Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers Book 1)

by Ahren Sanders

  She’s no longer pale but has turned a sickly green. The desperation in her eyes returns, and before I can ask if she’s okay, she’s in front of my sink, doubled over. I get to her in time to rescue her hair as she hurls over and over again. With each lurch of her body, my guilt rises. She heaves until nothing is left.

  “Water,” she rasps, taking her hair from me.

  I grab a cold bottle from the fridge, open it, and slide it under her face.

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry, Darby. I’ve never in my life spewed the gory details of Connie before, and I shouldn’t have started with you.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m okay, just give me a minute.”

  “I’m going to get a washcloth. Be right back.”

  She nods as more tears spill down her cheeks. I reluctantly leave her standing there crying and take the short walk to my room. I take a few minutes to mentally piece back together my control.

  When I think it’s been long enough for both of us to breathe easier, I return. And I’m alone. There’s no sign of Darby anywhere. Her water bottle sits next to the sink, which is washed out.

  I race to the door and see her truck’s gone. She even repositioned the pillows on the swing cushion in their normal spots.

  Anger rears up again, and I haul back, tossing the washcloth with all my strength. “Goddammit!” I scream into the night.

  Chapter 10

  Pierce

  The waitress comes over, waving the coffee pot with a smile. I flick my hand, not even glancing her way, and keep my eyes on the door of the diner. I check my watch and see it’s been exactly ten minutes since Dad and Miller texted to say they were on their way.

  When the door opens, my mom walks through first, followed by my dad. He steps up next to her, possessively wrapping his arm around her waist in a simple gesture I’ve seen a million times in my life, but never did I understand the importance of it until this moment. It’s not only about being proud to be by her side; it’s about wanting to hold her—the feeling of having the woman you love nearby, and even the smallest touch from her can bring you to your knees.

  Mom catches sight of me, and her steps falter, her mouth dropping open. Then I see it, the awareness that glazes in her eyes. She knows… She’s been keeping the truth from me for all these years. Dad urges her forward, his own expression turning grim.

  “Pierce, maybe this isn’t the best place to have this conversation,” she starts.

  “Sit down. Miller is on his way.”

  They do as I ask, Dad ordering coffee for them but declining a menu. Mom fidgets, staring at the door with the look of a mother who will do anything to stop what is about to happen between her sons.

  I don’t have to see him to know he’s here because she gives it away.

  “Anyone want to tell me why we need to meet at a diner this early when we all saw each other last night?” Miller brushes past me, taking the chair to my left. “And why didn’t we get a booth?”

  “Because I’m not going to be here long, and I didn’t want to have to throw your ass out of it when I get up to leave.”

  “Pierce, we should have this conversation somewhere else. Let’s go to your place.” Mom frets.

  “My place isn’t an option, considering there’s more than one hole in the wall I already have to repair.”

  “Whoa, what the hell is going on here?” Miller picks up on the tension and looks between us.

  “Twelve years ago, Darby arrived at the house for dinner and overheard a conversation where the three of you openly discussed her trapping me into marriage, insinuated she got pregnant on purpose, and rounded it out with comments about her going after my money.”

  “Son, that’s not exactly how it went,” Dad says.

  “Really? You want to tell me how it went? What about you, Miller? Want to explain to me how you thought I’d picked up jailbait at seventeen and, even after four years together, still thought we weren’t going to make it the distance.”

  “I didn’t say that, man.”

  “What did you say?”

  “It was twelve years ago. I don’t remember exactly what I said.”

  “Well, twelve years pass by, and you’ve lived your life. I can understand how a short and simple conversation could fade from your mind. But not Darby. She’s lived with those words scarring her to the point of believing them.”

  “She probably shouldn’t have been eavesdropping then,” he barks, and my hand jets out to wrap around his throat before he can react.

  “Boys! Stop it right now!” Mom screeches, and the restaurant goes quiet.

  Dad is out of his chair and has us both by the arms, hauling us out while Mom apologizes to the crowd as she follows behind. When he gets us to the parking lot, he steps in between and shoves us an arm’s length apart.

  “I knew her coming back would cause nothing but trouble. Look at you! You’re acting like a lunatic,” Miller seethes.

  “That’s because the woman I love came to me last night and bared her soul. You have no idea the seeds of doubt you planted in her mind that night.”

  “Why do you even care? She left you! She broke your heart, and now she’s back to fuck you up worse.”

  “She left, but she didn’t leave me. She was already skittish about the baby, scared out of her mind. Then she overheard your bullshit and thought the world was stacked against her. The doubts took over, and she made herself so sick she lost the baby. The blame pushed her into a deep depression that overwhelmed her. Yeah, she left, but she headed straight into the hands of doctors and therapists who pulled her back from the brink of suicide.”

  Mom’s sharp cry fills the space, and Miller’s body convulses. The fire of righteousness dies and is replaced with full-blown shock. Dad’s hand lands on my chest, bunches my shirt, and he yanks me to him, knocking the air out of my lungs.

  “Oh, fuck,” he murmurs in my ear.

