Hearts and Thorns

by Ella Fields

  “Are you lost?”

  My eyes opened to find a nurse with a kind face standing before me.

  Shaking my head, I prayed my eyes weren’t wet and offered a weak smile. “No, just, um… processing.” I had nothing else to say that wouldn’t have her look of pity turn into one of baffled concern.

  “Call out if you need anything.”

  I nodded, and then it was just me and a white door with an oblong sheet of glass giving view to the patient inside.

  Grabbing the cold door handle, I pushed it down and walked into the room.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look at the bed until I’d closed the door behind me and taken another fortifying inhale, releasing it through my nose as I waded closer.

  Heath was staring at me, those eyes, the ones his son had inherited, wide open and heavily lined. I wasn’t sure if this had exhausted him or if the past six years had aged him.

  Even so, his features were no less striking, and after seeing Jackson last night, it was clear he’d inherited both Heath’s and Kylie’s best genes.

  “Willa Grace.”

  My name was a rasped exhale. He wiggled his elbows beneath him, propping himself up higher in the bed.

  My muscles itched to move, to offer assistance, but my heart kept my feet planted to the glossed floor. “Hi,” was all I could say, my gaze floating down his blanket-clad body to the leg that was casted. Swallowing, I nodded to it. “Does it hurt?”

  Heath chuckled, a cough rattling from him. “I’ve had far worse.” Frowning, I let my eyes reach his, and he sighed. “The pain is somewhat manageable, but yeah, it’s been pretty horrific at times, that’s for sure.”

  I wanted to ask how it’d happened, but my tongue was too thick.

  As if knowing, he explained, “Car pileup on the highway home.”

  “How many?”

  “Nine.” Clearing his throat, he added, “Two casualties.”

  My chest squeezed, and when he reached for the pitcher on the nightstand, I found myself moving.

  A tremor shot through my hand as I refilled the cup and passed it over.

  He took it, offering his thanks, but I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  I stepped back to the wall, tugging at my floral sundress and staring at a black streak on the white floor. “How long will you need to stay here for?”

  “I should be home by next week.” I tracked the cup’s descent to his lap, where he clutched it. “Not that it’ll be much better than being here.”

  “What do you mean?” I couldn’t believe I’d asked.

  He huffed. “Look at me, Wil. I’m useless, and I’ll be this way for a long fucking time.”

  Hearing him curse wasn’t exactly foreign, but it was still an oddity, something he always tried to refrain from doing unless he was really pissed off.

  “You’re otherwise okay?” I was proud of how detached the question sounded.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Guess so.”

  I nodded, still unable to look him in the eye, and turned for the door. “I need to go, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “Wait,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure why I did, but I paused with my hand on the door handle. No, I knew why. I knew I waited because not once, whenever I’d been hurting and I’d needed someone to wait, to listen, had they done the same for me. “Yes?”

  “Come back?” He rushed on in a ramble so unlike him, “I mean, just to see me while I’m here? I know you probably won’t come to the house, but I’d like to see you again, at least once.”

  That was the moment I realized, as if I was having some type of out of body experience, that I could’ve said nothing and walked away for good, or I could do something I never thought myself capable of.

  Perhaps time was the answer. Or maybe the spirit grew so heavy from other’s transgressions and your own mistakes that you knew holding them close enough to make decisions for you would be something you’d one day regret.

  Still, I could make no promises. “I’ll think about it.”

  Out in the hall, I ducked my head to swipe at a rogue tear and walked briskly until I met the end of the hallway that neared the elevators. There, I stood with my back against the wall, and my head tilted to the blinding fluorescent lights above, and I swallowed profusely.

  I swallowed every raging, screaming, crying part of me that wanted out. That demanded justice and penance for what it’d made of me.

  But maybe, as my offer to think about returning came back to me, what it’d made of me was exactly who I was supposed to be.

  Broken, scarred, but still forgiving. At least, forgiving enough to move forward.

