His Broken Princess

Chapter Five

Everyone has their own language, it just depends on you if you want to learn it to understand them.~ A.Gupta

Cole

One week later...

I slid into the chair at the back of the room, my eyes fixed on the back of her head where she sat in the front row.

Mrs Pamela was writing something on the board. She was a married woman in her late thirties. She was the only female available who taught sign language to an afternoon batch. Every other batch was taken by a male teacher, either in his late forties or someone in their early twenties. Both options weren't what I wanted for it, not just because of my preference, but I knew that she wouldn't be comfortable. It had taken Dominic’s charming smiles and his last name to talk her into starting her next class from the very beginning so Violet could learn everything without missing it.

In the last week since she had joined, Mad and Alex both had come with her at least once. Yesterday, Dominic was here too as he didn't want to be left out and I’m starting to think he really has abandonment issues that he jokes about on a regular basis. I thought to myself, for his sake, that Kiara never leaves him. Or there will be hell to pay.

But now, finally today, I was the one who drove her to her class and was now sitting here at the back keeping an eye on her. Just to keep her safe. Or maybe just to keep her in front of my eyes. I won't admit it aloud, but the three times that the brothers had decided to drive her to her class I had wanted to punch them in the face. And today I was ready to do so, god f*****g knows why, but thankfully today everyone was busy so it left me.

And, I didn't mind.

Abso-fuckng-lutely not.

I wouldn't mind even if I was the only one to do so from now on. Each and every day I was ready to be her designated driver, if it had her sitting beside me, allowing me to look at her, for the thirty minutes that it took to take her to and from the class. I didn't know why. I didn't have a f*****g answer for it. It was unreasonable, I knew it. But I didn't want to stop. Even when I tried to, I couldn't pull my gaze away from her. It was so fûcking fascinating to watch her. Everything that happens around her, she looks at that like a baby bird out of an eggshell. But her wings aren’t formed yet. And I bet it would be a beautiful sight to finally watch her fly.

Her face tilted to the side, giving me her profile. At first I thought she was looking back at me, she had been doing so for every five minutes as if making sure I hadn't left. I would never. But then I realized that she wasn’t looking back at me but she was gazing back at the guy next to her.

My brows furrowed and I came forward in my seat. He signed something and I watched as a trembling smile flitted across her lips. It was just there for a half second and then gone. If I hadn’t been watching her like an obsessive freak I wouldn't have noticed it. She signed back for the boy. I knew that sign. I was learning with her. She just said thank you to him. Why?

Jaw tight, I sat back. I missed most of what the teacher taught the class but even as I wanted to, I couldn't pay attention to her. My mind was still stuck on her trembling smile. She said thank you. Did that fucker compliment her? With each minute I sat there, waiting for the class to get over my blood boiled. Even more so as the boy kept glancing at her.

The anger wasn’t just because of what just happened in the class, but I was starting to feel jealous. I felt like she was intentionally doing it to me. Singling me out. She gave her first word to Mrs Carter. She even hugged her. I didn't envy that. No. I did not. And maybe if I kept saying that I’d believe that.

But this.... This was unacceptable.

She gave him a smile. This fcking toad deserved his smile, but I don’t? What the fûck! Someone she didn't even know. A stranger.

I don't know for how long I sat there seething and contemplating if I should knock out this little toad. But soon the class ended and everyone started to stand up. Most of them were children and with them their siblings. Only a few of them were adults. The drag of chairs, the snapping of bags and the general chatter brought my attention to the present and I looked at her. She was standing now, her eyes on me and her fingers tight on her notebook.

She jumped when the boy from earlier touched her arm. My blood boiled and without thinking, I strode across the room and when I was just a foot away I said in a cold voice that broke no argument, “Back off.” The boy startled and immediately took a step back before he turned to face me. His eyes widened as he signed something. I ignored him and his fluttering hands as I loomed over him and gritted out, “Try to talk to her again, I will snap your fingers and break your arms.”

With a gulp he pulled up his bag and ran away. I watched him until he was out of the room and out of sight. And then I finally turned to face her only to be surprised to find those blue eyes staring at me, no, they were actually glaring at me as she thinned her lips as if in disapproval.

