Flawed Love: House of Obsidian
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Look at me!” she demands and I lift my head, meeting her gaze. “Don’t let me see you doubting yourself, Emalie. You deserve to be first, and I understand that he can’t just switch off his feelings, but this is his issue, it isn’t yours. You need to lay down where you stand and let him decide what it is he wants to do about it.”
“I know.” I sigh. “But I just got him back, and the idea of losing him again scares me.”
“Maybe, but wouldn’t you rather lose him than to stick around wondering if you’re second?”
She’s right. I know she’s right.
And that just hurts more.
~*~*~*~
“Hey.”
I look up from the spot on my bed to see Rainer standing at my door. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie; he looks dangerous and sexy. My heart aches and I honestly don’t know if I can just let him go. When I look at him, I know he’s in my heart, and I can’t just forget that. Even if he didn’t choose me, could I just walk away?
“Hey,” I whisper.
He walks in and holds up a bag of food, even though it’s the early hours of the morning. “You hungry?”
“Sure.”
He walks in and sits on the end of my bed, studying my face. He looks to my eye and his grow a little dark. “How’s your eye? It looks sore.”
I shrug. “I iced it. It’s fine.”
He puts the bag down and studies my face. “I should have done that. I’m sorry, kid.”
“You had other things to worry about.” I try not to let the pain shine through, but it’s there, and I can’t just switch it off.
“Yeah, but I should have looked after you, too.”
I shrug and stare at my hands. “How’s Pippa?”
“She’s okay.”
“Was it us that upset her?”
“Yeah,” he says, opening the bag. “I think she was jealous.”
“It’s not really her place to be jealous,” I say before thinking it through.
His head snaps up and he narrows his eyes. “What makes you think that?”
“She chose another man, Rainer. She sleeps with him all the time. It’s not really fair that she should be upset when it comes to you.”
He flinches, and I’m not sure if it’s because I said she sleeps with another man, or if I’ve offended him by talking about Pippa.
“Our relationship is complicated. You wouldn’t understand how it is.”
That hurts, so much I flinch. “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Listen, I’m tired. Can we do this another time?”
He looks up at me, confused. “Are my words offending you?”
“Yeah,” I say swinging my feet over the side of my bed. “You know what they are. I don’t understand your relationship with Pippa, and I won’t try and pretend to, but I do understand my relationship with you. I don’t like how you made me feel tonight, and I don’t like that she got jealous. Not because I dislike her, because I don’t, but because she made her choice and for whatever reason, you keep on hanging on.”
“You say those things because you don’t understand,” he grinds through his teeth.
“I know that!” I screech. “God, Rainer, I know I don’t understand, but you refuse to explain it to me so I’m left making my own assumptions.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he yells, throwing his hands up. “All I know is she understands me, she understands my pain and we have a bond. It’s hard to explain the kind of jealousy we feel. I don’t think I could ever fuck Pippa, but when it comes to the idea of another man doing it, I hate it. I’m possessive of her, because she was the only thing that kept me going. She’s the same with me. She loves Tyke, I know she does, but there’s something between us that’ll always be there.”
Tears run down my cheeks and I nod. “Okay.”
I turn and walk towards my bathroom.
“Jesus, Emalie . . .” he says, leaping up.
I turn to him. “Rainer, I love you, you know I love you, but right now I just need to process. Okay? I’m not angry at you. I’m grateful you told me in black and white terms how it is, but now you need to leave and let me be.”
“Emy . . .”
His voice is softer now, and it hurts.
“I’ll see you later.”
I step into the bathroom and close the door.
Then I slide down to my bottom and drop my head in my hands, before bursting into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THEN – RAINER
“Let me go!” I bellow, squirming and fighting as three guards drag me down a hall towards what I know will be a cold, dark room. “You fuckers let me go.”
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll drug you again, you little bastard,” the guard holding me barks.
“Go the fuck ahead!” I yell, kicking out.
He lifts his gun and brings it down hard over my temple. I bellow in pain and my vision swims. Fuck, how the hell did I end up here? I stole drugs, fucked with the wrong people and did all I could to protect Emy, but then the fucker I stole and cheated from caught up with me and decided to sell me. Sell. Me. I’ve overhead some conversations on the long flight here, and from what I understand, I’m going to be a working slave until I earn back the debt.
That is basically a life in prison.
The guards open and door to a stale, plain room with a line of rusty old beds. There are at least ten other slaves sitting on them, most with their heads down. Some range from young, the youngest looking about fourteen, to older, one being close to eighty. The guard throws me in and I fall, landing on my knees. I turn and go to charge him, but he slams the giant door. I shake it, bellowing loudly, but nobody answers.
None of the slaves look up. Well, except one girl. She’s maybe fourteen years old and has long, ratty blond hair. Her eyes are way too big for her small face, and she looks so innocent and young. She shouldn’t be in a place like this. She meets my eyes and we stare at each other for a while before I turn and continue my rampage against the door. After a few hours, I give up and slump down. There’s no point.
That door is locked solid.
