SIW: Adam & Bronwille Ch. 03

The usual applies. Many thanks to Evilsnoman and Nulli for the proofing eye, Mikothebaby, for her super-duper edit skills and The Guild for their continuous support.

In this chapter also the concluding part to "Broken Bones", nothing "bad" happening so no disclaimer needed for it this time. Cedar you rocked with this short tale, no words can describe how grateful I am for providing something so dark and utterly gut-wrenching, but also so very fitting to this story and her past.

A second thanks goes to Evilsnoman for crafting such an emotional poem, only praise about that one sweetie!

Enough with the thank-you's now and I'll let you get on with reading this, so far still, weekly update!

Mokkelke

Chapter Three : Soul Searching and Planning.

Adam was running at full speed, low branches hitting his sides, his snout. He didn't care, he just needed to get rid of this anger. This helplessness he felt after reading each paragraph of Bron's story. He had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, but he couldn't understand that a human being could do this to another and gloat about it.

He growled at his phantom enemy, wanting revenge, wanting to get even. At the same time, a lot of his own phantoms came back to the surface. Things Adam hoped he would have learned to put behind him. Sadly that was not the case. Reading her story had opened up his Pandora's Box of feelings he would have rather kept buried, preferably even forgotten.

Faces flashed before his eyes, men he lost, most due to the enemy, and one that he was to blame for.

Sitting at the lake he howled his grief and pain for those he lost, he howled for those he couldn't help. Slowly he was changing back into the person he used to be. His wolf stopped him, for once being the saner one. We need our mate, then all will be well, his wolf kept telling him over and over again until he started to calm down.

Shifting to human form he sat down and stared into the distance, taking in his surroundings. He counted himself very lucky knowing the Whelan brothers and he sure appreciated them allowing him to run on their lands. Not many packs would allow that. Two out of the three are mated now; one already had a little one on the way.

Thinking about them had momentarily shifted his attention away from his anger. Bron sprung forward in his mind. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm. He counted to ten, once, twice. Only after the fifth time, did he trust himself enough to bring forth what he had read in her second chapter.

The pain, the abuse, the humiliation ... it was hard for him to give this a place but he had to, for Bron's sake as well as his own. Little by little he went over her story and picked out details he was sure would be of use. No matter what she had to tell in her third and last chapter, no way that he was going to let things be as they were or had been.

No way was he going to be able to let that scum get away with what they did to his Bron. He had to admire her for her strength, it was no easy feat working through the ordeal she was forced through and doing it on her own. Maybe she didn't realize it but she was strong, stronger then she gave herself credit for.

Thinking back to what Mia had told him, strengthened his beliefs. Finally getting a grip on his emotions he knew he had to read the rest. He needed to know what happened. Shifting back to wolf, he then let out one long howl, calling out for his mate; letting her now he was here.

He quickly turned and raced back to his bike, glad to find his clothes still next to it. Haphazardly he put them on and made a quick bike ride home. When he entered his flat, he smiled when he saw his computer was still turned on.

Adam sat down, opened her story page and sat there. His wolf was still pacing, he hadn't settled down completely. He contemplated waiting to read this last part, but he knew that would only be stalling the inevitable. Better to get this over with so he knew everything. Not really everything, but what she wanted to share.

As he opened the third chapter, he noticed it wasn't as long as the other two. He felt a bit relieved. Adam was sure if he was forced to read another chapter like the other two, he would completely loose it.

After reading the first paragraph he let out his breath he didn't knew he was holding back. Focused he read the ending of "Broken Bones".

* * * *

* * * *

Broken Bones Chapter Three By RedB

Amelia woke to a very bright light and a pounding headache. For a moment she feared this was another torture device that Rubin had thought up until a soft, warm hand touched her face.

"Shhh, you're safe now sweetie. It's all right. You're safe."

Amelia couldn't open her eyes, and when her shaking hand raised up to explore why, she felt that both of them were swollen shut and so was her trembling lip that her fingers traced on its way back to the bed.