  Hushed murmurs infiltrated my staccato thoughts, and I turned my head just enough to see a couple talking by the elevators.

  Every thought I’d had, every feeling that’d began to resurface since he’d shown up in my apartment last night, dissolved into a puddle of despair.

  With his hands framing her face, he said something to her I couldn’t hear, but the intensity in which they were staring at each other said more than words ever could.

  This was no sick joke; they were together.

  Which was further confirmed by the joining of their lips.

  I tucked myself back around the corner when their heads tilted, taking it deeper, someplace I never wanted to be privy to.

  Anger ignited, faster than I could’ve predicted. All those years ago, he’d made out as if I’d had the wrong idea, as if I was the one who’d betrayed him and had ruined everything.

  Yet there they were, two peas in a heartbreaking pod.

  I had to leave. I had to move. Eyeing the hall back to Heath’s room, I contemplated finding an emergency exit, and then the sound of heels clipping over the floor had me plastering myself to the wall.

  A pointless endeavor as another glance to my right showed Ainsley walking inside the elevator.

  I watched, couldn’t stop myself, as she adjusted her cream sweater over her skintight high-waisted jeans, and then tugged her hand through her longer, blond waves.

  That was when I saw it. The sun streaming in the windows in the waiting bay, and the lights overhead, caught the diamond band around her finger, and made it glint.

  Then she was gone, and I wondered if I’d melt into the wall or simply collapse.

  As if the first blow hadn’t been bad enough, I had to be dealt two in one cruel sweep.

  “You cut your hair.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes, and I hadn’t even thought about the fact that he hadn’t entered the elevator with Ainsley.

  “Um, yeah.” Blinking furiously, I straightened and gazed at the ground to keep him from seeing what the past half hour had done to my heart. “Some years ago now.”

  “You looked better before.”

  My eyes snapped to his, glaring. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” There was no inflection in his tone, no expression on his face. He was a blank canvas, and I was the paint he refused to soil himself with.

  Tucking some of said hair behind my ear, a wet laugh escaped. “Wow.”

  He hummed. “You’ve seen him?”

  “Why else would I be here?”

  A thick brow rose. “I don’t know. Perhaps you enjoy loitering in hallways in your spare time now and eavesdropping on other people’s conversations.”

  This man. This cruel man. He knew me, and he knew his words were complete bullshit. “I didn’t hear anything. I was just waiting for you to leave.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean why?”

  His jaw twitched with annoyance. “I mean exactly what the word implies.”

  Unbelievable. I had no idea why I was even still standing there. “I should go.”

  “You should.”

  “You’re engaged?”

  A nod, his hands sliding into the pockets of his slacks. “We are.” My weighted eyes dropped to the streaked floor. “Not going to congratulate me?” The question was so dry, it mocked and
dared.

  Forcing enough air inside my nose to fuel words that wanted to tear at my tongue, I said, soft and rough, “Congratulations, Jackson.”

  His eyes thinned, observing and calculating, and I decided I’d already experienced more than I could handle for one day. Hell, for an entire year.

  I made myself move, my arm brushing his as he stood statue still.

  As I bypassed the elevators to the stairs, my head and heart throbbing, I wondered if maybe forgiveness was overrated after all.

  Willa

  “Engaged?” Flo spat, crumbs shooting out of her mouth.

  Daphne frowned, her nose scrunching as she leaned back, thanking me as I set her coffee down.

  I dragged a seat over, tearing at the croissant I’d snatched from the display cabinet. “Yep.”

  Daphne stared at her coffee for a moment, seeming lost in thought. “He was rude?”

  Remembering our exchange, and the one the night before, I scoffed. “He wasn’t just rude. He was…” I observed the pastry in my hand, remembering. “He was horrible.”

  “He’s always had that in him,” Daphne said.

  “Had what?” Flo mumbled, licking her fingers. “The ability to be a raging dick?”

