Destroyed

14

Roan

All humans collected fond memories. It used to be a favourite pastime of mine: asking fellow recruits what their happiest recollection was. Where did their minds go while they were being beaten or ordered to murder?

Their happy thoughts ranged from cuddly toys, to a pretty girl, to their favourite food. Not once did we include our family.

That was just asking for trouble.

I broke that law by thinking of Vasily.

The three months while we shared a bedroom were the worst and best of my life. I was responsible for his food, water, and shelter. I was his protection. His brother and friend. Knowing he relied on me gave me purpose. He gave me a reason to keep going. He gave me hope.

The day they made me kill him, it ruined everything left inside me. The hope extinguished, all chance of happiness blotted out. All trace of who I’d been erased—just like they’d planned.

I’d lived almost ten years in silent persecution before the walls caved, sun shined, and pain rained anew.

A child was my cure.

The daughter of the woman I tried to kill.

It was time to face my past full of darkness and say fuck you.

It was time to start new memories.

It burned.

How it fucking burned.

Her every touch scraped flesh from my bones, searing me, helping me forget my past.

Her every look peeled away my crimes, offering neither judgement nor compassion.

Her every laugh shaved away my hopelessness, strengthening my will to fight.

But then there was the conditioning.

On top of her miraculous effect, I battled an entire lifetime of orders running fiercely in my blood.

“Kill her.”

“Annihilate her.”

“We won’t command again.”

“Do it.”

The orders were a constant stream of filth in my head.

I sweated and shook and ached with rapidly increasing urges, intensified with refusal.

Being in Clara’s presence gave me all the self-harm I ever needed. Never again would I need to lift a blade to my skin, or coax my blood to flow. As long as I had her near me, I had both pleasure and pain, hope and damnation, sickness and health.

I could never have guessed my Achilles heel would come in the form of a spritely young girl. But every time I looked at her, I felt myself changing, evolving, twisting. My body fought against the lifetime of discipline, shedding its old scales and rottenness.

The transformation gave me fucking wings, but it also crushed me. What if Hazel was right? What if I couldn’t keep my oath and hurt Clara just like I did her mother?

I hadn’t meant to snap today. I tried to stop it even as I fucked her. I just wasn’t strong enough, and that killed me to know how broken my handlers left me.

This isn’t right. Tell her to leave. Run. Never come back.

Looking down at the halo of brown hair surrounding someone so innocent, I knew I could never be a martyr and send her away. That would be a death warrant, and I was selfish—so incredibly selfish—to want both daughter and mother.

My eyes flew back to Zel, trailing after us with a fierce glare in her green gaze. Feelings I’d kept locked away shattered through my walls, swelling in my chest, recognising that whatever bond existed between us wasn’t something I could ever give up.

For the first time, I let myself acknowledge how deep my attraction for her went, how badly my body ached to join with hers in lingering lovemaking and not abusive fucking. I wanted her to be my first—my first real connection.

I want her to touch me.

The realization knocked me on my ass. I made a vow right then and there to fix myself. To stand up and stop being a pussy. I wouldn’t stop until I was cured enough for Zel to touch every inch of me. I wouldn’t rest until I was strong enough to hug her and hold her close.

I thirsted to make the dream a reality.

My cock hardened at the thought of her mouth on me again, of her fingers trailing over my skin. I wanted to give her everything that I was—including my scars and tattoos. I wanted her to understand me, so she didn’t have to fear me anymore.

Opening the door, Clara dashed forward. “Wow!” Her bright cherub voice rung around the foyer.

My heart lurched in a mixture of torture and adoration. One thing was for sure: Clara would be my annihilation. She already held the fuse to destroy me completely.

And I didn’t care if she did. I would rather be destroyed by her than live the rest of my life struggling. Clara was my wakeup call. I couldn’t continue living as I had—it wasn’t a life. I wanted more. I wanted her. I wanted Zel.

I was never letting her go.

She was mine.

Her mother was mine.

Mine. Mine. Fucking mine.

Clara danced through my house, her tiny fingers stroking every statue I’d ever made. Just like her mother—she had to touch.

She wrapped stick thin arms around toddler sized bears; she shoved tiny fists into howling wolves’ mouths. She patted owls on their heads, and kissed the tops of ponies’ withers.

Her eyes swam with wonderment, and I wanted to give her everything.

I didn’t care that she ruled me. I didn’t care how crazy and unstable I came across being so obsessed by a child I had just met. No one would be able to understand the sheer freedom I felt after twenty-two years of living in the dark.

Clara was a walking sun, and I would trail after her through unlimited sunrises and sunsets.

My heart erupted into pieces, shattering with hope. Before I could stop myself, I murmured, “They’re all yours. Every last one.”

