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Glass Heart Broken: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Glass Heart Academy Book 2)

Page 31

by Lindsey Iler


  I stand, helping her out of her coat. “Thank you for coming,” I whisper, afraid if I talk too loudly, everyone will hear the happiness in my voice from seeing her in my space.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about the woman who gave birth to me. If it weren’t for Palmer, I’m not sure I’d have ever gotten to this place of understanding. Watching her struggle with her own parents has been an eye opener to how short life can be. After they’d dismissed her, she turned most of her focus onto the rest of us, fixing our woes while allowing her own heart to mend.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” She drops a peck on my cheek, brushing her thumb over the lipstick that’s sure to stain my skin.

  Palmer stands, and my two favorite women hug each other. An understanding, mutual respect passed between them not too long ago, and something tells me they’re forever bonded because of one horrific night in our not so far past.

  “I wish your parents could have been here. I would have loved to have met them,” my mom says.

  Palmer smiles to be polite. The anguish she feels can’t stay hidden, but she won’t burden anyone with her pain. I’ve overheard the phone calls and caught her wiping away the tears their words have created. They’ve mourned the death of their eldest daughter twice. Once when they believed she had been murdered and again when they realized she isn’t who they thought she was. In the process of doing so, they’ve allowed their grief to push away the one daughter who needs them, once and for all. Not to mention, they refuse to believe their precious, princess Reed is capable of anything other than saintly behavior.

  “It’s fucking New Year’s, and I’m stuck hanging out with you idiots.” Breaker passes into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and jumping on the countertop, pops the top, and takes a long slug. He may be drunk, but he’s a great drunk distraction for Palmer.

  “Knock it off, Break, or else,” Palmer scolds him.

  “Oh, someone’s in trouble with Mom,” Dixon goads him, setting the table for dinner.

  Palmer had made it crystal clear that no one was going out for New Year’s Eve. Not a single one of us argued with her. We knew what she wanted, what we were in desperate need of. So, when she suggested we invite everyone to the house, no one objected.

  It’s been a few weeks since our lives blew up. We managed to get through Christmas, barely feeling a single thing. Byron has resumed teaching at school. Dixon has returned to secluding himself in his room. Palmer and I, we’ve only talked about what happened a handful of times. She’s been going to see someone, learning to cope with the things that have happened, but if I’m being honest, I don’t know how she’ll ever get over what she’s gone through. By falling into our grip, she made the ultimate sacrifice for Reed, only to learn her sister fed her to the wolves way before then, for sick reasons we’ll never truly understand.

  Officer Franklin has kept us up to date on things as he hears them, but for the most part, we are working on moving forward.

  One thing I hadn’t expected was my mom’s involvement. A week passed before she reached out to me, explaining everything I didn’t see behind the curtain. She had always suspected Henry’s wrongdoings and admitted to knowing he had played a big part in my sister’s death. It wasn’t until my good-for-nothing father removed himself from our lives that Henry swooped in, putting himself too close to my mom. His attempts to groom her were futile. She trusted her gut far more than she could ever trust him, and it served her well.

  Henry had propositioned my mom, offering her a lot of money and access to things she’d lost when my father left. She went to the police and, as luck would have it, met Officer Franklin’s father, who’d passed his knowledge down to his son. They knew they needed to be smart in order to bring down the organization, so they bided their time. Thankfully, my mom’s one decision changed the course of our lives and brought him down for the final time.

  “She’s good for you.” My mom settles in next to me as I watch Palmer move about the kitchen. She’s preparing the turkey she’d insisted on cooking.

  I really look at my mom for the first time, and I see the wear and tear in her eyes. “How can you tell?”

  “I’ve only ever seen you this happy once in your life.”

  “When was that?” I inquire, unable to stop the smile when Palmer smacks Dixon’s hand away from the turkey.

  “When you held Penelope for the first time. I was never a good mom to you, but the moment I put her in your arms, I saw it in your eyes. You were whole. You had a family, and now you do again, with Palmer.” She tries to hide the tears, but it’s too late.

  “Mom,” I say, surprising both of us.

  “No, I just need you to know I’m proud of you, of the man you’ve become, not because of me, but in spite of me.” She cups my cheek. “You’ve been through hell, living up to your name. God of war. You’re worthy of everything you want, Marek. You need to know that.”

  “Oh, he knows. I like to remind him, far too often. He hates the exposed cracks inside here.” Palmer bends down and kisses me on the cheek while rubbing her hand across my heart. “Ready to eat?”

  Breaker, Dixon, and Byron slip into line first, filling their plates. Reagan joins them. I stand against the far wall, watching everyone, wondering how I got so lucky to live this life.

  Once everyone has food, we sit around the table. Palmer stands beside me, holding up her glass.

  “This is stupid, but I feel like every last word needs to be said.” She shifts her smile around the room, making sure each of us feels our importance to her. “When I look at all of you, I see different things. A girl who sacrificed herself for me.” Reagan. “The soulless and selfless.” Byron. “The lost.” Dixon. “A guiding light.” Breaker. “A shield.” My mom. “And then there’s you.” Palmer turns directly towards me.

  “You’re not proposing to him, are you?” Breaker interrupts. “Oh, shit, baby girl. You’re too young to get married.”

  “Will you shut the fuck up?” I glare at him while Palmer picks up a cooked carrot and throws it at his chest.

  “And then there’s you, Marek, and there isn’t much to say except I love you.” Her shoulders lift in that cute way she does when she’s trying not to show too much emotion, but it’s right in front of me. A split chest, exposing the pieces of her she’d like to keep hidden away.

