A Protector's Second Chance (Unit Matched #2) (6 page)

I stopped him. “No, it’s true. This beautiful, precious baby is going to grow up without a father, because of me. Xaviera is alone, and it’s because of me. I’m so worthless. What have I done?” My knees buckled.

Oliver caught me. “You’re not worthless, Amaya.”

“I’ve ruined so many lives. I knew the Rules. I did and look what happens when you break them.” I grasped his neck tightly and cried harder.

I cried for Xaviera. How scared she must be. How much stress she was under. On top of that, I knew Thaddeus loved Xaviera. You could see it every time he was around her. Now, he’ll never know his child, and his life with Xaviera is over.

“Come on; let’s get back to the cabin.” Oliver picked me up in his arms and placed me in the car.

Chapter 18

Day 41 of 90

I lay in bed unable to cry anymore. I was able to get some sleep, but it was only because my body and my mind were exhausted.

Oliver had brought me lunch, but I didn’t touch it. I couldn’t eat knowing what horrible things were happening in Unit because of me.

I rolled out of bed and washed my face. The redness of my eyes stood out around my green pupils. I’ve never cried this much in my life, not even when my parents were beating the crap out of me.

I took my tray downstairs and put it in the kitchen. I saw Oliver working on the computers and I walked over to the table that still had all of my journals on it. I sat down on the chair closest to them. I looked at them all. My fears, my secrets, my dreams, they were all housed on those pages.

“I was eight when I started writing down my thoughts.” The words left my mouth before I knew it. Oliver turned and looked at me.

“It was where I could say anything I wanted.” I shrugged. “My parents never knew about it. If they had,” I stopped. I didn’t want to think about what would have happened.

“I wrote all the time.” I continued. “It was therapeutic for me.”

“Why so young?” Oliver’s question made my heart stop for a second.

“Did you read any of them?” I ignored his question.

“No.”

I stared at all the black and white covers. I was thankful that he hadn’t betrayed me.

“Would you at least enlighten me on something?”

I nodded.

“Why do you think you’re worthless?”

My stomach dropped. Of course, he would ask that question first.

“You can trust me,” he pleaded. “Please, Amaya.”

“I don’t think I can even cry anymore.” I started. “I’ve cried so much these past forty days.”

“Forty-one,” he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. “Forty-one.”

He smirked.

“Do you know why our parents Matched us?”

Oliver shook his head. “I don’t know. I never asked.”

“I never did, either. Of course, your parents might be more forthcoming than mine.”

“Why would you say that?”

“My parents are more private, I guess.” That wasn’t a total lie. My parents
were
that way until they started drinking.

“You can tell me. I want you to trust me.”

I give him a small smile. “I actually do trust you, Oliver, especially after yesterday.”

“My rebellious streak?”

I laughed softly. “I don’t think one day counts as a streak.”

“Good point.” He came over and sat in the chair across from me.

My heart raced, and my hands became sweaty. His green eyes studied me and I knew there were going to be a lot more questions. I couldn’t tell Oliver the truth. Those were secrets of mine and only on the pages of my books would hold them. I picked at one of the edges of the journals trying to get my emotions in order.

But I did trust him.

“I wasn’t good at writing when I started this.” I grabbed one of the older ones from the bottom of the pile.

I flipped through several pages as memories came to life in my mind. I stopped at one particular scene I had drawn, and my hands began to shake.

“Every family has secrets, right?”

Oliver looked at me, unsure where I was heading.

“I guess so.”

My bottom lip quivered. “Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Does your family have secrets?” his voice was low.

I nodded.

I studied the page I had drawn so many years ago. It depicted me on the ground, red around me, and a vodka bottle.

I was nine, and Mom had cracked me in the head with the clear bottle. I wasn’t fast enough for her. She thought it would teach me better reflexes. I had to have ten stitches right behind my ear.

“Amaya.” Oliver reached for my hand, but I pulled away.

“I’ll tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone.”

Why?

Why would I tell him?

Every part of my soul screamed for me to tell him, that I could trust him.

He nodded slightly, still staring at me.

“My parents drink.” I rushed the words out.

“That’s not uncommon.” Oliver seemed confused. “A lot of citizens have a glass of wine, or a drink, every now and again.”

I smirked. Poor Oliver, he had no clue what I was talking about. “I mean really drink. All the time.”

“Oh,” he seemed to understand what I was saying now.

