Page 24 of Shattered Trinket
“Jeremiah isn’t a good man, or… I guess that’s not entirely true,” I say, my brows furrowing. “He’s done bad things, but I don’t think he’s bad. Not really. He never tried to hide the truth of who he was or what he’d done from me, which made it easier to trust him, and knowing why made it easier to understand him. Anytime Victor left me in the cage, leaving for days at a time, Jeremiah was there. He made me feel at ease anytime he was around, something I hadn’t felt since Victor brought me home. And the more he visited me in secret—the more he opened up tome and treated me like a person—the more I anticipated the next time I’d see him. With him, there were never any expectations or…obligations. He was content with just being there with me, even if I didn’t talk back.”
I pause, unable to keep myself from smiling softly.
“Our secret visits became a bright spot for me, something I looked forward to. And when things would get really bad for me, I would escape into those memories where it was just me and him. Jeremiah wanted to save me, something he told me often. He tried anytime Victor was gone, and every time he failed, I could tell how frustrated he was. Not only was the lock on the cage impossible to pick, but Victor always secured it with another that needed his fingerprint when he knew he’d be gone for longer than a few hours. He might not have known that Jeremiah was sneaking in anytime he was gone, but he was paranoid enough to make sure I knew there was no way I was getting out until he came back.”
I shudder as I think about the cage, hating how the thought of it still sends a bolt of fear straight through my heart.
“I didn’t know why I felt so drawn to Jeremiah, if it was because he was so nice to me and I’d somehow latched onto him because of all the trauma, or what. I just knew that everything felt right whenever he was near. I could envision myself free again, with him by my side, holding my hand every step of the way,” I say, finally looking up at Ripley.
She’s giving nothing away as she sits there patiently waiting for me to finish, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not. I can’t help but cringe when I continue, wishing I didn’t have to remind her that Jeremiah almost played a huge part in her abduction.
“By the time Victor tasked Jeremiah with getting you for him, he’d been sneaking in to see me for I don’t even know how long, taking whatever jobs Victor gave him. I was so upset that heagreed. When I asked him why when he knew their fate would look just like mine, if not worse, his reasoning was that if Victor got what he wanted, then maybe he stood a chance at finally freeing me. In his mind, my freedom meant more to him than anything, even at the expense of another. But the second time he saw you, you were with River. Victor had left earlier that same day, and when Jeremiah snuck in that night, he’d been… distraught. He couldn’t stop apologizing to me, telling me that for the first time in his life, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do the job he was given.”
I tell her what happened when Jeremiah told Victor he wouldn’t do it. How Victor held a gun to his head after he told him he was taking me with him, and the debilitating terror I’d felt as I watched him stare down the barrel of that gun. How I’d known in my heart he planned to risk that bullet while taking Victor down with him, and how I’d stared up at him with pleading eyes to get out and not die because I somehow knew his death would be something I’d never truly recover from.
“I knew he didn’t want to, but I also knew by then that he’d do anything I asked of him, even if he didn’t like it. So, he escaped—just barely—and the minute he was out of sight, Victor put a price on his head. But I knew how good he was at disappearing, at not being found unless he wanted to be. He didn’t earn the name ofThe Ghostfor no reason,” I mumble. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since you saved me, even though I know it’s wrong. Wrong to miss him after everything he’s done and almost did. But my heart… It won’t let him go,” I finish telling her, my last words ending in a whisper as I clutch my chest and look into her eyes, hoping she’ll understand.
Ripley doesn’t say anything immediately, and I can practically see the wheels turning inside her head as she works out what to say to my confession. The anxiety is overwhelming, a pit opening in my stomach, threatening to swallow me whole as I wait for herto say something. Eventually, she grabs my trembling hand and holds it tight in hers, taking a deep breath before speaking.
“Well… I can’t say I expected that, but I’m not angry. How can I be when—” she trails off, frowning as she stares at me.
“Cozy… Do you understand why you felt safe with him? Why you can’t stop thinking about him? Like, truly understand?” she whispers, her hazel eyes shining with unshed tears.
“I… Yes, I think so.”
“Tell me,” she encourages, giving me a wobbly smile.
I try to swallow around the lump in my throat, afraid to say it out loud.
“Because he’s… He feels like home. He feels like…mine,” I choke out, the tears that had been precariously hanging on my lashes falling and gliding down my cheeks before I wipe them away.
Ripley nods, smiling gently as she squeezes my hand.
“That’s it. And do you know why he feels like yours?”
This time I shake my head because I don’t. I don’t completely understand why I know he’s mine, just that I do.
“It’s all about our instincts. Like the warnings we get when we’re in danger, or the feelings we get when our nests don’t feel right, for example. When we find the perfect match for ourselves—ascent match—our omega instinctsknow,even if we don’t. I knew when I caught Kian and Syn’s scents, River’s intertwined with theirs, that they were mine. It was a feeling deep in my gut, but also in my heart.”
I frown, trying to understand what she’s saying.
“So, Jeremiah is… He’s my scent match?” I ask, unsure.
“It would seem so. Though, personally, if I remember correctly, his scent is downright harsh, so I can’t understand what you like about it,” she says with a grimace, and I cover my lips as I laugh because she’s not wrong.
Jeremiah’s gunpowder and wild jasmine scent isn’t one I’d imagine most would find appealing. But to me, it is, if only because it’s honest. To me, it smells like truth and a little bit like my old life.
“It is pretty harsh, but… okay, this might sound crazy, but his scent is true. It’s not deceiving, like Victor’s was. It’s just… Jeremiah.”
I shrug, sure that won’t make any sense to her, but it feels right to me. Ripley nods, contemplative, as she mulls over my words.
“That makes sense, in a way,” she says with a sigh. “You thought I’d hate you for this because of what he almost did?”
I nod, wincing, and she rolls her eyes.
“Gods. Cozy, we can’t control a scent match. I can even understand his reasoning for almost taking me and scaring the shit out of me the two times I saw him. Even if I don’t like it. There’s nothing an alpha won’t do for his omega, scent match or otherwise. Hell, I’m not even an alpha and I know if I was in his position and one of my mates in yours, I’d do some sketchy shit to save them,” she sighs. “It sounds like he couldn’t think about anything but you and getting you out of the situation you were in, no matter the cost. That’s pretty amazing, honestly.”
And suddenly, I can’t remember why I was so scared to tell her about the alpha that’s promised to find all my broken pieces and put them back where they belong.