He was lean, toned, pale as the moon, covered in freckles, and damn that V he sported with those stupid revolvers… She mentally cursed at her attraction to him. He’d always been too good looking, too much of a playboy. While she and Jasper had stuck close, hanging out only in their group, Zander had left a trail of broken hearts behind himself in high school—the casualties being every woman silly enough to think she could tame him.
Sawyer had never held the belief that she could do so, and she wouldn’t entertain the thought, even if her life depended on it. What had happened between them had been stupid, wonderful, and probably the best first time a girl could have asked for. She wasn’t up for a repeat performance, though, no matter how good he looked. That had complicated written all over it.
“Can I help you?” she asked when he just kept watching her. She looked around the gym and sighed. They were alone. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with Zander.
“I wanted to talk about your fighting,” he told her, stepping a little closer. She stepped back, keeping a few feet between them. “Why did you learn to fight like that, Sawyer?”
“To protect myself, like I said.” She shrugged. “It’s not hard to comprehend.”
“From what?”
She took a long, shuddering breath as she stood and leaned against the wall. She had made her choice to open up a little to them, and if there was a person to tell first, it was Zander.
“From getting hurt by someone again.” Sawyer waved over her body. “Look at me, Zander. Scarred and maimed. By someone I thought I could…” She trailed off, looking for the right words.
“Sawyer,” Zander swallowed and moved closer to her, “tell me, please.”
“I’m trying,” she sighed. “I was in a relationship with the guy who got me into all this. I was lonely and thought he cared for me. He was teaching me how to take care of myself and said he was giving me a bigger purpose. When I tried to get out, he tried to kill me.”
Zander stayed silent, watching her intently. She shrugged and rubbed the scar on her chest with her right hand.
“So, I met Charlie,” she continued softly. “He took me in, listened to me. He taught me how to really fight and defend myself. I learned to protect myself, but one day I realized I could be doing more. I started helping others out of their problems. Thieving just kept us afloat, and I still liked the mental work of it.”
He reached out and rubbed her arm. She looked up to his green eyes and gave a weary smile.
“It was a long time ago, Zander.” She patted his arm. “Sometimes it’s closer to the surface, and sometimes things set me off, like in the kitchen with Vincent. So, there you go, the reason I learned to fight like this.”
“Sawyer, I’m so sorry for leaving you,” he whispered, his arm wrapping around her and she accepted the hug from him. She held his back for a moment, and a piece of her relished in the feeling of a hug from Zander again. A large piece. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“He found me with my new adoptive father and offered me a sanctuary then he took advantage of the trust I gave him. I learned my lesson,” she whispered and pulled away slowly. “Tell Jasper? He won’t want to hear it from me and-”
“He’ll want to hear it from you, but I’ll tell him if that’s really what you want,” Zander cut her off softly.
She honestly didn’t want to repeat the story again, so having Zander tell Jasper was fine with her. She nodded and picked up her small bag of gym gear.
“Thank you, Zander, for listening,” she mumbled. “And I’m done talking about it for today. Tune in next time for ‘Sawyer’s Fucked-Up Life’ showing nearly every goddamn day on Daytime. I need a shower before doing anything else today.”
She walked away, leaving Zander to chuckle. She grinned to herself. A good joke was needed to lighten the mood, and she needed the mood to lighten. He was on her heels on the steps, still laughing softly.
“I shouldn’t be laughing,” he snorted. “I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.”
“I wanted you to laugh, stupid,” she chuckled, “or I wouldn’t have made a joke. Seriously, don’t let all of this,” she waved over herself and looked back at him, “get you down. It’s life and it happened. I got out.”
“Alright,” Zander nodded, “I’ll keep from bringing it up too much with you. But, if you need anyone to talk to…”
“I can talk to you or Jasper, and even Elijah offered,” she chuckled. “I know. I’m going to take a shower. Tell Vincent I don’t want to be a consultant for the IMPO.”
“Have a good shower. There should still be some hot water left.” He grinned at her, and she narrowed her eyes at his complete disregard for the topic of being a consultant. Dick.
Before her shower, Sawyer noted, her bedroom had been devoid of intruders. Now, she frowned, there were a few guests she didn’t remember inviting in.
“Quinn? Would you like to tell me why you and your wolves are in my space?” She asked politely, smiling tightly.
Quinn was stretched out in her desk chair while Shade and Scout lay on her bed watching her intently. He was looking at her box of photos intently, and she was happy to see it was closed. When he looked at her, his ice-blue eyes were devoid of emotion.
“I’m taking you into the woods for some training,” he told her, curt and rough. “Meet me on the back porch.”
She was still standing by her door when he and his wolves silently left.
“Why is he such a weird fucking man?” She muttered to herself, closing her door. The woods. The city girl in Sawyer raged at the idea of playing in the dirt and trying to camp, but Sawyer’s practical side was telling her that it was about time she learned something about survival in rural or uncivilized areas. She scoffed. Her practical side could go suck a dick. She hated the dirt.
She grabbed some tennis shoes and an old pair of jeans. He hadn’t said that she might need anything and that worried her.
