Broken Bonds (The Bonds that Tie Book 1)

by J Bree

  “Alright. Settle down, everyone! We have a lot to cover today.”

  The room quietens down pretty quickly, the guys all seem to respect him and the girls in the class are all making eyes at him. Even the girls who are bonded are looking at him appreciatively, which I get.

  He is really fucking hot but he’s also a dick, so I guess it cancels itself the hell out.

  He doesn’t look up at me once as he starts the lesson, but he shoots flirty grins at the girls in the front row the entire time he speaks. “So last week we left off at the beginning of the Gifted split and the rise of the Resistance. Does anyone remember the very first thing the Resistance did as an act of violence against the Gifted?”

  One of the girls raises her hands, pushing her chest out and arching her back like she’s on a porn set and not in a lecture hall. Hell, the thought of spending the next three years trapped here with these girls… nope, that’s a whole new layer of fucked up.

  Nox smirks at her as he calls on her and she beams at him as she answers, “They found all of the Ungifted that were born from the Gifted. The anomalies and those without Bonds. Then they hunted them and killed them, claiming they were unworthy of our bloodlines.”

  Fuck.

  I know exactly what Nox is thinking but nothing prepares me for him turning that dark gaze of his over to me. Sage shifts in her chair, uncomfortable with his blistering glare now that it’s pointed in our direction, but she shouldn’t be worried. It’s my blood he’s after.

  “Fallows, join me for a demonstration.” Nox's eyes bore into me, a branding challenge, and my skin prickles as I feel the entire class turn to look at me as well. I raise my chin, even as uncomfortable as I am, I won't back down to the asshole.

  He has no idea of what I've sacrificed for him.

  I stand and walk down the rows until I'm at the front of the class, the entire lecture hall staring down at me. The giggles of the girls in the front row are bordering on asinine and they sound like twelve-year-olds.

  “Ungifted Bonds are rare but, unfortunately, they do happen. Oleander here is a prime example of when things go wrong."

  It's a struggle but I keep my face blank as the giggling and whispers start up. Gabe rubs a hand over his face but he doesn't move to stop Nox, their friendship and loyalty to each other far stronger than the weak bond we share.

  The one he thinks I’ve turned my back on.

  "She has five Bonds, all with above average strength and abilities, and yet she has... nothing. No ability, no affinity, absolutely nothing worth keeping her around for."

  The whispers get louder and I fight to block them out. I know what they're thinking, rejected by my own Bond in such a grand freaking spectacle, but it's nothing he hasn't already said to me.

  “We’re not like the Resistance, so we don’t kill people for being born lacking any real use in our society, but it’s important to remember our history, don’t you think, Fallows?”

  I stare up at them all and memorize their faces.

  I could kill them all right now without breaking a sweat, but I’m not a fucking monster, no matter how badly they all treat me. I’m above this shit.

  I repeat my mantra in my head again. Better to be hated and alive, better to be in pain than a murderer, better to be alone and safe.

  Chapter Four

  Sage invites me to go back to her dorm room to study, but when I check the location on my phone, it’s outside of the perimeter North gave me and there’s no way I want to deal with that asshole today. Not after his dick brother just shamed me in front of half the fucking freshman class.

  Fuck.

  I can’t think about it without feeling that special sort of rage that means my ability wants to come out to play and that can’t fucking happen. I do let myself think about it though, for like a second. Just to burn off the rage a little.

  So instead, I head back to my own dorm room to… sit and fucking mope, really. In the light of day, the room looks even more bleak. Bare walls, empty cupboards, and the shittiest bed known to man. For real, I’ve slept in homeless shelters with better mattresses, and the blankets are a scratchy nightmare.

  I also only have about eight dollars to my name, so buying new shit isn’t in the budget.

  I unpack my bags and go through what little clothing I have left. There’s a little makeup and three pairs of shoes. Not great, shoes are kind of my life and the Tactical Team left behind a pair of leather ankle boots that were the greatest thrift shop find of my life. I refuse to admit how much that loss hurts me.

