Page 62 of Broken Ties
She’s wearing the same outfit she was wearing the day Kieran grabbed her, only instead of the server's apron that made up her uniform for the diner she was working at, there's an oversized jacket thrown over her shoulders.
There’s still way too much skin showing.
The vehemence of that feeling settles like a weight in my gut, unease like ice in my blood. I’ve never been possessive like this. I’mnothinglike North when it comes to relationships, but the fractured state of our Bond Group has leached that poison into every inch of our lives, inescapable and unavoidable.
She’s notmine, and so the idea of anyone looking at her is intolerable.
Not that I’d parade her around if we were Bonded, I’m not into that shit either, but knowing that other Gifted can see her beauty, her perfection and her grace, and never hope to have something even close themselves, well, even the thought of that fills me with an intoxicating sort of pride. Fuck, I’d be impossible to deal with, smug as shit at every opportunity.
Instead, I’m seething at the inches of her chest laid bare by the singlet top that should be burned for its crimes.
Harrison scoffs at my side, breaking me out of my spiraling anger. “Fuck, you’ve got it so bad, Shore.”
I shake my head at him, pulling the car out to follow behind Gabe at a reasonable distance. “I think there would be something wrong with me if I didn’t want my Bond, idiot.”
He doesn’t answer me for a full minute, the silence in the car charged with everything he doesn’t have the spine to say out loud, and it’s only when I scoff that he finally grows some balls.
“You don’t owe her all this. She ran away. You guys owe hernothing.”
My god, I’m so fucking sick of hearing that.
Inside the Bond Group or out, I’m done listening to my Bond being dragged when there’s very obviously more to the story than we know. Kyrie’s words are still pinballing around my skull and, more importantly, my bond is squirming in my chest at the idea of me believing exactly what my Bond has telling us all, but I realize suddenly with absolute clarity that I do believe her.
Oleander Fallows did not run.
At least, she didn’tchooseto—and that’s all that matters to me. Whatever has happened to her, it’s made her certain that forcing distance between us all is the safest option, maybe the only one. No matter the opinions of those around us all, it’s our duty and honor as Oleander Fallows’ Bonds to find whoever is responsible for this and deal with them.
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel so hard that the leather creaks in protest, but Harrison ignores the signs of his impending death, or maybe he doesn’t spot them in the first place. He has the loyalty and the perception of invincibility despite the death and carnage we’ve endured, traits that have seen him climb the ranks with ease. None of that changes the fact that he’s young and has an inflated ego, one that’s proving to be a real hazard for him while we’re on protection duty.
When the silence in the van stretches on, he raises an eyebrow at me with a scoff that is petulant enough to pass for a bratty huff. “You really think she’s worth kicking Robert Morley’s kid out of Draven like that? That man is a fucking nightmare—what the hell am I even saying? You’re in a Bond Group with the Dravens, clearly your survival instincts have been damaged beyond repair.”
Morley is a degenerate asshole who’s been on North’s watchlist for over a decade, but none of that even factored into my decision to throw Zoey out. She attacked my Bond. It was planned out, maliciously executed, and gave a true insight into how inept the Gifted would be as a Tac operative.
Honestly, Zoey is lucky she’s still breathing.
Harrison just keeps talking shit, slipping further into dangerous territory with every passing second. “I hope she’s worth all this, Shore. Your list of enemies is growing, and all for some airhead, mouthy girl?—”
My bond surges to the surface and takes my Gift along with it. I have control of his mind before I even realize I’ve lashed out. His body freezes in that unnatural way that marks the use of my Gift, like he’s suddenly made of stone, except for the obvious panic in his eyes.
Waiting a full minute, I finally turn to stare him down, my own eyes filled with all of the fury he set alight. “The Dravens aren’t the only monsters out there, Harrison. You really shouldn’t forget that.”
We followGabe and my Bond all the way to Draven without incident. Once there, the Delta TacTeam takes over guarding my Bond to stop any students from dropping dead in terror at ourBond Group all being in close quarters. It’s infuriating, but I can’t argue that my Bond is safer without me in this instance.
Once I’m sure she’s safe, Harrison and I head to the Training Center. Vivian is down in his office and the rest of my team is either training or on surveillance already, so I get Harrison into the sparring ring with Black to work off some of his asshole attitude, while I start in on the council reports North has oh-so-kindly left for me to trawl through.
It’s page after page of elitist bullshit.
Ignorance and pride are in every disgusting word, but it’s exactly this crap that kills people, so I have no choice but to read it all and flag any names that need to be investigated more thoroughly. Unsurprisingly, it’s almost every name I come across, but I wasn’t really expecting anything different.
I lose track of time, and when a coffee cup appears in front of me, I’m shocked to find Nox standing across from me. There’s a cup in his own hand and an overflowing file tucked under his arm along with his tablet. He looks like the harried and brooding professor he was only months ago, before our Bond was found and the small pocket of peace he’d carved out was hit by a landmine.
He looks just like the friend I used to confide in over drinks at the bar or share looks of disdain with during meetings that would last for hours longer than they really needed to. I wouldn’t trade my Bond for a single thing, not a person or material object, but there’s still a guilt-soaked grief creeping in the back of my mind at the toll Nox has taken.
Without any other greeting, he takes a seat across from me and sets his research on the desk. “I need Black to Transport me somewhere today, if you can spare him.”
Taking a mouthful of the peace-offering coffee, I lean back in my seat. “I can spare him, but I’m not going to sign offon reckless impatience. We still have time to get protections in place before we find the Magnifier.”
He shakes his head, his face still neutral. “This isn’t about that Gifted, and it’s nowhere near any Resistance operations—at least, that we know of. I’ve found something… else. I can’t be sure of what it is without seeing it for myself. Your Gifts would also potentially be useful.”