I couldn’t look at him for a while. I kept my eyes trained on my drawing.

“Are there other secrets?”

My mouth was dry. I closed my eyes. My eyelashes held back the forming tears.

“I’m going to bed.” I left the table and ran upstairs, letting the tears fall.

Chapter 19

Day 42 of 90

My father’s hands were growing tighter around my neck. I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his hands and forearms to release me.

I tried to scream, to get someone to help me, for my dad not to kill me, and I tried not to panic. There was no one to help me.

I heard the laughter from the corner, and there was my mother. She was sitting in a chair, drinking from her favorite clear bottle of vodka, and pointing at me.

“You’re so worthless. You ruin everything. Look what you did to the Royal bloodline. The biggest scandal in Unit history, and now the second in line to the throne will be fatherless. It’s all because of you.”

“I’m sorry,” I tried to say, but his hands were tighter around my neck.

“Amaya.” I heard Oliver’s voice from afar.

“Help,” I tried to yell for him.

“Amaya, wake up.” His voice was closer.

My father’s hands began to fade, and my mother disappeared.

“Amaya.” Oliver’s voice was filled with concern and panic.

I popped my eyes open, and he was staring down at me. I felt around my neck, making sure no one was really choking me.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”

I was trying to catch my breath and I instinctively grabbed his hand.

“Calm me,” I pleaded. Immediately my heart returned to normal as did my breathing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you want me to get you something to drink?”

I shook my head and squeezed his hand tighter.

“Okay. I’m right here.” He cupped my face in his hands, wiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

It was the first real intimate touch we’d ever shared. Oliver had tried many times, but I had always pushed him away.

Not now.

Now, I welcomed it. I felt safer feeling his skin against mine. I’d never felt this before.

I don’t know how long we stayed in that position, but we didn’t move for a while. His thumbs kept caressing my cheeks, and it calmed me more. I knew he wasn’t using his powers. It was him, just being there.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Okay. Why don’t you wash your face? I’ll go grab you some water.”

I nodded and watched Oliver walk out of the bedroom. I got up and washed my face, brushed my teeth, and looked myself over.

My green eyes looked dull next to the puffiness of my traumatic crying. My lips were swollen and my nose was red. I was a hot mess of emotions.

“Amaya?” Oliver knocked on the bathroom door.

“One second.” I dried my face and went to him.

He handed me a glass of water. We sat on the bed together in silence. There was comfort in just having him close to me.

“Hey, how about we head downstairs and work out together?” Oliver gave me a hopeful smile.

“That sounds great.” Even though I was tired, I needed to get my mind off my nightmare.

Oliver took my hand and we headed down to the gym. I knew I was still in my pajamas, but I didn’t care. I needed to work off the anxiety still pumping through me. I felt like it had me wrapped in a cocoon.

I started on the treadmill and kept running. Oliver was on the one next to me and stayed with me stride-for-stride. I didn’t stop until I almost collapsed.

Oliver caught me in his strong arms, picking me up fireman style. He carried me to a small bench in the corner.

“Do you want me to calm you?”

I hadn’t realized I was crying until he said anything.

“Just hold me,” I said, without thinking.

Oliver tightened his arms around me. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he tilted his head to rest on mine.

And I felt safe.

Oliver didn’t loosen his grip until he heard my stomach grumbling.

He chuckled. “You think maybe we should feed you?”

“In a second,” I whispered.

“Okay. Do you want to talk?”

“About what?” I played dumb.

“Anything you want.”

My nightmare was still in the front of my mind. Should I tell Oliver?

“How well do you know my parents?” I was nervous as I asked him.

“I think pretty well. Mom is your Mom’s Controller. We’ve been to a lot of Unit functions. So, yeah, I know them. Plus, they’re the trainees of the Protectors.”

I looked up at him. “Do you think they’re nice?”

Oliver blinked at me. ”Why?”

“I think your family is nice. Well, more than nice.”

He continued to stare at me, but we remained quiet for a moment.

“Amaya, I wished you trusted me to just say what you’re thinking.”

“You want to know?”

“Very much so.”

I smiled. “I’m hungry.”

He smirked. “I can help with that.” Oliver’s face turned serious. “Please remember that I’m here, and that you can trust me.”

I knew that he meant it. I knew in my heart I could, but my brain wouldn’t let me say the words that had been hidden inside for so long.

“I’m going to shower.” Before I moved, I made the boldest move ever between us; I kissed his cheek. I left the comfort of his arms before he could respond.