  There may be tears.

  Then I spend a few hours on my phone researching jobs that fit into the perimeter North gave me, but none of the hours work with his stupid curfew. Looks like earning money is out and I’m stuck in this shitty room the way it is.

  Fuck my life.

  Even on the run, I managed to find little pieces of art and trinkets to cute up my spaces. I had a car too. I’ll have to talk to North about it because it’s registered in my name and I don’t need to be racking up tickets for abandoning it.

  Fuck, if only I could get my car back.

  The real problem here is the killer GPS chip. If I could get it out then I’ll be out of this place on the next bus… or, hell, I’ll hitchhike my way to the East coast. Or maybe Canada. I’d need a passport for that.

  Fuck.

  Eventually it gets dark outside and I get bored enough in my shitty little room to get ready for bed. The showers at the dorms are a special sort of hell thanks to all of the whispers and gossip, but it doesn’t take much brain function to realize that there are times of the day when this place is a ghost town and I use that to my advantage.

  I’m drying off my hair in my room when my phone pings with a text.

  Strange.

  Only Sage has my number and she’s at work right now. She’s already given me a basic rundown of what her week looks like so we can find time to study together. I steel myself for whichever one of my Bonds is starting a whole new campaign of hate against me, because I’m sure North gave them all my number, but when I check it, I find a message from my last Bond, the one who’s been missing so far.

  I slump down on the bed as I read his text once, twice, eight times.

  Fuck.

  I think we should meet here first. The name is Atlas Bassinger, and I live on the other side of the country. I’m finishing out the semester and then coming to you, my college wouldn’t let me transfer mid-unit, otherwise I’d be there now. Hope you can understand that.

  Oh God, I think he’s asking me for forgiveness for not dropping everything and coming to me. Me! I stare at my phone for a another second before replying, trying to find the words to tell him I’m the worst fucking option for him.

  Have you spoken to the other guys? I’m sure they have plenty to say about why you don’t need to drop everything to come to me.

  His reply is much faster.

  I don’t give a fuck about their opinions on my Bond. I spoke to them when my bloodwork came back and they told me you ran. I’m not a dumbass like the rest of them, you ran because you had to. I know it. I’ll be there as soon as I can and if that isn’t fast enough for you, I’ll come now and start the semester over again.

  My stomach drops. I drop the towel I was drying my hair with to the ground and focus entirely on my phone.

  You can’t do that! I made you wait for long enough and, honestly, I’m still not too keen on sticking around.

  I could cry, just fucking sob at my phone at this tiny scrap of kindness, but that might just break the dam inside me and at this point, I’m a freaking expert at compartmentalizing my own trauma. I hesitate when my phone pings again in my hand, then take a deep breath and look.

  Introduce yourself, Bond. I don’t want to talk about anything but you and I. That’s what’s going to get me through the next two months.

  I swallow. What’s a little honesty going to hurt? I can tell him enough that he doesn’t hate me but not enough to put either of u
s in danger. Also, the text messages help me to be a little more honest than I usually am, like the fact that he’s thousands of miles away means that nothing I say here really… matters I guess. All of it is future Oli’s problem and, fuck it, I really don’t want to think about her right now because with any luck, I’ll be gone before he makes it here. I’ve always been more of a live-in-the-moment person.

  You have to be when you’re running for your life.

  There’s nothing really to say about me. My name is Oleander Fallows, I’m nineteen, and I don’t want to be here. I was found by a TacTeam and the Council had them bring me back here. They’ve put GPS trackers in me now, so there’s no way for me to leave here. Yet.

  The text had barely shown up as delivered when the phone rang. Oh God. I stare at it for a second and then, with a shaking hand, answer his call.

  “Hey, what do you mean a GPS tracker?”

  His voice is like warm honey, all liquid and soothing. I try to keep my own voice calm but it’s a trying situation to be in. Fuck, why did I say anything to him? What exactly was I expecting?

