Chapter 41
Eyes Like Obsidian
JESSICA
Seven Years Ago
Ilose my foothold of the forty-foot climbing wall in the middle of the outdoor obstacle course.
I scramble to find purchase with my foot and reach with my other hand for a climbing hold above, but a sharp shooting pain stabs at my ribs.
I miss. My foot slips, and I start to fall.
I use my magic to try to soften my fall, but it’s too late.
I slam to the ground, hitting my back and head.
Clutching my side, I groan in pain. What is wrong with me? Rubbing the center of my chest, I feel my magic there, but why isn’t it working? Lately, it’s been so inconsistent. I don’t know how to correct it. Anders’s instructions don’t seem to matter.
A slight move increases the pain in my side. My entire body feels like it was run over by a semi-truck carrying a load of cement. I turn my head to see two large feet in my line of vision.
“Just shoot me. Put me out of my misery,” I mumble.
Ean crouches. “What the hell is your problem?”
My problem is that I suck. I have been in the recruit program for three months. Three stinking months, and instead of improving, I keep dropping down the scoring board. I was among the top three when I started. Now, I’m lucky if I can stay above fifteenth place.
I train like everyone else, and at night, I train more. I also study for my college courses, and my job demands I produce songs. Maybe Anders is right. He says I need to focus on one thing and get some sleep.
“Seriously, just get it over with and shoot me.”
A deep rumble vibrates from Ean’s chest. Of course he would find this shit funny. “Stop acting like my sister and man up.” He reaches over, tosses my hat and glasses at me, and extends a hand.
“I’m not a man. I just look like a twelve-year-old boy, remember.” I push his hand away, glowering, and gingerly sit up. I roll my neck, and it pops back into place. Sometimes, I miss my long hair on the back of my neck. But that also reminds me of what else I gave up that day.
I gave up the man I had started to fall in love with, a man who reminds me every day how much he hates my guts.
“What is really going on with you?” Ean asks.
I eventually stand, avoiding his gaze. “I’m hungry and tired,” I whine.
He grabs me by the shoulders. “Talk.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I reply, “Fine. I work my ass off to be here. I do everything asked of me. I train harder than everyone else, and I still keep falling down the scoreboard. My magic is all wonky and—”
Ean leans in and narrows his eyes. “Bullshit. Try again.” I try to wiggle out of his death grip when a sharp pain shoots up from my ribs. Nausea rips through me, and I immediately lose my lunch. After I expel the meager contents in my stomach, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Clinic. Now!” Ean growls.
Still lost in my self-pitying thoughts, Mimi hands me a gown and instructs me to go to one of the examination rooms. Shit! Which room number did she say?
I peek into the first room I come across.
It’s empty so I step inside and close the door.
I toss my hat and glasses onto the exam table and begin to remove my layers of clothing.
I didn’t wear a bra or my bindings today because my ribs already hurt from Beaver’s jab earlier.
That asshole, while most of the guys pick on me, it’s mostly practical jokes and pranks.
But Beaver is a straight-up bully. When he starts with me, he’s out for blood.
I didn’t think I could hate anyone, but I loathe him.
One day, I will hand him his ass and maybe even break those large front teeth of his.
“Hey, Doc! I forgot to ask—”
Instinctively, I cover my chest and spin so my back faces the door.
“G?” Owen asks.
Still looking straight ahead, I clear my throat and answer in my raspiest voice, “Uh, yeah?”
“Holy crap, man. I always thought it was odd that you wore so much clothing. What the hell happened to you?”
“Can we talk about it later?” I reach over for the clinic’s examining gown, but I gasp at the catch in my ribs, and it drops to the floor.
He rushes forward. Panic rises as I desperately search for an escape or a place to hide. Of course, I chose a room without a bathroom.
Owen grabs me by the shoulder and turns me.
“You alright? What the hell…” He bends down to pick up the gown, his gaze traveling directly to my partially exposed breast. I snatch it from his hand and cover the front of my body.
