Shards of Us

by Caverly, KR

  It's Wednesday morning, three weeks since Ash died, that that all changes.

  Today, Sebastian brings me into town. We're out of groceries, so he drives me down the hill toward the tiny little town center, which is really just a handful of small buildings clustered together. The "supermarket" he parks in front of is the size of a mini restaurant. A few people sit outside of it, lounging at little glass tables with umbrellas over them, basking in the sun and eating sandwiches and laughing and talking. A water fountain sits to their right, with water pouring out of an angel statue's mouth. Sebastian slips on his dark sunglasses and leads me into the supermarket, keeping my head down.

  The place is as antique as it is small, with dark-lacquered wood covering the floors and walls and several shelves filled with an assortment of fruits making up the rest of the store. It smells strongly of sawdust and cinnamon, and it's mostly empty except for a clerk resting boredly against the cash register and a few customers, all of whom seem to be older than fifty, slowly picking food off of the shelves.

  I head toward the fridge at the end of the store almost immediately. Sebastian follows, keeping me close.

  "What are you doing?" I hiss at him as he follows me all the way to the refrigerator. He leans against it and surveys the store, his eyes like a hawk's.

  "Protecting you," he says softly, still wearing that suit of his.

  "From who?" I mutter, grabbing a carton of milk and throwing it into my basket. "Do you really think I will be clubbed to death by the old ladies in this store?"

  Sebastian turns to me, his blue eyes hard and strong. "This isn't a joke."

  "I know, I know. But please, just give me some space for a little bit, okay?"

  Sebastian narrows his eyes. "Why?"

  "Nothing. I just… I want to be alone for a few minutes. You've been everywhere these last few weeks and I love that because I love you, but… I also need a breather." I sigh. "I just want a few minutes, okay? No one here is going to hurt us here. And anyway," I add, handing him my grocery list. "We need more cheese. I'm sure you can handle that."

  His lips purse into a smile at that, but he still looks worried. "Don't go too far, okay, angel? I'll never be able to live with myself if something happens to you. Promise me you'll stay in the store?"

  I smile. "I promise."

  And then he nods, as if trying to reassure himself, and starts heading over to the cheese aisle, muttering something under his breath. I catch his gaze darting back toward me, though, and I know he's worried. And I like that, weirdly enough. I like being his. I like that he cares so much about me. I like our setup--I like everything I have.

  I may not know much about Sebastian, but that doesn't mean I can't love him. Because I do. I love him as much as I wish I wouldn't. Sebastian is addicting, dangerous, and broken. He's the only one who knows how to put the pieces of me back together, the only who knows how to make me feel safe no matter what.

  I head over to the front of the store where the muffins are, smiling a little to myself. I realize then that I could potentially live like this, with him, for as long as we need. He is everything I have, anyway. He's every part of my life that matters.

  I'm so lost in the thought of Sebastian while I mindlessly put some of the muffins into my basket that I don't even notice the man come up beside me.

  I almost jump when I hear his voice, deep and rough, as he reaches into the stack and pulls out a muffin of his own. "You live around here?" he asks in a thick accent, grabbing another muffin to put in his basket.

  "Um." I look up to meet his gaze. The first thing that strikes me about him is those eyes. Not just green but a deep green, like a burning emerald, or a serpent of some sort. They're the kind of eyes that once you look at, you can't look away from. They're entrancing, almost, beautiful in an unsettling kind of way. Then there is his deep tan, his jet-black hair that is slicked off to the side, and the thick muscle in his bicep, like he's been through a lot in his life. He's handsome, though. Not sexy like Sebastian is, but dark and attractive in another way. Gruff, I think. There's some kind of pull about him, something strong and undeniable, and as soon as I lock eyes with him, I find myself struggling to breathe evenly. I've never seen him before, that's for sure. He's the kind of guy you'd recognize from a mile away.

