Page 26
Story: Rise (The Dissenter Saga #3)
MARA
“ M ara?”
Oh my god…how ridiculously embarrassing. “Uh, hi?”
Calista crossed her arms, glaring at me like I had interrupted a special moment, which was true. Hadn’t I just interrupted something intimate between them? Wasn’t she all grabby and handsy and just about ready to undress him in the middle of a damn hallway ?
Oh lord, I feel sick.
Wes bent over, taking my arm, and helped me to my feet. “What were you doing back there?” Did I detect a hint of annoyance?
I scrambled. “Um…I-I was…”
“Looking for your brain ?” Blondie snarked. “I think it’s safe to say that you left it back in that ditch—”
“ Cassie ,” Wes growled at her.
She turned on him, arms out. “What? She was eavesdropping! And poorly , for that matter. ”
My cheeks flushed, but I glared at her, nonetheless. If only she knew how many girls I punched in the face for far less in prison. “Yeah? Well, at least I’m not a slut.”
“Why you little bitch,” she sneered at me, taking a step closer with a closed fist.
“Hey!” Wes shouted as he inserted himself between us. “ Enough .”
I turned on him. I was so insanely jealous, so freaking bitter. Here I was feeling guilty about my behavior, and he was about ready to go down in the middle of a freaking hallway.
“No need to get involved, Wes,” I sniped back. “I get it. It’s all perfectly clear to me now. But did it really have to be her ? Of all the freaking women in the world, it had to be her ?”
Wes glared at me, all stone-hard lines. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
My hands balled into fists, nails digging into the flesh of my palm. “Shows me what kind of guy you are at least. Last night you’re kissing me and now you’re here with her!” I accused.
Wes’s eyes blazed. “Well, at least Cassie doesn’t lie and keep things from me.” He stepped into me, leaning in.
Too close. Much too close. I could feel his breath on me. Felt the heat rippling off his body.
“When Cassie wants something, she makes it very clear. She doesn’t pretend to care when she doesn’t, which is more than I can say for you .”
It was a punch to the gut, and it hurt. It hurt so much. But he was right. I was a liar.
I was a liar and a schemer, and I was no better than my own father.
Wes wasn’t mine anymore either. He might have kissed me last night, but I broke up with him long before that.
I destroyed the bridge that led me to him on my way down to hell.
I destroyed us. That shit was on me, and it was better this way.
It really was. He’d be safe from the sinkhole I’d become.
But that didn’t mean I had to stand here and watch it happen .
“You’re right,” I said softly.
Surprise flitted across his face.
“I’m sorry.” I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans, and exited stage left.
I heard him sigh my name, calling after me. But I didn’t stop. I kept going, and Wes didn’t come after me.
***
At some point, I ran. Down one hall, up another, and when I felt I couldn’t run any more, I yanked on the handle of a door and threw myself into the room beyond, slamming the door closed behind me. I spun, placing my hands on the firm wood, and slowly fell to my knees.
Wes and Calista.
She won. She won and I couldn’t even be angry about it. But I could be sad. I could be so sad because heartache was the worst pain there was. I had been hit, shot, bitten, and scourged, and none of it compared to the ache of a broken heart. I dropped my face into my hands and let the tears come.
It hurt so much.
Cut like a thousand knives.
Ripped like a thousand canines.
Pierced like a thousand bullets.
Tore at the flesh of my heart like a thousand lashings.
And this is what I did to him…on purpose . I broke his heart on purpose to save him. Except that it didn’t save him.
If the heartache Wes felt was anything compared to what I was feeling now, then I destroyed him. I did the least merciful thing imaginable, all while patting myself on the back for being a devoted lover.
Pa-lease. Get over yourself .
My hands trembled and I sniffed. I had to let him go. I had to let him live his life. He was the freaking president for god’s sake. I wasn’t cut out for that kind of life, anyway.
It was better this way. But I wasn’t going to be able to stay here and watch. Oh, heck no… I’d have to find someplace else to live, but…where? I had nothing. I had no one. I was so freaking alone, and it was all so messed up. I blew out a breath, feeling the heavy weight of the situation I was in.
“A lady does not whimper on the floor like a dog, Miss de la Puente.”
I startled, looking over my shoulder. I was so desperate to hide, that I didn’t even pay attention to where I was or check to make sure I was alone. And I was most definitely not alone.
“Mrs. Calvernon,” I muttered as I got to my feet. Great…just what I freaking needed. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Didn’t realize you entered an occupied room uninvited?” she offered.
Marissa and I weren’t chummy, clearly . I respected her greatly, but she hated my guts. When Sasha promised me to Wes to benefit her rebellion, Marissa stood against it. In her book, I was the reason Chase was dead, and I would be the reason Wes would meet the same fate.
At the time, I resented her for disliking me so much. But now—after the night I had, after everything that had happened between Wes and I—I understood her. I may not have killed Wes physically, but I murdered his soul.
And that was worse.
Grimacing, I muttered another apology under my breath, and turned to leave.
“Wait.”
I froze.
“Come sit with me.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Excuse me? ”
“A lady doesn’t stand with her mouth open, Miss Mara. Kindly close your mouth and come sit with me.”
I snapped it closed. Is she serious?
I walked to Marissa, making note of the room.
It was a library, much like the one in the Presidential Palace.
But where the shelves of my childhood were filled with trinkets, urns, and oddities, these shelves were filled with something else.
Something I didn’t recognize. I treaded lightly to the two wingback chairs in front of an impressive stone fireplace.
She pointed to the empty seat across from her, and slowly, as though this might be a well-crafted trap, I slipped into the chair.
Marissa was dressed in a gorgeous, vintage long black dress with long sleeves and a turtleneck.