He pulls his hand away, as if the briefest touch of my skin burned him, and steps back.
“That’s a... you have a... shit!” He claps his hand over his eyes.
“It’s a… a bruise,” I stammer as I try my best to cover myself up with the gown.
“Yeah, that’s a big... uh... bruise. Right.” He continues backward, bumping into cabinetry along the wall, until finally he approaches the door. He drops his hand, focusing intently on my face. “I should... uh... I should... Fuck!”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Leave?”
He nods, spins around, and fights with the door—pushing it first when it should be pulled open. It is comical, really, but the fear clogging my throat isn’t funny.
The door swings open, hitting him in the face. Shadow’s tall frame fills the doorway. He takes one look at me and the haphazard gown I clutch over my upper half and then turns to Owen. “Get out,” he snarls.
Owen pulls the door wider and slips past Shadow, without a farewell glance.
Great, just fucking great.
Shadow slams the door and instantly stands in front of me. His upper lip pulls into a sneer, and he snatches my arm. “What the fuck was he doing in here?” Dark eyes drill into mine.
“He walked into the wrong room.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
I grind my teeth against the pain from his long fingers digging into the flesh of my arm. “He walked into the wrong room,” I repeat with heat behind my words.
He steps closer, leaning in. The entirety of his eyes turn into a shiny black, like obsidian. “Did he see you? Did he see what’s mine?”
Fear for Owen prickles up my spine. “It was an accident. He walked into the wrong room.” I hold eye contact, refusing to cower.
“Did he see what’s mine?” he snaps, shaking me.
Another sharp pain rips through me. “You’re hurting me!” I snap. I grab his wrist, digging my nails into his skin. “Let go!”
“Hurting you? I suffer every day looking at you, longing for you. Every part of my heart and soul aches without you. Do you have any idea what it feels like to find a pubescent male child in here with you half-naked?” His obsidian eyes search my own.
My distorted image stares back at me, reflecting my own grief and pain.
“It’s like someone shoved a searing iron into my heart. ” His deep gravelly voice breaks.
I rest my forehead against his chest. “You deserve better,” I whisper, afraid to say more.
He clutches the nape of my neck and pulls me back, forcing me to face him.
“What I deserve? What I deserved was a chance to prove my loyalty, my devotion to you. I deserved a chance to show you that, together, we could overcome any obstacles. Instead, you pushed me away and chose a manchild over me!”
What the hell is he talking about? I didn’t choose anyone over him. Why would he think that? “It was an accident!”
“That was no accident,” he grits through clenched teeth.
A knock at the door interrupts us. Suddenly, Shadow disappears.
“Just a minute,” I call out in a shaky voice.
“I’ll give you a few more minutes,” Dr. York answers from the other side of the door.
I’m standing next to Dr. York as he shows me the X-ray of my chest. “You see these markings? They are old fractures. But these three here are new. You must have sustained them when you were hit yesterday. See how this one overlaps onto itself? This is called a displaced fracture. You may have done that when you fell from the rock climbing wall.” He sighs.
“I’m afraid I have to pull you out of the program. ”
My head whips around to look at him. “What? Why?”
“I know how much being in the program means to you, but the risk of you puncturing a lung is too high. Another hit or another fall… is all it will take because you can’t heal like—”
“Everyone else. I get it,” I interject.
He grimaces, knowing full well that it’s a sensitive issue for me. “I can’t in good conscience allow you to remain in the program. I’m sorry, Jessica.”
Tears burn behind my eyelids. “You can’t. I need this. I need to be here. Please!”
Remorse crosses his features—that same look when he said he wanted to meet with my parents to discuss my lab results. “Get dressed and I’ll call Anders to meet us here.”
There is nothing left to say. I can’t bargain with him. I can’t promise to be a better recruit or promise not to get hit again. There's nothing I could do.
I simply nod. Furious with myself—furious at the circumstances—I kick the chair, sending it crashing across the room.