"Wh-appened to ee," she mumbled through her swollen lips.

"You don't remember?" the nurse asked.

"Wh-am I?"

"Mt. Cloud Hospital. Three days ago a van pulled up and dumped you on the door steps of the emergency room. You had no ID and no clothes. Not to mention you were near death from whatever it was they did to you. Thankfully, you'd been drugged so you probably didn't feel much of the pain."

Amelia stifled a cry as the memories flooded back through her mind, causing her to want to curl into a ball, but the pain from every inch of her body was enough to keep her motionless. The woman pressed a button and the IV unit by the bed beeped as the morphine drip kicked in.

"There you go, darling. That should help. Let me get the police officer whose been waiting for you to wake up. Maybe you can describe the men who did this to you."

"Nah, nah nah," she moaned, "No more," she tried to say but the nurse was already gone. Moments later a man arrived in a crisp blue police uniform and as he approached, his eyes said it all. She was a mess and he pitied her.

"Miss? I'm Officer Moore. Can you tell me your name?"

"Amelia Rice."

"Do know what happened to you?" he asked as he assumed a chair near the bed and kept his voice low because he could see her wincing from the sound of his voice.

"Yes," she moaned and prayed he'd go away. Being around a man, any man for that matter at the moment was near panic inducing.

"Do you know who did this to you?"

"Don't 'member" she mumbled.

"Miss, we can't help you unless you help us. What is his name?"

Amelia looked away and cringed. Luckily, she'd never told Rubin where she lived and always met him in public locations, but she was terrified he'd find her if she talked. So Amelia kept her silence.

The cop sighed seeing her hesitation, "Listen, I know this is not the best time to be asking you, so I will leave my card with the nurses. If you change your mind and wish to press charges, you call me, all right?"

Amelia kept her eyes trained on the opposite wall and began counting the dots in the wall paper to keep from answering his question.

"I'll wait for your call, Miss Rice. No one should get away with this treatment. I'll be there when you're ready to talk."

She waited until the door clicked shut before she let her tears fall. She should have told him. She should have screamed Rubin's name so loud it rattled the walls. But she knew that would only bring him back. So she kept her own council and waited while her body healed enough for her to go home.

Co-workers from work had finally heard about her situation and flowers started arriving and a few female work friends stopped by see how she was doing. It was shallow really, because they weren't really there for her, only doing what was polite. She didn't talk much and endured their visits, but she did learn one thing -- Rubin had quit. He up and walked out the day after her disappearance and no one had seen him since. That should have given her peace, but all it did was make her watch over her shoulder that he could show up at any time.

A week flew by and she finally was released home. There was no one to pick her up and so she ended up calling that cop that left his card with the nurses and he gladly came to give her a ride.

"Ready to talk yet Miss Rice?"

She dipped her head to hide her eyes, "No, Officer Moore. I'm not."

"Just tell me this," he challenged at a stop light. His torso turned partially to her and he smiled, "Was it the 3 Checker Gang?"

"3 Checker?" She'd never heard that name before.

He studied her for a moment and surveyed her reaction for any false sincerity, finding nothing. "You'd know them if it were them. They party hard, have zero respect for women and enjoy all acts of torture. You'd be the first woman to get away from them alive, and if you are, I'd dearly love to get the fucking bastards. But I'd need your help."

The only woman to get out alive.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember much," she said meekly and looked away.

Officer Moore snorted, "I could protect you, you know. Place you in protective services. Make it so they could never touch you, Miss Rice."

"No, you couldn't. I'm sorry. I don't remember anything to help you."

He'd finally arrived at her place and helped her inside where he lingered for too long before he got the hint and left her alone. He pinned his card and his personal number to her wall and left with a worried glance. She was curled up on the couch and didn't even acknowledge him when he shut the door behind him.

+ + + +

An insistent tapping lulled her out of her memories. It was urgent and forceful and really, really annoying. When she rolled her head to the side of her bed towards the window, she saw that crow sitting on a branch watching her.

