A Protector's Second Chance (Unit Matched #2) (2 page)

Chapter 3

Day 3 of 90

I was right about the snow. By the time I woke up the next day, there was at least six inches on the ground. I sat in the reading nook all day and most of the evening, watching more snow fall. Oliver came in, carrying a tray of food.

“Look at you, up again,” he said happily.

I rolled my eyes at him.

He placed the tray on the dresser and came over to me. He sat on the edge of the window seat, and I moved closer to the window.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

I didn’t even look at him. I stared at the large white snowflakes falling outside.

“Okay, so,” he trailed off, and sighed deeply. “You know, when I was younger, my parents loved bringing me and my brother up here.”

I pulled my legs closer to my chest, trying to fight the pain of the still tender bruise on my thigh.

“Oscar and I would run out, and build snowmen all the time, even if it was still snowing.”

I remained quiet. My sister and I never really played in the snow together. We weren’t close at all. Xaviera and Gia were my sisters. I missed them.

“So,” Oliver clapped his hands. “Why don’t you and I have a movie night? Ladies choice.”

I didn’t answer.

“Could at least say one word to me?”

I kept my eyes fixed outside.

“Amaya,” Oliver’s face was low, and he touched my hand.

I whipped my head at him, jerked my hand away, and narrowed my eyes.

“Well,” Oliver cleared his throat. “I made some fried chicken and mashed potatoes. It’s actually my mother’s recipe. She told me and Oscar that we needed to learn how to cook because some Unit girls didn’t belong near a stove.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that appeared. I had always loved Mrs. Thomas’ cooking. She had been paired as my mom’s controller and was always bringing something by for us to eat. My mom couldn’t cook at all.

“Is that?” he paused, pointing at my face. “That’s a smile.” He sounded proud of himself.

I wiped the expression away and went back out to staring at the window.

“Well, I’m going to see if there’s anything new on Netflix. You’re more than welcome to join me.”

Oliver sat there, waiting for me to answer, but I never uttered a word. He finally gave up and left.

Chapter 4

Day 5 of 90

I woke up in the afternoon to another tray of food sitting on the dresser. This time there was a note.

Had to go to Unit for meetings. Be back in a couple days.

Oliver

He’d left?

I was alone.

I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

I quickly jumped into the shower then took my tray of food downstairs. I sat down on the couch, turning on the TV. I needed to catch up on the latest celebrity gossip.

Since I was without a phone and my laptop, and, since I have been ordered not to speak to anyone in Unit, I felt left out.

I inhaled the food. Oliver definitely cooked like his mom. I watched
E! News
, flipped through some reality TV, and then settled on a
Lifetime
movie.

Of course, it was about a drunken abusive father. Yep, I sure could pick ’em. For some reason, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. It almost felt like it was my life on the plasma screen.

I finally shut off the TV because I couldn’t take anymore. I swiped the wetness from my cheeks, glad that no one was around to call me ‘weak’.

I picked up my dishes, took them to the kitchen, and cleaned everything up. As I dried my hands, I inspected the pictures on the fridge. Some were Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, and I noticed how much Oliver looked like his mom. He had her bright green eyes and smile. Oscar, his younger brother, was their father’s exact replica.

Every picture held a happy smile and a loving family. I wondered what I looked like in a family photo, although we didn’t have too many of those. The picture I stared at the longest was all four of the Thomas’s at a fancy dinner. Mr. Thomas was a famous attorney in the city and did a lot of work in Unit. Mrs. Thomas worked at the school library. When we were kids, she’d always had a bright smile on her face when we walked in.

I stepped away from the pictures and closed my eyes. The first memory that washed over me was one of my worst.

I was six and starting my training. As Protector to the Royal bloodline, my duties started when I was young. After my session was over, and Mom and Dad were sure no one was coming over, they would start drinking.

Dad started on me first. He would drag me out of bed in the middle of the night and ‘train’. He would scream how worthless I was, because I could barely punch the large, fake dummy hard enough to move it. Mom would point and laugh at me in her drunken stupor, imitating Dad’s words to me.

I opened my eyes as the words spun around in my head.

Chapter 5

Day 7 of 90

I was sitting at the kitchen table when the front door opened and Oliver appeared. He had on a thick winter coat and scarf reminiscent of the snowflakes that were all over him. His arms were full of groceries.

“Hey,” he smiled brightly at me. “I see you left the bedroom, finally.” He sat all the bags down, went back outside, and brought in two more large boxes. Oliver shut the door tightly and shook off his jacket.

Long ago, Xaviera described Oliver as a male model. She was right. He was tall, built, with shaggy brown hair that was shiny when the light hit it. However, his green eyes were his best feature. They were a deep green but when he was mad, they would change. They would almost shimmer.

He got mad at me one time, when we all went to New York City. It actually turned me on because the Oliver I thought I knew was quiet and shy. He had never been a big talker in school, at least from what I could tell. Unit girls and boys were separated from each other. The few times he had come to our house, or at family parties, he stood next to Thaddeus, and looked uncomfortable.

I watched him unpack the groceries. He had bought a little bit of everything.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I sort of guessed.” He began putting everything away.

When he was finished, he turned to me, and smiled. Of course, I glared at him. His expression faded and he stared back.

“I got you a present.” He didn’t sound as cheerful as he had been when he’d walked in.

Oliver walked over to the last bag on the table. It rustled as he pulled out five composition notebooks and several packs of pen.

