Pieces of Us: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel

by Jackson, A. L.

  Jace sighed out his regret.

  There was a ton of it, but that didn’t make it better.

  “Listen, Mack, I just found out. Barely a week ago. Faith told me after Izzy came back to Broadshire Rim.”

  Disappointment and betrayal pulsed and throbbed, and I sat back in the booth, blowing out a resentful breath. “Faith knew.”

  Of course, she knew.

  She’d been Izzy’s best friend.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Pretty sure carrying that secret has been eating her alive. But she felt she owed it to Izzy.”

  A roll of bitter laughter filtered out, and I rocked my head back on the high booth, body filled up with nothing but disbelief. “Perfect.”

  “This isn’t Faith’s fault—”

  “You’re right, it’s not. It’s mine,” I bit out, cutting him off because I didn’t need any fucking explanations.

  “I never wanted to keep it from you. I told her I wouldn’t keep it for long, but I promised I would give Izzy the chance to tell you.”

  “Doesn’t change anything, does it?”

  “Uh, yeah, pretty sure it changes a lot. You’re a dad, asshole. And you’re over here getting hammered when you should be getting to know your kid.” Jace’s brow was all pinched up, guy looking at me like he didn’t recognize me.

  I scoffed out a sound. “Izzy was right in not tellin’ me. I don’t deserve to be a dad, and I sure as hell don’t want that kind of responsibility.”

  The words slashed.

  Disgust after disgust.

  All of it coming fast.

  All of it directed at me.

  I was to blame.

  I’d always been to blame.

  Ian angled over the table. “So, what, you’re just going to pretend like you don’t have a kid? Go on with your life like nothing has changed? Keep dipping your dick in girls like Clarissa because it makes your life easy? Tell me you’re joking because you are not acting like the guy I know.”

  Easy.

  Hilarious.

  Jace reared back. “Tell me you aren’t still hooking up with her?”

  “None of your concern who I’m hitting,” I returned.

  I started to push from the booth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go take a piss and get the hell out of here. You two have families to be with. You don’t need to babysit me.”

  I started to walk away, and Ian grabbed me by the forearm. “Come on, man. Don’t act like this. Let’s talk this out. This is a big fucking deal, and I know you have to be shocked. Confused. Angry, and on some level, I’m sure you deserve to be. But you can’t just walk away like this.”

  I ripped my arm out of his hold. “Watch me.”

  I was being a prick, but I couldn’t sit there for a second longer and endure their judgment. Could feel it radiating from them, coming at me, wave after wave.

  Had enough judgment to cast me into the grave.

  I stumbled my way down the hall and fumbled into the men’s restroom. Could barely remain standing at the urinal while I took a piss, my mind and head spinning so fast my sight was blurring.

  A cyclone of alcohol and agony.

  I tucked my dick back into my jeans, buttoned, washed my hands, refused to look at myself in the mirror in fear that I was gonna see the kid staring back.

  The kid. The kid.

  I pressed my face into my hands, trying to shut it down. To shield myself from this need rising up inside of me, screaming out to do something. To stand up and be the man Izzy had believed I could be.

  First sight, and I’d already fucked it up.

  Izzy hated me.

  Izzy.

  Little Bird.

  I pressed my hand to the wall when I swayed, and I shook my head hard and flung open the door and staggered out into the hall.

  Feet nearly gave when I saw Clarissa coming out of the women’s restroom, my sight blurry, but 99.9% sure it was her.

  Speak of the devil.

  God, wondered what it’d feel like to have those lips wrapped around my cock.

  Torture myself with the mindless bullshit I deserved.

  Her smirk was nothing less than cruel victory when she saw me standing there staring at her.

  She sauntered across the space, dripping sin, backing me right into the wall. “Back for me so soon?” she purred.

  My stomach twisted, nausea rising, but I was reaching for her, pushing my fingers into her hair, jerking her mouth to mine.

  “Told you, you’d come crawling back,” she hissed at my mouth, kissing me harder. Deeper. Her tongue slipping inside.

