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

by Jackson, A. L.

  “Seemed she couldn’t be too mad at me when she was looking at me beat to crap. Four to one. There was nothing else I could have done. Of course, she has me on the desk for four weeks so I can heal, and my ass is off the case.”

  Not that I was going to just sit aside and let someone else take care of this bullshit. Still, I’d agreed like the good cop I did my best to be.

  “Any idea why they jumped you? Why they found you?”

  “Guess they thought it’d be good fun to kill a cop. Sport. Or maybe the prick was just pissed he had to pay the fine. Who fuckin’ knows.”

  “Why’s it seem like people get more twisted every day?”

  “Because they do,” I responded.

  Though, I had to admit I wasn’t 100% sold on that idea. I’d seen enough depravity and cruelty as a kid to know that sort of sickness had been around for a long, long time.

  “Remember the good old days when kids were fighting over drugs and turf?” he mused.

  I let loose a short laugh. “Think you still have plenty of that to go around.”

  “Seriously, though . . . these senseless crimes . . . don’t get it, man. It’s starting to wear.”

  I grunted. “Aren’t they all senseless?” I asked as I took a left from the main road and started to head toward my house.

  A pulse of anxiousness jumped into my veins. Been pulsing the whole day, really, even though I’d been trying to keep it cool.

  Knowing I was going to get the chance to really meet my son. Praying that old saying that we only got one first impression didn’t count in this case, considering I’d blown that one to shit.

  Another shock of apprehension blistered beneath my skin.

  Couldn’t wait to stand in front of him. Look at him. Maybe even get the chance to wrap him in my arms like I was aching to do.

  Whole time hoping I could be a better man than the one I’d become. The one I’d been bred to be.

  A coward who acted out of fear.

  “Guess so,” Pete continued. “It’s hard for me to process bullshit like that at all . . . but when there’s nothing for them to gain but life in prison? What the fuck is that?”

  “I’m with you, man.”

  “Any leads?” Pete asked.

  “Car from yesterday was abandoned down on 5th. Baren and Dominguez went to the prick’s house this morning. Loser lives in his mom’s basement. Of course, she claims she hasn’t seen him since yesterday.”

  “Typical.”

  “Yup. But we’ll get them.”

  These cases were easy. Four idiots. One of them would make a mistake. Wouldn’t be all that hard to hunt them down.

  “So, who’s the girl?”

  My heart thudded with his abrupt change of subject, and I took the last right into my neighborhood.

  “Izzy.” Her name was like a rough stroke of lust running off my tongue.

  “Know her name, asshole. I want to know what she means to you.”

  She means everything.

  Couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not when I knew she wasn’t ready. So, I gave him the most basic truth. “My oldest friend.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Your friend? Didn’t look like a friend to me. Thought I was going to have to stop you from humping her leg.”

  I blew out a strained sigh. “Not like that.”

  “Really.”

  “Nope.”

  He sobered. “Ahhh,” he finally drew out. “Always wondered.”

  “Wondered what?” Came out harsher than I intended.

  He chuckled in disbelief. “Come on, man. You think it’s not obvious something’s haunted you? The way you live your life like it doesn’t matter? Tell me, does it matter now?”

  Last thing I wanted was to get into this with him. Jace and Ian blowing up my phone with texts all day was bad enough.

  Both of them stricken that they’d left and I’d been jumped. Then the speculations had started firing when I’d finally admitted that Izzy had come.

  “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

  “Hot date?” he razzed.

  “You want your ass kicked?”

  He laughed again. “Whatever, Mack.” He paused, tone sobering when he said, “That girl seemed sweet. She’s not anything like Clarissa. Be careful.”

  No. He was right. She wasn’t a thing like Clarissa.

  “Talk to you later.” I ended the call before he could get in another word.

  I jumped out of my Suburban, getting ready to race inside so I could change my clothes.

  Excited.

  Antsy.

  Nervous as hell.

  Spent my life thinking I couldn’t have this kind of joy, coming to terms with the fact that I had to live with that hollowed out vacancy that howled inside of me.

  With the pain of letting her go.

  With the regret of the way I’d done it.

  Now, that joy was right there, waiting for me to reach out and take it.

