Home > Fable of Happiness : Book Three(6)

Fable of Happiness : Book Three(6)
Author: Pepper Winters

The passion, the bond, the absolute truth between them made tears spill down my face. I’d known so many versions of Kas through his nightmares, concussion, and slowly falling in love with him. I’d known what he was capable of—both good and bad. But to see him almost kill this man with his bare hands and then hug him with unconditional love broke my already splintered heart.

“I didn’t mean to...” Kas clutched the back of Jareth’s head, pulling him away so he could stare into his eyes. “I didn’t know it was you.”

Jareth nodded. No animosity or anger in his stare. “I’m sorry for touching her.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop others from touching you.”

Jareth inhaled as the two men pressed their foreheads together, acknowledging everything between them.

The hug started off as equals, two brothers finding each other. But it ended with Kas as the patriarchal one. The father figure who’d assumed responsibility for Jareth’s well-being years ago. Who still took that responsibility seriously and hated himself for hurting him. “I need to make sure I didn’t break you.” Stepping back, Kas looked Jareth up and down. “No fractures? No nausea?”

Jareth smirked. “I’ll live. I always do.”

Kas flinched. “And the others? Do they live?”

Jareth went deathly still. “I don’t know.”

Kas tripped backward, breaking their hold. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Jareth zipped up his jacket, doing his best to ignore the obvious bruises beneath his clothes. “It means you weren’t the only one trapped for the past eleven years.” Brushing past him, Jareth tripped a little as whatever injury Kas had done to his leg either sorted itself out or he flat out ignored it. Moving toward his backpack, he hissed between his teeth as he slung it onto his shoulder. “I need to rest and inhale some painkillers. We’ll talk later.” His tone gave no option but to agree.

Striding into the darkness, heading in the direction of Fables, he didn’t wait for us to follow.

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 


I REMEMBERED.

I’d blacked out. Everything had gone white—like all the other moments when things had become too much with Gemma—but this time...I didn’t wake up with a chunk of my life missing.

I wasn’t left wondering what’d happened and what I’d done wrong; I’d known instantly.

I remembered running out of Fables after recalling how I’d raped Gemma in the library. I remembered my thoughts going dark and full of self-pity. I remembered running through the forest, barefoot like an animal, tearing through foliage as if leaves were rope trying to bind me.

I’d ripped off the splint around my healing arm. I’d done my best to outrun demons and memories, becoming fucking desperate with the need to be sane. To no longer have an endless headache. To be able to love the girl I’d fallen for. To be normal and no longer this broken beast.

And then, I’d heard her scream.

I’d run faster, searching for her in the dark.

I’d seen a man holding her, hurting her.

I’d lost myself to the violence that I’d buried every day of my existence.

And now...now I sat in the games room at Fables, sitting opposite a man I never thought I’d see again. A man who’d left me because I’d told him to. A man who was more stranger than brother.

What the fuck had happened to him?

Why did horrors flow in his eyes—different horrors to the ones we’d shared? Where had the scar on his cheek come from? Why had it taken him eleven years to return?

Gemma sat perched on the armrest of the couch next to me, uncertain and unsure. She’d been jumpy ever since we’d arrived back at Fables, watching as Jareth had stalked inside without an invitation.

Not that he’d needed one.

This was his home as much as mine. Our prison. Our coffin.

I’d shadowed him as he stalked through the foyer and into the library. He’d slammed to a stop as his eyes fell on the carpet where I’d shot Storymaker and commanded everyone to leave. His back had stiffened, his breath had turned sharp, and he’d turned to me with a sickening grin on his face.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

We both remembered what’d happened here and that all those monsters were dead. Because of me.

I remembered everything.

All the memories of my Fable sister’s screams and tears were no longer hidden behind locked doors. They’d been let loose the moment I’d attacked Jareth. Recollections of my own torture mingled with those that’d happen to Jareth, Wes, and Maliki.

They’d folded in on me as I’d blacked out. I’d hoped they’d return to the shadows.

But no such luck.

They’d been let loose and they refused to leave.

My head was fucking crowded.

I couldn’t shut them up or shove them away. They made Fables come alive again. I saw their ghosts around every corner. I heard their voices up the stairs. I witnessed the fear, the pain, and the never-ending monstrosities that were done to us.

I wanted to lock them away again.

I didn’t think I could cope with my past running amok in my head and Jareth infiltrating my present.

Even now, sitting silent and stiff in the games room, I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t let down my guard because I no longer trusted him.

He once owned a piece of my heart—just like all my family—but now...now, Gemma owned that heart. Her well-being came above his and I was torn in two.

Gemma flicked a glance at me as if sensing I thought about her.

The sky was lightning outside, signaling dawn wasn’t far away.

I was exhausted. Gem had shadows beneath her eyes and Jareth looked worse as the minutes ticked over. His bruising had darkened, his cuts still oozing blood.

I should tend to him.

I should’ve done it the moment we walked inside.

Clearing my throat, I went to stand, but my constant headache made the room swim. “Stay. What do you need?” Gem instantly came to sit by my side, her hand landing on my shoulder, her touch electrifying me, covering me in shame for how I’d treated her, run from her, made her doubt just how much she fucking meant to me.

What would she think of me if I admitted I’d been so close to ending it tonight? That I’d wanted her so fucking badly that I was willing to put myself out of my misery because I didn’t know how to be the man she deserved.

I didn’t know how to apologize.

I didn’t know how to love her without hurting her.

I would never get over how strong she was, how forgiving. I still didn’t understand how she could touch me, smile at me, care for me after I’d raped her. Those memories were far too sharp and savage. She’d fought me. She’d screamed at me. She’d stopped fighting me when I ignored her and took what I wanted anyway.

Fuck.

I flinched away from her touch.

Her eyes flared with hurt but she stood bravely and smiled. “I’ll go and get you guys some painkillers. I have no doubt your arm will be killing you—especially seeing as you’ve removed your splint.” Her eyes grazed over my arm before darting to Jareth sprawled in a button leather armchair by the fireplace. Animal hides darted the floor like islands between us. Antlers hung above the mantel, glinting sharply amongst the tarnished shields and swords decorating the walls.

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