  That sickness only grew.

  Spin. Spin. Spin.

  I was gonna lose it.

  The girl crawled all over me right out in the hallway.

  Nothing new.

  It felt wrong. So goddamn wrong.

  “You belong to me, Mack. You always have. Don’t fucking forget it.”

  And I tried . . . I tried to kiss her back. Tried to fight the nausea that churned in my guts when I wrapped my arms around her waist and hauled her against my hard, aching cock.

  Problem was, it wasn’t aching for her.

  Izzy, Izzy.

  Anguish flowed.

  I pulled her closer, trying to get lost, to fall into her, to block out everything except for the feel of her against my body.

  The only thing I saw were three faces.

  Three faces.

  And I knew, I was utterly and completely fucked.

  I pried myself away, stumbling back, and I pointed a finger at her. “No,” was the only thing I could get out of my mouth.

  She raked the back of her hand over her mouth, cleaning the lipstick I’d smeared. Or maybe her face was just distorted.

  She laughed that crazed sound. Like she’d won.

  “No,” I mumbled again, turning around, hand darting to the wall to keep me steady.

  I blundered my way down the hall, her voice hitting me from behind. “Time to get over yourself, Mack. Why do you think you keep coming back to me? We were made for each other.”

  Trying to block her out, I shoved through the throbbing crowd, glancing over at the booth where I’d been sitting. Jace and Ian were long gone. No doubt, they knew the only medicine for me was blowing off steam.

  That’s exactly what I needed to do.

  I shouldered through groups congested in front of the stage, knowing I was being a total dick, but I needed to get outside.

  Get some fresh air.

  Clear my mind.

  I never let myself get out of control like this. Always vigilant. Always at the ready.

  I finally made it to the door, and I pushed out into the night. Dingy streetlamps burned outside the rundown brick building that was a mile and a half from my house. Hardly anyone was out, only a couple getting cozy against the far wall, a single car passing on the two-lane street.

  I turned the opposite direction of the couple, my feet dragging on the sidewalk as I started for home. The echo of the bar seeped through the brick walls, laughter and music and chaos. At the end of the building, I made a right down the alley toward the dirt parking lot behind Monty’s.

  At the far end of it, there was a trail that cut through a grove of trees and led to a neighborhood right next to mine. I’d have to hop a fence, but that sounded way better than hoofing it the extra mile.

  The faster the route walking home, the better.

  My boots scuffed on the dirt, when I felt the echoey silence shift. Something ominous rode on the night air.

  Noises hit my ears, and I struggled to listen, to make them out in the middle of the disorder wreaking havoc on my brain.

  Muted voices.

  Low thuds.

  I kept moving that way, shaking my head, trying to sober up.

  The area was only illuminated by the dim glow coming from a light hanging from the shed at the very back of the lot, and I rounded it to get to the trailhead, eyes scanning. The fine hairs prickled at the back of my neck as awareness crawled
over me from behind.

  When I shifted, the same four guys I’d pulled over yesterday stepped out to box me in against the fence.

  A spike of adrenaline jumped into my system, but my brain was fuzzy and soaked, and I fumbled around to get my phone out of my back pocket.

  Dizziness addled my brain, and I shook my head, trying to prep myself to go up against nothing good. Wasn’t exactly at 100% after I’d drank double my weight in whiskey and was at four to one.

  The prick who’d been driving cracked a grin.

  “Well, look who’s here, big, bad cop. You been drinking?” he taunted.

  Managed to at least get dispatch on the phone, even though I didn’t have time to respond before they were encroaching.

  “Fucker . . . you’re gonna get what’s comin’ to you.”

  One guy rushed me, and I threw a punch, my fist cracking against his nose. I threw a left at a second, barely clipping him on the chin.

  From out of nowhere, I took a blow to the jaw. It gave one of the pricks time to jump on my back, and an arm cinched around my throat just as another guy kicked me in the gut.

