United (The Guardians Book 2) (21 page)

“You know I won't tell you that, Gable. It isn't your weight to carry. I would never hold you down that way.”

Her head shook as she tried to stifle a sob. “Sacha. . .”

“Please don't cry, it breaks my heart. You never used to cry before.”

“That's because I had you.”

He pressed his lips together then, as if he was holding all his emotions inside. Together, they sat up straight, their faces only inches apart. An unnamed forced pulled them close, pulled them in, but neither wanted to fight it.

“You have no idea how desperate I am to touch you,” he told her hoarsely, ghosting a large hand over her cheek, not quite close enough to make contact. “I ache to touch you.”

His breath was warm on her lips. She could feel it.
Feel
it. They lifted their hands, mirroring each other, their palms almost pressing. If she could touch him just once. . .

Gable bolted upright in the tent just before her hand touched Sacha's, the tears she'd cried for him still wet on her cheeks. It was dark outside, still night time – she couldn't have been dreaming for long.

“What's up?” came Zay's sleepy voice behind her. She'd forgotten he was even there. He sat up next to her, blinking in confusion when he got a look at her tear stained face. “Did something happen?”

“I saw him again, I saw Sacha,” she spilled out. “I don't know how because Cadby wasn't even linking us this time but I saw him, I swear I did. It was really him. It wasn't a dream.”

“Hey, it's okay. Shh.” Probably going against every one of his instincts, Zay slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her head down to his neck. “Cry if you want to. It's just me.”

“He's so different,” she uttered, gripping a hold of his black vest with a clenched fist. “So broken.”

Like earlier, he didn't try to tell her she was wrong, didn't try to make excuses or deny her fears. All he did was comfort her, stroking her hair and making her feel just the tiniest bit safer. And for the first time in a really, really long time, Gable forgot that she was supposed to be tough. She forgot that she was supposed to be bad, that she was supposed to be strong, cold, impenetrable. She was just a girl. A scared, lonely, heartbroken girl.

She fell asleep wrapped up in Zay that night, his arm her pillow and his body warming her all over.

Fortune groaned groggily as somebody shook him awake, interrupting the rather nice dream he'd been having about a dancer he'd had a fling with back when he'd visited Italy. For a moment he worried the guards were coming to take him away for testing again, but they never came during the night. Evil scientists had to sleep too, he guessed. Blinking, he waved a hand to swat his pest away, but the shaking continued.

“Fortune,” Sacha hissed.

Fortune rubbed at his bleary eyes at sat up. Sacha had never done this before, never woken him in the middle of the night. That alone made him pay attention.

The lights were long out and with no windows to let the moon in he could barely make out Sacha's form. He was just a shadowy shape crouched next to him in the darkness. If not for the little lamp at the end of the hallway for the guards, Fortune would be totally and completely blind.

They were surrounded by the sound of snoring, some soft and gentle and some grating. As always, Fortune could hear the low, pitiful sobs of somebody crying themselves to sleep. That was nothing new – there was always somebody crying themselves to sleep. Down in the cells, learning to sleep through various noises was a must.

“What's wrong?” Fortune asked, his voice low so as not to wake the others. If he woke Gelasius up he'd never hear the end of it, and Xahlia would bitch for days. “Sacha, are you okay?”

He felt rather than saw Sacha turn and sit down on the concrete floor, his back against Fortune's cot. Fortune pushed off the thin, scratchy excuse for a blanket and joined him down there.

“I dreamed of her again.” Sacha sounded miserable.

“Who? Gable?”

“She said she was coming to get me.” He gave a self deprecating laugh. “I tried to touch her and I woke up. Even my dreams won't give me a break.”

“You okay?”

“Not really.” He heaved a sigh. “I mean, there's a leech here this time, so I know it wasn't real. It just
felt
real. So damn real.”
 

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. At least I get to see her again, even if she's only in my imagination.”

Fortune wasn't sure that was an entirely healthy attitude, but he was hardly one to talk. Some of the other inmates called
him
Man of Chalk. It wasn't exactly a super cool nickname.