  Daphne smirked. “Precisely.”

  After leaving the hospital, I’d gone home for an hour, which was how long it’d taken to dry my tears and wash my face and pretend nothing had happened.

  I should’ve known Florence would see right through it the moment I entered the bakery.

  So when Daphne had shown up this morning, opening the door with, “What’s he done?” I’d glared at Flo, who’d shrugged and began gathering treats for this impromptu coffee date.

  I got up to serve a customer who’d walked in, then returned to catch the tail end of Daphne’s sentence. “… always wanted him.”

  I knew they’d been talking about Ainsley.

  Sorrow rushed in, fisting my heart. “He made his choice long ago.”

  Daphne hummed. “As did you.”

  I scowled, ripping more pastry and eating it. “We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Flo waved a hand. “So you thought he’d dumped you. Still, you didn’t put up much of a fight before he left.”

  I felt my face drain of color. “What?”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “She’s got a point,” Daphne said. “But that doesn’t matter now. None”—she gave me a hard look—“of this should matter now. So quit showing him that it obviously does. Judging by what you’ve said, it’s probably giving him some whack power trip hard-on.”

  I thumbed my apron, wiping my greasy fingertips. “What am I supposed to do then? Just hide away and wait until he leaves?” The idea of running into him again was more than I could bear. I didn’t know what I’d do if I had to endure another encounter like the two we’d already had.

  Flo considered that. “How long do you think he’s in town for?”

  Daphne made a noise, sipping her coffee.

  Flo and I both said, “What?”

  Daphne sighed, lowering her mug. “Lars said something.”

  “So you knew Jackson was back, and you didn’t think to warn a girl?” I asked.

  Her green eyes shined with impatience. “Shut up. I didn’t know until late last night after he’d gotten off the phone with him. Then this morning, this one”—she jabbed a finger at Flo—“is already blowing up my phone.”

  Flo grinned, then stole Daphne’s cupcake.

  I waited, unsure if I should run out the door and back upstairs to the safety of my bed.

  “He’s taking over the company.”

  My stomach hollowed.

  “But he’s like, what, twenty-four?”

  Daphne raised a brow at Flo. “Willa has her own business.”

  Flo snorted. “Not a multi-million dollar one.” Sheepish, she smiled at me. “No offense, Wil.”

  “None taken,” I mumbled, trying to process. “For good?” I asked Daphne.

  She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, but for the foreseeable future.”

  It had been his plan, his dream, to one day do just that. I didn’t know how he might feel about it all now, though. It was possible during his years in Texas that he’d collected new dreams and aspirations for himself.

  “Well…” Flo licked her fingers once more. “This small town is about to get real cozy.”

  I whimpered, and my head dropped to the table with a thud.

  Jackson

  My hands tightened around Ainsley’s hips, bringing her body to mine with every violent thrust.

  She moaned, her back arching as she began to rub herself. I let her go, too focused on finding my own pleasure to stop now.

  Her damp blond hair dripped down the valley of her spine. I’d cornered her on the way out of the bathroom after waking in a cold sweat and said nothing as I’d tossed her towel to the floor and began feasting on her cunt.

  Her cries grew louder, echoing off the tiles, adding to the roaring in my ears as our skin slapped and my heart galloped.

  Perfect. She was fucking perfect. All bronzed skin and glazed blue eyes staring back at me in the mirror, her huge tits swaying.

  As she came, I threw my head back on a groan, expecting to follow as she squeezed my cock. I didn’t and forced my eyes shut as acute need warred with the restless, reckless desire to come. To unload and rid the tension that’d crawled inside my body since arriving back in this god damned town.

  Blue eyes were replaced by hazel, and I growled, shaking my head, opening my own to a damp ceiling. Still, they remained, the pucker to her top lip, the collapsing of her shoulders as she’d folded into herself with every word that left my mouth.