  I was twenty-three the last time my dad hugged me like this, and at the time, it was what kept me standing when I learned Darby lost the baby. But today, his comfort does nothing to quash the disloyalty.

  I push back out of his reach and look pointedly at my mom. “You knew. You knew what was happening with her, and that’s why you pushed me to go after her.”

  “I had a feeling but didn’t know for sure until a while later when Annie confided in me. There were never any details about her counseling, but I’ve always wondered what sent her over the edge. This morning, you confirmed it. She overheard something that sounded awful. But it wasn’t as petty as it sounds, Pierce. She heard the worst and didn’t stick around for the best. We shared our doubts, as we have every right to do. But then we shared our joy. You were having a baby, and the excitement outweighed the trepidation.” Mom lays her hand on my arm.

  “You’re wrong. You had no right to have doubts because I didn’t! She came over early that night to tell you we were having a boy. She wanted your help in surprising me.”

  Maybe I should have chosen my words more carefully, but seeing as I have lost my mind, it didn’t happen. All the color drains from her face, and she begins to sway. Dad’s at her side before her knees give out.

  She grips in his arm and looks up with tears building. “A boy. She lost her boy.”

  Something passes between them that I don’t understand, and his face goes hard. Warren Kendrick is usually a pretty relaxed man, but the stony look he throws my way makes me snap my jaw shut.

  “Son, you need to get a hold of whatever is raging inside and remember who loves you. Everyone in this family adored Darby.” He flicks his eyes to Miller then back to me. “We did wrong, and we didn’t have a chance to make it right twelve years ago. But now we do.”

  The pompous dick in me stays alive and points to them. “Damn right. The first thing you need to do is get a hold of Annie and make an order so big it forces Darby into her bakery for days.”

  “Why?” Mom recovers quickly.

  “Because since she ran out of my h
ouse last night after throwing her guts up, I can’t find her. I want her where I know she’s safe.”

  “We can do that. I can get to Annie.”

  “What are you going to do?” Miller dares to ask me.

  “None of your fucking business. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  “Man, I had no idea what was happening with her head.” He has the nerve to look guilty.

  “Fuck you.”

  I spin, leaving them all gaping. Add another notch to my apology tour.

  I jump in my truck, knowing someone may need to bail me out of jail if my next move doesn’t go well.

  •—•—•—•—•

  It’s eight o’clock before she finally drives up, and it’s surprising she doesn’t keep driving when she sees me sitting on her deck. I sip my beer and watch her climb out slowly, dragging a huge bag with her. She gives me one look and focuses on the ground as she makes her way to the shed.

  “Hey.” Her shoulders sag with exhaustion, and her voice is small and weak.

  “Hey.”

  Her head pivots to both sides, and she leans to the side to look beyond the building. “Did you walk here?”

  “Truck is parked around by the barn. I walked through with your dad earlier.”

  “Ah, the horses.” She nods in understanding. “Did he ask you to come?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Why are you waiting on me?” She still is at the foot of the stairs, not approaching.

  “Can I help you with that?” I point to the bag weighing down her arm.

  “No, thanks. It’s a bunch of business paperwork.”

  “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

  “You brought wine?”

  “Nope, but I saw some in your kitchen.”

  “You were in my house?”

  I wave my beer as my answer.

  “How did you get in?”

  “Used the hidden key.”

  “My parents never moved that?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Good to know.”

  There’s a beat of silence before she reluctantly trudges up the stairs. “Look, Pierce—”

  “Where have you been?”

  “I spent the day doing administrative work with Evin. We just finished dinner.”

  “What about when you left last night? You didn’t come home.”

  “H-h-how do you know that?” she stutters.

  “I came looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were sick, and I was worried.”

  “It was intense, but you don’t need to worry. I’m okay now.”

  “Intense?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Okay, it was excruciating.” Her shoulders slump lower, and her neck rolls back.

  “Baby, you’ve always been breathtaking to me, even when exhausted, but you’re dead on your feet. Why don’t you go inside and change so we can have this conversation where you’re more comfortable?”

  She whips her face to mine, shock flaring in her expression. Then she twists and turns, looking around like she’s confused. “This looks like the same shed. Last I checked, I still lived here. But for some reason, I feel like I’ve walked through to an alternate universe. Where’s my dog?”

  “Runner got quite the workout today. Last I saw, he was passed out on the living room rug.”

  Her fingers give out, and the bag makes a loud thud on the deck. “You took Runner with you?”

  “Edward did.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Go change. I’ll get your wine.” I stand.

  “Aren’t you furious with me?”

  “Furious with a lot of things, but none of them are you.”

  “But—”

  “Honey, please go change.” I catch the trace of recognition in her eyes at the gentle tone of my voice, the same voice that was always my weapon of pushing her to get moving.

  Thankfully, she listens and goes into the house. I grunt at the weight of the bag as I haul it inside and place it on her desk. Runner barely moves as I step over him and head to the kitchen, finding what I need.

  A few minutes later, she reappears in the living room, and Runner instantly gets to his feet, pouncing over and almost knocking her down as she wobbles back on one leg.

  “Runner, no!” comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, and both of them freeze.