  I glance back to see if Sebastian is watching, but he's busy fumbling with the cheese, trying to get it out of the fridge. I hesitate as I turn back to the man, wondering whether I should just walk away. Sebastian already told me not to talk to anyone else and I'm just about to obey, but then I remember it's also been three weeks since I've talked to anyone but Sebastian. Plus, this man seems harmless enough, so it can't hurt to answer just one question, right? "No," I admit, nervously shifting my weight to my right foot. "We're just visiting."

  "Ah," he says, taking a bite out of one of the muffins. "No wonder I didn't recognize you." Then he steps forward toward me, and suddenly I feel my instincts go off. There is something unsettling about this man, I realize all of a sudden. Something not… right, and I know right away that talking to him was a mistake. My heart starts pounding faster and faster, and I inch back slowly, taking in a deep breath. "Is that your boyfriend?" the man says, pointing to Sebastian, who seems lost in the world of shredded cheese, frowning like he's never been to a grocery before.

  "Yes," I say slowly, watching him closely, making sure he doesn't try anything. I debate whether to call for Sebastian to come here, but I know he'll only be angry with me for breaking his rule, and Sebastian's anger isn’t worth it if I'm wrong about this man.

  "Interesting," he says and starts stepping away from me, toward the door. A breath of relief escapes me. False alarm. Thank god. "I recognize him, miss," the man continues, still heading toward the door, a serpentine smile tickling at his lips. "In fact, I once knew him."

  I frown. My heart starts beating faster. "You did?" I ask despite myself.

  His smile grows. Thin-lipped. Scary. I really shouldn't be having this conversation with him. I really should be running to Sebastian right now--just to be safe--because something about this man is all wrong. But curiosity gets the best of me, because I want to know more about Sebastian too badly. "As a matter of fact, yes. He was a good man, when I knew him. But he changed after one of his jobs. Such a shame," the man says, shaking his head. "Such a shame."

  My pulse is pounding now, and I feel the need to know coursing through me. The answers I've been looking for are right here in front of me in the form of this man, and as much as I wish I didn't want to know, I can't help myself. I want the truth. It's that simple.

  I shoot a quick glance back at Sebastian. He's found the cheese now, and will be seeing me with this man at any second. So I spin around and ask the man urgently, "What job?"

  He looks at me with fake surprise and also a touch of sadistic pleasure, that same thin smile spreading across his lips. "You really don't know?"

  "No," I say. My hands have started shaking. "What is it?"

  The man takes another step toward the door, savoring a second bite of his muffin. He looks at me with such amusement, it makes me scared. My stomach twists. By the glint in his eyes, I know something very very wrong is about to go down.

  "He was hired to kill two parents," the man says, watching my expression. "Mr. and Mrs. Knight were their names. It was about, say, two years ago. They even had a daughter. Such a shame," he repeats, but I'm not even listening anymore.

  Everything fades out. His smile, his voice, everything. My heart is pounding furiously and my ears are ringing, and I just don't know what to do. I'm shaking now, shaking so hard I could pass out. My gaze keeps zooming in and out, and I find myself moving my head back and forth, trying to deny it, trying to tell myself this can't possibly be real.

  Because Knight is my last name.

  And Mr. and Mrs. Knight are my parents.

  Sebastian killed my parents.

  Everything hurts all of a sudden. It's like I'm in a dream, or a trance, or something, but w
hatever this is, it cannot possibly be real.

  Sebastian couldn't have killed my parents.

  He wouldn't have.

  They were robbed. They weren't assassinated.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," the man sneers, seeing the fear etched all across my face. "Did I say something wrong?"

  He turns then, takes a final bite of his muffin, and steps through the threshold of the shop. I'm still shaking like crazy, my mind racing to piece together what just happened, but I manage to call after him, "What's your name?"

  He chuckles, steps outside, and then he's out of sight. "I think you already know the answer to that, missy," he calls back. "And hey," he says, his voice thick with sadistic pleasure, "if you ever change your mind about Sebastian, I'm always waiting at the dance studio."