  Those huge eyes, surrounded by naturally long, dark lashes, gazing at the ground before finally meeting mine with the force of a thousand knives to the chest.

  I’d hurt her.

  Good, I thought, my climax within reach once more.

  I’d crushed her.

  Even better, I groaned, my hands bruising slick flesh, and my body trembling.

  I would destroy her.

  With a shouted curse, I came, breathing as if I’d just ran ten miles. On and on it went, and I grew dizzy, struggled to stay upright.

  Warm hands slid over my chest, and I shook my head, staring down into deep blue jewels as my blood ran cold. “You needed that.”

  I blew out a breath through my nose, unable to talk, and just nodded.

  Ainsley pressed her lips to my sweat-misted pec, then used the toilet while I disposed of the condom I’d filled with a fuck ton of cum.

  I was in the shower, the water raining down over my cold skin, when what’d just happened dug its claws in. My hand slapped against the wall, that old rage returning with a vengeance I was too scared to even try to tame.

  Even here, while I was balls deep inside a woman who’d been by my side through all my bullshit, Willa was able to sneak in with the potential to fuck it all up again.

  Not this time, I vowed silently.

  She might’ve been able to penetrate my thoughts, but she could no longer get near my heart.

  Ainsley had left for work by the time I made it out to the kitchen, dressed and ready to leave myself.

  We were leasing a two-bedroom villa by the beach. A nice slice of calm to help with resettling, Ainsley had said when she’d found it online. There was nothing calm about it. In fact, I hadn’t even had the time to open the doors to the back verandah that overlooked the sand and bay.

  Ainsley had found a job running one of the local preschools, which wasn’t her dream, but she’d said it would do for now.

  She’d made no secret of her love for children, nor of her desire to have as many of them as she could.

  We were still young, thankfully, so talk of that was easily shelved with a soft, “One step at a time.”

  I had a long road ahead of me before I even contemplated the idea of raising another human being, and i
f I was being honest, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to.

  I parked underground in the reserved spot meant for my father and hit the key fob on the way to the elevator.

  The new truck had been a gift to myself after completing school in Texas and gaining full-time employment as a scout for an up-and-coming motocross team.

  I missed it, not really the place itself, but the freedom and independence it provided. It’d never felt like home, but it was good enough. I wasn’t sure any place would ever feel like home again.

  Desmond found me before I’d even reached the office door. “Mr. Thorn, your nine o’clock is running almost an hour late.”

  “That’s fine,” I told him. I had plenty to do, given I was still finding my feet and therefore, trying to catch up. “Have Freda bring me a coffee when she’s got a minute.”

  Blinking, he nodded. “It’s going to make the meeting at noon run overtime, which won’t please some of the partners.”

  “They’ll survive,” I muttered. “That all?”

  Blinking again, he pushed his glasses back and checked his tablet. “Ah, yes. For now.”

  “Good.” I opened the door, breathing a sigh of relief when it sealed shut behind me.

  I’d barely drank half my coffee when Desmond phoned. “Sir, I’m sorry, Mrs. Thorn is on her way—”

  A sharp knock had me hanging up.

  I let her wait for a full minute while I finished my coffee. Gone were the days I did anything in a hurry for Victoria. If it were possible, I wouldn’t have anything to do with her at all.

  I buzzed her in.

  Huffing and adjusting her bright blue suit jacket, she crossed the room to my father’s desk, words already vacating her mouth. “She still won’t talk to me. She went to see your father, but she won’t even allow me inside her kitschy little bakery.”

  I wasn’t sure what kind of test I was being put through, but I was determined not to let myself fail. The hatred and the need for retribution that would never come, it needed to stay buried, or else there was little point in being here.

  “Is this your way of asking me to talk to her again?” I lifted a brow, knowing the idea would likely still unsettle her. Besides, I wouldn’t. Willingly putting myself in the same place as Willa was a mistake, and if I kept making the same one, I knew I’d be sorry.