  I clear my throat. “The Council held me down and implanted a GPS tracker under my skin while I struggled. Well, I would have struggled if the Gifted in the room hadn’t paralyzed me. It’s got some safeguard on it so I can’t just dig it out myself. Apparently, one of my other Bonds is a very important man and I’ve pissed him off enough to have my autonomy taken from me.”

  There’s a beat of silence and then he says, “I’ll come now, fuck my college classes.”

  My cheeks heat up. “It’s my own doing. I ran. They won’t ever let me forget that either. Fuck, I’d probably hate me too if I were them.”

  He grunts and I hear him rummaging around in the background. I pray he’s not looking for, like, car keys or a laptop to buy plane tickets. “You had a reason though, right? You didn’t just leave for the fun of it.”

  I scoff. “How exactly can you be so sure of that? I could be a total asshole here.”

  He scoffs back at me and I imagine a wry grin on his face. I mean, I have no clue what he looks like, other than the tiny little photo on the file North had given me, but there’s something in his tone that tells me he’s full of smugness and flirting right now. “Don’t try to distract me, Bond. There’s no way you were leaving me behind, not on purpose.”

  His calm and unwavering belief in me knocks me off of my feet and I slump on my bed. “That’s pretty arrogant of you to assume, I might just be a total fucking bitch. Fuck, it doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t talk about any of it, no matter how nice you are.”

  He grunts down the line at me. “Okay, fuck this, I’m booking a flight right now.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. "You can’t, they'll only hold that against me as well. Just... maybe we can just call and text sometimes? It would be nice to talk to someone who doesn't... hate me, I guess."

  He chuckles down the phone and my knees go weak. "Yeah, I'd like to get to know my Bond. This way we can do it without all of the sex getting in the way, though I have to admit, I'm a lot happier knowing I'm not the only one missing out. I'd rather they all stay pissed at you so I can taste you first."

  Fuck.

  Well, isn't that just great?

  Too bad exactly none of them can taste me.

  Not ever.

  Not without risking everything I ran away to keep safe.

  I fall asleep in my tiny, uncomfortable bed with my phone in my hand and sweet messages from Atlas bouncing around in my head. He’s so… normal. Scarily so, he just flirts with me and takes an interest in my life, as if we’re two normal people meeting for the first time and not Bonds with a shit-tonne of baggage.

  I don’t want to know what my other Bonds will think about him if he makes it to Draven before I figure out how to get out of here.

  I make it through the next few days of classes without killing anyone, which is a freaking miracle because this place is teeming with assholes and rude bitches. Sage sticks with me in all of our shared classes and in the cafeteria while we eat. She’s still quiet and kinda broken looking but the more we hang out, the more open she gets.

  Her Bond is an actual fucking asshole.

  Like, beyond mine even. Okay, maybe his mouth isn’t as bad as Nox’s and he’s not as domineering as North but the fact that he’s dropped her for Giovanna after they’ve spent their entire lives together… absolute scumbag. At least I know my Bonds have a reason for hating me. I betrayed them… in their eyes, I abandoned them.

  Sage is the sweetest freaking human, and the shit she gets from everyone is fucking vile.

  I wake up on Friday in a grumpy-ass mood and not at all ready to tackle the day, mostly because after my morning classes I only have one afternoon class, but it’s a three hour block, which sounds like torture. What class could possibly need that much time? Something that’s been abbreviated to ‘TT’, like I’m supposed to know what the hell that means.

  When I question Sage about it, she winces and chews on her lip like I’m being sent to the freaking executioner's block.

  “What? Oh, God, what the hell has North signed me up for?”

  She fumbles over her words. “It’s- uh, TT stands for… Tactical Training. You only take that if you’re planning on… joining the Tactical Teamforce someday. It’s pretty, uh… brutal. I know you don’t have an ability so… I don’t know why you’d be enrolled.”

  Fuck.

  Fuck me sideway, upside down, and twice on Sundays.

