Broken Pieces Read online

  “You have good arms, you need to work them. She is weak,” Father says, pointing to Rebekah, and now I’m the one sighing in annoyance. She’s perfect the way she is. She just needs a formula that works. “She needs the extra pieces.”

  “I’m not weak, and I’m fine,” she spits back before I can.

  “Ah, we shall see. But enough for today. We have a meeting.”

  “A meeting?” she asks and, crap, I thought she knew. This won’t be good.

  As I reach for my shirt, I feel her eyes on me as she asks, “What meeting?”

  “Not you, my love. You go rest.”

  When I look back at her, she’s glaring, her shoulders back taut, the frustration coming off her in a tidal wave. She isn’t allowed to go to the family meetings. She’s too young, according to my father. But, really, he just wants to keep her in the dark because he feels it’s all too much for her. The fact that she can’t be immortal like us is enough for her to handle, no reason to give her the rest of the problems of the Patchwork. Plus, he feels she’ll get scared, and he can’t have that happen to his baby. He wants her to feel safe at all times, and I do too. But I truly believe knowledge is power, and the more she knows, the stronger she’ll be.

  Squeezing her fist, she tips her chin up. “But I want to go to the meeting. What’s the meeting about?”

  “You’re too young,” Father says, giving life to my previous thought, but I know that’s not enough for her.

  Sliding my feet into my tennis shoes, I meet her heated gaze. “It’s not a big deal. Just a matter we have to address. Stupid shifter shit,” I explain, my green eyes drilling into hers. I want her to be quiet, I don’t want her causing a fight, but even I know that is a pointless request.

  “But I want to know. When do I get to know?”

  “When you’re older,” my father says dismissively as he starts for the door, but she’s right on his heels, her hands going up in the air.

  “But Cyrus gets to go? He’s one year older than me! Plus, I’m way smarter than him, you’ve said it yourself.”

  I scoff, looking back at Cyrus, who is pulling his head out of his shirt and glaring. “Hey!”

  She isn’t lying, though, she’s a very smart girl, Cyrus…well, he’s good at other things. That’s why we’ve always said, “Thank God Cyrus is pretty.”

  Before I can razz him any, my father is speaking again, and I look up as Rebekah’s body flushes with exasperation. “It’s nothing that concerns you. The boys, yes, because they fight for this family—”

  “Then let me fight!” she yells, and I shake my head. I appreciate her tenacity, I do, but I need her to be immortal before she fights. She could take down armies of people, I know she can, but one stick of a blade in her heart and it’s over. Her heart beats loudly, ours don’t. Until her heart matches ours, she can’t fight for this family. No matter how much she wants to.

  “So you can die? No, I love you more than that. Now, go on.”

  “No! I want to be involved. I want to feel included. I’m always locked away, I never get to do anything. Be a part of anything. Father, let me be a part of this family,” she implores, and while I agree it’s not fair, I don’t understand how she doesn’t get that we are trying to protect her.

  “You are,” he stresses, and I can see the pain on his face. He loves us epically, but especially her. I know he feels like a failure when it comes to the baby of this family. He feels he should be able to save her, and he hasn’t been able to yet and it weighs heavy on his heart. I’ve offered to take over everything so he can focus on just her, but Father won’t budge.

  And while my offer may be for my own selfish reasons, I also want my sister to be immortal like us. I hate seeing her struggling.

  “But we have to protect you,” he reminds her, and I suck in a deep breath. She doesn’t like being babied.

  “No, you don’t. I can protect myself. I am a part of this family, yes? I’m an adult. Let me be involved.” She crosses her arms over her chest as his gaze holds hers. “You don’t let me do anything. I don’t go to meetings, I don’t get to go out, and it’s not right. Especially when the boys get to do whatever they want.”

  She has a point, but again, it is pointless. He won’t let her go until she is immortal. It’s that simple. Coming up behind her, I place my hand on the small of her back. She flinches a little, ready for the fight, until she sees it’s me. She then calms a bit, her eyes hopeful as I meet my father’s annoyed gaze. “Father, if I may, I feel she’s at the age where she can handle everything. She’s smarter than all of us and just as strong. I feel it may be time to allow her in on some things.”

  She beams at me while Jonas nods. “And let’s be honest, she’ll get in there and get bored. So really, let’s just entertain her.

  She glares back at Jonas as he wraps his arm around her, kissing her temple.

  Clearing his throat, Cyrus adds, “She’s part of this family, and since she is part of the threat, she needs to know.”

  “Threat?” Rebekah asks, concern bubbling in her voice, and my eyes drift shut. This is what we wanted to protect her from. All the bad in the world. Our world. Well, maybe not the whole world, just the damn Kelleys, the shifter clan. “What threat?”

  Letting out an annoyed breath, Father shakes his head. “To my office.”

  With that and the winning grin on my sister’s face, I know she has won.

  Which means I guess it’s time to let her in on the dealings of the Patchwork.

  I just hope she can handle it.

  My father’s office always reminds me of the office from The Godfather.

  Sometimes I feel like I’ll walk in here and see Don Vito Corleone behind the desk, that’s how much it reminds me of the film. It’s very old and rustic. Full of all the treasures my father has collected over the many years of his life. It’s almost like stepping back in time, and while my siblings might like it, I don’t. I like the modern look more, or maybe it’s because this room just reminds me of the old rules, the old way, and I’m ready for the new way. I’m ready for a new Patchwork.

  One I’ll run.

  But alas, I haven’t found the Godfather behind the desk, only my father, someone who instills fear in almost everyone he meets. Mostly because he looks like he has one foot in the grave. He’s ancient, looks almost mummified. Very Tales of the Crypt, which is why everyone is scared to talk to him. Not me, though. I’m not scared of him. Not as a person. But his power…that’s a whole other story.

  While I’m scared of it, I want it. I want to be the king he isn’t, and I will be. I’m just not sure when since I was actually already supposed to be in command. When my name day came—we call it the Ceremony of the Patchwork—it was said I would take over command on my twenty-fifth birthday. Father figured by then he would be ready to retire. To my dismay, he also had put in the contract in very small print that it was up to him if he was ready to step down. No one else. Just him, and because of that, I just celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday, and I’m still not in command.

  Bullshit.

  I sit down first around the round table that is positioned to the left of my father’s desk in his big office. While the office is old, it’s not small. There are three rooms connected as one. To the left of the round table is also a large library, then his actual office, and then his sitting room for when he needs to think. I don’t want this office when I take over, but that’s something I’ll worry about when it’s time.

  Cyrus and Jonas sit first, with JJ and then Rebekah right behind them. She positions herself beside me with an almost scared look on her face. She’s probably tormenting herself about the threat thing, and I hate that Cyrus said something. I wish she wasn’t even here, but then no one would get any peace. The poor girl is always locked away; she needs to be involved, no matter how much that scares me.

  As I watch my father sit, he doesn’t do so smoothly. His movements are jerky before he folds his old, leathery hands together and his eyes scan the roo