Chapter 9 ~Like Broken Glass
Damon’s P.O.V.
Carefully I slid under the sheets, keeping my eyes on KC. She glared harshly at me from her side of the bed, her arms crossed across her chest and her body propped up by her pillows. She had taken a shower, dressed into a black tank top and boy shorts, and reluctantly agreed to listen to my story.
“Are you comfortable?” I asked, looking over at her. She hardened her glare before answering.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re sitting there,” she replied coldly, her eyes narrowing. I chuckled and the corner of KC’s lip twitched towards a frown.
“Why you got to be mean?”
“Why’d you have to lie?” she spat defensively. I inhaled a deep breath to keep myself from firing back. “Are you going to tell me a story or can I go to sleep?”
I sighed before smiling gently at her. “Once upon a time…”
“Oh, here we go,” KC rolled her eyes, but I chose to ignore her.
“There was a girl named Katie Blarez.” KC’s eyes darkened and she looked away, staring out the balcony window. “She was… different.” I chose my words carefully, watching KC closely in fear that she would either bolt or attack. “Katie was small for her age, with brunette hair tinted with golden highlights. She loved the arts, theater, drawing, but no one ever gave her a second glance for her talent. Maybe because she was quiet around people she knew well enough to hate.”
KC glanced at me for a moment, but in that moment I could see that she was full with interest and curiosity and I knew she was wondering how I remembered all of that.
“On the opposite side of the social chain there was an ass named Damon Falon,” I said and I saw an amused smirk barely crack KC’s lips. “Damon was a spoiled brat with powerful parents who showered him with praise and gifts, never wondering if it’d ever go to his head. Maybe they should’ve.” I continued, finishing the last sentence quietly. KC was looking at me now, her face hard and emotionless but her grey eyes expressing the faintest care.
“Damon knew with all that power he could get any friends he wanted, human or werewolf. But, he figured to maintain that power he had to stay with the powerful kids, the ones that didn’t let the weak ones grasp any power at all. For a long time he had been successful, eliminating some of the weakest so that they went to private schools or homeschooled. But don’t get me wrong, he never really enjoyed that part. He enjoyed the power.” I noticed that KC had grimaced and was glancing towards the window again; the silver sliver of moon was high against the black sky, bright stars speckling the scenery.
“He didn’t let his real feelings show, though, and he became more loved. Well, at least he thought it was love and acceptance. It was really just people who liked to use Damon’s power to their own advantage. He didn’t know that at the time.” I glanced up at the portrait of my parents over the fireplace before glancing over at KC who was still gazing out the window. “Then, in seventh grade, Damon met Katie and they clashed like cats and dogs.
No matter how much Damon tried to break her like he had done to so many others, she wouldn’t shatter, not even crack. He teased her for hours of a day, knocked books out of her hands, stepped on her artwork, and still she would just ignore him. One day, Damon remembers that Katie had gone to school very sad looking. She was pale and her eyes were dark, but Damon didn’t think much of it and continued to torture her.” My chest felt hollow as I remembered the pain I saw KC in and now a tear had slipped down the side of her face, leaving a dark spot on the comforter. But, I knew she had to hear it so I continued.
“Damon had thought it was him who had finally broken her. But, at the end of the year Katie moved away and Damon learned why Katie was actually broken. Almost five years later, Damon felt the same pain Katie did, or at least he thought when Beta Ben Smith picked him up from school, informing him about the demise of his parents. However painful, Damon knew deep down that the pain he felt couldn’t even come close to the pain he inflicted on Katie. Months later, Katie returns, but she wasn’t the same shattered girl that Damon remembered; she was karma in a leather jacket.”
A smirk flickered at the end of KC’s lips and I dared himself to move closer towards her. KC didn’t notice.
“And, I think you know the ending.” I finished and KC looked to me. Her eyes were wet, cluttered with trapped tears.
“Of course,” she whimpered, trying to force a half smile to her face. “The ending was the best part. Well, kind of.” A mix of a sob and a laugh escaped her lips and then I realized; I had never seen KC actually cry. I’ve witnessed her shed a tear or two on a couple occasions, but never actually cried.
“KC, I know you’re hurt and I know it’s because of me, but please, let me make it right,” I pleaded, slowly putting an arm around her shoulder; she didn’t stop me or move away. Instead, she buried her face in my chest and seconds later I felt warm tears soaking my shirt and quiet sobs shook my mate.