Zel froze beside me. “What?” Her eyes locked on mine. Amazement flickered, followed by annoyance, confusion. “You can’t. We have nowhere to store them.” She dropped her gaze, her shoulders rising and falling as her breathing accelerated. I didn’t blame her for being freaked out—for being on high alert, watching my every move. She had no reason to trust me and no idea what I’d been through to understand I would put a gun in my mouth and swallow a bullet before I ever hurt Clara.

I won’t obey. Vasily was the last child I would ever hurt.

Zel straightened her back, keeping her face closed off. “That’s very generous of you, but we can’t take them.”

Clara skidded to a halt in front of me, barely stopping before crashing into my legs. “I love them. Love. Love. Love.”

My face and ears still burned from when she hugged my head. When her arms captured my face outside, my gut heaved and brain exploded. I very nearly vomited on the driveway fighting the conditioning. Images bombarded me of death and dismemberment. I’d been petrified to open my eyes just in case I found her torn to fucking pieces on the ground.

But I’d managed to push her away.

I’d held steadfast.

I’d survived, and she’d lived.

I gritted my teeth knowing I’d have to guard myself every time she came near. I’d never been around someone who touched so effortlessly.

“Thank Mr. Obsidian for the offer, Clara, but you know we don’t have room.” Zel placed a hand on Clara’s head, running her fingers through her tangled brown hair.

Clara pouted, looking at me then Zel. “But…I love them. I want them all in my room.” Her beautiful brown eyes skipped between us, bright with frustration. “They’re all alive inside. They need a home. They need someone to love them and stroke them and feed them—” A loud whooping cough interrupted her, causing her to slap a hand over her mouth and whirl to face Zel.

Zel’s body went rigid. She ducked to grab Clara’s shoulders. The terror swimming in Zel’s eyes broke my fucking heart. It was just a cough…wasn’t it?

“Breathe. That’s it. Do you need—”

The coughing stopped as suddenly as it began, and Clara shook her head. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stomped her little foot. “I hate coughing. It hurts.”

Zel gathered her close, hugging her. “I know. We’ll find a way to make it stop. Soon.”

I loved watching the two of them together—such a natural love. A family bond I’d lost forever. A small bolt of jealousy filled me. My body ached to take Clara’s place—to enjoy the comfort and safety of someone’s embrace.

“Do you suffer from hay fever, Clara?” I asked, drawing Zel’s attention to me. Her eyes were shut down and unreadable, protecting her damn secrets.

The brightness in Clara had faded a little, but slowly the flame came back. She shook her head. “I don’t know what that is? Is it a sickness that horses catch from hay?”

Zel let out a huge sigh, then chuckled. “No, but it makes more sense. Hay fever is when you’re allergic to pollens and other irritants in the air.”

I expected Clara to ask a hundred questions, but her eyes turned solemn and she nodded. “Okay.”

Turning to me, she announced, “I’m allergic to air.”

Zel made a small choking sound, and I couldn’t explain why my stomach decided to wrestle with my heart in such a painful tango. “You’re allergic to air?”

She moved forward to a statue of a badger, her breathing slightly wheezy. “I must be because I cough a lot and I only breathe in air and not pol—pollams.”

Zel’s arms wrapped tight around herself, her eyes locking on her daughter.

Something wasn’t right.

My hunter instincts tried to uncover her secrets, but she suddenly unlatched her arms and clapped her hands. “Would you give Clara one of your statues?” She raised her voice to where Clara had drifted to. “How about you pick one? We have room for an extra houseguest.”

Clara perked up and beamed. “Okay.” Spinning on the spot, her smile fell. “But there’s so many. How do I choose?”

I couldn’t stand the pinpricks of pain for making her choose. I wouldn’t do it—not when I wanted her to keep every damn thing in my house. They meant nothing to me. If I could share them and earn a smile or two in return—that made me richer than my entire family’s fortune.

Taking a step closer to Zel, I murmured, “They’re all hers. Every single one.”

Zel stiffened and I wanted nothing more than to touch her—to offer some level of comfort. Something weighed her down and I wanted to give support—even if she didn’t confide in me.

Touching her cheek, I waited for the onslaught of conditioning. I was prepared for the pain and orders, but instead of being excruciating, it only pulsed and throbbed.

It’s bearable.

My eyes widened. Was that the key? To push myself to the end of my endurance—constantly pressing through the pain until my brain either adapted or snapped?

“Why are you doing this?” Zel whispered, so Clara wouldn’t hear. “Why do you care? You hurt me again, Fox. You have to understand how difficult this is for me. I never wanted you to meet her.”

The flash of rage and agony caught me by surprise. “You think I don’t care? That I’m just a monster who’s only goal is to hurt you?” I hated that her assessment of me was so low. What the fuck?

“No. I know you’re not. I know you’re trying your hardest, but it isn’t good enough. You can’t expect me to put my child in danger just because you suddenly want a kid in your life.”