“Now I can't get back to sleep,” Sacha continued.

“Huh?” Fortune lifted his head, pretty sure he'd been dozing off again.

“I've been trying to get back to sleep so I could see her again, but I can't. You know when you're really
trying
to sleep and it just makes it harder to fall?”
 

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?” Fortune joked. “I do a mean Rock-a-bye Baby.”

“Hit me.”

“Calm down, it's not
that
bad.”
 

“No really, hit me.”

“What?”

“Knock me out so I can sleep.”

“Sacha, no. That's ridiculous. I'm not hitting you.”

“It's why I woke you.”

“Well, it's bonkers. Completely nuts. Crazy.”

“Maybe I am crazy.” He sighed again, despondent. Fortune wondered whether he'd have to stay awake for the rest of the night just to make sure Sacha didn't do something stupid. “I just want to see her again.”

“I know, buddy.” Fortune punched his friend on the shoulder gently. “I know.”

It was a little cooler when Gable crawled out of Zay's tent the next morning, early enough that she hoped to avoid the others – no doubt they'd make false assumptions. She breathed the fresh air in, shivering lightly as the skin on her arms broke out in goosebumps. She welcomed the cool respite, knowing the overbearing heat would be back in no time.

A shadow fell over her and she glanced up quickly.

Nicky stood a foot away, his expression frozen in a mixture of horror and betrayal. He must have been on morning watch. How the hell could she have forgotten?

She closed her eyes for a brief second, imagining what she must have looked like climbing out of Zay's tent. Nicky's imagination was probably going into overdrive. Straightening up, she opened her mouth to explain. . .
something
, but before she could he shook his head and turned on his heel to stalk away, his shoulders stiff as stone.
 

Damn it!

She wanted to call after him, but the others began to emerge from their own tents and she lost her chance. There was no way in hell she was having
that
showdown in front of them.
 

As she watched Nicky walk away, the wicked, dark part of her considered leaving it be, letting him think exactly what he was thinking. Perhaps it would be a good thing? For her, anyway. If he thought she'd hooked up with Zay then maybe he'd back off and let her go, maybe he'd finally get the message and she wouldn't have to keep wrenching both of their hearts out and stomping on them every time she had to reject him.

But God, she couldn't do that. To anyone else, sure. But not to Nicky. Not to the guy who was still there for her, was
always
there for her, even after everything she'd done, even after all the shit she'd put
him
through. It had only been a few weeks since she'd smashed a chair over his head and made him believe she'd murdered a mother and child that he'd been guarding, yet he
still
tried to help her. The only reason he was on this damned faerie island was because of her.
 

She no longer had it in her to be that cruel to him, and she didn't particularly relish the idea of destroying his friendship with Zay. Those guys needed each other. If someone had ever tried to come between her and Sacha, or even her and Terelle, like that, she'd have ended them. Pure and simple.

She sighed and moved over to her tent to retrieve her pack, dreading the day ahead.

+++

Breakfast of dried fruit and energy bars was consumed quickly and then the team packed up camp and marched out, much earlier than they had the day before, which Gable was infinitely grateful for.

Nicky stomped ahead, leading the way. Most of the team barely took notice of his temper – they were all tired and aching and grumpy from little food, so his mood was to be expected. However Zay did shoot him a confused look every now and then when Nicky gave him the cold shoulder especially.

Gable gave Nicky a couple of hours to cool down before she jogged ahead and caught up with him. He was much taller than she was so she had to take two steps to match each one of his long strides when he refused to slow down for her. “It's not what you're thinking,” she told him, making sure she was quiet enough that the others couldn't overhear. “We were just sleeping.”

He eyed her darkly. “Sure.”

“Well if you're gonna be a bitch about it.” He said nothing, so she tried again. “Look, think what you want, but I'm telling the truth.”

He slowed down just a fraction. “Really?”

“Really really. God, Nicky, the kid's barely old enough to drink.”

“If you weren't screwing then why the hell were you in his tent?”