  Since we first said I love you in that house, a whispered declaration, we haven’t said it again. In typical Palmer and Marek fashion, we avoid and deflect. Neither of us wants to admit we need the other, yet, every morning I roll over, needing her next to me as if she’s a permanent part of my soul. She’s guiding me to be a better man, while allowing me to be a little psycho like she likes me.

  “I love you, too,” I whisper, surprised to see the relief on her face. “You know that, right?”

  “I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to see how hard emotions are for you to express, Marek,” Byron chimes in. Breaker and Dixon laugh, knowing how ironic it is to hear sound advice leaving Byron’s mouth.

  “Okay, this isn’t group therapy. You can fuck off, each and every one of you,” I say.

  “Palmer, how do you deal with these four all the time?” Reagan asks, making the room fill with laughter.

  “She’s our boat,” Dixon expresses, stealing a green bean off Reagan’s plate.

  “We’re her thunderstorm,” Breaker adds, taking another swig from the whiskey bottle that is glued to his hand lately. “Speaking of crazy, where’s your bitch of a best friend?”

  “Breaker, not tonight,” I chastise him like he’s my child. “Seriously, now is not the night.”

  As if everyone senses the shift in the room, Palmer settles into her seat, keeping her eyes on Breaker as we start to eat. Forks and knives scraping on plates is the only sound.

  Mid-meal Breaker shoves his chair out, knocking it to the floor, and leaves the room.

  He’s not dealing with the new reality as well as the rest of us. Palmer has tried to talk
to him, but he’s spiraling. I can’t blame him. I’ve felt the pain of being shut out by the girl who tears your soul in a million different directions. What he’s going through is something that will take time to come to grips with.

  “When is she coming back?” I whisper in Palmer’s ear, but the room is too quiet. They hear me. As if everyone is eager for an answer, silverware is lowered to their plates, and their eyes inspect Palmer for a sign.

  “She’s met someone.” My girl keeps her eyes on her plate, too afraid to look up and deal with what that means for Breaker.

  A loud bang in the kitchen, followed by shattered glass, echoes off the walls, piercing our ears. At Breaker’s feet, a pool of amber liquid seeps into the grooves of the floor. Shards of glass glisten around him.

  “What do you mean she met someone?” Breaker’s voice is painfully erratic, laced with an anger that can’t be contained. This is it. The moment we’ve been waiting for, but completely unprepared for. “Who the hell could she have possibly met?”

  A letter to you...

  What a wild ride, huh? It’s so bitter sweet to say goodbye to Marek and Palmer, but I’m so happy you’ve all went on this ride with me.

  This series started on a crazy idea, but it quickly turned into this world I hope you will love for a really long time.

  I hope you’ll continue to ride this one out with me because I have so much more story to tell for each of the boys.

  You ready for some news? Want to know who’s up next?

  Wait until you see what BREAKER DAVENPORT is up to.

  Signup for my newsletter to stay up to date!

  Acknowledgements

  Bryan- I always save the first spot of my acknowledgment for my husband, Bryan. Let’s be real, he’s always the MVP. He’s dealt with my crazy, not only during a deadline, but during a pandemic. You can only imagine what our household has been like for the last six months. He, once again, stepped up and gave me the confidence to finish this book and allowed me to stress without pointing out the piled-up clothes. I love you, Bryan.

  Katie- What can I say? You are always cheerleading behind me, encouraging me to be a better writer. You are a Rockstar editor and I can’t thank you enough.

  Wildfire Marketing Solutions... Jennifer- Working with you feels like the most effortless part of this journey. You go above and beyond and I’m never looking back. Thank you for all of your dedication and hard work with helping share my work and get it into readers hands.

  Catherine- Okay, girl! Let’s get sappy! You have so quickly become such an important part of my life. Every time you message me to see how I’m doing and how the next book is going, you are literally pushing me. You may not know it and maybe I need to remind you more, but you are one of the reasons why these books are what they are. YOU ARE THE BEST STALKER I’VE EVER HAD.

  Johnaka and Amber- Once again, you held on tight, waiting and waiting for me to get this book to you. The last six months has been insane and I’m so thankful for your patience. You girls are irreplaceable.

  The P & BS girls- IF YOU KNOW THEN YOU KNOW. You are literally one of the biggest reasons why this book is being published. Thank you for all the laughs, allowing me to procrastinate without judgement, and for your friendship. Love you, girls.

  Julie Deaton- As always, you are such a pivotal part of my writing process. I wouldn’t be able to confidently hit that button without having your eyes on my work. Thank you for always finding a way to squeeze me in and working so hard on my manuscript.

  Lindsey’s Savage World Girls- You are my happy place. I know I can jump into the group anytime and leave with a smile. I literally adore each and every one of you. Thank you for the bottomless support.

  Lindsey’s Savage Queens- OMG! Where do I begin? You are my team. You are always so willing to share my posts, not because you have to, but because you want. I’m so proud to know each and every one of you.

  Lindsey’s Little Savages- You girls are literally my ride or dies. You read these crazy stories I create and trust me to take you in the right direction. Thank you for everything you do.

  Bloggers and readers- I left you for last because you are the reason, I get to sit in front of my laptop every day and write. Every time you pick up one of my books and sign up for my new releases, you are allowing my dreams to come true. I can never thank you enough.

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  About the Author

  Lindsey Iler has had her feet planted in the state of Michigan since she was born and she still lives there with her husband and four kids.

  When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with family and friends, listening to music, and reading.

  Lindsey writes mature young adult/new adult romance. She falls in love with every character that pops into her head and is notorious for writing long chapters in her notes on her iPhone.

  She finds inspiration from music and the people around her.

 

 

 


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