  “He’s not going to trample me.”

  “He almost took you down.”

  She rolls her eyes and talks to the dog. “It’s okay. He doesn’t know how long we’ve been doing this. I can handle you.”

  He bumps against her jaw a few times then gets down, circling behind and plopping at her heels.

  “That looks nice.” Her chin jerks toward the glass of wine I’m holding.

  “Get your ass over here, and it could be all yours.”

  Her lips crinkle in a small smile, and she comes my way, stretching her hand when she’s close.

  “I want one of those hugs.”

  The smile vanishes. “Not a good idea.”

  “It’s a very good idea,” I argue.

  Her feet shuffle slowly, keeping her eyes on mine with uncertainty building. I place the wine on the counter and haul her the rest of the way, cradling her as close as possible. Immediately, her scent is everywhere, and my heart hammers in my chest, knowing she can feel it. “Fuck, Darby. I’m sorry, baby. Sorry to the bottom of my goddamn soul. I shouldn’t have unleashed on you the way I did. It was a massive mistake on my part,” I say softly into her hair.

  Her body quivers against mine, but finally, she grabs hold of my waist and bundles my shirt. “I’m not sorry. At least, not about that. That was the part of our fight that actually gave me relief.”

  “Relief? There is no excuse for the way I spoke to you.”

  “No, but it was heat of the moment wrath. In the most bizarre way, it gave me peace of mind.”

  I rear back to see her face, and my own breath catches. “How?”

  She sucks her bottom lip through her teeth, contemplating something, and then clutches my shirt firmer. “I thought you’d moved on, that you actually had feelings for her. It makes me an awful person to be relieved at the truth, and I should be ashamed. Maybe, one day, I will be. I mean, she is the mother of your children, and it is awful that I’m happy she—”

  “I never moved on from you.” I cut her off. “I was forced to get my shit together and face the music because it was about the welfare of my daughter and, later, my son. Last night was the first time in my life I said the gruesome details of how Connie got pregnant, and I got carried away. How fucked up is it that I’ve never even slept in the same bed or held the hand of the woman that had my kids?”

  She winces painfully, and I catch the sadness creeping in. It’s time to shift this conversation before we go too far again. “You said a lot of things, too.”

  “I did, and I should have been more delicate.”

  “Fuck no, you knew how to get my attention. There’s a lot we need to talk about, but I have to know, do you still think it’s your fault?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll never know for sure, but I can’t help but think my mental state, my confusion and anxiety, led to the result.”

  “I hate myself for letting you go through that alone.”

  “It was my choice.”

  “Which makes me think I need to be a part of your choices going forward.”

  Her eyes fill with misery. “We messed things up back then. Even now, knowing it’s my fault, you were vulnerable to Connie. I pushed you into the mouth of a waiting shark. All the pain and heartache, all these years, it was caused by me.”

  “Baby, don’t take that on your shoulders with everything else. I wish I could absorb every ounce of your pain. We’re going to find a way to let it go, together.”

  Her lips part as what I’ve said sinks in. “There’s no way to do that.”

  “There’s a way. I may not be able t
o travel back in time, but I’m going to make things right.”

  “Things are right. We cleared the air and found closure.”

  “First steps.”

  “I can’t stay here, Pierce. I know that now. The memories are painful, but the reality is devastating. You have children with another woman, and that’s partially my fault. That will never change.”

  “No, but we’ll make new memories, starting tonight.” My hands sift through her hair, tilting her face to the side. I lower my mouth to hers, skimming my lips across hers, kissing from corner to corner. Unlike the other morning, I take my time, and when I slip my tongue through, it strokes hers gently. She tastes like chocolate and raspberries, and I’m instantly hard to taste more.

  I walk her backward, supporting her weight, and keep our mouths joined. When we hit the doorway to the bedroom, I end the kiss, haul her into my arms, and sit on her bed.

  “Pierce—” Her objection dies when I yank the neckline of her tank down and run my thumb over her nipple. “Ahhhh,” she moans.

  “Tonight, Darby. We make new memories tonight,” I repeat.

  It’s easy to see she’s waging a war in her head. Her body responds to my touch, her nipple hardening immediately, and her pulse racing. In the past, when Darby had doubts about anything, it was easier to get through to her with actions rather than words. It was the intensity of our connection that could break her uncertainties and ignite her faith in me and, more importantly, in us. I’m hoping that’s still the case because she needs to understand that I’ve made a decision.

  “You control this. Tell me when to stop. But right now, let me show you that you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

  Her expression changes; fiery, blazing heat blisters my skin as she gives a short nod. My hand travels under the satin of her bra, caressing her breast while my mouth covers hers. We kiss lazily, her fingers scraping the stubble on my cheeks, letting me control our pace.

  A round of memories assaults my brain, more reminders of how Darby Graham owned me. Not once in all the years did I ever engage in the intimacy part of sex—the slow burn, small touches, expectations of what was happening—never with anyone else. Sex became fucking with one goal in mind, getting off. Always, no exceptions. I was generous, never taking without giving, but foreplay was quick, the fuck was usually hard, and the aftermath could get awkward.