Broken Bonds (The Bonds that Tie Book 1)

by J Bree

  I scoff at him even as I start moving over. “If you think that’s lip, you haven’t seen me at my best, but fine, throw me in the deep end for your own sick enjoyment.”

  Gabe grins, ducking his head down at the mats so Vivian doesn’t get an eyeful of him enjoying me sassing the old trainer. I get the feeling that he wouldn’t get away with as much as I do.

  Hanna is ripped, and the closer I get to her, the more that I hesitate because I wasn’t expecting her to be so solid looking up close. She doesn’t smirk or attempt to egg me on, she just waits for me to slip my shoes off and step up. We stand there and stare at each other until Vivian decides to start the sparring.

  “Go.”

  Her first mistake is that she immediately goes on the offensive, rushing at me and striking, but after a full week of Gabe doing the same thing, I’m prepared for it. It’s as easy as breathing to use her own momentum against her and flip her over my shoulder and plant her onto the mats.

  Gabe is easily twice the size of her so I’m a little too rough with it, but before I can ease up and apologize for being an asshole, her gift shoves at me and sends me flying across the room, smacking me into the wall.

  The squeak that rips out of me is embarrassing, but there’s no way I can stop myself at the shock of her breaking the rules just because I very efficiently beat her.

  “Jesus Christ, can we ever get through a class without one of you damaging Fallows? The kid is going to need a fast pass to urgent care at this rate,” Vivian grumbles, but I heave myself to my feet and wave a hand at him.

  “I’m fine, don’t get your panties in a bunch over the paperwork.”

  The students around me break out into a nervous sort of chuckle, like they think they’ll be murdered for laughing along with me.

  I rub at the back of my head but I wasn’t saving face, I really am fine. I’m shocked when Hanna appears in my eyeline with a frown.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I just did that! I haven’t lost control of my gift in years. I have no clue how that just happened. Are you okay? Do you need help to the med bay?”

  She sounds sincere enough and I wave her off. “It’s not the first wall I’ve been thrown into, you’re fine.”

  She nods and straightens up, turning to face Vivian, but staying close to me like she’s expecting me to pass out on her or something. I attempt to pull my focus back to the class but it’s like the air in the room has shifted and now there’s tension leaking out everywhere. I glance around but there’s no signs of where it’s coming from so I force my attention back onto the sparring that’s happening on the mats.

  I’m forced to sit out for the rest of the session but there’s a rough sort of competition that starts and it’s too freaking cool to watch. Round after round, we watch as the groups get smaller and smaller. There’s a weird, Bond sort of pride in me that Gabe wins every fight until he’s the last one standing.

  Vivian grunts a ‘well done’ at him but Gabe preens like he’s been given endless praise, and it’s freaking weird. We all head back to the locker rooms to change and Hanna sticks a little too close to me the whole time. I start to think her apology was just a smokescreen and she’s about to throw a punch at me while I’m standing around in my underwear, but then she takes a deep breath the second the locker room door swings shut.

  “Holy shit, I honestly thought I was about to have my life ruined by Shore’s entire TacTeam for throwing you off. I swear to you, I didn’t mean to do that. I have no idea why my gift went haywire.”

  Her words come out in a rush and it takes me a second to remember that Gryphon’s surname is Shore. “It’s fine, they were probably just shocked you’d stepped out on Vivian’s rules. I’m not hurt, don’t sweat about it.”

  She groans and strips down to pull her jeans and tee on. I’m a little more awkward about changing in front of everyone but only because half of my clothes don’t actually fit me anymore and it’s embarrassing to not look the way I want to style myself.

  “We all know what happened to Zoey, I know better than to lose my shit around you. I’ll never let it happen again.”

  I frown at her but she’s still muttering to herself and I have to butt in to say, “Zoey lost her spot because she went against a teammate, it had nothing to do with me. Chill out, Gryphon honestly can’t stand me. You’re good.”

  She stops, staring at me for a heartbeat, and then shakes her head. “He went to her family personally. I was at her place to finish up an assignment we had together and it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. Personal shit aside, you’re still his Bond, and Gryphon Shore is not someone you just decide to piss off on a whim.”

  She slings her bag over her shoulder and rushes out before I can decipher half of what she’s said. I’m left standing there in the locker room as it clears out, my hoodie clutched in my hands, as everything I thought I knew about these Bonds of mine is questioned.

  When Gabe and I arrive at North’s mansion for our bond dinner, I’m still a twisted, messed up pile of emotions. I don’t like feeling like this, like I don’t really know where I stand with any of them, and Gabe keeps staring at me like he’s worried I’m about to burst into tears.

  I mean, it’s not that far off because I might.

  He unlocks the front door like always ,but when we step in, we’re immediately stopped by two of the house staff and North’s driver. Gabe doesn’t seem worried, but I feel so uncomfortable because I’ve seen these people dozens of times and yet I still don’t know their names. It feels classist and like I’m some asshole for not introducing myself to them properly.

  The driver inclines his head at me respectfully and gestures to the house staff. “Miss Fallows, Councilman Draven is attending a dinner in the city tonight and you will be joining him. He’s on a call at the moment, but he’s left instructions for you to be ready in the next hour, so we must move quickly.”

