Fable of Happiness (Fable 1)

Normally, I would ignore her question. If we were back at Fables and she was safely imprisoned in my basement, I would toss her some food and lock the door between us. I would flee before her question had the chance to rip holes in my mind and allow memories to skulk into the light.

But...we were alone.

In a raindrop-drenched forest and, for once, I wanted to share the dreadfulness inside me. I wanted her to know, just a tiny fraction, of the fucking hell that I’d survived. “I know because they neutered me. Those balls you were squeezing as if they’d save your life? They’re utterly pointless. All Fable boys are sterilized. It’s the very first thing they do when we arrive.”

If stillness could ice over and solidify into stone in one breath, she did it. Her body went frigid, her eyes wild. “What did you say?”

I shrugged and raised the keys. “Backyard vasectomy. My first official memory of this place.” Pressing the unlock symbol on the remote, the clunk of the doors opening was faint in the fading storm.

I’d shared a piece of me.

It was time she shared a piece of her.

I stalked toward the vehicle.

“Oh no. No way.” She planted herself in my way. “We need to talk about what you just told me. I-I can’t comprehend...you can’t just say something like that and then not elaborate.”

“No, we don’t need to talk. And yes, I can.” I shoved her to the side. “I’m far more interested in seeing what’s inside there.” Reaching the back of the vehicle, I swung the tailgate wide and shoved up the half window.

She rushed to my side, protective and possessive. “Don’t. Don’t touch anything.”

“What? Think I’m going to destroy everything?” I smiled icily. “I’ve already touched you.” I dropped my stare from her mouth to her breasts to her pussy. “And you’re still in one piece.”

“No, I’m not,” she whispered under her breath before elbowing me aside. “You’re getting everything wet. Close the door.” Reaching for the raised window, her breasts rose and I couldn’t stop myself.

Snatching her close, I bent and sucked on her nipple.

Cool and fresh like rain, earthy and gritty like dirt.

She bowed in my arms then shoved me away. “Stop We need to talk not—”

“I have nothing to say to you.” I let her go. I wasn’t lying that I was more interested in her possessions at this point than her body. I’d already had her body.

And she was right.

Neither of us was in one piece after what we’d done.

And I fucking hated it.

I needed something else to focus on before I lost my ever-loving mind.

My eyes scanned her bags and supplies, settling on water containers, blankets, cables, and rope.

Rope.

Instantly, self-preservation kicked back in. My head still swam. My skull still throbbed. My heart felt strange from being inside her and my mind was confused with the bizarre bond that’d sprung between us.

It all tried to soften me, cajole me, lie to me that whatever this was...it could be a new way of life. I could have this. Whatever this was. A companion. A confidant. Friend.

But it wasn’t real.

What was real was everything knotted inside my head. The scars full of evidence. The house full of screams.

I would never forget.

Never be free to forget—no matter how much I lied to myself.

Which meant I couldn’t let down my guard, or trust, or hope, or allow her to trick me any worse than she already had.

Tossing the keys to the side, I grabbed a length of rope.

Soft teal cord speckled with highlighter pink threads. It glittered as I jerked enough from the coil before spinning around and grabbing my trespasser.

For a second, she scowled. She didn’t see my threat, nor believe I was capable of returning to our prior dynamic before we’d broken each other. She treated me as if we were normal—as if our cursed beginning had somehow morphed into an average relationship.

That would never happen.

It can’t.

She wasn’t welcome here, yet she wasn’t permitted to leave.

She was mine to fuck, kill, or betray.

She’s still my enemy.

Her shock gave me enough time to grab her wrists, bind them together, and wrap the rope tight around her.

Her mouth fell open as she jerked back, doing her best to fight me off. “Seriously? You seriously just tied me up after what we just did?”

“Perhaps it’s because of what we just did.”

I’m hurting.

Give me time to figure this shit out.

“Argh! You don’t give up, do you?”

I kept my voice flat and cold. “Not while you’re still breathing, no.”

She sucked in a worried breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I rolled out my shoulders. “It means, if you keep pushing me, I’ll keep pushing back.”

“If you let me go, then there’s nothing to push against. We had sex. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Fuck, yes.

It’s screwed me up and blown me apart and I’m barely fucking functioning.