  It was the kind of joy I’d only ever found in that girl.

  Starting up the two side steps that led onto the porch, I came up short when I noticed my truck in my periphery. I blinked, thinking I was seeing things.

  What the hell?

  All the side windows were busted in, metal beat to shit, but it was what was spray-painted on the side of the truck that had a cold slick of apprehension seeping beneath my skin.

  Pigs get slaughtered.

  Disquiet billowed in the late afternoon air, and I instantly had my hand on the gun strapped to my side, eyes darting everywhere as I slowly edged back down that way, pulse speeding and boots crunching on the gravel.

  Warily, I peered into my truck.

  A rugged gray brick sat in the seat among the tiny squares of broken glass.

  Awareness prickled at the back of my neck, hairs lifting as those dark places heaved.

  Ominous. Menacing.

  Threat written in black scratch.

  Die cop, die.

  Disgust knotted my stomach, and my throat locked up tight.

  I slowly let my gaze move over my shoulder and across my front yard. Hot air whipped, and the trees rustled.

  My ears filled with the echo of children playing down the street.

  Innocent.

  But I could feel it.

  Something sinister rising in the air.

  Knew it had to be the fuckers from last night. Had no idea how they’d found me. Why they’d be so stupid to come around here. Only thing I knew was I was going to track them down. Make them pay. Stop them before they had a chance of getting close to me or my family.

  For the first time in years, I truly had something to lose.

  Fifteen

  Mack

  I did my best to cool the fire in my blood as I rounded the last turn up the bumpy lane.

  A million emotions had chased me down as I’d taken the thirty-minute drive to her house.

  Anger and rage over the threat that had been made, purposed and directed at me.

  A stark reminder of my life.

  The danger that lurked at every fucking corner.

  Another reason I’d committed to not having a family, refusing to drag anyone into my mess.

  Fact that I already had a family waiting at that house and those boys didn’t even know it only doused that disorder in gas.

  Izzy the match.

  A slew of questions whirled, heart heavy with dread, nerves frazzled with this eagerness all at the same damned time.

  Fuck, I was gonna lose it before I even got there.

  Two seconds later, that big house came into view.

  I pulled my Suburban to a stop behind Izzy’s car, considering my truck was toast. A tow had come to haul it away so they could dust it, confirm my suspicion of who’d been responsible.

  Before I let myself spiral any farther, I jumped out and strode across the bricked walkway. I took the porch steps in two bounds.

  Heart knocking at my ribs, I rapped at the door.

  Uneasily, I shifted on my f
eet, trying to beat back the anxiety.

  But I could feel it rising. Reaching a boiling point. Getting ready to blow.

  Once I walked through that door, nothing in my life was going to be the same.

  The feeling only escalated when metal screeched and the lock was turned, and I felt myself close to losing my mind.

  The door a cracked open. Izzy slipped out of it and quietly clicked it shut behind her.

  A spike of that energy streaked through my blood, and my guts twisted in want, nothing but a steely need that hardened every cell in my body.

  Swore to God, she nearly bowled me over.

  My eyes raked over her, head to toe, and the girl was fighting one of those blushes, all nervous and agitated, the same way as she’d been earlier at the office.

  Took everything I had not to reach out and stroke the color with my fingertips.

  Caress it with my mouth, tongue thirsting to get a taste.

  She’d changed into this flowy, black dress that had tiny yellow flowers all over the print, soft and sexy and fitted just right, a little plunge at the neckline that revealed next to nothing but teased me into next week.

  She peeked up at me, teeth working at that bottom lip, nerves rolling through her slight body.

  Emotion held fast to those hazel eyes, and I was pretty sure she was every bit as terrified as me.

  Two of us standing at a precipice on the opposite sides, getting ready to take the dive together.

  “Hey,” she whispered beneath her breath, and I was wanting to lean in, inhale the word, her breath and her light and the sun.

  Shit.

  I was completely fucked.

  I needed to get my shit together before I did something stupid like drop to a knee and ask her to marry me.

  Bet she’d love that.

  “Hey,” I murmured back.

  Smooth.

  But there I was, tongue tied, heart fisted.