Pressing forward, I hissed, “I don’t want a kid in my life. I’ve spent my entire life avoiding them. I didn’t ask you to bring her here. I can’t change what happened just as much as you. No one could’ve predicted the way I’d react, so why don’t you stop fighting it and fucking trust me.” My eyes flew to Clara who was oblivious to our discussion, stroking a racoon statue.

Zel’s nostrils flared, and we glared for a tense moment. She was the one to finally back down. Her eyes dropped. “I’m not comfortable with this, Fox. I know it was my fault you snapped today, but it wasn’t my fault before that, or when you stole me at knifepoint. Don’t think things are good between us, because they aren’t.”

Stalking away, she stole my chance at rebuttal.

I knew without a doubt if I let her walk out the door today, I’d never see her or Clara again.

That just isn’t an option.

I needed another bribe—another contract to keep Zel bound to me—to give myself time to fix what I ruined between us and most importantly fix myself.

Swallowing my temper, I said loudly, “You don’t have to pick, Clara. They’re all yours. And you don’t have to worry about storage either because you can keep them here. You and your mother are more than welcome to stay with me for as long as you want. In fact, I’d love you to move in tonight.”

Clara squealed and charged toward me.

Fear hot and fierce shot through my body as her little arms wrapped around my legs and squeezed. Holy fuck. Don’t lose it. Don’t. The world swam. Infernos blazed. Blood scraped my veins with tiny daggers.

“Kill her.”

“Bleed her.”

“Do it, Operative Fox.”

Zel grabbed Clara and tore her off me, backing away quickly. “Don’t touch him, Clara. Ever.”

Even though my entire body felt as if I’d been whipped and mutilated after the heavy crush of orders, I was lighter that I’d ever been. I was positively buoyant because I’d held on.

A child had hugged me, and I hadn’t broken. She was still alive, and I’d proven to myself I could find freedom.

It was the best fucking feeling in the world.

Clara tried to free herself from Zel’s grip. Her little face shone. “You mean it? I can sleep over? And you’ll make me a sheep?”

Before I could answer, she threw herself at Zel, almost tackling her to the ground. “Can we, mummy? Please. Please. With a cherry on top?”

Zel smiled, brushing some unruly flyaway strands from Clara’s forehead. “How about you let the adults talk? I think I spy a polar bear down the corridor. Just don’t go too far.”

“Oh really? I want to pet it.” Clara took off in a whirl of purple, sprinting out of hearing distance.

Zel slowly stood upright, and I fought the urge to take a step back. Her eyes blazed with green fire. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She was so fucking strong. So fierce in protecting her offspring. My heart swelled to ten times its normal size, suffocating in my chest. It’d only been a couple of weeks, but I would always be indebted to this woman for bringing me back to life. And because I owed her my life, I could never let her leave.

“I’m honouring our agreement.”

“What fucking agreement? I don’t remember signing away mine and my daughter’s life to come live in your freaky-ass home. You can’t say things like that in front of a child. Now she’ll be broken-hearted and disappointed and she’ll hate me when I take her home tonight.” She stormed forward. “Because that’s what will happen, Fox. We. Aren’t. Staying.”

I balled my hands. “I’m not asking you to marry me for fuck’s sake or even stay forever. If you never want me to come near you again, I won’t.

“All I want is the right to take care of you. Give me a purpose. Let me provide for you, and be there for you. That’s all I’m asking.”

Zel’s bottom lip wobbled, but her face darkened from angry to livid. “You think I can’t take care of her on my own? You think you’re strong enough to swoop in and fix everything?” She dragged hands through her hair, barely holding onto the tears shimmering in her eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t want you near her’ didn’t you understand?”

I advanced, forcing her to take a step back. “I understand perfectly. You’re a fucking hypocrite. One minute you’re here for me. Healing me. Giving me everything you have even when all I do is take, and the next you want to withhold everything from me and paint me as the devil. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you forgive me. You’re a fucking saint to even speak to me after the things I’ve done. But I warned you at the beginning that I sense things people try to hide.”

Grabbing her elbow, I held her tight. “Let me tell you what I’ve come to know. You’re drowning in sorrow. You look at that little girl as if she’s the most precious diamond in the world, and you’re terrified of losing her. And that cough? You reacted as if she could die instead of it being a simple affliction. I think there’s something big you aren’t telling me and I want to know.”

“Let go of me, you bastard. You think you’re so clever, but you don’t know anything. You don’t know what it’s like to be a single parent. To be solely a mother and no longer a person who can chase their hopes and dreams. You didn’t have your life turned upside down by an accident only to have that accident be the best fucking thing to ever happen to you.”

“Didn’t I? Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? I’ve been a fucking prisoner since I was six years old. You’re the only person I’ve been close to in my entire life. Is it so wrong of me to ask for more? To request that you stay with me and give meaning to my fucking sorry excuse for a life?”

I shoved her away. My heart bolted around my chest, and I needed a fight. I needed to throw my fist into something flesh and bone and let out all this rage.

Fuck!

