Page 87 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

FORTY-EIGHT

EMMA

It had been a few weeks since our time at Alliance.

The United Chiefs had come and gone, interrogating us all on the events and actions of the Board, but as all our stories had lined up, they ruled there was no reason to doubt our integrity and left us be.

They did inform us they’d seize temporary power over the magi world, and would establish a new Board of Directors, in time for the Great Exposure.

In the meantime, James’s distrust toward Julian had grown to massive proportions, as had our daily fights about him.

Julian leaving in the midst of battle had ensured any suspicion James had regarding his intentions and character, had tripled.

And me still willing to believe Julian’s good nature, was apparently an even graver offense, which he reminded me of regularly during our scheduled training sessions.

One of the worst fights we had was on a Monday morning, just before we started my physical training at the Scola.

The tension between us had already mounted to heights I had never thought possible, and standing there, facing each other, ready to fight each other physically, seemed to somehow enhance our lack of understanding.

His eyes bore into mine, a mix of frustration and concern etched across his face. I could feel the anger radiating from him, and it made my hair stand on end. I wasn't scared of James, but his escalating rage and violence had reached a point of volatility that did leave me a little on edge.

"Why the fuck are you being so stubborn about this?" James demanded, his voice rising. "You’re one of the most insightful people I’ve ever met, you know damn well Julian is not who he pretends to be. He has an agenda, and you're willingly choosing to be blind to it!"

I crossed my arms, attempting to remain calm. "James, I've known Julian since we were kids. He's been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not being stubborn, I hear what you’re saying but I’m not choosing to be blind, I’m choosing to trust him."

"Same fucking thing!” James shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “Will you open your godsdamn eyes? How can you trust him when all he’s ever done is lie to you? Even when you were kids, he didn’t tell you who or what he really was! "

I took a step forward, my own frustration building. "I know Julian lost your respect when he left us at Alliance but that doesn’t mean he’s a threat. He's my friend."

James's jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath, as if trying to control the surge of emotions within him. "Emma, I can't just stand back and watch you ignore the warning signs. You're too important to me."

I felt a pang of discomfort at his words. "I can handle my own relationships. I don't need you trying to control every aspect of my life."

His eyes flashed with a mixture of hurt and anger. "This is not about control. It's about protecting you from someone who's clearly not what he seems."

I scoffed, feeling the heat rise within me.

"Well, that’s rich coming from you. What about you, James?

You act like you're some guardian angel, but you never told me the truth about yourself. You distrust Julian for not telling me who he was as a kid, but how’s that fair when you’ve been keeping secrets from me all this time? "

James's expression hardened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before he masked it with determination. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have kept no secrets from you.”

“Bullshit!” I spat, barely able to contain my anger at his dishonesty.

“What the fuck Emma, how can you doubt me ? You’re the one person who knows me best!” he shouted angrily.

“Really? Is that so?” I narrowed my eyes at his obvious lie, “Fine, then tell me James, if you’re so open and honest. What aren’t you telling me about your history with Dale?

What aren’t you telling me about your ascension to Leadership?

What kind of work did you do for the Council before my arrival?

Who did you kill back when you were a kid?

Or tell me, why is your Skindo-tattoo etched on your right forearm instead of your left, like every other Offensive? ”

James grew very still but I pressed on.

“You claim you’re so open with me. You say I know you? I don’t know a damn thing!”

I couldn't help but release a bitter laugh without any trace of humor. “Hell, what’s even your real name?”

He clenched his jaw. "That's different, Emma. Whatever I've kept from you is to protect you. Julian, on the other hand, is a threat to you."

“So you finally admit you’re keeping things from me?” I crossed my arms, scrutinizing him.

He looked away, sighing, a complex mix of emotions flickering in his eyes. “You know everything about me I’m at liberty to say.”

“Nah ah,” I shook my head, the frustration evident in my voice, “that’s not good enough. Not when you’re actively trying to keep me away from a life-long friend who’s, by the way, been a lot more open about himself than you’ve ever been.”