  Air busted from my lungs, leaving me gasping. A torrent of fists and feet came at me from every direction.

  Blow after blow landed on my back and my head. On my face and my ribs.

  And fuck. It hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker.

  Pain splintered against the battering that sent darkness clouding my sight. Everything dimming.

  I tried to remain upright. To stand under the attack. Throwing elbows and kicking and trying to break free. Landed a few meager hits. But this wasn’t gonna be a winning fight.

  Someone got me at the temple, and I dropped to my knees like some kind of pathetic offering.

  And I knew, with every part of me, that I deserved it.

  Ten

  Izzy

  In the dimly lit kitchen, I fought to get the wrapper off a teabag. Apparently, wrangling it was some kind of enormous feat.

  Finally, I managed it, and I dipped the bag into the cup of steaming hot water, praying it might bring me some sort of relief.

  My hands were still shaking all these hours later.

  Shaking and shaking.

  Almost as hard as my heart that rattled in my ribcage, this bleeding organ that heaved and throbbed, firing off erratic pulses of regret and anger and torment that tremored through my entire being.

  The house was stilled and sleeping, darkness oppressive were it cloaked the bank of windows at the far end of the kitchen. Branches clawed and screeched at the eaves, like a physical haunting of what had transpired this afternoon.

  How many times had I imagined what Maxon’s reaction might be to learning about Benjamin?

  The worry and the fear and this overwhelming sense of protection that would well at the thought of my boy suffering the cruelty of that sort of rejection?

  My fingers trembled as I brought the cup to my mouth.

  In all those nights I’d lain awake, plagued by the unknown, I’d never thought it’d go down quite like that.

  Anger and resentment bleeding from us both.

  “Izzy Mae.” The voice hit me from out of nowhere, and a high-pitched screech streaked up my throat, just about as quickly as I flew around. One of my hands darted out to the counter to keep myself steady while the other tried to keep the steaming-hot cup from sloshing everywhere.

  “Mama. What in the world are you doin’ sneaking up on me like that? That’s not safe. Don’t you know you have a whole butcher block of knives sitting on the counter? I could have thought you were an intruder.”

  She chuckled a little. “Getting away from yourself there, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe.”

  Okay. A whole lot.

  But I was on edge.

  A very, very sharp edge.

  She waded deeper into the lapping darkness, her face coming in to view. Affection marred with a frown of worry. It was the same expression she’d been wearing all day. She blew out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep. I knew I’d find you down here wearing a hole in the floors. Call it Mama’s intuition.”

  Blowing out a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and wished I had something more constructive to do with them. Someplace to divert the agitation.

  This energy that made me want to run a half marathon.

  Or maybe just crawl the walls.

  “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t sleep, either.”

  Her frown deepened, and she came closer, rounding one side of the island. “I’m so sorry.”

  My brow twisted up. “What are you sorry for, Mama?”

  Sadness left her on an undulating wave. “For letting the boys get out from under me. Mostly for forcing you into this before you were ready. I shouldn’t have done that. I just . . . wanted resolution. For you. For Benjamin. For Mack, too.”

  “None of this is your fault.”

  It was no one’s fault but Maxon’s and mine.

  Dillon had been playfully offended that my old cop friend didn’t want to hang out with us, teasing me that the two of us must still not like each other very much if he didn’t want to stay to eat, while my daddy had grumbled that some people never changed and it was time for someone to stand up and take responsibility.

  But it was Benjamin’s reaction that had nearly destroyed me.

  Poking holes at that brittle place that had always held the remnants of Maxon’s betrayal.

  Home to the sharp shards of love that I was never gonna get rid of.

  He’d been sitting at his window, staring out, and I’d gone over, touched his hair. He’d looked up at me with his sweet, sweet face, and my ever-insightful boy had whispered that he was sorry that he might have scared away my friend.

  What was I supposed to say to that? Truth was, in a way he had, but not in the way that Benjamin was thinking.