Zel stood glaring, panting hard. Her eyes flew up the corridor where Clara had disappeared. I didn’t worry she wasn’t visible. There was nothing but statues to entertain and no way out unless she came back this way.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“No. You’re impossible. Shit, I’ll give you the remaining one hundred thousand now if it’ll help sway you. Hell, I’ll triple it if you stay. I’ll give you anything you want—just agree to stay for a few days at least.”

Zel shifted, eyes darting around the space, searching for answers. “A few days?”

I wanted to sigh in relief. I’d won. This match.

“That’s all I’m asking.” It wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that.

Zel slumped, all the fight fizzled from her limbs. “What are you trying to do, Fox?”

I ignored the soft defeat in her voice and murmured, “I’m not trying to do anything. I just want the opportunity to share your daughter—if only for a brief while.”

A crush of vulnerability filled me, and I dropped my head. I was tired. So tired. “Please…I need her in my life. I need you.” Swallowing hard, I captured her hand and relaxed a little when the conditioning stayed blessedly absent. “Please, Hazel. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll pay you any sum you desire. Just stay. Give me another chance.”

Her eyes bloomed with fresh anger. “You think I’m that shallow? That you can throw money at me and allow you to buy me and Clara?” She snorted. “We don’t come with a fucking price tag, you idiot. You could offer me a million, and I wouldn’t stay if I thought you’d hurt her.”

“I swear on my life I will not raise a finger to hurt her. You have my absolute word.”

She shook her head. “It’s not good enough. You can’t promise that.” Her eyes met mine, and I wanted to dig out my heart and slap it into her hands. Then she’d know how much I needed her and Clara and the tantalising hope she offered.

She ran hands through her long hair, her perfect breasts rising and falling with rage. “What you did to me, Fox…that…that’s not natural. You shouldn’t have such strong triggers that make you a danger to anyone who comes into contact with you. What if you lash out again? What if I’m not around to stop you from strangling her or tearing her into chunks? You don’t trust yourself. I don’t trust you, and I sure as hell don’t trust you around the reason for my very existence. Plus we have a life, appointments to go to, school to attend. It’s not a simple matter of saying stay for a few days.”

Her anger fed mine, and I welcomed the warmth. I growled, “It’s obvious you don’t trust me in the slightest. You hid her from me. You’ve kept every part of your life a secret from me.” My temper helped soothe my raging need for pain just a little. “You know a lot more about me than I do about you. Everything about you is a mystery, and it fucking hurts to think I don’t deserve to hear a little about your past or who you truly are.”

Looking to where Clara had run to, I lowered my voice and took a step closer to Zel. “You said you signed the contract because you wanted me. Because you felt what I did—that you were drawn to me. And yet, I’ve embraced that bond and relished in finally deserving your attention, but no matter what I do, you look at me as if I’m a pet project. You exploded my mind by sucking my cock. You pushed me until I lost control. And then you condemn me when I don’t respond to your crazy form of therapy.

“I need time. I know I need help, but you don’t care about me…not the way I care about you.” I snapped my lips together, hating my slip—I’d shown my weakness.

Her mouth fell open. “You think I don’t care about you?” Her eyes flashed with emerald fire; pressing closer, she drove me backward. “You’re stupid as well as screwed up. Answer me this. Why the hell do I keep coming back? Why the hell can’t I hate you for hurting me, not once, not twice, but three times? Why can’t I just walk away and throw your damn money in your face?”

Her eyes glittered with pent-up tears. “I’ll tell you why, you moron. It’s because whatever you feel, I feel. It’s there—pulling us together. You make my heart race every time you look so broken. You make me feel stronger and deeper than I’ve ever felt for anyone. So don’t tell me I don’t care!”

Dashing hair out of her eyes, she snarled, “Whatever exists between us is determined to destroy me. How am I expected to ignore something so strong and undeniable? It drives me fucking insane, just like you and your issues drive me insane. All I wanted was a way to save—”

She cut herself off before whisper-yelling, “I want you so damn much my skin screams for your touch and my fingers ache to reciprocate, but I want to know you. I push you to break you, hoping you’ll find a way back to normality. But it doesn’t work, and you end up hurting me. After everything I’ve done, you have the nerve to tell me I don’t care about you?”

She panted hard, cheeks flushed with colour.

I’d never been so alive. So fucking turned on. Her passion, her confession squeezed my heart until I couldn’t stay still.

Every angry word stroked my cock, making me harder than I’d ever been in my life. My entire body screamed for hers. I needed to claim her. Mark her. Solidify whatever existed between us.

I didn’t care that Clara was down the hall absorbed in my bronze creations. I didn’t care that the stress of the day had stolen the edges of my vision or that my body felt like an overstretched rubber band.

I didn’t fucking care.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I launched myself at her, shoving her against the opposite wall. My heart exploded as my mouth crashed hard on hers.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t planned. It was angry and violent, and everything that I needed.