  Oh, fuck no. Absolutely not. “I’m not—“

  “Miss Fallows, you really must hurry. Councilman Draven won’t be available to speak with you for some time and there’s so much to do.”

  I’m about to turn on my heel and run screaming back to the campus on foot, but Gabe plants a hand on my back and gives me a gentle shove in the direction of the house staff, propelling me into this entire farce of a night.

  I’m led through the maze of a house into a bedroom somewhere on the second floor and immediately there are women ‘working’ on me, stripping me and working to turn me into the pretty, obedient, and voiceless Bond North wants for the evening.

  I realize that it’s not the woman tugging me into a stunning Dior gown’s fault, or the timid girl clucking over the lavender tones of my hair either, so I seal my mouth shut and let them do their work. I can murder North’s assuming, pretentious ass when he crawls out from whichever rock he’s hiding under.

  The staff are far too good at knowing how to out-maneuver me, so instead of leading me downstairs to wherever the fuck North is, they take me straight down to the garage in an elevator I didn’t know existed and deposit me straight into one of the Rolls Royces, locking the doors so I can’t escape.

  I have to use a variety of meditation techniques I’ve learned over the years to calm myself back down because I’m about to stab someone. It doesn’t help that I’m due for my period and all of the extra hormones have me so insanely bloodthirsty that my gift is begging me to let it out to play.

  I’m safely encased in an ice-cold demeanor by the time North finally arrives, sliding into the seat next to me without so much as a greeting or an apology, and I ignore him entirely.

  I’m going to ruin him during this dinner.

  The trip into the city is silent and as uncomfortable as hell.

  I do my best not to fuss with my dress, but I've never worn something so fancy in my life. There’s a part of me that’s worried that I look like an idiot, like a child playing dress-up in her mother’s closet, and North's complete dismissal of me doesn't help a single b
it. He doesn’t even have his phone in his hand as an excuse, he just scowls out the window like we’re some old married couple who enjoy nothing more than stilted silence.

  It’s not until we’re stopped at a red light in front of the restaurant that he finally speaks to me. “This dinner is about more than your attitude. If you really care about the Gifted community as much as you say you do, then you’ll be on your best behavior, whatever that looks like.”

  I hate him.

  I hate him and all of his manipulations. Every part of this experience has come from him watching me and learning about me without my notice, only for it all to be used against me to get exactly what he wants.

  I loathe him.

  The driver stops in the valet drop-off area and North waits for him to open the door for us both, adjusting the Rolex on his wrist and rolling his shoulders back like he’s preparing to go to war.

  I get a hold of myself and prepare to do what’s right, I can wait until the night is over before I scratch his eyeballs out for being the single worst human I’ve ever met, and I’m including the scumbag he calls a brother in that assessment.

  North helps me out of the car and then directs me into the restaurant and over to the table with a firm hand on my back. The skin underneath his palm feels warm and tingly and I have to tell my bond to settle the fuck down because we hate him. He doesn't care about me, he hasn't brought me here as his beloved Bond, I'm just a pawn in his chess game.

  The other council members all stand from their seats when they see us approach. My knees begin to shake because this is a lot of goddamn pressure to have thrown at me without any warning or coaching. He’s just expecting me to know what the fuck to do here and honestly, I’m probably going to fuck it up without meaning to.

  There are at least twenty people attending and all of them know my name, greeting me as they greet North, and I feel like an idiot standing there with him in the gown, makeup on, heels, and lavender freaking hair!

  They all look me up and down, assessing every inch of me, and it makes me feel like a prized sow at a country fair. Every one of them wants to take in all of my attributes— the length of my legs, the blue tones of my eyes, exactly how straight I’m standing— and to give me a mark accordingly. I can tell which of them find me wanting and that violent rage sparks in me again.

  North pulls out a chair for me and I murmur a quiet ‘thank you’ as I carefully sit, smoothing the dress down over my thighs as I attempt to settle myself down.

  I just about jump out of my own skin when North leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head as if I'm some precious person to him and I have to bite my tongue. This is all an act, a display of unity and control so that there’s no question of his power and integrity.

  I know exactly how much torture I can withstand and there’s no one in this room that could force this truth out of me; North is actually a freaking great councilman.

  Every little scrap of gossip about his policies and planning that I’ve heard since being dragged to the Draven campus is stuff I agree with, like the Gifted community doing more to help out the non-Gifted or finding better solutions for orphaned Gifted children now that the Resistance has been kidnapping and killing so many of the Gifted. He doesn’t want to sit by and watch people get hurt, he’s proactive about safety and leveling the wealth gap between the higher society families and the Gifted in lower earning areas.

  I have no choice here but to play the obedient Bond.

  I plaster a sweet smile on my face and make eye contact with every person at the table. When North takes his seat next to me, I slide my hand into his on the table where everybody can see, because if he’s allowed to put on a show then so am I.

  He doesn't react other than his fingers tensing slightly under my touch, and I try not to think about my Bond being repulsed by the feel of my skin on his. Fuck, how am I going to make it through this dinner without breaking the hell down or snapping at him? It’s freaking hard but I keep the smile glued to my face, even as my own bond begins to mourn inside me.

