Broken Pieces, Page 3

  “You have good arms, you need to work them. She is weak,” Father says, pointing to Rebekah, and now I’m the one sighing in annoyance. She’s perfect the way she is. She just needs a formula that works. “She needs the extra pieces.”

  “I’m not weak, and I’m fine,” she spits back before I can.

  “Ah, we shall see. But enough for today. We have a meeting.”

  “A meeting?” she asks and, crap, I thought she knew. This won’t be good.

  As I reach for my shirt, I feel her eyes on me as she asks, “What meeting?”

  “Not you, my love. You go rest.”

  When I look back at her, she’s glaring, her shoulders back taut, the frustration coming off her in a tidal wave. She isn’t allowed to go to the family meetings. She’s too young, according to my father. But, really, he just wants to keep her in the dark because he feels it’s all too much for her. The fact that she can’t be immortal like us is enough for her to handle, no reason to give her the rest of the problems of the Patchwork. Plus, he feels she’ll get scared, and he can’t have that happen to his baby. He wants her to feel safe at all times, and I do too. But I truly believe knowledge is power, and the more she knows, the stronger she’ll be.

  Squeezing her fist, she tips her chin up. “But I want to go to the meeting. What’s the meeting about?”

  “You’re too young,” Father says, giving life to my previous thought, but I know that’s not enough for her.

  Sliding my feet into my tennis shoes, I meet her heated gaze. “It’s not a big deal. Just a matter we have to address. Stupid shifter shit,” I explain, my green eyes drilling into hers. I want her to be quiet, I don’t want her causing a fight, but even I know that is a pointless request.

  “But I want to know. When do I get to know?”

  “When you’re older,” my father says dismissively as he starts for the door, but she’s right on his heels, her hands going up in the air.

  “But Cyrus gets to go? He’s one year older than me! Plus, I’m way smarter than him, you’ve said it yourself.”

  I scoff, looking back at Cyrus, who is pulling his head out of his shirt and glaring. “Hey!”

  She isn’t lying, though, she’s a very smart girl, Cyrus…well, he’s good at other things. That’s why we’ve always said, “Thank God Cyrus is pretty.”

  Before I can razz him any, my father is speaking again, and I look up as Rebekah’s body flushes with exasperation. “It’s nothing that concerns you. The boys, yes, because they fight for this family—”

  “Then let me fight!” she yells, and I shake my head. I appreciate her tenacity, I do, but I need her to be immortal before she fights. She could take down armies of people, I know she can, but one stick of a blade in her heart and it’s over. Her heart beats loudly, ours don’t. Until her heart matches ours, she can’t fight for this family. No matter how much she wants to.

  “So you can die? No, I love you more than that. Now, go on.”

  “No! I want to be involved. I want to feel included. I’m always locked away, I never get to do anything. Be a part of anything. Father, let me be a part of this family,” she implores, and while I agree it’s not fair, I don’t understand how she doesn’t get that we are trying to protect her.

  “You are,” he stresses, and I can see the pain on his face. He loves us epically, but especially her. I know he feels like a failure when it comes to the baby of this family. He feels he should be able to save her, and he hasn’t been able to yet and it weighs heavy on his heart. I’ve offered to take over everything so he can focus on just her, but Father won’t budge.

  And while my offer may be for my own selfish reasons, I also want my sister to be immortal like us. I hate seeing her struggling.

  “But we have to protect you,” he reminds her, and I suck in a deep breath. She doesn’t like being babied.

  “No, you don’t. I can protect myself. I am a part of this family, yes? I’m an adult. Let me be involved.” She crosses her arms over her chest as his gaze holds hers. “You don’t let me do anything. I don’t go to meetings, I don’t get to go out, and it’s not right. Especially when the boys get to do whatever they want.”

  She has a point, but again, it is pointless. He won’t let her go until she is immortal. It’s that simple. Coming up behind her, I place my hand on the small of her back. She flinches a little, ready for the fight, until she sees it’s me. She then calms a bit, her eyes hopeful as I meet my father’s annoyed gaze. “Father, if I may, I feel she’s at the age where she can handle everything. She’s smarter than all of us and just as strong. I feel it may be time to allow her in on some things.”