It was creepy but the thing really looked like it was trying to help her. When she smiled at it, showing the bird she was all right, it stopped pecking the glass and cawed loudly, watching her with that black beady eye.

"I'm back. Thank you."

It sounded again and hopped back and forth on the branch.

"You're freaking me out, crow. I know I'm broken, but you can't put me back together. You can't."

The crow screeched and suddenly flew off the branch and out of sight, "Finally," but the sound of the mail man jolted her for a moment. So that was what scared the bird off.

It had been three months since the attack and she just couldn't face work or any people at all, so she had taken a leave of absence and sequestered herself in her own home. She'd fended off worried calls from her childhood friends whom lived far away and drowned in her own misery.

Three months and her broken bones had healed, but her broken spirit had not. She was terrified of men and of strangers. After allowing Rubin in, she vowed never again. She'd learned what people were really made of and it was nothing pretty and nice. No, she's learned to distrust and fear their ugliness instead and chose to keep to herself.

But a strange black creature made her a friend today and at least the crow couldn't hurt her.

Once the mail man left, she checked that all was clear and then she collected her mail. In the box was a typical stack of bills and one crisp white envelope that looked like a thank you card.

"Weird," Amelia commented when she looked at the return address, A P.O. Box in the next town over. "Who is sending me card?"

When she ripped it open, her heart dropped. The bills she'd been holding dropped unnoticed to the ground as her eyes read and re-read the words scribbled on the thank you card enclosed.

Thanks for the ride, chickie. I made it in, so maybe, if you're good, we'll come back for round two!

Amelia's hand was shaking so hard that she nearly dropped the card. "Oh God, they know where I live!"

Above her head the crow called and she swore it sounded like leave so she ran back inside, and panicked. She spun in circles in her room, living room and kitchen trying to decide what to do. Her eyes kept drifting to picture she had in a fancy frame on her desk of her closet friends -- the ones who were always there for her. The only ones she trusted. They were safe. They would keep her safe.

Amelia knew what she had to do.

Packing only what she could fit in her car and leaving a note for the rest to be donated for her landlord, Amelia sat in the front seat of her car and took one last look at the home she'd made for herself and cried.

The crow was poised on the roof watching, and she waved good-bye and threw the car into reverse, it finally flew away.

* * * *

* * * *

Adam sat silently behind his computer, just staring at the screen, lost for words, drained and overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions at the same time.

She never reported them, those vile pitiful excuses of human beings got away with what they did to her. By the look of things they had gotten away with a lot more over time. The sole survivor, no wonder she didn't want to risk her life.

At least she came home to be with her friends. Now he knew everything he would make sure she'd be safe. Never again should his mate feel worried, scared, or anything like that. Never again. Then he cursed as he knew he had already failed her. She was attacked again, under his care. Mia's reasoning words still lingered in his mind and deep down he knew Mia was right.

Though that didn't mean he had to agree and think everything was just all right. It never should have happened and it would be a long time before he would accept there wasn't much he could have done.

Staring at the screen in front of him he tried to think of something to say, to let her know he understood, but he couldn't find the right words. All he wanted to do right now was rip apart those that had hurt her. Not just that "Rubin" person, but that whole gang.

Letting out a defeated sight, he closed the browser. He needed a bit more time before he would be able to post a descent reply. Right now it would only be one laced with anger and that is certainly not the emotion he wanted to portray towards Bronwille. Shutting down the computer, he then went to bed. His night was restless as her story plagued his mind.

Adam was glad it was morning so he could immerse himself in his daily routines of opening up the tavern and getting the breakfast routine underway.

By lunchtime his temper was leaning close toward being permanently annoyed at everything that went wrong. He never was this clumsy. He burned food, dropped pans with baked eggs and bacon. Making a mental note, he knew that this morning about half the meals were given away for free because of all of his fuck ups.

Realizing he couldn't keep this up he called in his evening chef and asked him to work a double shift, with extra pay. When the apparently "young" boy, who actually was one of the younglings in his pack, arrived, he patted him on the back, said a well meant "thank you" and disappeared up stairs.