  Someday, once I’ve gotten really freaking far away from this place and my Bonds, I’m going to send North a letter and tell him exactly what type of utter fucking asshole he really is. I’ll do it in my best penmanship, on proper stationery, because I feel like that shit would cut him even more, the freaking psychopath.

  “Right. So I’m going to be put through really hard, like, workouts or whatever?”

  Sage grimaces. “Yeah, for the first few hours. Then they’ll… run some scenarios. That’s— ah— that’s where I think you’re going to hate that class.”

  Scenarios?

  She sighs at the face I pull and continues, clearly hating being the bearer of this awful news, “There’s three different training courses on campus. They’re all full of dangers and you have to join a team and work your way through it. You have to pass all of the courses to graduate so… here’s hoping they put you in a really good team.”

  There’s no way I’m getting into a good team.

  Even if the teacher isn’t friends with Nox or North, there’s no way I’m going to be put with people who have experience with this sort of shit and be dragging them down. I’ll be put with other inexperienced and lacking students and I’ll get my ass handed to me every fucking class.

  Gabe follows us both to all of our morning classes, our usual scowling shadow. I’ve gotten so used to him being around that if it weren’t for my bond keening in my chest for him, I wouldn’t notice his presence anymore.

  I wonder if I’ll ever get used to the feeling, if the sharp and vicious pains in my chest at the gaping chasm between us will ever fade into background noise in my body and I won’t even notice it anymore.

  I desperately hope so.

  The time I’ve been forced to spend in my room alone and studying is already starting to improve my classwork. The overwhelming feeling I’d had on my first day has eased up and I’m no longer drowning during the lectures. Sage even comments that my notes are better than hers, which makes me a smug bitch because she’s a total brainiac.

  It’s good to know I didn’t completely ruin my life while on the run.

  Gabe’s brooding presence keeps the chairs around us empty, but I don’t give a fuck about making a heap of friends. Sage is sweet, kind, and hilarious once she opens up a bit, and that’s all I need.

  We sit together at lunch and when time’s up she hesitates for a second. “I can… walk you over to the training center, if you want?”

  I give her a half smile and jerk m
y head in Gabe’s direction, where he’s already heading our way. “I’m pretty sure my prison officer will direct me over there, but thanks. I’ll message you later to cry about how freaking bad it is.”

  She winces and glances at Gabe. “I do not envy you. My parents wanted me to take it this year just so I had a grasp on self-defense but I pointed out that I can literally set people on fire, so I’m good. Hell, I almost killed my little brother by sneezing a few years back, so I need control, not encouragement.”

  I cackle at her, because I highly doubt it was really that close, and wave her off. She’s heading to a politics class that sounds insanely boring that I would give my left kidney to transfer into. My eyes narrow as I watch the other students giving her a wide berth, like she’s diseased, thanks to her asshole Bond.

  Fuck the lot of them.

  Maybe I’ll try to talk her into running with me when I figure out how to get the hell out of here with this stupid GPS chip… except she’d be in danger then and not just social targeting.

  “I’m starting to think you’re in love with her,” Gabe grumbles, and I roll my eyes at him.

  “Are we going to the torture sessions or not? I’m guessing you love this class, it’s your favorite, isn’t it? Gross.”

  He huffs and stalks off, his strides so big that I practically have to jog to keep up with him. “I’m acing it, doesn’t mean I love it. Vivian is a hard-ass and tries to kill us all. I hope you’re in shape, or this is going to suck for you.”

  Considering that I’m puffing just keeping up with him, I’m going to die today. I’m going to just run myself into the ground and freaking die.

  The training center is on the far side of campus and there’s an outside training course fenced out in the front that looks like it was built for Navy Seals and definitely not college students. I gulp, freaking the fuck out, and Gabe laughs at me like an asshole. There’s that edge to it, like he’s really freaking enjoying my terror, and if I wasn’t doing my best to make sure I don’t touch him, I’d probably punch him.