  She beams at me while Jonas nods. “And let’s be honest, she’ll get in there and get bored. So really, let’s just entertain her.

  She glares back at Jonas as he wraps his arm around her, kissing her temple.

  Clearing his throat, Cyrus adds, “She’s part of this family, and since she is part of the threat, she needs to know.”

  “Threat?” Rebekah asks, concern bubbling in her voice, and my eyes drift shut. This is what we wanted to protect her from. All the bad in the world. Our world. Well, maybe not the whole world, just the damn Kelleys, the shifter clan. “What threat?”

  Letting out an annoyed breath, Father shakes his head. “To my office.”

  With that and the winning grin on my sister’s face, I know she has won.

  Which means I guess it’s time to let her in on the dealings of the Patchwork.

  I just hope she can handle it.

  My father’s office always reminds me of the office from The Godfather.

  Sometimes I feel like I’ll walk in here and see Don Vito Corleone behind the desk, that’s how much it reminds me of the film. It’s very old and rustic. Full of all the treasures my father has collected over the many years of his life. It’s almost like stepping back in time, and while my siblings might like it, I don’t. I like the modern look more, or maybe it’s because this room just reminds me of the old rules, the old way, and I’m ready for the new way. I’m ready for a new Patchwork.

  One I’ll run.

  But alas, I haven’t found the Godfather behind the desk, only my father, someone who instills fear in almost everyone he meets. Mostly because he looks like he has one foot in the grave. He’s ancient, looks almost mummified. Very Tales of the Crypt, which is why everyone is scared to talk to him. Not me, though. I’m not scared of him. Not as a person. But his power…that’s a whole other story.

  While I’m scared of it, I want it. I want to be the king he isn’t, and I will be. I’m just not sure when since I was actually already supposed to be in command. When my name day came—we call it the Ceremony of the Patchwork—it was said I would take over command on my twenty-fifth birthday. Father figured by then he would be ready to retire. To my dismay, he also had put in the contract in very small print that it was up to him if he was ready to step down. No one else. Just him, and because of that, I just celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday, and I’m still not in command.

  Bullshit.

  I sit down first around the round table that is positioned to the left of my father’s desk in his big office. While the office is old, it’s not small. There are three rooms connected as one. To the left of the round table is also a large library, then his actual office, and then his sitting room for when he needs to think. I don’t want this office when I take over, but that’s something I’ll worry about when it’s time.

  Cyrus and Jonas sit first, with JJ and then Rebekah right behind them. She positions herself beside me with an almost scared look on her face. She’s probably tormenting herself about the threat thing, and I hate that Cyrus said something. I wish she wasn’t even here, but then no one would get any peace. The poor girl is always locked away; she needs to be involved, no matter how much that scares me.

  As I watch my father sit, he doesn’t do so smoothly. His movements are jerky before he folds his old, leathery hands together and his eyes scan the roo
m. The scars are very prominent on his face and hands. All the experiments he did on himself are visible, along with the scar tissue that is ancient and freakish on him. While his eyes are bright, from the new pair he just obtained, he looks like death. And tired. Very tired.

  Clearing his throat, he lets his gaze fall on me, and I meet it head on.

  “I had a meeting with Kurt Conner.”

  Kurt Conner.

  The pack leader of the wolves.

  My love’s father.

  Clearing my throat, I sit up straighter as my forearms lay against the cool top of the old oak table. Before I can comment, though, he is going on. “He needed a loan for the wedding of Taegan.”

  What?

  My world stops.

  I feel all eyes on me. My father is staring at me, waiting for a response, but I don’t have one.

  Because what the actual fuck is going on?

  Did I hear him wrong?

  “A wedding?”