My hands captured her cheeks, holding her firmly in place. My lips moved against hers, hungry and demanding.

She gasped in shock, then moaned in anger, trying to bite me as I pierced the seam of her lips and plunged a hungry tongue deep into her mouth.

I fucking kissed her like I wanted to so many times before. I kissed her with everything that I was and hoped to be.

Her body went taut, vibrating against mine. My brain sparked and overloaded with too much sensation, but for once I was able to keep it together. I flattened her against the wall, squashing her breasts against me, loving the rapid thud thud of her heart against my ribs.

“Fucking kiss me,” I growled against her mouth. I wanted to tear her clothes off and take her against the wall. I wanted to sink deep inside her hot dark warmth and prove to her I could give her what she wanted.

It took a never-ending moment, but suddenly the tension in Zel’s body switched to writhing passion. Her tongue flashed out to battle with mine.

We didn’t kiss. We fought. We poured everything we couldn’t say into one timeless action.

I groaned, threading my fingers through her hair, capturing the back of her scalp. I pulled her harder against me.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to break me. I’m yours, Hazel. Fuck.”

She swallowed my invitation, kissing me harder, bruising my lips with hers. Our teeth clashed and my skin erupted, needing her fingers on me.

But her arms stayed locked by her sides.

She moaned as I left the realm of sanity and poured every apology, every regret, I had into her mouth and down her throat and into her fucking heart. I wanted her to know that she owned me. I needed her to know she’d helped me—more than she knew. More than anyone.

I owed her everything; I couldn’t let her leave. It was the one thing I wouldn’t do. I would gladly go to hell for kidnapping and holding her prisoner, but she’d given me a cure not in herself, but in her perfect, amazing, life-altering daughter.

Clapping entered my thoughts, followed by a feminine giggle. I crashed to earth and swore under my breath.

Shit. Hardly appropriate for child’s eyes.

I broke away, sucking in huge gusts of air, discreetly rearranging my trousers. Clara stood there looking like she’d watched a prince claim his fucking queen. My heart lurched thinking how close to the truth that was. My family tree was royal. My blood supposedly blue.

That made Obsidian my kingdom and Zel my subject to do as I pleased. And what I pleased was to take her behind closed doors and hand myself over to whatever medicine and therapy she had in mind.

“Aww, I knew you liked my mother. She gives the best kisses, but not like that. Those were icky.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless. You don’t know how to hug or kiss.”

Zel swallowed a surprised cough, quickly straightening her shirt. She unobtrusively wiped her red swollen lips, removing traces of my kiss. “You’re right, Clara. He has a lot to learn.” She shot me a glance, and I couldn’t fight the smile hijacking my lips.

“I saw the polar bear. It was awesome. But I want a sheep.” Clara radiated happiness and I risked everything by placing a tentative hand on her bony shoulder.

Calming my rapid heartbeat, I smiled. “I’ll get started on it tonight. Your mother and I came to a deal. You’ll stay for a few nights and then go home. Is that okay?”

Her smile fell a little. “I guess.” Looking at her mother, she added, “But if I’m good maybe I can stay longer?”

Zel made a humph noise, not moving from her place squished against the wall. Clara moved toward her mother, and leaned her head against her waist. Zel wrapped an around Clara’s head, holding her close. She moved slowly almost as if her body was too heavy, too sensitive to bear. I could relate completely. Every part of me felt as if I had a billion needles dancing on my flesh—both pleasure and pain, intoxicating and distracting.

Clara suddenly grew shy and whispered to Zel, “I’m hungry. Can I have chicken nuggets? I went to the hospital today, and you normally let me have them for being brave.”

Hospital? What the fuck?

My gaze bored a hole into Zel, but she refused to make eye contact. Ducking to Clara’s level, she pressed her lips against her ear and said something I couldn’t hear.

My stomach rolled, searching for any sign of why such a vital little girl would’ve been at the hospital.

Zel finally stood and met my livid gaze. “She had her annual inoculations, that’s all. But she’s right, I do let her have chicken nuggets when she’s been. Do you think we can rustle some up for her?”

I had no idea what was stocked in the kitchen, but I would buy a hundred damn nuggets if that’s what Clara wanted.

Before I turned chef for the first time in my life, I had to know. I’d announced it to Clara, but Zel hadn’t agreed yet. “You’re staying?”

Zel pursed her lips. “Will you keep your distance?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. One night.”

I wanted to argue for more, but I had twenty-four hours to plead and cajole. Right now, I had to do the most domestic thing of my life, and I couldn’t fucking wait.

I’d probably burn them. We’d most likely end up ordering in, but I couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather do.

Smiling at Clara, I said, “Let’s go see what I have in the fridge. I’m sure they’ll be something delicious in there.”

Clara beamed and bounced away from Zel. “Oh, goodie. And then I want a story.”

No amount of sunlight could make me feel as happy as I did in that moment. Life seemed suddenly bearable—more than bearable: joyous.