  At least, I didn’t think Maxon could be so horrible and low.

  My aching heart gave another pang, a dark misery rising and sloshing, threatening to take over.

  What if that was what had sent him running?

  “What are you thinking, sweet girl?” Mama asked, edging forward another step.

  I inhaled, trying to see clearly through the pain and questions. “I just . . . I think I need to go over there and talk to him.”

  “Right now?” she shot out, a little horrified. “At this time of night?”

  “We’re long since passed worrying about what the neighbors think, aren’t we?” I teased a little, though it didn’t come out sounding all that funny.

  “Izzy,” she chastised with a click of her tongue. “You think I’ve ever been ashamed of you?”

  “Never. You never once made me feel that way.”

  “Good. Because that would wreck me.” She angled her head. “But do you think that’s a good idea right now? Running back over there? Think maybe you both need some time to clear your heads. Come to terms. He suffered a big shock, and his reaction caused you a big blow.”

  The cup clanked when I set it on the counter, my entire body in upheaval. “I’m not running back to beg him for anything, Mama, but I think we both know the way he found out wasn’t all that fair. I feel like I owe him an explanation. An apology. I can’t stand the idea of him sitting across town thinking I tried to trick him or trap him.”

  Her lips pursed. “I get that, Izzy . . . you’ve been the one who’s had to make all the hard choices for all these years. Always protectin’ your family. Doin’ the best for Benjamin, the same when Dillon came along.”

  I huffed out a sigh. “Apparently, I’m not all that great at makin’ those hard decisions, am I?”

  “Nonsense. You have done the best you can, and who those boys are? The love and compassion they hold? That’s because of you and your heart. Don’t question that for a second.”

  I looked at my Mama, emotion bleeding free. “There are so many things I’d do differently if I could.”

  A soft smile pulled to her mouth. “All of us would, sweet girl. We all
make mistakes. They shape us. We learn from them. We make changes because of them. They make us who we are. And all that shapin’ has made you into the most amazing person I know. Someone who is kind and good and deserves to find happiness.”

  “I am happy, Mama. My boys make me happy. Bein’ here with you and Daddy makes me happy.”

  Her gaze softened. “I know that. But I’m talking about joy, Izzy. In life. In something just for you. Whether that’s fallin’ in love or reaching out and taking hold of what you love to do. You think that spark isn’t still shinin’ from you? Just because you’re a mama doesn’t mean it doesn’t still glow. And I know that man broke your heart in a way that is hard to undo, but whether if it happens tonight or in a year, both of you have to resolve that, let it go, so you can move on and find your joy. It’s been holdin’ you back for too long.”

  A gleam came to her eye. “Unless you’re not wantin’ to move on.”

  “Mama,” I chastised. God, she just knew how to get to me.

  She took me by the chin, and she studied my face in the shadows. “But whose joy is forgotten is lost.”

  Emotion rushed, warmth pressing full as I murmured, “And whose heart is free is found.”

  She held my gaze, that vast, endless love shining through.

  The kind only a mother understood.

  She smiled slow. “Free your heart, Izzy Mae. However you need to do it. Whatever it looks like.”

  “Thank you, Mama.”

  She pinched my chin a little. “I will always support you . . . wherever you go. Whatever you decide.”

  She stepped back. “All right then, you’d better go before it gets too late. I expect you home before one. And don’t you let that boy talk you into somethin’ you’re not interested in. Or is that exactly what you’re interested in?”

  She cocked a brow.

  “Mama,” I muttered through the thick emotion, light laughter breaking through. No one could flip a U as fast as her. “You are utterly ridiculous. You know the last thing I need is to go gettin’ wrapped up in that man again.”

  Not that he even wanted me or that I wanted him.

  That would be plain foolish.

  “Ridiculous? I’m just keeping it real.” She started for the swinging door. “Apparently, I’m the only one in this house who isn’t completely delusional. You think I didn’t feel that tension radiating from you two on the porch? We were all lucky it didn’t blow the house right over.”