I sit against it for what feels like hours and hours. When the night falls, it finally opens. I shuffle back, ready to charge whoever walks in, but the weapons come through the door before the people and I know I’ll be shot dead like a dog before the night is through if I try to fight. So instead, I sit back, wondering how the fuck I’m going to escape this place.
“You’re all probably wondering why you’re here,” a very tall, very ugly man says. He’s got a fine, creepy-looking face and hair that’s slicked back on his head, probably because there isn’t enough of it to cover it.
No one says anything.
They don’t need to.
He tells us exactly why we’re here.
We’re slaves.
We don’t leave until our debt is paid.
We try to run? We die.
God, Emy. I’m so sorry, baby.
~*~*~*~
ONE MONTH LATER
The blond girl got paired up with me. I feel sorry for her, because she’s so tiny and I’ve been an asshole to her. I can’t help it; I just can’t function. I can’t stop thinking about Emy. I can’t do anything but sit here and pray that she’s okay. I miss her so much it hurts.
We’ve been working on these fields for just over a month now. We’ve all lost weight, and we’re barely surviving. The sun is intense and more often than not, we end up burned and damaged from it. We’ve all grown to only care about our own survival.
These chains attached to our ankles have removed any chance of getting free. We’ve all been given a buddy, someone we’re paired up with daily. We’re responsible for each other. If our buddy tries to escape, we both die and so on. I don’t see the small blond girl trying to go anywhere; she looks as if she’s barely surviving. She is so slow and most days it makes me angry, because I just want to work hard to keep my mind from going cr
azy. Today she’s going extra slow, and I’ve had about enough of it.
She is barely moving her legs today, and I’m frustrated and angry. I shove the chains and slam into her. She stumbles forward, landing on her knees with a wince.
“Hurry up!” I bark, but instantly I feel bad when I see her lift her hands and there’s blood on them. Dammit. She’s just a kid. What the fuck is wrong with me? I go to reach down and help her when I hear a screeching sound from another slave. Then she cries, “I can’t take it anymore!”
I look to my left at a young girl who only arrived two weeks ago, to see she is dragging her partner across the lawn, stumbling as she tries to inch closer to the house. She’s waving her hands, which are the only things that are free, and screaming at the top of her lungs. Artreau appears on the porch of the massive home and stares at her.
This isn’t going to be good.
It doesn’t seem to bother her because she doesn’t stop. She leads her partner towards him; she isn’t doing so well, because she is now crawling desperately behind her, legs bound together. She throws her hands up and yells, “You can’t do this. It’s barbaric. I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life as your slave.”
Artreau’s face pinches and he storms down the patio, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a gun and everyone stops, their bodies no doubt doing the same as mine. Going stone cold. He stalks towards her, pointing the gun at her head. She doesn’t stop, and I fuckin’ swear she wants him to shoot her.
“Get back to work. You won’t get another warning,” he roars at her.
“I don’t want another warning,” she yells, “because I’m not going to go back to work. You can’t make me do this. I’m starving, and thirsty, and I’ve lost so much weight I can see my damned bones. I won’t do it. You can’t be allowed to get away with this.”
Artreau smiles, and my stomach twists with anxiety for a second as he pushes the gun into her forehead. “I can, and I will.”
Then he pulls the trigger.
Holy fucking shit. The girl next to me opens her mouth to scream, but I react quickly, wrapping my arm around her face and stopping her. He’ll kill her if she screams. Blood and gore splatter and the poor, struggling girl on the ground behind the first body starts to cry. Artreau points the gun at her head, now.
“Do you all see what happens to those who defy me?” he roars. “I told you once, and I’ll only repeat myself this one time. You’re here until your debts are paid off. The action of one is the actions of all. In this case, the actions of this girl will be the actions of her partner.”
He pulls the trigger and shoots the second girl. The girl in my arms’ knees go out from beneath her, but I hold her up with an arm around her waist. Artreau tucks his gun away and his eyes scan over all of us. They fall on the girl and me, and I tense, wondering if we’re going to be next. “Now, you.” He points to me, and then to the girl, and then he kicks one of the dead bodies in front of him. “Clean this up.”
The minute he reaches the house, the poor girl in my arms leans over to vomit. I feel my own bile rising in my throat, but I’ve seen horror in my life—this poor girl shouldn’t have to see this. I kneel down beside her, swiping a piece of damp blond hair from her face. “Hey sweetheart. It’s going to be okay, do you hear me? Tell me what your name is.”
She looks over to me, her eyes puffy and filled with so much fear I want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go. “Pippa,” she squeaks.
I cup her face. “You and I are going to stick together, okay Pippa?”
She nods.
I want to die inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NOW – MALI
It’s raining out tonight and my car lights really aren’t giving me the kind of brightness they should. I’m driving really slowly, watching the rain pound on my windscreen. Gosh, where the hell did this come from? I wish it would go away. That would make my life a whole lot easier. I squint, leaning forward to try and see through the mist it’s creating.