  “So all is well in your world again, Draven?" says the older, distinguished-looking man at the other end of the table. He’s handsome enough but there’s something off-putting about the smile on his face.

  His Bonded is a thin, desperate-looking woman sitting next to him with a sneer pointed in my direction. She doesn't even try to hide her disdain for me and I find myself sitting straighter, pulling myself into a fighting pose because there’s nothing like a look of disgust to get me ready to rumble.

  "Oleander needed some time to find herself. She has a wild streak that none of her Bonds wanted to stifle, though we are glad to have her back with us once again.” His voice is smooth and rich, gesturing at my hair as if the color only proves that I'm a lot to handle and not that I am simply a nineteen-year-old girl with agency and my own sense of personality.

  I smile and bat my eyelashes at him as if he has complimented me and we’re perfectly in sync, no trouble here, absolutely thrilled to be trapped together for all our lives because of this stupid bond.

  His fingers tighten around mine again and I don't know if he is warning me to cut it out or showing surprise at how easily I have decided to go along with this bullshit he’s forcing on me.

  “I, for one, am very happy to see you two together. North has done too much for our people to be left behind by an unruly child," says the woman sitting to my left.

  Her eyes bore into mine and I do my best not to look away, not to cower to this show of power she’s attempting. She’s perfectly made up, her hair pinned up carefully and her dress cut across her chest so that hints of her tits are showing through the emerald green lace, making her the picture of elegance. She mixes her cocktail with her gift, swirling her finger above the rim in an effortless flex of power that quite a few of the Councilmembers at the table are watching warily.

  It makes me wonder what they’re all capable of.

  North chuckles under his breath and pulls my hand under the table so our joined hands rest on his thigh. The woman's eyes follow the movement and I see the flinch. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, this is another one of his ex-lovers here to mess with me because she’s pissed that I’m his Bond. She’s sitting there snarking bullshit at me not because I left my bond, but because she’s pissed that I've come back and now she has to compete with me.

  Well, jokes on her, I want nothing to do with this coldhearted bastard. My smile turns into a baring of teeth. “I’m aware of just how great my Bond is, thank you."

  Can this dinner be over now, please?

  Something as simple as finding out that my Bond has been having it off with one of our dinner guests is enough to change my plans of presenting a united front.

  North can sense the change in me immediately, and I wonder if it’s simply an innate ability to read people or if it has something to do with whatever gift he’s hiding underneath those perfect suits of his. His fingers squeeze mine again and I tug them out of his grasp.

  If he thought I was a petulant brat before, he has no idea what his dinner has brought out in me now. I might be willing to grit my teeth and struggle through this for the greater good but the second we’re out of this place, I’m going balls-to-the-wall on this asshole.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dinner goes from bad to worse very quickly but I manage to keep myself out of the fray completely. It’s not an easy task, especially with North insisting on ordering all of my dishes for me as though I’m not capable of choosing anything for myself. It’s so insulting and demeaning that I really do have to talk myself out of stabbing the asshole in the throat with my fork.

  The salmon en papillote is to die for and I hate him for choosing it for me because how the fuck does he know that I prefer fish and seafood over anything if given the option?

  Two of the councilmen spend the entire dinner arguing with him in that polite ‘boys club’ way they all have. I keep my mouth shut, only speaking when addressed directly, and smile prettily
at all of the servers because no one else here uses manners to them at all.

  By the time we get back into the car, I want to die.

  Not just because the entire evening has sucked the will to live right out of me, but also because I’m cramping like a motherfucker and there’s a good chance I’m bleeding all over this ridiculous gown right now. I ask North to stop the car at a drugstore on the way back and he completely ignores me, directing the car back to the dorms and leaving me there without a single kind word or, I dunno, saying fucking thank you for dealing with this night so well.

  I really fucking hate him.

  I strip out of the gown the minute I get back to my room and, sure enough, there’s blood fucking everywhere. I wrap a towel around myself and walk to the shared bathrooms, even though it’s peak hour and they’re all giggling and laughing at me for my state.

  I don’t care about their opinions but, fuck, a friendly face would be nice right now. I do my best to ignore them, and all of the bullshit I’m going to have to deal with because of this, and instead crawl into my small, uncomfortable bed. The thin blanket scratches at my oversensitive skin, but I’m shivering and need whatever help I can get to regulate my body temperature.

  The pain in my stomach is so bad that I can feel it radiating through to my fingers and toes, not a single inch of my body spared from the ache. I quickly check my phone to see if there's any drug stores close by that I can make it to before my curfew with no luck. Every single one of them in this small college town would be at least a half hour round trip.

  I don't think North would consider this a good reason for breaking my curfew, especially since he wouldn’t even stop at the drug store for me. All I’d get from him would be a lecture about how I deserve to feel some discomfort after what I’d put them all through.

  I try to rest but instead I slip in and out of sleep, the pain waking me up more often than not, and I don’t know how long that’s been going on when I'm startled by a knock at the door. I consider ignoring it because getting up is going to cost me. I lay there and try to figure out if I can even get up, and then I hear the door unlock.