Page 45 of Shattered Vows

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just… want to help if I can. Even if it’s only by listening.”

He’s silent for so long that I fear he’s going to push me away and storm into the manor.

“It’s because of my father, and what he did.”

I ease up onto my elbow and look down at him. His eyes are clouded with pain and grief.

“What did he do?” I whisper.

Kol brings his arm down from over his head and gently forces me back into the position I was in, so my cheek is pressed against his chest, and I can’t see his face. Only then does he continue.

“My father was a bastard. And that’s putting it mildly. His way of resolving conflict was with his fists—even when it came to his wife and his children.”

I don’t dare move a muscle for fear that he’ll stop talking.

“It didn’t even have to be something big. Accidentally spilling your drink at the dinner table could be enough to set him off sometimes. I don’t have a clear memory of when it started, how old I was. It seems like it was always like that. Growing up with him as a father was like walking a tightrope and never knowing when you might make a misstep, but knowing if you did, it might be your funeral next.”

He exhales audibly and scrubs his face with his palm.

“The maze thing…” I hear him swallow hard with my ear pressed against his chest. “When I really pissed him off, he’d drag me into the middle of the maze in the darkness of night. There’s a small courtyard in the middle. He’d leave me there all alone. The first time he did it, I was so scared I pissed my pajamas.”

I squeeze him with the arm I have wrapped around him. “How old were you?”

“The first time I must’ve been around five, maybe six.”

I work to keep the tears in my eyes from falling. And to think that I once judged Kol for having something to do with his father’s death. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. I don’t care at this point, knowing what a monster his father was. I’m glad he’s dead. Otherwise, I might have killed him myself.

“He always thought I had too much pride, and it pissed him off when that pride showed. Maybe he was right. I’m sure pride is partly why I flew across the country to kidnap you.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Funny, my pride is one of the things my mom always said she loved most about me, and it was the thing he hated the most. Guess that’s a good indicator of why they had such a shit marriage.”

“Kol—”

“Anyway, that’s why every year when this anniversary rolls around, all four of us are in shit moods. We’re all glad he’s dead, but it churns up a lot of stuff from our pasts. Asher and Anabelle got married in the maze a few months ago, and I told them I could handle it. That I could spend an hour in there if I had to. But when the day rolled around, I got high as fucking kite just to get out of my head enough to step inside.”

I lift up onto my elbow again and take him in.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that.” He narrows his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Don’t pity me.” He pushes off the ground and steps over to his clothes that lay discarded in the grass.

With a sigh, I get up too. “I don’t pity you, Kol. I can feel badly for what you went through without pitying you.” I slide on my panties then reach down to grab my bra. “No child should ever have to go through what you did.”

“Maybe I deserved it.” He pulls his shorts up to his waist, then sets his hands on his hips and stares at the ground.

I clasp my bra and walk over to him, then clasp his face in my hands. “No one deserves that, do you hear me? No one.”

He meets my gaze. Though the pain is still there, something like understanding lurks under the surface. “I guess neither of us got what we deserved growing up.”

His comment strikes true, like an arrow nailing me in the center of my heart.

Chapter

Twenty-One

RAPSODY

Kol directs us on the path that will lead down to the stables. The day is overcast, and dark gray clouds roll by. Though it’s still pretty hot, it feels more like a late fall day on the West Coast than a summer day in the south.

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