  “Yeah, she is marrying some other pack leader’s son—you know how those wolves are. Wanting to unite families with arranged marriage and all that wolfish nonsense, I don’t know. But I didn’t give him the money until—”

  “Until?” I gasp, my heart in my throat, my stomach on the ground, and every piece of me feeling as if I am falling into the fiery depths of hell because surely I am hearing my father wrong.

  Taegan is to marry me.

  “He offered up some information on Frank Kelley—”

  “He hasn’t died yet?” Jonas asks, and I know it’s to give me time. To let me think, to let me process, but I can’t. Taegan is to marry someone else? She didn’t even tell me. We were together last night! Had she known? Was she playing me? Damn it, what the hell? How could she allow me to find out this way? I mean, I knew my time was running out, but hell, did she keep this from me? I’ve never experienced heartache or true heartbreak, but I’m pretty sure this feeling of my chest caving in and blowing up is just that.

  She’s marrying someone else?

  She isn’t waiting for me?

  Gasping for breath as I try to push the bile back down my throat, I watch as my father shakes his head. “Not yet. And apparently, they are wanting to attack us in one more attempt to get the formula for him. They think they can kidnap Rebekah and use her as leverage.”

  I feel Rebekah move as she squeaks. “Me?”

  “You. So we are on high alert. Keep your eyes open, and, Rebekah, I don’t want you working at the bar until this is taken care of. I have a meeting with Frank Kelley on Friday.”

  “Father, I’m fine at the bar. It’s owned by our family, most of our family is there, along with JJ. The Kelleys don’t even come that much.”

  “Yes, but other families come to the bar, and that makes me uncomfortable.”

  “I’m fine, I can take care of myself.”

  He leans on his desk, and I don’t care about their melodrama. I can’t. Even though I know I should intervene, calm both sides—because my father is right, we need to keep Rebekah underground while this goes on—I can’t help but think of the fact that my love is marrying another. Someone other than me. How in the world is this fair? Why didn’t she fight them? She told me she was mine, and I was hers. Why didn’t she wait for me?

  And then it’s like I’m being slapped back into reality.

  She didn’t wait for me because we can’t.

  We can’t be selfish and love each other because we have commitments to our families. Yes, we love each other. Yes, she is my world, and I’ll love only her. But just like I have to, she has to protect her family. I’m sure there is something more to this, and while I wish she had told me, I know I can’t be upset. I have to respect the process of our families.

  Being the eldest, we have no choice.

  We don’t get to be greedy.

  Wow, I don’t even believe I’m trying to convince myself.

  How could she?

  Clearing my throat free of the emotion that wants to escape, I look up and pray I don’t look affected as I say, “Maybe we should take turns on her shifts to be there, help JJ out. Not that he needs the help,” I add when JJ scoffs at me. “She loves working, Father. She can’t be locked up, and we also can’t have the Kelleys knowing that we know of their plans. You know it’s unwise for them to know the wolves are working with us.”

  I feel Rebekah staring at me, along with my brothers, but my eyes are trained on my father’s. I won’t seem weak in front of him. Love makes you weak, and though I want to succumb to it, I can’t. I will lead this family, this community, and I’ll do it with fucking grace. I wanted Taegan by my side, but that isn’t attainable now. She has betrayed me, and that’s fine. I’ll move on.

  Or try to, at least.

  Who the hell am I kidding?

  Leaning back in his chair, Father watches me as I clear my throat, and I quickly form a plan in my head. My father has always complimented me on the way I can make a plan on the fly. It’s who I am, a quick thinker, and while I don’t want to deal with all this, I know I have to. I have to protect my family.

  No matter if my heart is slowly but surely breaking in my chest.

  “You take Rebekah out from behind the bar, everyone will know something is wrong. It will bring attention. It would be best to leave things as they are. We’ll be there, won’t we?” I say then to Cyrus and Jonas.

  They both agree as Father slowly draws in a breath. “Always fighting for her.”

  And I will until my last day. Whenever that is. I nod. “I love her.”