***
It was late at night when terrified whimpers and moans woke me up. I forced my eyes open and that’s when I felt the pinches of pain on my shoulders and chest. I looked down and saw KC clutching me the way she had been when she had cried to sleep, but her claws were drawn and digging into my chest and shoulder. She was whimpering, the way she does when she has a nightmare. Gently, I shook her shoulder, trying to wake her.
“KC,” I whispered, but then a growl rumbled in her chest and her canines elongated. Sweat was beading off of her forehead and her face was contorted in pain.
“KC,” I repeated a little louder, gripping her arms firmly but gently. Her claws dug deeper as a scream ripped from her mouth and tears streamed down her cheeks.
“KC!” I yelled a final time, my voice louder and splitting her sleep. Her bloodshot eyes shot open and she looked around the room, releasing a relieved sigh before she looked up at me. She noticed that her claws were dug deep into my skin and she hesitantly withdrew them, her eyes empty yet scanning my face for judgment.
“Another nightmare?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“They’re getting worse,” she responded, her voice dry and cracking from crying. She slid out of bed and walked into the bathroom in her black tank and white and black tartan pajama pants. A moment later she swore and I was up and in the doorway of the bathroom in a second. I looked in and saw KC standing by the sink with her bloody foot in her hands. Around her other foot on the floor was shattered glass that belonged to the mirror.
“I forgot I broke that frigging mirror,” she seethed as I maneuvered the shards and picked her up, carrying her out and into the kitchen. Flicking on the light, I sat KC on the counter and returned to the bathroom, moving around the glass pieces towards the cabinet. I pulled it open and dug through it before I found the tweezers and a pack of Band-Aids and returned to the kitchen where KC was trying to pick the pieces out of her foot with her fingernails.
“Let me do it,” I said, getting down on my knees in front of her and gently grabbing her ankle. She watched me carefully as I brought the tweezers to her heel. Her warm blood trickled onto my hand as I carefully tried to remove the glass, KC wincing when I touched the wound.
“Hold still,” I said when her foot flinched when I pulled out a shard the size of my thumb. She growled quietly and looked away, trying to preoccupy her attention. “You’ve never told me what your nightmares are about.” I said, continuing to work on her foot.
“Because they’re my burden; not yours,” she said through clenched teeth, still not looking down.
“Well, if you’re going to wake me up every night then they kind of are,” I joked softly, knowing better than to push my luck. She glanced down at me before rolling her eyes, defeated.
“Doyle’s in them. Sometimes you. Sometimes my dad,” she whispered, folding her arms around her leg and resting her chin on her knee, still looking away. She muffled a yelp when I plucked out another jagged shard of glass that was embedded in the arch of her foot. “Doyle’s chasing me; calling for me, mocking me. I’m out in the woods at night, running and trying to get away, but I’m injured.” She gulped and I knew this was hard for her to share, especially with me. I paid attention as she continued, reaching into the bag for a wet wipe so I could not only disinfect her foot, but also wash off the blood. She winced when the chemicals made contact with her wounds.
“My dad’s calling to me, but I know he’s a figment of my imagination or one of Doyle’s tricks, but sometimes he’s just so real.” She paused and sucked in a deep breath. “I saw him at our wedding, Damon.”
“What?” I questioned, taking my eyes off of KC’s foot so I could stare up at her, making sure I heard right.
“KC, your father’s dead. He’s been for years.”
“Trust me, I know, but I know what I saw. No one’s eyes are greyer than my dad’s, though,” she sighed, doubt residing in her voice. I began wrapping gauze around her foot, but I kept my eyes on her, watching her reactions, the conflict expressed behind her eyes.
“I can hear you, but I never see you. Whenever I try to follow your voice, it’s Doyle’s face that I meet,” she said and I dropped my gaze to the floor after finishing her bandaging.
“I’m pretty sure I got all the glass, but it doesn’t look like it’ll take long to heal. Not that I’d know or anything,” I informed, getting to my feet. KC was watching me closely, her eyes gazing into mine. I rested my hands on the counter on either side of my mate, her eyes glinting with… something. My wolf suddenly became aware of my dominant position over he and all he could see was our mate sitting in front of us, looking innocent under the lights of the kitchen, her skin smooth and lips red. Unconsciously, I slowly began leaning in, but when my KC’s breath fanned my face my wolf felt the rejection of her not returning.
“Please, Damon, I just can’t right now,” she whispered, her words stabbing my wolf. I nodded weakly, my fingers bawling into fists. KC slid off of the counter and I moved out of her way, staying close as she slowly made her way back towards the bed. She didn’t say another word as we both slid under the covers, KC facing towards the window, and me facing KC.