  The next thing I know, he's gone, and all I want to do is break out into tears. I'm still shaking and feeling sick to my stomach by the time Sebastian reaches me, grabbing my arm. His eyes are filled with worry as he pulls me toward him. "Everything okay, angel?" he asks, and I somehow manage to nod, forcing back the tears.

  "Were you talking to someone?" he says urgently, eyes darting between my face and the open door. "I thought I heard your voice."

  I shake my head, feeling my stomach twist. A sob racks through me and I'm barely able to hold it back, because just looking into Sebastian's eyes reminds me of what he is: a cold-blooded killer.

  But could he really have done that to my parents? My Sebastian?

  "I was just talking to myself," I say, barely keeping my voice from cracking. "There was no one."

  Sebastian doesn't look like he believes me, but he nods anyway. "Okay," he says. "Let's get you home."

  He gently takes my muffin basket from me and goes up to the cash register, purchasing the food. And I just stand there, watching, but all I can think about is him, holding a gun to my parents' heads two years ago.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I don't tell Sebastian what the man told me. I don't have the will to, not until I know for sure.

  As soon as we make it home, I race straight to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, then proceed to puke several times. I let it all out of me, let out all of the pain and the churning in my stomach, let all of the memories escape me. I start crying too, crying through everything, and I crumple back, sinking against the wall, and I just cry and cry because I don't know what else to do.

  I feel so terrible, like I just lost my parents all over again, because the one person I have left in my life might be the cause of why it was so bleak beforehand.

  None of it feels real, honestly. It's like I'm dreaming, and having one of the worst nightmares in the history of nightmares. Sebastian couldn't do that, right? He couldn't kill my parents.

  The worst part is I don't even know anymore. He said himself he'd done bad things, so what's to stop him from doing something like that? How can I even trust him? I try to tell myself that I'm overreacting, that whoever that man was is just trying to throw me off or something. Or maybe it's just a practical joke or whatever. I don't know. And I most certainly don't know how to figure out the truth. I can't possibly bring myself to ask Sebastian in case I'm wrong, and I'm pretty much locked up in this house, so I'd have no other way of finding out.

  Another sob racks through me at the thought. I'm trapped in a house with a man who may have killed my parents.

  Just then, there is a knock at the door. I jolt up, my stomach hurting. "You all right in there?" It's Sebastian's voice, filled with concern.

  "Yes," I say, barely keeping my voice from cracking. "I'm fine. Just a little sick."

  Sebastian pauses. "I'm coming in."

  "No!" I say quickly, then realize how I sound and add, "I don't want you to see me like this."

  "Angel, if you think I care what you look like then you really--"

  "I just want to be alone," I say, cutting him off. "Okay?"

  "Angel--"

  "Sebastian, please."

  He sighs. "Okay. But if there is something wrong, you'd tell me, right?"

  "Right," I say, feeling sick all over again. "You'd be the first to know."

  That seems to satisfy him. He starts walking away, down the hall, to the living room. I hold everything in until the sound of his footsteps has faded away, and then I break out into a fit of sobs and more throw-up.

  I spend most of the afternoon in the bathroom. I've lost all the willpower to get up. I just sit there, holding back the tears, racing to piece together a reason why Sebastian would never kill my parents, a reason I can really believe, so I can finally move on from this.

  But I can't. I can't think of anything. Because Sebastian… he's the kind of person who would follow orders. He would kill without a thought. And that scares the hell out of me.

  I don't even know why I'm giving so much credit to this one thing a man I don't even know said. I mean, after all, I'm sure there were other Mr. and Mrs. Knights with a daughter murdered two years ago, but still. Something about the way he said it… it didn't feel like he was lying. He was definitely trying to rattle me for whatever reason, but he didn't sound like he was making it up. He sounded like he was telling the truth, and was certainly more than happy to do so.

  I feel sick again at the thought.

  Sebastian killed my parents.

  Sebastian. killed. my parents.

  Would he really do that to me? To us? Would he really let himself love me, even after he took away my family? Does he really have that little morals? I tell myself that he doesn't. I tell myself it's a lie. I tell myself that my Sebastian would never hurt me like that. I tell myself that I trust him. And I believe it, kind of. But a part of me can't help but feel that the man, whoever he is, is telling the truth.