I didn't like it. Without thinking I said, “I thought you hated attention and didn't want to interact with opposite sex.”

For a moment she just stared at me. And then she flipped open her notebook, clicked the pen and started writing. I frowned at her and watched her hand. It didn't shake like it had the first time she had been told to take notes by the teacher. I had seen the embarrassed look that had crossed her face and the uncertainty in her gaze. In that moment I had read her, she was scared that somehow in her captivity she had forgotten to write. I hated that look.

Her hands were shaking so terribly that she wasn’t able to write a single letter. I had taken notice but the problem was everyone had taken notice and a few of them had the fcking audacity to snicker, until I had stood beside her chair and glared at them all. Daring them with my cold gaze to let another sound escape their mouth so I would have a reason to tear their neatly handwritten notes and stuff those papers in their fcking mouths. In a moment of going against my better judgment, I had bent down and whispered for her ears only, “Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.” I had straightened, looked at the teacher and had declared, “You won't erase it until she has written every word. And she won't stand up until she has written every word.”

And now as I looked at her writing firmly in her notebook I was pleased to see that her writing was coming out better each day and she wasn’t hesitant about it like before. But I didn't like what she wrote. ‘He was just a kid!!” And I also hated how she underlined the kid three times, like I was one.

I glared at her and took the notebook from her, picked up her bag, stuffed the notebook inside and said, “Let’s go.”

I was almost to the door when small fingers clutched the fabric of my shirt and pulled back. It was like a child was trying to get an adult’s attention. I turned slowly, my heart beating a strange rhythm against my ribcage. When I looked at her, I was stunned to see how beautiful she was. Her blue eyes were wide like she couldn’t believe she had done this. Her cheeks were flushed, two splotches of red on her pale complexion. And the way she was standing, the receding sunlight was glimmering behind her from the window, making her snow like hair look like a mixture of pink and orange.

It took me a moment to speak and that too came out a soft whisper, all of my anger drained away. “What?”

She blinked and it took her a while to respond and she did it by snatching her bag from me and then, I knew it for a fact, she intentionally slammed her shoulder in my arm as she exited.

Stunned, I trailed after her. For some reason I felt like a scolded child and a lost puppy who was trailing after her. When we were outside, she made her way to the car. She didn't even bother to look back if I was following her as she stood on the passenger side and waited. Today, she was wearing blue denim jeans with white shirt and white sneakers. The sneakers were a gift from Maddox. And I knew that she loved it.

I hated my best friend for it. That he managed to give her something that she appreciated. I wanted to be the one to do something like that. I knew it was stupid. But what was more stupid was that I was the one spending every moment of my day thinking about her or looking at her and still I missed these small details that I could do for her which would make her happy. And then, maybe, she would give me the small collection of smiles she reserved inside her.

In the last week since this class had started, there had come a few little differences in her. She had accepted it. She had accepted the Carters as her family. I didn't have any doubt about it when I saw her talking to Mrs Carter. I knew that if anyone could understand her and make her stay and make her strong it would be Mrs Carter. And not to miss, Bree and Kiara. Both those girls knew how to make someone feel like they belonged.

And with each day that passed, Violet has started to belong to the Carters. She had become more like a family member than the girl who was rescued. She even smiled at Mr Carter the other day.

I unlocked the car but before I could, she opened the door and slid inside. With a sigh, I rounded the car and sat down in the driver’s seat.

We drove in silence and I watched as she looked out the window. After several minutes, she started to open her bag. I looked at her when I realized that she was writing something. When she was done, she held the notebook to me. I arched my brow and asked, “You want ice cream?”

She shook her head and then wrote something else. Instead of looking down at the notebook, I said, “I know you can speak. Why won't you do it?”

The change was so swift it shocked me. The way she cloaked herself away from me. Even as she sat inches away it felt like there were miles between us. Even as I wanted to prod her for answers, I knew I made a big mistake by asking for those answers. She wasn’t ready. “Violet... I am—” She held up a hand, stopping my apology midway.

Then underlined the name she had written. I said, “Bree wants ice cream?” She nodded. “Fine. We will take some for everyone.”

A. Gupta