“I can’t believe you’d say that!” he snapped. “You’re trusting Julian over me? After everything we’ve been through? After he left us at Alliance?”

“He left us to get help!” I yelled, frustrated to have the same fight over and over again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” James punched one of the heavy bags. Hard.

A huge lump started to form in my throat, prohibiting me to speak much further.

“Fine. You want to know why my tattoo is on my right forearm instead of my left?” he snarled angrily, his breathing irregular and hard.

“I’ll fucking show you why.” His cerulean haze came on so fast I almost missed it. It swirled around his arm and slowly edged out his tattoo.

I gasped at the sight of his bare forearm, completely covered in what were clearly burn scars.

The skin was a patchwork of discoloration, with areas so much lighter or darker than the rest, creating a stark contrast that drew my eyes.

The texture was disturbingly irregular, thick and leathery in some places, while raised and bumpy in others.

“What in gods‘ names happened to you?” I breathed, pushing back the tears welling up.

He swirled back his haze, once again covering up his scars with his Skindo-tattoo.

“Let’s just say there was a reason I wasn’t exactly focused on my emotional pain during my years in foster care,” James hissed.

My heart broke. So did my voice. “I am so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Don’t pity me. It made me who I am today. Which is First Offensive and future Leader." He paused. "And someone you should trust, above all others.”

I swallowed. After such a revelation, he was still on the whole Julian thing?

“Why do we keep fighting about this?” I whispered, trying to dissolve the tension between us.

James clenched his fists. “Because you don’t trust my judgement on this.”

“And you don’t trust mine!” I retorted.

James took a deep breath and started packing up his stuff.

“What, you’re just going to leave in the middle of our fight?” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“No Emma, I’m leaving to make sure I don’t say anything I’ll regret. Let’s take a few to cool off. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

He turned around and left the room without another word.

I didn’t see or hear from him again until Thursday.

It was early Thursday-morning, and I found myself bracing for another class—or what felt like another impending screaming match with James.

Our fights about Julian had left the question on the existence of our “situationship” in the air.

Despite the constant irritation James provoked, I couldn't ignore the fact that I was still falling head over heels in love with him.

A part of me, the larger part of me, yearned for him to simply acknowledge our hopefully mutual feelings for each other.

I realized his past had left him more scarred than I could ever imagine, and I didn’t mean that in the physical sense. Trust-issues were clearly ingrained in his character and there was but one way I’d ever tear down his walls and it wouldn’t be by trusting someone else over him.

Intending to avoid yet another fight, I decided that morning to keep my mouth shut and focus on my training.

Each time James attempted conversation, I responded with a mere grunt, diverting my attention entirely to the physical exertion.

It felt strangely out of character for me, but I was too exhausted to engage in a verbal duel once again.

James, always attuned to my nuances, sensed the shift in my behavior.

Unable to resist the urge to unravel my silence, he probed, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, the word escaping like a reluctant prisoner.

"You're acting strange," he observed, concern lacing his words.

"Okay." I sighed, not willing to take the bait.

"Did something happen?" His tone now carried a note of alarm.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. I simply didn’t want to fight.

"No." The monosyllabic response hung between us in a feeble attempt to shield myself from the impending storm of questions and arguments.

James stopped our training, his glare transforming into one of intense fury directed at me.

"Did he hurt you?" he demanded growling, his voice full of unspoken threats, his words heavy with the implication of Julian's potential involvement.

"What? No! Why would you think that?" I gasped in disbelief. I knew he was fixated on Julian having an ulterior motive but he was really losing his mind!

"Godsdammit!" he hurled, unleashing his frustration by smashing his fist against the wall. As he turned back to face me, I instinctively jerked backward.

His eyes widened, and he whispered, "Are you scared of me?"

There was a tremor in my voice as I quickly responded, "No."

His demeanor shifted from anger to anguish, and I struggled to read the emotions flickering in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I would never hurt you, I hope you know that," he said, his voice trembling. I swallowed but couldn't find any reassuring words.