I motioned for Zel to walk beside me, wishing for the day when I could hold her hand and not battle the urge to destroy her.

Zel nodded and fell into step with me. “I don’t think Fox’s stories are quite suitable for your ears, Clara. How about we head to the library and pick up a few?”

Clara turned around, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t want stories from the library. I want real stories.” She danced on the spot, twisting her sweater. “Oh, and mummy. His name isn’t Fox. It’s Roan.”

That was two days ago.

Forty-eight hours that were heaven and hell—perpetual amounts of stress and agony. My nerves were shot, flashbacks of Vasily crept up on me in the worst moments, and I found myself exhausted when I crawled into bed at daybreak.

But I wouldn’t change a thing.

Self-harm came in the form of battling my conditioning every time Clara came near, and I grew to understand my triggers better; understand what made me snap and revert to Ghost, and what allowed me to stay sane.

On the first night, after burning a tray of chicken nuggets, I finally got the hang of how to use the oven and had the best meal of my life. Sitting around a kitchen table I’d never sat at, using skills I’d never had to learn, I indulged in normalcy.

Staring at Zel and Clara while eating such a simple meal, I cursed my handlers once again for stealing my life. For giving me a world shut off from love, laughter, and gentleness. Not once had we ever been allowed to form attachments. Our cells were apart, our meals eaten separately. Our only purpose to rest like a stowed weapon until a new contract came through. A new enemy to kill or vendetta to fulfill on behalf of obscenely wealthy men and women.

It’d been worse than a prison sentence, and I felt as if the bars were finally disappearing—I’d found a way to weld myself free, and I would never allow anyone to steal so much from me again.

Zel kept her distance. That first night, I gave her the room next to mine—fully aware she would need her own space with Clara. I didn’t push for another kiss, or time alone to talk. I was content to just have them in my home. I may be obsessed with Clara, but I knew I had to tread lightly. To not let on just how fucked-up I was, and how much I needed her.

Every second in Clara’s presence lifted the black cloud from around my heart, and I found my lips twitching and stomach clenching in a brand new emotion of happiness. It filled me with sunshine and for the first time since they stole me, I didn’t fear the darkness inside my soul. I had something other than death surrounding me. I had life.

Clara didn’t go to school the next day. Instead, Zel allowed her to explore my home while I slept till midday. I found them in the greenhouse when I woke and trailed after mother and daughter, drinking in their magic.

I’d wanted Zel the moment I’d set eyes on her in Obsidian, but it was nothing, nothing, compared to the ever burning passion I now smouldered with. Every time she laughed at a quip from Clara, or tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, I inched closer to falling.

I didn’t know if she’d accept me, or if she’d leave in a few days and that would be the end of it, but she owned me more than anyone. More than my handlers, more than my own self-worth, I belonged completely and utterly to her.

I did the right thing—the only correct thing in my life by keeping my hands off her. I didn’t know how I managed. My cock had a mind of its own, and my eyes weren’t content unless she was centrefold, but I refused to hurt her again. I meant what I said when I agreed to never going near her if that was what she wished.

I ignored my thoughts of taking her and hoarded the sweet, unsullied companionship Zel and Clara gave me.

The next time I took her—if there was a next time—I wanted to give her everything. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to learn the difference. I wanted her to know I belonged to her.

Every now and again, Clara would cough and tears would fill her little eyes. Zel would administer an asthma inhaler and the coughs would dissipate. Whenever I asked why Clara was coughing, Zel would snap and tell me it was only asthma—nothing to worry myself about.

But I did worry. A lot. Something wasn’t right. Her lies stank, drenched in grief, and the sharp tingle of fear never left my skin.

Seeing the love Zel had for her daughter almost brought me to my fucking knees. I’d give anything to have her look at me that way.

Her sorrow tainted everything she did, though. She thought I didn’t notice; she thought Clara didn’t notice. But we did. Often Clara would catch my eye over Zel’s shoulder mid-hug, her little eyebrow raised in question.

Zel carried sadness inside, heavy and aching, and she never uttered a word about it.

When Zel and Clara went to bed, I oversaw Obsidian. Once the last fighter left at five a.m., I headed to my basement and worked on Clara’s request.

The second night was spent out on the lawn under the summer sun. Complete with Nutella sandwiches and chocolate dipped marshmallows. Zel had rolled her eyes at how easily swayed I was by the whims of an eight-year-old. She didn’t know taking orders was in my DNA. She also didn’t know I’d fought my handlers all my life and enjoyed finally obeying such simple, innocent requests from someone so tiny.

I would kill for her without question. I would protect her with my life.

When dinner was over and Zel announced it was Clara’s bedtime, she’d pouted and moaned and only settled once I’d dragged three bronze statues into her bedroom—slowly building a menagerie of metal wildlife.

I indulged her. I adored her.