After grabbing a beer he sat down on his couch and drained the bottle in one go. He shook his head to get rid of the bad vibe he had since he'd woken up.

This can't keep going on like this. I'm going slowly mad like this.

How can I get through to her?

What do I reply to her story?

Leaning back he rested his head on the backside of the couch, closing his eyes.

Bronwille, I wish you were here. I'd keep you close and safe. I'd make sure you'd never have to worry again. Never have to look back. Be free to go where you want.

He wanted her to have peace of mind, just as he had. All though he had to admit, reading her story had stirred his own demons. His life as a soldier had made it so he'd seen his fair share of misery, pain, and abuse. He had lost close ones in his unit. One face came forward, a face he'd never forget.

With a loud thud he put the empty bottle of beer on the coffee table before he started pacing in his living room. Almost half a century had passed since that time and he was convinced he had finally moved on. Reading her story and the emotions it provoked from his wolf and himself just brought everything back.

If he was honest with himself, he could understand why she chose to deal with things in this way. Also remembering Mia's words, he stopped pacing and went to his bedroom. Entering, he looked around to where he possibly could have left the notepad from the night before.

With some looking he found it half hidden under his bed. Not caring much about the crumpled papers he just kicked them all towards a corner, intent on picking them up later.

He kicked off his boots and loosened his shirt before sitting down against the headboard. Adam didn't care that his bed wasn't made up, another sign he wasn't up to par today, because normally he would always sort this out before leaving.

Closing his eyes he let his past come to the fore front, letting back in all those conflicting emotions. He was sure that would be the key to make a fitting reply to Bronwille's story. Right now he didn't care if the words made sense; he just wanted to write down his feelings. Adam was sure he could make it better once he had all the fragments in front of him, to help him solve this puzzle of his own soul.

Faces and events washed over him, he could feel himself being dragged back through centuries. The silence of the forest, the erupting of gunshots, the whimpering of the wounded, the sudden silence of fallen soldiers. Then there were the open, lifeless staring eyes of Simmons. They still haunted him. 'Cause I knew I was the cause of him being dead. I left cover and gave away our position.

Grabbing for the pencil Adam wrote down a few words:

Shadows of the past and what could have been

Dance in the obscurity of twilight's sin

The dam to his past was now open and everything came pouring down on him.

Sealed from the ethereal rays of hopes bright light

The very essence of life itself, smothered without a fight

The darkest night of the darkest day

Sun rise breaks but cannot chase the pain away

Agonizing cries split the darkened skies

As my tears fall like rain from reddened eyes

Looking at what he wrote, he couldn't believe those written words in front of him were his. Rereading them he knew they were still rough, but every word touched his soul.

The rest of the day he spend cooped up in his bedroom only coming out later that night to make himself dinner, after he got tired of listening to his grumbling stomach demanding food. Shoveling down his food he kept one eye the multiple pieces of paper that lay scattered across the table.

Each line he read resembled part of his past. Oddly enough he found many of them to resemble what he wanted to tell Bronwille. Maybe he could turn these words into something that could portray how he felt about what she's been through and at the same time confront his own demons. He liked the sound of that.

After clearing the dishes, he locked himself up in his bedroom again, intent on getting these words to work for him. It was long past midnight when he came back to boot up his computer. Adam stretched his arms wide, his muscles bulging and tensing under his skin.

Seeing the damn thing finally having started up, he sat down and opened her bio-page. Debating for a few minutes, he chose to send it to her privately. The poem was a bit close to home and he didn't feel too comfortable to have his comment/poem out there in the open for all to read.

###

To RedB From Atlas :

Hi RedB,

I have finished reading "Broken Bones". I have only commented on the first chapter and finished reading the rest just last night. You have no idea how emotional it was for me to read this. I could say I feel sorry for the girl. I am partly. However, I admire the strength and will power you gave her to get through this on her own.

Nobody should go through something like that, I felt like punching those guys into a pulp!