I showered, changed into a pair of jeans, and a sweater, and went to the kitchen. I had planned to make us something to eat, but Oliver had beat me to it.

“Chicken salad and chips, okay? I figured it’s almost lunchtime,” Oliver smiled.

“Sounds yummy. I’ll set the table.” We moved seamlessly around each other. Almost like we knew each other’s movements. I set the table up, as Oliver put sandwiches on a platter and chips in a bowl.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to make something else, but I was hungry, too.” Oliver inhaled his first sandwich.

“Actually, this is perfect.” I took a bite and moaned. “Correction, it’s absolutely perfect.”

“I’m glad.”

“Oliver,” I looked at him. “I really meant what I said, thank you.”

“Amaya,” he took a sip of his water. “You’re my Matched. I would move mountains for you. I wish you could understand that.”

I’ve never been shy or quiet, but Oliver seemed to have brought that side of me to the surface. A side that I hadn’t even known existed.

I studied his very gorgeous face as he began eating again. Sometimes I thought I was the smartest person in the room and at other times, I was the idiot.

Right now, I was the idiot.

Here Oliver sat, next to me. He had done nothing but be there for me, and here I was still being a bitch to him.

“You said I could trust you.” I stared at my journals, still at the end of the table.

“You can.” He leaned back in his chair. “I promise.”

I took a deep breath. “My parents aren’t nice.” I stood up and picked up the journal I’d opened earlier.

I sat closer to Oliver to show him the picture. I felt like I was naked on a large stage and thousands of people were staring at me. I’d never spoken about this to anyone.

“I wrote in the books because I couldn’t tell anyone the truth. I’ve never said anything.” The tears sat behind my eyes, ready to fall.

I pushed the composition book over to him. I was going to tell. I trusted him.

“I didn’t always write. When I was young, I drew pictures. This is one of them.”

Oliver studied it. “May I hear the story behind it?” His voice was low.

“Mom thought I needed to learn to move faster,” I whispered. “She did it by throwing empty vodka bottles at me.”

I turned my head, pointing to my scar. “I learned quickly.”

Oliver’s eyes were wide, and I wondered what he was thinking. I couldn’t tell by the unreadable expression on his face.

“What else happened?”

I pointed to my journals. “All of that. Every stitch, broken bone, and training session is on those pages. Of course, every late night drunken binge, which was every night, is there, too. All my pain, my dreams of leaving Unit, and my hope that someday I’ll make everyone proud is in there too.”

When I turned back to Oliver, he still had the same expression on his face.

“When did it start?”

I shrugged. “As far back as I can remember.”

“I don’t remember anyone else complaining about your parents. I mean, Graham praised them both during his training.”

I laughed. “My parents are saints when they aren’t drinking.” I paused. “But, the moment the bottle of vodka or gin touches their lips,” I closed my eyes, as all the memories pushed to the forefront.

Oliver continued to stare at me and I could finally see the shock on his face. “I can’t believe it.”

“You don’t believe me?” I could hear my voice squeak. How could he think that?

“I know you’re telling the truth. I’m usually very good at reading people. What I meant was, Mom has been to your house a hundred times, and she never said anything.”

“Mrs. Thomas never saw it. My parents are able to hide their drinking very well. We always knew ahead of time when people were coming over,” I explained.

“So, this has been going on your whole life?” Oliver’s voice was low again.

I answered by pointing at the end of the table. “It’s all right there.”

“Your sister, too?”

“Yes,” I closed my eyes. Even though she and I weren’t close, I had done my best to save her, time and time again.

“Did you ever tell the Princess or Gia?”

I shook my head slowly. “If they saw me with bruises, they thought I was training too hard or I made some lame excuse to them.”

Oliver’s face lost all color. “When we first got here, you were hurt, weren’t you?”

I nodded. “Mom and Dad weren’t that happy about the attention I’d brought to our family.”

He squeezed my hand. I hadn’t even noticed that he was holding my hand. I stared at his green eyes. I truly wished that I could tell what he was thinking. Oliver kept running his thumb over my knuckle. He wasn’t using his powers, but his touch was keeping me calm.

“I’m going to lay down.” I left him sitting at the table.

“Why did you tell me?” he softly asked.

“Because no matter how much Xaviera misses me, she’ll still banish me for breaking the Rules. My word doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

I rushed away from him. I had finally said the words I’d been hiding all this time.