  “We all do, which is why nothing will happen to her,” Jonas adds. I don’t doubt that everyone loves Rebekah, or each other, but for some reason, I can’t appreciate that right now. As much as I wish it weren’t, my mind is still revolving around the issue of Taegan and her father asking mine for money for her wedding. Her father wants to take my love from me and then expect my family to pay for it.

  What a douche.

  “Did you give Conner the money?”

  Meeting my gaze, my father nods. “Yes.”

  My stomach just collapses on itself as I croak out, “Taegan is to marry, then?”

  The silence is so thick in the room as my father’s gaze bores into mine. I can feel the tension, especially Rebekah’s. Her heart is breaking for me. I don’t want her sympathy, nor anyone else’s. I will get through this; I’ll just be fucking pissed and heartbroken. Not that anyone else will know. No. No one will know. “I guess, but why that matters is beyond me. This infatuation you have with her is not to be given light. It would never work.”

  Stupid fucking rules. I want to scream. I want to break the table. I want to beat the hell out of my father and make him change the rule. It’s unfair!

  “You think we are at war with the shifters now? Ha! War with the wolves would be fatal,” he adds, and I pause my internal battle. He’s right. I know this. How could I be so stupid?

  Because I’m in love.

  Like a dumbass.

  “Of course, Father,” I say, slapping my hands together. “Are we done? I want to work with Rebekah some more.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Before the last word is out of his mouth, I am up and out of my chair, heading for the door. Pulling out my phone, I dial Taegan’s number, but it goes straight to voice mail. I try again, and once more, her voice mail picks up. She’s avoiding me.

  Closing my eyes, I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes, not that I’ll let them fall. I don’t cry. I’m a man. When I feel Rebekah leaning into me, I go taut as her arms wrap around mine.

  “Are you okay?” she whispers, her voice so small that all I can do is scoff to keep from crying.

  I want to take her support. I want to wrap my arms around her and beg her to make the pain go away. But she isn’t the older sibling, I am. Clearing my throat, I shrug. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Just asking,” she says, her eyes on me. I look down at her, and her eyes are full of sorrow. “I’m sorry, Osh.”


  I shake my head, disgust covering my face. “Don’t be. I’m not. If she wants to marry some fucking wolf that will beat her and treat her like shit, then let her. None of my business. She isn’t mine.”

  Those words shouldn’t be true.

  She was supposed to be mine.

  But I ran out of time.

  Slamming myself down on my bed, I lean my head into my fist as my elbows dig into my thighs. My knuckles are burning, my everything is breaking, and I feel horrible for what I did to my siblings down in the sparring room. I should have just come upstairs, cooled off, but I had to get the frustration out. I had to hit something, but I should have taken it easy because I’m pretty sure I broke Jonas’s nose. I know he can get a new one, but still, I need to apologize once more. Later. I can’t right now.

  Right now, I need to breathe.

  I haven’t been able to catch my breath.

  All I hear are my father’s words, over and over again in my head.

  Taegan is to marry.

  How did this happen? When did this happen? I haven’t heard anything. Usually, I hear about these deals from the wolves who work for us, but there has been no chatter. How, in the last twelve hours, did she go from being mine to getting engaged to some bastard? How could she? How dare she look me in the eye, tell me she loves me and that I’m hers, when obviously she hasn’t fought not to marry him? Add to that, she won’t even answer my phone calls!

  Digging in my pocket for my phone, I dial her number once more, only to be met with voice mail once more.

  “Fuck,” I groan, falling back into the bed as my eyes close, letting my phone drop to the ground. This isn’t like her. She always answers my calls. Is this my fault? Was she playing me?

  Sucking in a deep breath, I pause before tears flood my eyes.

  I smell her. She’s all over my sheets.

  Her soft, rich perfume that usually drives me mad with lust has me holding on to the sheets as I push back the tears. I just don’t understand. Have these last four years meant nothing to her? I mean, even if she has to marry this fucking bastard-ass wolf, couldn’t she respect me enough to tell me? Answer the phone, explain the situation? I’m not an idiot, I knew our time might run out, but I didn’t expect it to happen so unexpectedly.