Аманда Хокинг - Fate

“Is he there?” Jack’s tone had a bite to it now, and I heard Ezra say something to calm him in the background.

“Yeah, he is, but I’m okay.” Then I rather stupidly lowered my voice and added, “He knows.”

“Well, of course, I know!” Peter rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Is that Peter?” Jack got louder and angrier, and I couldn’t imagine a meeting between them going well.

“Is Jack on his way?” Peter asked, loud enough so Jack could hear me.

“I am on my way, and tell him he better watch his ass!” Jack shouted, and I held the phone away from ear so it wouldn’t damage my eardrums.

“Real mature, Jack,” Peter scoffed.

“Why is he even there? Tell him to just go away!” Jack suggested, and I could hear Ezra telling Jack to shut up and calm down or he was turning the car around.

“You know it’s not really fun for me to have the two you talking through me,” I pointed out dryly.

“I have every right to be here!” Peter insisted fiercely. “This is my house too! This is more my family than it is his! I don’t know why Jack thinks he can just claim everything!”

“Jack, I don’t know that you need to come here,” I said softly. It would be much, much safer if they didn’t interact, and we all knew that. “I think we can handle it ourselves.”

“No way. This is getting dealt with, once and for all,” Jack told me firmly. “I’ll be there soon. Just stay safe.”

“I’ll try.”

I hung up the phone and started at the kitchen floor for a minute, trying to collect my thoughts.

Jack was on his way, which definitely couldn’t be a good thing. They were acting like children in a pissing contest, and I had no idea how to resolve the situation without violence. If Jack and Peter saw each other…

“Peter, maybe you should just go,” Mae offered gently, and it was clear she was thinking the same thing I was.

“I know that you’re not happy to see me, but that’s not fair.” Peter was genuinely hurt by her reaction, and Mae’s eyes filled with soft tears. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Peter, you know that’s not exactly true,” Mae chastised him quietly. She kept her gaze on him, but nodded her head slightly to me, referencing the instance in which Peter nearly killed me.

“Look, I am not proud of that and I’m not trying to justify it, but if…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Jack overstepped his bounds on every measure of this, yet you’re all continually on his side! She was meant for me, not him! And it shouldn’t have mattered to any of you if she had died!”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and I felt his eyes land apologetically on me.

“Alice, that’s not what I meant.” He made a move towards me, then dropped his hand.

“We’re not on anyone’s side,” Mae insisted, and she rested a hand on Milo’s arm, trying to keep him steady. Hearing Peter so casually talk about my death had left him fuming. “Things are far more complicated than sides, and you know that.”

“But Jack is wrong!” Peter slammed his hand on the counter, and we all jumped. “What gives him the right?”

“He loves me, Peter,” I told him timidly.

He turned towards me, his eyes burning on me, and I felt myself try to shrink away. Milo hissed and Mae stepped forward, trying to block Milo from Peter. She knew, just as I did, that Peter had no intention of hurting me ever again. He was hurt, definitely, and vehement about something, but I didn’t know what.

“And you think I don’t?” Peter moved so quickly, I almost didn’t see it happen. His face was directly in front of me, and I was backed up against the wall, but he wasn’t touching me at all. Milo was freaking out because of his sudden movement, and Mae was trying to push him into the other room so he could get a reign on his emotions.

“They’re fine! He’s just talking to her!” Mae kept insisting.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her finally wrangle Milo into another room, but all I could really see were Peter’s green eyes. He always looked at me is if he was trying to completely look through me and solve the great mystery of me. There wasn’t one, though, and that left his eyes constantly searching Irrational tears were welling in my eyes, and I had to fight to remember to breathe. He had placed a hand on either side of me, and lowered his face so it was directly in front of mine. All I could smell and see and feel was him. It was suffocating, and I didn’t know how to fight it. The horrible truth was that I didn’t even really want to fight it. My body kept screaming that this was exactly what it needed, that this was how I was meant to feel. Always.

“How am I supposed to know you feel about me?” I whispered hoarsely. “You were always pushing me away or running away. You’ve spent hardly a minute with me. All I know about you is that you’re simultaneously repulsed and enraptured by me. That’s not exactly the basis for love, is it?”

“I’m sorry.” For the first time, Peter’s voice registered a strong emotion, and not just restraint trying to mask something. He was pained more deeply than I imagined he would be, but he went on, unabashed. “I have not been honest with you. There are a million excuses for the way that I’ve treated you, but none of them absolve me.”

He exhaled deeply, his breath warming my neck. He was hungry in a familiar way, one that I stupidly welcomed. Peter wanted me in the way only he could want me, the way flowers craved sunlight. Our bodies claimed that I was the means to his survival, in more ways than one, and Peter was just finally starting to give into it.

“Does it really matter anymore?” Peter continued huskily, and when he lowered his gaze to my throat, his eyelashes fell darkly on his cheeks. “It doesn’t really matter how much I love you, does it?” He moved in closer to me, breathing me in, and he sighed reproachfully. “You smell like him.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, but I wasn’t.

Maybe a little bit of me was, but the rest of me felt oddly proud that I smelled like Jack. As if he had marked me as his, and that finally, maybe even my blood belonged to him. Deep down, I had always known it was meant to, and I think that even Peter had to, which is why he had always rejected me so harshly.

“He’s inside you now.” Gingerly, Peter brushed my hair back and ran his fingers threw it, letting his fingertips graze my cheek and send surges of pleasure over me. His eyes had returned to mine, but they were duller and sadder than I had ever seen them before. “I’ve already lost, haven’t I?”

Before I could answer, his lips pressed softly against me. Emotions swirled through me too rapidly for me to name, but I found myself kissing him back. When he had kissed me before, they had been harsh and rough, but this time, it was gentle and a little sad. I think he realized this was going to be the last time that he kissed me, and he didn’t want to waste a moment of it.

When I heard the low growl coming from across the room, I awoke in the moment, with my arms wrapped around Peter’s neck and my fingers buried in his hair. His strong arms had me pressed me hard against the contours of his body, and there was little room for breathing. But as soon as I heard the growl, my heart froze, and I pulled my mouth away from Peter’s because I knew exactly who that growl belonged to.

Peter almost tossed me to the side, but that was merely for my own protection. Jack came flying across the room in such a blur I wouldn’t have known it was him if I hadn’t already known it was him. He slammed into Peter, and together, they landed on top of the dining room table and crushed it beneath them. They were gnashing teeth and hitting at each other, and suddenly, Jack was soaring through the glass windows of the French doors. Peter was on his feet, preparing to follow after him, but Jack was already up, brushing away broken glass.