“I figured you would need these to survive,” he half joked with me.

There was a lump in my throat. How had he known? He might have seen my notebook, but how had he known that I needed them so badly. It was sweet that he’d thought of me.

Oliver pushed the pile in front of me. I didn’t speak. I didn’t even say ‘thank you’. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t, I was in shock; I couldn’t. Besides Xaviera and Gia, no one had ever willingly given me a gift.

My thoughts broke when he slammed the pot down on the stove. He banged and clanged around the kitchen.

“You know,” he spun around and tried to pin me with his eyes. I knew instantly he was mad. I could see the shimmer. “I know that we are both here for different reasons, but I thought you would at least talk to me.”

I stared back.

“This is how it’s going to be?”

My mouth remained shut.

“Amaya?”

Silence.

“Seriously.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “You know, I want this to work. Do you understand that? I want my Matched to like me, talk to me, and let
us
be in a relationship together.”

I stared at him.

“Forget it,” he threw his hands up. “If you want to spend the next three months this way, then,” he stopped.

We continued to stare at each other, not saying anything. Oliver was the first to move. He shook his head and walked out of the kitchen.

I picked at the corner of one of the composition book and looked at the pens. They were an assortment of colors. Normally, I loved getting new pens, but I didn’t this time.

I gathered everything up and went back to my room. I curled up in the nook and opened my new writing utensils.

Day 7

I guess my parents didn’t lie to me when they called me selfish and spiteful. Dad always said I would be bad Protector because I needed to put Xaviera first.

I guess he was right because here I am, Oliver is trying to be nice, and I don’t care.

Yep, selfish and spiteful.

Chapter 6

Day 10 of 90

It has been three days, and I hadn’t left my room. Oliver brought me food but he just slammed it down and left.

Mother Nature must have had a bigger plan for me, because if I had been her, I would have whipped up a tornado and shipped my butt to another planet.

It was late in the afternoon and I was re-reading my late night ramblings I had sprawled out on the white paper. I felt bad for Oliver. He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet he had been punished, too. That wasn’t fair to him. No matter what had happened to me, Oliver was a decent guy.

I knew in my heart I should apologize for everything; I knew I needed to make it up to in some way. The question was what, when, and how.

When I went downstairs, the living room had been changed around. Oliver had added a long table on the far side of the wall. There were three computer screens on it, and he was sitting on a bench. He was typing on the keyboard, and I watched him for a moment.

Oliver was very good looking; I wasn’t blind to that fact. His dark brown hair was shaggy and was always messy, and it seemed like he did it on purpose. Oliver’s jaw was strong, and there was a small dimple at the edge of his chin.

“I’m going to make dinner.” I announced to him.

He didn’t even look at me when he said, “that’s fine.”

I deserved that, and I knew it. I turned on my heels and went into the kitchen. I opened the fridge and stared at all the contents. I wasn’t sure what to make. I settled on hamburger when I saw the stove had a built-in grill.

“Are you allergic to anything?” I shouted my question to him.

“No,” he yelled back.

I pulled out everything I needed, washed my hands, and got to work. I hadn’t cooked in a long time. It was my sister, Rebecca, who did that at our house. My parents always said my food sucked, although Xaviera and Gia never complained about it.

I heard Oliver walk into the kitchen as I was finishing up.

“It smells delicious.”

“Thanks.” I placed several sweet potato fries on his plate and then on mine.

“Do you need any help?”

“If you want to grab something to drink, that’ll help.”

He nodded and walked around me.

“How about milk?” he suggested.

“No.”

“Soda?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” I could hear the frustration in his voice.

“Water’s fine.”

I finished plating our hamburgers and set everything on the table. Oliver fixed our glasses and sat down at the head of the table.

“Wow, this looks good.”

“Thanks.” I took a bite of the burger.

We ate in silence, but a million things ran through my head. I needed to get it off my chest before I exploded.

“Oliver.” I cleared my throat. “I wanted to let you know that I appreciate the last ten days.”

He looked at me confused.

“Is that your way of an apology?”

“Look,” I snapped. “You have no clue what this is like for me.”

“No, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not on your side.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re my Matched. We’re meant to be together through thick and think. I’m always going to be there for you, Amaya.”

“Please,” I sneered at him.

“Look,” he raised his voice at me. “Don’t act like I’m the enemy here. I’m trying to, at least, make this work out.”

“And after three months of being stuck in this cabin, then what? What if I’m banished? You get to go off and be Matched to someone new while I’m out on my ass.” I shouted at him.

“That’s not my fault. You broke the Rules.” He slapped his hand on the table.

“Well, I’m being held prisoner.” I jumped up from my chair, knocking it over.

“That doesn’t mean you have you have to be a bitch,” he yelled back at me, and then quickly dropped his head.

“I guess that’s my motto: I’m just a bitch.”

He looked up at me, and I could see the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Forget it.” I waved my hand at him. “I guess I’ve always known what people thought of me.” I headed toward the stairs.

It was the truth. Every citizen of Unit was always staring at me. I was louder than most, always spoke my mind, and didn’t care what others thought about me.

“Stop.” Oliver grabbed my shoulder, and I winced in pain. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, rolling my shoulder.

“Here, let me see.”

“No,” I moved away as he reached for me. “I hurt myself training before I left. I’m fine,” I lied. There was no way I would tell him the truth.

Oliver studied my face; he knew I was making it up.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

I spun on my heels and headed back to my room.