When she met him on the back porch, he was brushing Shade, who panted in the afternoon heat. It was sweltering, so she couldn’t blame the poor wolf for having a hard time. Scout was hiding in the darkest shade on the porch and didn’t seem to be doing much better.
“Are they okay in this heat?” She asked, watching the wolves and their Magi carefully.
“They stay inside a lot during the day in the summer, but for training, I want them around.” Quinn put the brush down on a small table and left it there. He began to walk off, leaving her. Shade followed him, and Scout bumped into her legs. Sawyer realized he was telling her to follow. Bonded animals had a higher intelligence level then unbonded animals. No one really knew why, but it was another fact of their life.
She jogged to catch up and followed Quinn to the trail she had been told not to use. The marker was really obvious, but she remained silent as Quinn brought them to his… garden. They walked for nearly fifteen minutes until the trail ended in a clearing.
In the center was a large fire pit that had stones circling it and a few big logs placed around it as seats. Toward the opposite side of the clearing was a log lean-to like one someone would find at a campsite. Inside the lean-to was a sleeping bag, a fold-out chair, and a camping bag. Shade and Scout were both heading over to sleep at the front of it, and she watched them both collapse down in the shade. To her right, a legitimate garden was growing, organized and clean. She couldn’t identify any of the plants, but it was pretty. The left side of the clearing had a drop-off, and she could hear the stream below in the silence.
“I don’t have an office at the house,” he mumbled. “Don’t come out here unless I give you permission.
“Okay,” she nodded, “Jasper already let me know.”
“Today, we’re going to start simply. Building a fire from scratch. Once you figure that out, we’ll talk about what’s next,” Quinn went into the lean-to and grabbed the bag.
It was an interesting lesson. She quickly realized that Quinn did not care whatsoever about her city girl sensibilities.
<
br /> “My hands are getting blisters,” she groaned. She already had some callouses, but even they couldn’t save her from what this was doing to her hands.
“Blisters? That’s what you’re worried about?” Quinn frowned at her. “Work harder and you won’t get them anymore.”
She did get a fire going, even if it took the entire first hour. Quinn made her do it again, and it went faster the second time.
“Water, fire, shelter, food,” Quinn recited. “The most important things you need to survive. Once you can get a fire going consistently and quickly, you’ll need to learn how to get fresh water. Every step is an extension of the previous. At the end of these six weeks, you should know everything I have to teach you about the basic.”
“Did the guys learn that quickly?” She looked down at her ragged palms, wincing at the sight. If she didn’t want it to happen every day, she would need to let them heal on their own without magical assistance. Her callouses would need to get thicker, so Zander wasn’t allowed near her hands.
“Vincent figured it all out in four,” he told her, grabbing one of her wrists and frowning. “Elijah was even faster, but he grew up in a rural area and camped a lot growing up. Jasper and Zander both took the full six weeks.”
“Good for them,” she sighed, trying to pull her wrist away but Quinn didn’t release it. “I told you I was getting blisters. It’s no big deal.”
“I have an ointment, non-magical. It should help with the pain and speed up the healing process,” he murmured quietly as he released her.
“You know,” she kicked some dirt around and looked about his camp, “some really stereotypical things could be said about this.”
He looked at her, and his eyes narrowed. He might have heard some of those things.
“If you have any sense of self-preservation,” he whispered, “you’ll never say any of those things.”
“I wasn’t going to,” she assured him, “but since I’ve been dragged into all of this, I was just wondering what your story is.”
“My mother and her kind taught me all of this when my abilities were similar to their own,” he walked into his lean-to, grabbed something and brought it over. A mason jar of green, pasty stuff was inside. “This will help.”
“Kind?” She narrowed her eyes this time as she took the jar. “Not people?”
“My mother was a Druid,” he gave her a vicious smile, and she stepped back, her eyes going wide. She nearly dropped the glass. “I don’t know where she originated because Druids only interact with their own, regardless of where they come from. So, she and her kind.”
Druids were Legends, a type of Magi that inspired non-magical legends, hence the designation. There were several kinds of Legends, but the most common were Druids. A Druid was always immensely powerful, having several nature abilities. They could bond with hundreds of animals in their region, grow portions of forests over a matter of weeks, remove traces of pollution, and so much more.
No wonder Quinn was so powerful. Having a Druid for a mother, the only parent that could be a Druid since all Druids were female, would have given him a predisposition for an exceptionally strong magical Source. It made him exceptionally dangerous.
“When I was considered as trained as I could be,” he gestured to the massive sleeve and chest tattoo he had, “my mother gave me this. It’s considered a Druid’s mark to other Druids that I know their ways and that one of them has a claim on me.”
“I didn’t know they did that,” she whispered, eyeing his ink. “It’s very beautiful.”
“I hate it,” he growled, “and I hate all of them.”
She swallowed and nodded.
“You should go,” he growled softer this time. She just nodded again, remembering that Quinn scared the shit out of her and she should have never opened her mouth.
She turned and forced herself to walk instead of run. Her fight or flight response was very clear in what it wanted. Quinn didn’t threaten her overtly, as much as he made all her instincts scream to get the fuck away from him.
