living?" His voice is as easygoing as it was before, but there's a certain intensity to it, like his question is deeper than just that.

  I hesitate. What am I supposed to say? I want to hate him, I really do. In fact, I wish I could hate him. But I can't deny what he means to me, and as I feel his gaze on my body, I decide just to tell the truth. "No," I say, pushing aside my food. "I don't resent you."

  Sebastian raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised for a second, but it's gone almost immediately. Then he nods. "Good," he says, more to himself than me.

  I lean forward, looking into his deep, tortured eyes. Curiosity trickles in. "Just good?" I ask.

  Sebastian continues to stare at me. "I told you, I'm a bad man. I'm going to do something to make you resent me sooner or later, no matter how hard I try. It's just who I am. What I am. So I'm trying to come to terms with it. I don't want to lose you, angel," he says, his voice growing more intense. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

  "You won't lose me, Sebastian. You won't ever."

  "You don't understand," he growls.

  I keep my gaze on him. "Then make me understand, Sebastian," I say quietly.

  He shakes his head. "It will only hurt you, angel. And I don't want you to be hurt."

  I move my chair closer to him. "Then at least tell me about the jobs you did. I want to know. I deserve to know."

  Sebastian's eyes burn into mine. Shivers race through me as he leans in closer to me, his lips and shaven jaw and haunting blue eyes lingering in front of my face. "Tell me something about yourself first," he whispers. "Tell me the things we promised never to tell."

  My heart starts racing. "You mean, break rule number two?" Sebastian is not one for breaking rules, that much I know.

  His jaw clenches. "Yes. I want to know you, angel. I want to know the real you. And I want to know all of you." His voice is rough as he leans over me, breathing onto my lips, and whispers, "You're my captive, don't forget that. I want to make you mine, and I can't have you unless you tell me who you are."

  I perk up. "You mean, you aren't afraid of… ruining me by loving me anymore?"

  I feel the thin fibers of his suit brushing against my skin as he brings his lips back onto my neck, kissing me slowly. "Angel, I'm not going to corrupt you. I'm going to own you, to love you, to save you from those men. I'm going to keep you my prisoner. But when the time comes, when things are safe, I'm going to let you go, and you'll leave my life like everyone else has. And you'll live your life like it never happened. Okay? If I t
hought loving you would hurt you, I wouldn't let myself do it. I need you. I need you to be safe. But I want you too bad to keep from having you." His eyes are so intense, his jaw getting tighter by the second. He trails his kisses down my neck, lingering at my collarbone, teasing me as he inches down lower, and a moan escapes from my lips. "Are you ready to be mine?"

  I hesitate for a second and try to think, but it proves difficult as Sebastian continues to kiss me along the neck, reaching out a hand and slipping his fingers under my shirt, where they circle around by my bra, slow and teasing. Every part of my mind wants to say no to Sebastian, wants to tell him that keeping me prisoner like this makes him the epitome of an asshole and, not to mention, that it's illegal, but my heart, or at least what is left of my heart, the ones longing to let someone else in, someone to heal the pain, screams yes. I try to stop myself from answering at all, but my heart wins this round. The word just slips out of my mouth: "Yes."

  Yes.

  It's hollow, reverberating throughout the walls, but it feels so, so right.

  Yes, I want to be yours.

  Sebastian smiles, a fleeting, beautiful kind smile, exposing his perfect white teeth. "Good, angel. Now tell me about you. The real you. I want to know." He stops kissing me for a second and lifts me slowly into his lap, resting his head on my shoulders, and then he moves his lips back across my body, tickling his lips and tongue at my ear, then along my collarbone. He stops at the space above my breast, kissing me slowly around it, sending tremors throughout my body. His lips are warm against my skin, so warm and sexy and perfect. I am acutely aware of the familiar hardness from his erection pressing against my body, and it makes my heart race faster. My skin tingles.