  Come dinner time, I finally make my way out of the bathroom. I can barely stand, and I gulp down several cups of water as soon as I reach the kitchen. The liquid feels good against my raw throat, feels natural.

  I collapse on the couch where Sebastian is sitting, but I don't dare look at him. I can't meet his gaze anymore, not without remembering that cold-blooded look I saw in him last week. Not without thinking how easy it could have been for him to use that same look on my parents, right before he pulled the trigger.

  The possibility makes my heart sink.

  I could very well be falling in love with the man who murdered my parents.

  I try to remind myself that there is no way it's true, but the more I say it, the less I believe it.

  Sebastian doesn't say anything to me the whole time we're in the living room, which is a total relief. I can see he wants to though, can see how he wants to ask me what's wrong, but he doesn't. So we just sit on the couch and watch TV, letting time slip away, and I try my best to get lost in the pointless soap operas, but I can't anymore. The pounding in my heart is too strong, and a migraine is coming on, making my head hurt all over.

  Soon, my mind drifts back to the man at the little supermarket. There was something about what he said, how he was acting like I knew who he was… it didn't feel right for some reason. It's like I'm supposed to know him. But there's only one person I know of who knows Sebastian, and that person is… Marco.

  My stomach seizes.

  Marco.

  Could that man have been Marco?

  And if so, Marco could very well be lying about Sebastian, right? Just to turn me? I tell myself yes. I tell myself it's true. I try not to question it.

  After a few hours of sitting on the couch, Sebastian brings me dinner. We eat in silence, or at least he does. I don't really eat. My appetite has totally evaporated after today.

  I catch Sebastian glancing between me and my food a few times with obvious worry, but he doesn't say anything, to my relief. He just watches me, trying to figure out what's wrong.

  After a while, he stands up and clears my plates, leaving me alone in the living room. I star trembling all over despite myself as he's gone, trying to make sense of all of this. But one thing is clear: I need to figure out i
f that man really was Marco.

  When Sebastian returns, sitting down beside me, I turn to him. "Sebastian," I say quietly, taking a deep breath to ensure my voice sounds as calm as possible. "Can you tell me… what Marco looks like? Just so I know?"

  He narrows his eyes as soon as I say it. He looks worried, maybe even suspicious. "Why do you want to know?" he says, raising his voice.

  I look away. "I just do. I need to know… who to watch out for. Don't I? In case something happens?"

  "Nothing will happen, angel," Sebastian says, hard and determined, nuzzling up against me.

  "But in case it does. I want to know." I bite my lip. It takes a lot of effort to keep my voice from shaking. "Do you have a picture of him?"

  Sebastian sighs, but nods. He goes into the kitchen and searches for something, but I don't follow him. I keep my eyes glued to the TV screen, hating myself and Sebastian and Marco or whoever the man was for making all of this happen.

  Sebastian returns holding up a photograph. It's old and dusty, and I take it gingerly, squinting to make out what it is.

  The picture is of a man dressed in a suit like Sebastian's carrying a large gun and smirking at the camera. He's tall, with slick dark hair and a rough face. He definitely looks familiar, but it's not until I see the man's eyes that I know for sure.

  The man's eyes are the same deep green as I'd seen before, so strong, even through the photo.

  My heart stops. My stomach churns.

  The man I talked to was Marco.

  I know it with every fiber of my being then.

  I want to cry. To scream. To figure out a world in which any of this makes sense.

  Why would Marco approach me but not kidnap me? If he's really after me, why did he only talk to me, rather than hurt me like Sebastian said he wants to? And would Marco lie about Sebastian to get me to turn on him? He would, right? But at the same time, I'm not so sure he was lying.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. My hands have started trembling as I clutch the photo in my hand, wishing I could find a way to get some answers. But there is nothing. There is no way. I'm stuck here, and the only way I can know for sure is to ask Sebastian.