“I was avoiding you, obviously. You were all with the googly eyes over the fire last night and I didn't wanna deal. I was tired.”

He shot her an offended look. “And you thought I'd just climb inside your tent with you?”

“Well, yeah.”

After mulling it over for a few seconds, he shrugged. “Seems like something I'd do,” he agreed. “But why Zay's tent?”

“I was trying for Queenie's. Things happen.”

“So why exactly were you avoiding me?”

She fought back an eye roll, weary of the conversation they'd had so, so many times. “You know why.”

He stopped in his tracks, his face darkening with an oncoming storm. “We're breaking for lunch!” he yelled back at the others, no room for argument in his voice.

Before Gable could ask him what he was playing at, he grabbed hold of her hand and yanked her behind a tree. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against it grumpily, a defiant little part of her kind of hoping it was one of the blood suckers. Anything to avoid having The Conversation.
Again
.  

Nicky loomed over her, one hand resting by the side of her head.

God, he was sexy when he was pissed.

She was messed up in the head.

“Why are you fighting this?” he demanded huskily. “Why are you fighting us?”

“Because we're not an us! There isn't an us for us to be!” And now she sounded like Dr. Seuss.

He cocked his head to one side as he observed her, his expression unreadable. “Is it because of him?” he asked hesitantly, like he wasn't really sure he wanted to know the answer.

Everything in Gable froze, her defiance abandoning her as the fear set in. That same fear that filled every part of her each time somebody asked her this kind of question about
him
, about the two of them. “Don't,” she pleaded softly, but Nicky wasn't to be deterred.

“It is, right? It's because of your werewolf friend. That's why you won't be with me.”

“Nicky,” she warned, hoping he wouldn't go there.

But he did. “Are you in love with him? Are you in love with Sacha?”

It was probably the first time someone had ever come out and just asked her the question outright instead of hinting, and hearing it sucked all of the air out of her body with a whoosh. She shoved him in the chest so she could move around him, pacing away a few angry steps. This was supposed to be the point where she denied it, where she stressed that she and Sacha were friends.
Just friends
.

Yet now she couldn't.

Why couldn't she?

“You can't ask me that,” she bit out, clenching her fists as she glared down a poor, unassuming bush. Though on this island, the bush was probably hiding a dozen sets of razor sharp teeth behind its orange leaves.

“Why not?” She felt him come up right behind her, and when he next spoke, his breath brushed over her ear. “Why can't I ask you that, Gable?”

She span around until they were toe to toe. Her anger wasn't reasonable, she knew that, but then she'd never needed a reason to be an angry bitch before. “Because I don't know!” she yelled. “I don't
know
the answer, Nicky! I never needed to know, and then he was gone and all I had left were my unresolved freaking feelings and suddenly it feels incredibly important that they become
resolved
but I don't know! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

He didn't reply for the longest time; she didn't blame him. He hadn't deserved her wrath, and it definitely hadn't been the answer he'd wanted to hear. Hell, it hadn't been the answer
she'd
wanted to hear, but she hadn't known the truth of it until he'd forced it from her mouth. It wasn't the kind of thing she wanted to dwell on while they were risking their lives.

Eventually he swallowed hard and let out a shaky sigh, running a tanned hand through his black hair. “You know, I've been lying this whole time,” he admitted quietly. “Telling you and even telling myself that I
get
that you're different now, that you're not the same Gabrielle I used to know. But I think a big part of me didn't really believe it, didn't
want
to believe it. Because that girl, Gabrielle the sweet, bitchy little cheerleader, she was mine. She was my girl and she loved me and I fucking loved her, more than I've ever loved anything in my whole damned life.”

Gable hugged her arms to her chest. Other women would have cried at his confession, but she wasn't other women. Every instinct in her was telling her to run or lash out, because that was what she did best when things got heavy or people got behind her walls and her heart was shoved into the firing line. But she didn't do either of those things. She pursed her lips closed and let him talk, because she owed it to him to let him get it off his chest. God, she owed him
something
, because she'd never be able to give him the everything he wanted.