  "Okay," I say quietly, barely able to escape the tingles rippling through me long enough to speak. "What do you want to know?"

  Sebastian slips his hand deeper into my bra, kissing around it. I feel his fingers working to undo it, feel the warmth in his mouth as he draws closer and closer toward me. My nipples harden, and I want him to suck them so badly I can't even explain. "I want to know everything, angel."

  I take a breath. It occurs to me then that my life has not really been all that interesting. It's like I've been consumed by own loneliness, like I haven't ever really lived. So I start with the basics: the one time I ever actually felt alive. "I always loved to dance," I say, and Sebastian pauses kissing me, looking up and watching me with those deep and mysterious blue eyes of his. "Ever since I was kid, it was my life. It was more than just a passion, though. It was something I ate, slept, breathed. Dance and I were inseparable in a way nothing else could be. My parents… they never understood it. They were always out of town--sports agents, go figure--but they still supported me. They still loved me when they were at home, and so I was okay. Through my teen years I stayed home alone when my parents went on tons of business trips to places across the country or the globe, usually for days at a time, and I'd just go to school, make myself dinner, and whenever I had free time, I'd spend it dancing. It was nice, to dance like that. Never perfect, but nice. Especially on those days my parents came home, and they talked to me and we played board games or whatever and just… were a real family, you know? I liked when things were simple. I went to college and dropped out after two years and even though they didn't like it, they still supported me on that too. I don't know why I dropped out, if you're wondering," I add. Sebastian's breath is on my lips now. He keeps inching forward, looking at my lips with such hunger. Each time I inhale I can imagine myself kissing him again, letting him inside of me. I need him. I need him bad. "I just wasn't happy, I guess. So I left. Anyway, I never really had any friends. Dance was my only real friend, and so I let it be that way. And that was all okay, even though I was a little depressed, because at least I had my parents in my life. But then they were… killed." I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory, feeling the familiar hurt trickle in. "And everything changed."

  I go on telling him the rest of my tale of woe, filling in some of the details he already knows. I talk about how there was a robbery and my parents were killed, how the depression came in soon after and I attempted to end it all, even though it only resulted in me breaking my leg and losing my one true love forever. I talk about how lonely I've been these last few years, how, when I jumped off of that roof, not only my leg shattered, but my heart did as well, and it has yet to recover. I talk about how my soul was still broken until I met him, how he's the one putting the pieces of myself back together. And weirdly enough, it feels good to talk it all out. It feels good to be free again--free from the lies. "So that's it," I say quietly as soon as I've told my story. "That's me."

  Sebastian doesn't respond for a long time. He keeps tracing his finger around my breasts, making my nipples harder and harder by the second, causing the familiar ache to build up deep inside of me. I want him more and more with each passing second. I want his perfectly dark sex hair, his gorgeous dimples, his tanned muscular body, and his deep blue eyes. I want his dark suits and his gentle kisses. I want the way he makes me feel. I'm Sebastian's captive, and yet, I find myself wanting him. All of him.

  "Angel," Sebastian says at last, his voice surprisingly quiet. "You're amazing. You know that, right? But you're wrong. You're so, so wrong. Because you're not broken, not to me. You're beautiful. You're interesting. You have character and imperfections and so many things to love. I need you, angel. I need you how you are."

  All air is sucked out of the room then, and the only sound that remains as Sebastian finishes talking is the pounding of blood in my ears. The space between Sebastian and I keeps diminishing, and soon there is nothing left, nothing but our heavy, hot breaths, the closeness of his face to mine, and the tension in the air, thick and crackling. Sebastian moves his finger to unhook my bra, tracing his fingers around my hardened nipple and causing me to gasp. Every part of me wants him as he lets my bra fall to the ground. And then, silently, he pulls my shirt over my head, so that I'm sitting in his lap, naked from the top up. I don't know how to react as he reaches out and kisses me, rough and heavy, his lips melting through mine. Kissing Sebastian sends waves of tremors through me, and feeling him against me, feeling his perfectly muscled body so close to mine, makes my skin hot and tingly.

