Breaking the Beast: A Reverse Harem Fairy Tale Romance (Seven Ways to Sin Book 5) by Nicole Casey

Author:Nicole Casey [Casey, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-04T18:30:00+00:00

19

Isabel

The days passed, and I fell into a comfortable routine. In the mornings, Jacques and I would breakfast together in companionable silence. I learned quickly that he was not a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, and any attempt to draw him into conversation before he was sufficiently caffeinated would be met by noncommittal grunts.

After breakfast, we would retire to the patio, if it was nice, or the drawing room, if it was cold or rainy, and continue our interview. Jacques was reticent, at first, but as the days went on, he opened up more and more.

“I’d like to hear about the first time you found wrestling,” I said one morning.

Jacques hesitated, and I waited in silence. I’d learned that he didn’t like to be prompted, and if I waited long enough, I usually got an answer in the end.

“I’ve already told you that I was 15 when I began,” he said eventually. “One afternoon after school, I was on my own. Bernard had had to stay after, for whatever reason. I didn’t want to go home just yet. My aunt had been drinking quite a bit in those days, and I knew better than to get in her way. I figured I would lay low for a few hours and head home in the evening and hope that she had already passed out.”

I nodded, saying nothing. My heart ached for the scared, lonely boy Jacques had once been, but I knew he didn’t want my sympathy. It would only make him uncomfortable.

“I had learned over the years where I was likely to be left alone. I skulked through alleys and behind shops. If the shopkeepers noticed me, they never kicked me out. Perhaps they realized I needed a place to be alone. At the time, I just thought I was exceptionally stealthy.” At this, a rare smile broke through, but was gone in an instant.

“This one afternoon, though, they found me. Some of the older boys. They surrounded me, taunting me about my old clothes, my dirty hair, the fact that I didn’t have a mother.” Jacques’ hands clenched in his lap. I had given him a stress ball to keep his hands busy during our conversations, and he clutched it so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I took a swing at one of them, I couldn’t help it. I missed, of course. I was just a scrawny thing back then. But the other boys took it as an invitation, and they fell on me. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, and they were kicking me. They might have killed me, if they were given the chance. They were in a frenzy. I curled up on myself, bleeding and crying.”

Jacques’ breathing was coming in short gasps now, and he looked shockingly pale. His pleading eyes met mine. If we didn’t nip this in the bud quickly, he was about to have a full-blown panic attack. I leaned forward, careful not to touch him.

“Jacques,” I said.

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