I’d never been so consumed by one person. Every time I watched her liveliness, my heart would break for Vasily and all the children like me who’d been killed because we weren’t cold-hearted enough for the warped game of our handlers.

Clara looked nothing like him—where she was dark and pearly skin, Vasily had been dusky skinned and fair. Vasily’s eyes had been like mine—an artic white-blue so clear I had a vague memory of my mother calling them icebergs.

It didn’t matter Clara looked nothing like him. My brain couldn’t stop poking at wounds, invoking pain I thought I’d put behind me.

But the pain didn’t compare to the newness and warmth I’d found. Where Clara was my sun—healing and casting my shadows away—Zel was my fucking cosmos.

She was everything I wanted. Everything I needed. Everything I never thought I’d deserve.

Obsidian used to be my obsession, but now I no longer cared about the fighters pummelling each other in my house, or the steady influx of money from eager members. I wanted to rest and step back from violence.

I was done with it.

I just hoped it was done with me.

I woke at my usual midday and worked out for an hour before entering my office. The calendar on my desk blotter told me it was Saturday.

A big night at Obsidian and the weekend. No school for Clara. My heart picked up its beat at the thought of asking Zel to stay another night.

She’d agreed previously not because she wanted to, but because Clara had bounced around like a little lunatic and sealed the deal without her permission.

Ask her in front of Clara again.

I knew it was underhanded to use the excitement of an eight-year-old to keep Zel here, but I didn’t mind playing dirty if it meant she never fucking left. My days were brighter and darker, easier and harder, when she was around, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.

“Can we go to the beach? I want to go to the beach.” Clara’s high voice preceded her as she bolted into my office with Zel trailing close behind. I hadn’t seen them since last night, and my fucking heart leapt out of my chest and splattered at their feet.

Zel met my eyes, a soft look in her green gaze. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I murmured. I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. Dressed in a feminine white skirt and pink singlet, she looked too young to be a mother and far too intoxicating for my already strained self-control.

Clara pressed her hands on the front of my desk, jumping up and down. “Morning! We went for a walk. The sun’s out, and it’s hot already. I want to go for a swim.”

I leaned back in my chair, drinking them in. “I can see you had a good walk.” I smirked. Her glossy brown hair held foliage and pieces of freshly mowed grass.

Clara darted around my desk to stand beside me. My skin pricked; muscles coiled with anticipation—sensing her will to touch me, preparing itself to battle the imminent urge to kill.

“Yep. Like my daisies?” She shook her hair, showing a long daisy chain wrapped in the strands.

“They’re very pretty.” I smiled, never relaxing.

Clara grinned. “You’re coming to the beach. I’ve already got my bathing suit on. You need to bring yours, so you can swim.”

My throat slammed closed. The idea of going to the beach filled me with horror. How could I explain the thought of being half-naked gave me the cold sweats? How could I explain the tattoo on my back or the scars on my chest?

I couldn’t.

“Scars are a mark of pride, Operative Fox. They show how successful you are. Many requests for killers come in based on how many injuries you’ve endured and overcome.”

That’s all we were. Evaluated on how efficiently we exterminated another life—how perfectly we obeyed orders.

“Please, say you’ll come.” Clara’s voice shattered the flash back. She moved closer, hands out-stretched, eyes full of determination.

All my strength had been replaced with icy fear. Shoving my chair back, I kept my distance. I couldn’t do it.

Zel made a noise in the back of her throat, rushing forward. “Clara, don’t touch Fox right now. He’s not feeling well.” Her eyes met mine, and I stopped breathing.

Her green gaze glowed, lips parted, face flushed. She stared so intensely at me I swore she touched me, whispering across my black covered body. All her passion and anxiety for Clara’s well-being battled with the complex emotions she felt for me. It was as if she whipped me with everything she struggled with: uncertainty, anger, grief, lust, friendship, betrayal. My heart went from sluggish to racing, pumping my blood with need.

I want you. So fucking much. I shot the message as hard as I could, hoping she’d decipher my soundless sentence.

She sucked in a breath, drawing my eyes to her breasts encased in her pink tank top. Her nipples hardened beneath the fabric, and it took all my willpower to stay sitting and not launch myself across the desk and grab her.

Clara ceased to exist as I stared at Zel. Her eyes went heavy with lust.

She made me fucking crazy.

I could no longer operate my body, and all concentration flew out of the window. All thoughts turned to binding her with silver jewellery and fucking her. I couldn’t get enough of her. I missed her.

Then another thought hit me.

Maybe I’ve done it the wrong way. Maybe the only way to succeed at never hurting her would be to trap myself in bondage. Am I always destined to be an animal only fit for shackles?

Life decided to answer my dumbass question in the form of tiny, breakable hand landing softly on my scarred cheek. Clara chose that exact moment—the moment I wasn’t concentrating—to touch me in the worst possible spot.

Life ceased to exist.

Death roared in my brain.