The fabric around her neck, however, was lace, looking so elegant and refined as her creamy skin poked through.
Her blonde hair flowed in luscious wavy locks pinned up on either side of her head, framing ruby red lips and hazel eyes—just like Wes.
She tilted her head to the side, measuring me up, and I suddenly felt self-conscious.
I rubbed my shoulder, feeling my skin prickle.
“Why were you crying?” Stoic face. Emotionless voice. Crisp, clean, and calm.
I rubbed my lips. I wasn’t going to have this conversation with her. “I just had a rough night.”
Her eyes pierced me, and I had this sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t buying it. Her lips pursed before she looked at the object in her hand. “Do you know what this is?”
“No.”
“It’s a book.”
My eyes widened. “A book? Like, a real book?”
Marissa smiled, catching me off guard. Of course, she wasn’t smiling at me .
She was smiling at the object in her hand.
“Yes, a real book.” Her eyes drifted upwards.
“I’ve spent much of my time tracking what is left of them.
Each one a treasure every time I manage to locate one. Would you like to hold it? ”
I bit my bottom lip, nervous, but I nodded.
She held it out to me, and I took it, surprised by its weight.
The top and back were hard, but the interior was filled with pages and words.
And as I flipped through, the scent of age and dust wafted up to my nose.
We had digital books in Telvia, but very few since so many were lost in the wars.
Almost everything was digital now. There was some paper, but it was used rarely and mostly just by the wealthy.
It was fascinating to see an actual book.
“That one is one of my favorites,” Marissa said. “It contains the sonnets written by Sir William Shakespeare. I used to make the boys read them when they were young.”
I arched a brow. “ Wes read Shakespeare ?”
Marissa nodded, her face still emotionless. “Yes. It was important to me that they knew about love. And no one writes about love better than Shakespeare.”
I smiled, glancing at the book in my hand once again. “I can’t believe Wes read Shakespeare…”
“And why is it so hard to believe?”
I looked at her, my brows reaching my hairline. “Are you serious? Have you met your son? He’s all rough and tough and obscenities. I’m pretty sure he holds the world record for most f-bombs spoken in a single evening,” I added, handing the book back to her.
And then, something happened. Something so bizarre I thought for sure it meant the ground was going to open and swallow me whole.
Marissa Calvernon—mother to the President of the North—laughed. She actually laughed. My jaw dropped as she giggled daintily, like the proper woman she was.
And then, because I honestly couldn’t believe this was happening and it absolutely had to be a dream…I laughed too. We both just laughed.
After a moment, Marissa sighed, looking lighter somehow. Like she had shaken a shroud that had weighed her down since we first met. “He is rather gruff at times, now, isn’t he? ”
I didn’t think it was a real question, but I lifted my hand and pinched my fingers together. “Just a little.”
She chuckled again. And this time, when she smiled, she stared right at me. “Chase was always more refined, more…” she paused as though she was searching for the word, “ suave . He was an instant hit with the girls at school, you know.”
Oh, I did know. I remembered. “He was like that in Telvia too. Girls were just itching for him to apply as their match.”
“Oh?” Marissa placed a finger to her cheek. Her eyes glistened with mischief. “And what about you? Were you—how did you say it— itching ?”
We just took a sharp turn into Weirdsville.
She couldn’t possibly be asking me this question for real.
“Uh, well…kind of, yeah. Chase was different. He was the only one that I felt ever saw me besides my brother. I was the First Daughter of Telvia, but I was invisible.” I chuckled sadly under my breath.
“The day the Dissenters took me from the Palace, I just walked right out the service entrance. The officer on duty saw my face. He actually saw my face but believed the fake identity on his retinal scanner instead.” I shook my head.
“I mean, what does that tell you? I was the daughter that my parents wished didn’t exist, so I guess I just…
didn’t . Everyone saw my brother, but I was nothing more than his shadow. ”
Marissa’s face revealed nothing. She seemed to weigh my words before finally asking, “It was different with Chase?”
I smiled, remembering those days in Telvia.
“Yes. He—” my voice caught, but I swallowed and eased myself back into the thought.
“He was different sometimes. Like, sometimes he saw me, but not really. And then other times it was like I was the only thing that existed, the only thing that mattered. That’s when I felt seen. ”
Marissa’s expression shifted—something like recognition, a deep knowing—and then it was gone. She dropped her hands in her lap, covering the book. “Do you think of him often? ”
“No.” I said honestly, knowing that it probably sounded callus. “I used to. It felt like all I ever thought about was him. But not anymore.”
“Because you think of Wes.” It wasn’t a question.
Her eyes peered into mine like she was pulling out the truths from the depths of my soul. And I felt so exposed, so naked, so vulnerable . “Yes.”
“You love my son.”
I took a deep breath through my nose, feeling my chest rise. I didn’t want to lie to Marissa Calvernon. Not today. “Yes.”
She stared, reading me. And I wondered then if she could read me. If she could read me as easy as the words on the pages of her book.
“You hurt him.”
I grimaced. Nodded. “I know.”
“He deserves someone who will treat him with love and respect, Mara. Someone who will not lie and cheat him.”
“Yes. You’re right.” Everything she said was true.
Wes deserved all of those things and so much more.
And none of that equated to me. I’d already proven that.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I whispered, wanting out of this conversation as fast as possible.
I stood up quickly and made it halfway across the room when Marissa called my name.
I stopped, but I didn’t dare turn around.
“We all have demons, Miss de la Puente. And though you might tremble like a lamb, you must not go gentle into the storm.”
I turned to face her, confused and startled by her words.
“No matter the nightmares you face, dear, remember this…love is always worth the sacrifice. Love is always worth fighting for.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 26 (Reading here)
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