  "Tell me who are you are, Sebastian. I need to know," I whisper as he holds my half-naked body against him, fingers tracing up and down my stomach. His arms are around my bare breasts now, and I have to struggle to keep breathing, to focus on him, to make him tell me who he is before I go crazy with need, because the desire is pouring in. And fast.

  Sebastian pauses. His finger moves up from my belly button to the edge of my breast, and suddenly it's right beside my nipple again, sending shivers throughout my body. "If I tell you, I can't take it back," he says quietly. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

  "Yes. Please, Sebastian. You can trust me."

  Sebastian is looking out the window still. His eyes are distant, his face as tight as ever. "You're my prisoner, angel," he hisses. "Don't forget it."

  "I won't. Just tell me." I gasp as his finger slips down from my breast, past my belly button, and slows, moving gently back and forth, along the soft skin between my legs. My neck falls back and all I want is for him to slip it inside of me, for him to make all of the pain go away, but he doesn't. He just keeps running his finger along my skin, tracing it right there, so close.

  "I got the job offer when I was eighteen," Sebastian says at last. His voice is heavy and sharp, but sad too. He doesn't meet my gaze. "I never planned to take it. I just, I knew I needed money, and with my reputation for fighting, my nonexistent education history, and my family history, no one would hire me. The only jobs I could get wouldn't pay for shit. I didn't know what to do. But I told you, I was angry back then. I've always been angry, I guess. Angry at the world for doing this to me, angry at my dad for ruining my life, angry at myself for leaving everything behind again and again. These were during my last few weeks with Jodie, and I'd pretty much figu
red I was going to leave her again too, if I wanted to get a job. But I wasn't ever planning on doing… what I do… until one morning, when I got in a fight with a guy who was smuggling drugs outside of her house. I was angry and I saw him doing something illegal right outside the house of the one person I had left, so I just snapped. I… I almost killed him." Sebastian's eyes are fiery now, bloodshot and angry. I can't help but notice the whiteness in his knuckles, the hurt in his eyes, the intensity rushing off of him. He's broken, I can see that much. Shattered. Trying to find a way to make it all work. "I was just so angry. I beat him and beat him. And I guess Marco and his gang saw my fight, probably because they were the one who sold the drugs in the first place, and when his men started to pull guns on me, Marco held them back. He grabbed my chin with his hands and pulled me up, and I was so scared. I thought he was going to kill me. I thought this was the end. And something about that was also kind of relieving, in its own twisted way. I just wanted him to do it already. To put me out of my misery. But instead, his face broke out into a smile, and he turned back to his men and said, 'This one has potential' and then they all brought me back to their headquarters where Marco offered me a job. To kill people, he said. To kill for them. And I was stupid then. I knew Jodie was getting old and frail and forgetful, and I knew I needed the money to get her care as much as I needed it for myself. I was so desperate back then, and Marco promised me the job would be rewarding, would help get rid of my anger, and when he showed me the money he'd give me for my first job, I just didn't have any other choice." Sebastian takes in a deep breath. Finally, he turns to me, his eyes more intense than I've ever seen them before. "I took it, angel. I fucking took it. And now, five years later, look where I am. It's been two years since I've betrayed him, and he is still after me."

  My heart is beating faster and faster with each word he speaks. I realize I should be scared of Sebastian. I should be terrified, actually. I know the look I saw yesterday, when he killed that man. I know the little gleam was the look of a killer. But something about him is so hard to hate, so hard to be afraid of. Something about him just draws me in, and as dangerous as my attraction to him is, I'd rather have it no other way. Sebastian is thrilling, unpredictable. He's breathed so much energy and excitement and emotion into my life these past four months, something that the previous twenty-two years have totally lacked in. Being with Sebastian means living, really living, and it's the most exhilarating feeling in the world.