Shattered Promises 02 - Fractured Souls Jessica Sorensen (top 10 novels of all time TXT) 📖

over the deck, and storms inside the house, slamming the door behind him. The glass shatters and scatters all over the cracks in the deck.

I start to get up, but then sit back down, not wanting to leave my mom alone just yet.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures me, motioning at me to go after him. “Now go check on him.”

“Are you sure?” I ask hesitantly.

She nods, cracking a smile. “Gemma, I’ve been surrounded by screams and torture for the last fourteen years. I’d love a little break from the noise and drama. Maybe just a few minutes of peace and quiet.”

I nod and leave her alone on the deck, wondering what I’m leaving behind and what I’m about to walk into.

As well as whether or not I can handle any of it.

Chapter 32

I find Alex out on the front steps, the porch light shining down on his back. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk out the door, but I know that he knows I’m behind him, thanks to the electricity. The connection feels different now that I know why it’s there. It’s almost painful, the sparks now feeling more like prickly needles, yet somehow it still feels so damn good.

The salty sea air kisses my cheeks and my hair as I shut the screen door. I sit down on the cement step beside Alex, pull my legs up, and rest my arms on my knees. He rolls his tongue in his mouth as he taps his foot against the step with his arms on his knees. His hair is disheveled, a sign that he’s been raking his fingers through it, a stressful habit of his.

“How are you feeling?” I ask and then shake my head at the absurdity of my ridiculous question. “Sorry, dumb question.”

His expression softens, his muscles slightly unraveling. “No, it’s not a dumb question. I just…” He blows out a breath. “I don’t know how to answer it because I don’t know how I feel. I really don’t.” He kicks a rock on the step and it shoots across the grass. “I feel like I don’t know anything anymore—I never really knew anything.”

“It’s insane, isn’t it?” I say. “How all of us fit into this—how we were all created.”

“Gemma.” His voice holds uncertainty as he angles his face toward me, staring at me remorsefully. “I’m sorry for everything. I really am.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, shrugging it off the best that I can. “It’s not your fault. Besides,” I stare down at my hands. “I think we’re past needing to say we’re sorry.”

He turns to the side to face me, takes my hands, and pulls them to him. “No, we’re not,” he says in a low, meaningful tone and I look up at him. “I think you’re letting me off a little because of the electricity—or the star anyway.”

“It’s fine,” I repeat, thinking about how he was beaten by his father. I may have been abused by neglect and demeaning words, but Alex had been physically abused. “I’m not the only one who’s suffered.” I pause as he grazes the scar on my palm. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” There’s an edge in his voice.

“What does Forem mean?”

He sighs heavy heartedly and looks up from my hand. “I had a feeling you were going to ask that.” He pauses, deliberating as he searches my eyes. “You remember how Nicholas told you about the Blood Promise the Fey made to Malefiscus?” he asks, sketching his finger along the scar on my palm.

I nod, shivering from his touch as my skin tingles. “Yeah, I remember, though he never did explain to me what it was.”

He slips his hand over mine, presses our palms together and his hand nearly swallows mine. “Remember in the vision how I cut our hands?”

It clicks like a lock unlatching. “Did we make a Blood Promise?”

He nods. “We did.”

Forem. “What kind of promise exactly?”

“Forem or...” His exhale is shaky, conveying his insecurity. “Forever.”

I’m a little lost still. “So Forem means Forever, but I still don’t get what exactly a Blood Promises is.”

“It’s an unbreakable promise,” he says quietly. “And it means we’re bonded together… forever.”

Forever. Forever. What the hell? How is that even possible? We were…were so…

“But we were so young,” I finally manage to say through my racing thoughts and heart. “Why the hell would we do that?”

He closes his hand around mine, brings my hand to his mouth, and grazes my knuckles with his lips. “Because we were really weird kids,” he states amusedly. “And honestly, I didn’t really know what I was getting into when I did it. I think I said it more as a lets-be-best friends-forever kind of thing.”

I explore his face for what’s hidden inside him. Did he mean what he said in The Underworld? Does he really love me? “And what does it mean now to you?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he says, staring out at the road.

“Me, neither,” I utter softly and then the silence drowns us.

I want to ask him so many things. Like what he’s thinking and feeling. Does he think it’s the electricity that’s pulling us toward each other? Does he really love me?

In the end I keep my lips sealed because I’m afraid to find out the truth. Then I’ll have to admit what I’m really feeling and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

“Gemma, I…” he starts, struggling to keep his voice balanced.

I can tell by the way that he looks that he’s either going to crush my heart or send me running, so I cut him off, rapidly leaning in and silencing him with my lips.

I gasp from the spark of our lips and then moan at the warmth of his tongue as he urges my lips open and kisses me ardently. I readily liquefy into the kisses, opening up and letting him completely in. He meticulously explores every inch of my mouth as he grips at my waist, his hands just under the hem of my