My phone rings on the chair beside me. I glance over quickly. Rainer again. He hasn’t stopped calling, and that’s probably because I haven’t seen him or spoken to him for more than two days. I know it’s not the right thing to do, but I’m hurting. I need to figure my mind out before I can commit to him. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s going to commit to me, so what’s the damned point in trying?
God, I’m being bitter.
My phone rings again and I sigh, picking it up and pressing it to my ear. I really shouldn’t be doing this, because it isn’t safe. I need to focus on my driving but if the phone keeps ringing like it has been, I’m going to lose my concentration anyway. I press it to my ear, keeping one hand on the wheel and my eyes fixed firmly to the road.
“Please stop calling me,” I say with a sigh.
“Jesus, really?” Rainer grunts. “You’re honestly going to act like this?”
“Yes I am,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on the road.
“Talk to me at least, for fuck’s sake. Won’t stop calling until you do.”
“Talk to you about what, Rainer? How you’re in love with a woman who you can’t let go of, yet you want to keep me around for what, exactly? Fun?”
“Don’t,” he warns. “You know I care about you.”
“No, you care for the person I used to be. The memory. You don’t care about me now, Rainer, because you don’t even know me, and if I’d never told you who I was, are you telling me you would look at me the same way right now?”
He goes silent.
“My point exactly. Now I’m driving, so goodbye.”
“Jesus, Emalie, this has been a rough few weeks, you hear me? I’m sorry things aren’t going your way, but what do you expect?”
“My way?” I snap. “Are you serious? How has any of this gone my way? If it were going my way, Rainer, you’d be looking at me and only me.”
“Emalie . . .”
“No,” I growl. “Don’t.”
He starts answering but I lose focus of what he’s saying because there’s a pair of headlights coming right at me. It takes me a few moments to realize this, but they’re definitely on my side of the road. I scream and swerve, my car launching off the side of the road. I briefly hear Rainer yell my name before my phone flies from my hand and my car soars off the side of the road.
I put both hands on the wheel, trying to get control, but I can’t seem to stop it. I cry out frantically, tears running down my cheeks. I’m about to die. Oh God, I’m going to die. My car slams into a tree with such force I’m thrown forward. Then my entire world goes black, but not before the airbag combusts and explodes into my face, probably saving my life.
I don’t know.
~*~*~*~
I blink rapidly, opening my eyes and trying to focus. It feels like I’ve just woken after running a marathon. My eyes are blurred and I can hear loud, horribly annoying beeping coming from somewhere to my right. I manage to gain some of my vision back and see a bright light on the ceiling above me. It takes a moment to realize where I am, but as my vision gets clearer and clearer, I realize I’m in a hospital.
“Emalie? Hi. How are you feeling?”
I turn my head slowly to the side to see a nurse looking at me over the top over her thin, black-framed glasses. She’s got a clipboard pressed to her chest and she’s smiling.
“What happened?” I croak.
“You were in an accident. Can you see clearly?”
I nod. “It’s getting better with each passing second.”
“Good, and can you tell me your name and date of birth?”
I rattle them off.
“Do you remember what happened?”
I close my eyes and it all comes flooding back. I was talking to Rainer on the phone when a car came onto my side of the road. I was in a car accident.
“I had a car accident,” I choke out, my voice thick with emotion.
“Yes, you did. You had to have some surgery because there was a lit
tle internal damage, so you’re going to be sore for a few weeks. Everything is looking good; you’re very lucky to be alive. The doctor will be in momentarily.”
“How long have I been in here?” I whisper.
“Only one night. You have friends waiting outside. Should I send them in?”
Friends?
“Who?” I ask.
“Jemimah and Rainer?”
My heart clenches. “Yes, please.”
She pats my hand and walks out, and I shift my aching body. I sit up as best I can and see there are tubes coming from my hand and one from my stomach. I flinch and cover it with the blanket, not wanting to see it. The door creaks, distracting me, and I turn to see Mimi and Rainer walking in. Mimi sees me and runs forward, gently throwing her arms around my neck. “You scared me, oh God. Mali, don’t you ever do that again.”
“It wasn’t intentional, I promise,” I croak into her hair.
“How are you feeling? Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m sore and yes, apparently so.”
Her eyes scan my face. “I was so afraid.”
I reach over and take her hand. “I’m okay, I promise.”
She turns and glances at Rainer. “He’s desperate to talk to you. I’ll get some juice, okay?”
I nod and she leans down, kissing my cheek before turning and rushing out. Rainer steps forward, and he looks tired and worried. He stops at the edge of my bed and stares down at me, his eyes pained. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice raspy.
“I’m okay,” I say, meeting his brown eyes.
“You scared me. Fuck, Emy . . .”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on it happening.”
“If I didn’t call you so many fucking times . . .”
“Rainer, don’t,” I whisper. “Please don’t. I answered the phone; you didn’t make me.”
“I kept calling, probably driving you crazy. It’s not a wonder you lost control.”
“Please,” I say, reaching over and taking his hand. “Don’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Emalie, for everything.”
I sigh and smile at him. “So am I.”
“I know you think I don’t care about you, but I do, fuck I do . . . I didn’t realize how much until tonight.”