Hands clenched. Body shifted. Zel screamed.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

Conditioning tsunamied through me, wreaking havoc on my self-control, reminding me I’d been forged as a weapon, not a human to interact with something as killable as a child.

I blinked, bringing a terrified Clara into focus and a tear-stained ferocious Zel. “No!” she screamed.

My hands clutched Clara’s shoulders, digging into her, and it took every single reserve left inside to shove her away. The second she tumbled to the floor, Zel scooped her up and darted backward.

I fell off my chair and clutched my skull, trying to crush the overpowering orders.

Kill. Sever. Bleed. Devour.

I looked up, searching for the letter opener I kept on the desk. I needed a weapon to put myself down—before I did something I would never be able to live with.

“Clara, no!” Zel cried, sounding muffled in the crash of orders in my head. “Stay away.”

Amazingly, Clara brought on the conditioning, and she was the one who ended it. Her loud, little voice yelled, “Stop it!”

And…it did.

Just like that. Instant silence, leaving me shaking and eerily empty.

I snapped my head upright, breathing hard. I climbed to my feet, creaking in joints that had no right to move after a lifetime of torture. “Are you okay?” My voice was gruff, strained. Gulping in air, I ran hands through my shaggy hair.

The spell of lust between Zel and me was gone, replaced with appalled horror in her gaze. My heart deflated. Why can’t I be fucking normal?!

I wanted to tear my office apart and fight. I ruined it. Proved to Zel Clara wasn’t safe around me. Fuck!

“Hazel, you know I—” What could I say? I’d made more progress in the last two days than ever before, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be fucking enough to deserve them.

Clara squirmed in her mother’s hold. Zel seemed to be in livid shock, her face frozen in stone.

Freeing herself, Clara came forward. Not close enough to touch, but close enough for me to witness the fierceness in her dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean to touch you.” Her head hung, sending a curtain of shiny hair around her face. “Don’t yell at me, okay?”

My heart lurched. I felt like fucking crying. None of this was fair. Not to Clara, or Zel, or even me. I was and always would be a machine who should remember his place and stay in the dark.

Clara was so innocent. So pure. Everything that I wasn’t.

“I won’t yell at you, little one. It wasn’t your fault.” Sighing heavily, I stayed slouched on the floor, keeping a careful eye on her. “I think you and your mother should go.”

Zel sucked in a harsh breath, life animating her body once again. I searched her gaze and fucking died when she nodded once. “Yes, Clara. I think Mr. Fox needs to have some time on his own. Let’s go to the beach with Auntie Clue and Ben.”

“But I don’t want to go to the beach with them. And stop calling him Fox!” Clara’s cheeks grew pink. “It was my fault. Don’t kick us out, please. You haven’t told me any stories. You haven’t shown me a sheep. I don’t want to go.”

I couldn’t stand seeing her bottom lip wobble.

Right there. Right then. My life split, heading into a crossroads.

I was obsessed with finding redemption. Destroyed by love. Possessed by hope. Consumed by a past I couldn’t shake. My eyes locked with Zel’s. It was time. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t come with baggage, or issues that I might never be free of, but before Zel walked away from me forever, I wanted her to know the truth.

I wanted to know her. I wanted to earn her trust. I wanted a connection. I didn’t want to be feared or hated. I didn’t want to be an inconvenience or burden.

It was time to tell her everything, so she could decide for herself.

It was the only way forward. And it would mean I’d lose both of them because she would never allow her daughter near me again.

“I think it’s time I told you a story, Clara.” My voice sounded heavy and bleak. I’ll tell you things that’ll scar your mind and grant you nightmares for life.

Zel sniffed, straightening her back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She moved forward, wrapping her arms around Clara’s shoulders. Her body trembled with tightly reined emotion; her limbs brittle, eyes tinged with grief. “Please, Fox. You keep forgetting she’s a child. You can’t tell her what I think you want to. You can’t unburden yourself onto such an innocent mind. I won’t let you.”

“I’ll filter. I’ll turn it into a fairy-tale. I promise I won’t share too much, just…please…give me the opportunity to tell someone. Before you leave.”

She bit her lip, deliberations filling her eyes.

I looked at my hands. Holding them up, I said, “I can tell you the story behind every scar, every nick, and every mark on my body. I’ll answer any question you want, and then you can cast judgement.” My fingers weren’t appendages—they were ruthless weapons and held a lifetime of grief. “I’ll save the details for you, but give me the chance to tell your daughter one story.”

Looking at Clara, I added, “I’ll tell you about a boy who lost his life only to have a little girl give it back to him.”

Clara smiled heartbreakingly sweet, her dark eyes so wide and forgiving. Her fierceness made me yearn for another child…a boy, who’d been just as tough and perfect.

“I’d like that. But I want more than one.”

Zel gave in. Her shoulders slumped. “One story and then we’re going home.”

I nodded. I could live with that. I couldn’t expect anything more.

Clara smiled, happiness glowing on her face. “Tell me now.”