“Wait,” he called before she got too far away. She stopped and, in a jerky motion, turned to see him jogging to her. When he stopped in front of her, she tried to edge away. “Tomorrow, bring a bag with you. I’m going to start helping you build a mission bag for this kind of stuff. The entire team has one, and it could help you when you leave.”
“You seem to be the only person okay with me leaving.” She was wary of this guy and his gorgeous eyes were hard.
“Because I don’t want you here,” he said bluntly, “but I see no reason why you should die out there either, criminal or not. People have to do whatever it takes to survive.”
“Okay,” she nodded and began to walk off again. “If it helps, I don’t want to really be here, and I’m doing all this against my better judgment.”
She didn’t wait for a response as she strolled away. At least one of them was kind of on her side and, yet, also not. She was equally happy and upset by knowing where Quinn stood. He straight up didn’t want her there, and that was fine, but damn he could have told her in a nicer way.
By the time she made it back to her room, she wasn’t sure if this had been a good day or an incredibly bad one.
17
SAWYER
She was on her hands and knees, trying to crawl away.
A kick to the gut knocked the wind out of her. She gasped for air and turned blindly away from the blow, trying to escape. Why was he doing this to her?
A hand in her hair prevented her from making it very far, dragging her back to the light she wanted to avoid. She needed the dark. If he was going to do this, she wanted it to be in the dark.
She was tossed into the shining brightness and winced. She was completely drained and couldn’t get away from the kick that fractured her ribs.
“Are you done?” A masculine voice growled. “I told you to get rid of him and you didn’t.”
“He was innocent,” she sobbed. “He didn’t do anything to you!”
“He was a target that I gave you,” Axel roared. “Instead, I had to go in and get my hands dirty. I thought you trusted me, but this proves otherwise.”
“I didn’t agree to this,” she shook her head, tears still falling from her eyes. He lifted her by her hair, and she tried to pull away, only to have him to shake her roughly.
“I needed him out of the way, so he didn’t become a threat,” Axel snapped. “I can’t keep us all safe if you don’t do what you’re told.”
She tried to shake her head again. She had only killed the first guy because he tried to kill Axel. She loved him, but she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to kill people who didn’t hurt people. She never wanted this. Being a thief was one thing. Material things didn’t hurt people.
“My friends keep telling me I need a heavier hand with you,” he growled. “I told them that you would do anything for me.”
His friends. Monsters. He promised they wouldn’t be doing this forever, that was temporary until they had enough money to settle down in a safe place. But those friends kept talking about things she didn’t know about. Prostitutes. Weapons. Drugs.
When another blow fell, she realized she was the one who was wrong. They weren’t the monsters—he was.
“I own you, Sawyer,” Axel growled. “You can either fall into line, or I’ll make your life a living hell. The choice is yours. If hurting you doesn’t get me what I want, then I’ll hurt someone you care about. If hurting them doesn’t help, I’ll start killing them.”
Ringing began in the background, but Sawyer didn’t know where it was coming from.
Sawyer groaned as her eyes opened to stare at the ceiling as her alarm went off. Two weeks, she had been in this house, and nearly every night was a different trip down memory lane. Another nightmare. None of them were accurate. They were blended memories, different pieces of time smashed into one nightmarish experience. Axel had never expressly told her that he would kill someone she cared about, he jus
t did it and that was that.
She brought her hands up to her face and felt the warm wetness. She had cried. She always did. Her room was frigid but not frozen, so that was good sign at least.
She pushed the memories away. She wasn’t going to dwell on them, since she couldn’t change any of it. She hadn’t had this many nightmares in years, but she was also certain of the reason for them, so she didn’t let it bother her. She knew eventually they would pass and become less common. For now, she just needed to suffer through it. She wondered if they would stop completely once he was dead or behind bars.
Oh yeah, Sawyer was in, now. She found herself roped in by Vincent’s idealism and the trust the others had for him. She still thought they were all going to die, but… this was her chance. This was her chance to pay Axel back for all the nightmares she had to suffer through.
The sun wasn’t up, yet, as she sat up in the bed. Two weeks. Time passed so fast outside of her nightmares. She trained with Vincent every other day, always tense and awkward like it had been the first time. She was with Elijah on those same days, now with Zander joining them for safety reasons. Both were friendly, and Zander didn’t ask any more questions about why she knew something. She and Quinn fell into a silence truce. He was cold and brutally honest, but a good teacher; and she hated every minute of her time playing in the dirt with him.
Jasper avoided her like the plague. She bit her bottom lip, knowing it was probably her fault. Starting only the day after she and Zander had talked, he had just shut down on her, refusing to be alone with her. Today, she planned on cornering him. It was Saturday, and she was done playing this stupid game with him. She would walk into a room, and he would find a reason to leave. He would come into a room, see her, and leave, saying he would come back. It was driving her bat-shit crazy and it was childish.
But first, she had something to do. She rolled out of the bed and pulled on a tank and some sweats before falling into her desk chair. She logged in and grabbed her headset.
A Life Of Shadows (The Redemption Saga Book 1) Page 19
