The Art of Courts and Lies (Book 1 in The Gifted Trilogy)

34- Warnings and Confrontations

He was a dirty and broken version of my dearest friend but there were still traces of the boy I once knew. These signs were hidden in the way that, despite his head being lowered so that his chestnut locks hid his face, his shoulders were still pulled back, defiance clear even in his defeated stance. Blood soaked his tattered shirt in multiple areas and his shackled hands bore scratches and bruises that let me know he was grabbed and dragged forcefully many times.

I couldn't stop the sob that broke from my mouth at the sight of him.

Porter's head immediately snapped up at the sound. Through the bars, his eyes locked with mine and I watched the furious look on his face turn into a soft one of disbelief.

"Wren?" he breathed out, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't used it in days.

My chest cracked open at the sound.

"Porter" I managed to rasp out before reaching for the cell door. I knew that even with a broken latch, the chance was still slim that the door would open; but if there was any way to see him, to touch him once more and tell him everything...

The door swung open.

I didn't bother questioning why it hadn't been locked. The only thought running through my mind as I sailed across that grimy cell room was of the boy shackled to the wall in front of me.

I collapsed into a pile in front of him and seized his body, pulling him towards me until my arms wrapped completely around him and his firm chest was pressed into mine.

"I never thought I'd see you again" I laughed through the tears that streamed down my face before dripping onto his shirt. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. Despite the strong scent of blood and sweat, I could still smell the trace of mulch and oak that seemed to be imprinted into his being.

Strong hands slowly pulled me away, despite my whimper, but the second I looked into those brown eyes I had missed and dreamed about so much, I knew that the sight of him was even more heartbreaking and addicting than his scent.

"You're not a dream," Porter rasped out, his eyes frantically looking over every detail of my face. They first searched for the slight scar right at my hairline. Then the freckle beside my left ear. "Please tell me this isn't another hallucination. Please tell me it's actually you."

I let out a shaky breath before reaching up and cupping his face with my two hands. "It's really me" I promised. "This isn't a dream."

A look of shuddering relief broke across his face as his gaze finally dropped to my dress. With furrowed brows, a look of confusion and fury took mold on his bruised and battered face.

"What the hell are you wearing Wren? What the hell have they done to you?" his voice was trembling in anger at the sight of my almost nonexistent clothing. Immediately, he had known that I would never wear a dress like this of my own choosing. It was a symbol that I was their puppet and Porter took full notice of it, his eyes darkening in the similar way the guard's eyes had. Only instead of desire, Porter's were filled with pure fury.

"I'm fine Porter" I tried to reassure him, though my voice didn't sound as convincing as I wanted it to be. "Everything is going to be okay."

The sound that escaped Porter was not a human one, but the sound of a broken creature that had finally been given release. I didn't see his hands move before they were buried in my hair, pushing me forward until my forehead was pressed to his.

"I'm so sorry Wren" he spoke through a shaking voice, his whole body trembling. "I was supposed to protect you and Tessa and I completely failed. This is all my fault."