  “You came.” Hope twisted through the lines bunched on her forehead, and she tipped her face up toward me, studying me like I might be a riddle to solve.

  I itched, wanting to reach out and trace the shape of her face.

  That jaw and those lips.

  Maybe dot a kiss or two to her eyes.

  “Didn’t actually think I wouldn’t show, did you?” My voice hinted at a growl.

  At the desperation I could feel lining my bones.

  Her throat trembled when she took an uneasy swallow. “I guessed after yesterday, I thought you might have some reservations.”

  I edged forward, erasing almost all the distance between us, our hearts a thunder in what was left, the bare space alive.

  Energy kicking.

  I angled my head. “And after what happened last night and this morning?” The words dropped to a promise. “After I came by your work?”

  There was something to that one, the jealousy I couldn’t seem to keep contained, no matter how hard I tried.

  Okay.

  Wasn’t trying at all.

  Figured I’d better make my stance known before some slippery asshole snatched up the best girl in the world.

  She released a trembling roll of laughter, although there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of amusement to it. She peeked up at me. “So maybe it’s my own questions that had me worried you might be having second thoughts.”

  “You don’t trust me.” It was a statement.

  Of course, she didn’t. She didn’t have a reason to.

  Not yet.

  Just prayed I’d be good enough to prove to her that she could.

  Lines dented her forehead. “I think the real problem is how quickly I’m offering that trust to you.”

  Some shape of relief filled my exhale, and I leaned even closer, this girl coming on like a drug.

  Intoxicating.

  Wild jasmine and the sun.

  I sucked it down, and she was shivering as I pressed my mouth close to her temple and whispered, “I’m fucking scared, too.”

  She leaned back against the door, like she was searching for space. Only thing it did was make me want to press her to it, slide my palms up the bare flesh of her thighs barely concealed by that dress.

  Her head rocked back on the wood, and it put that striking face on full display, her mouth a mere breath away. “We don’t have the luxury of bein’ scared, Maxon. This is real life. My children’s lives. My children who are my entire world. And if you step through this door, that means I’m allowing you to be a part of it. That I’m taking that risk. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Fear stretched tight across my chest. More glaring was the determination and devotion that covered it. “There’s nothing more that I want than to be a part of that world.”

  I wavered for a second before I asked, “What did you tell them about what happened yesterday?”

  “I told them that you weren’t feelin’ well and had to go home, but you were doing better today.”

  Her voice was a wisp. Close to a plea.

  A flutter of soft amusement pulled at one side of that mouth that was making me crazy. “Dillon thinks we don’t like each other much.”

  Couldn’t help the draw, just . . . needing to touch. I reached out and took the first two fingers on her left hand, and I swung them between us.

  A simple touch that was nothing but a wildfire.

  Goddamn.

  My heart leapt, spirit all too quick to get on board.

  This was the way it was supposed to be.

  She gasped in surprise—because I’d had the audacity to do it or from the shock of energy that went racing, I didn’t know. “Problem’s never been how much I like you, Little Bird.”

  Flustered, Izzy shifted, pulled her fingers away, and cleared her throat. “This isn’t about us,” she reminded me, though I could feel the need radiating from her soft, flushed skin.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Maxon . . .”

  Blinking a bunch of times, she glanced away before she looked back at me, a shield visibly coming up, the girl trying with everything to block me out.

  “We’d better get in there. The boys are probably bouncing from the walls by now. Can’t believe they actually minded this time and stayed inside.”

  Softness filled her gaze. No doubt, that expression was reserved for her boys.

  “They’re really, really excited to meet you, Maxon. Please, don’t let them down. I know Benjamin is your son, but Dillon doesn’t know anything different than Benjamin does. Try . . .” Her brow pinched. “Try to treat them the same, if you can, if only for tonight.”

  A growl rushed up my throat, and I pushed forward, eclipsing her as I towered over her tiny body.

  Shock had her gasping a tiny sound, and it was taking everything I had not to grab her.

  Hold her.

  Let loose all the words that were burning on my tongue.

  Figured there were only a few that were appropriate right then. “They’re your children, Izzy. Yours. A part of you. How could I not love them both?”

  Redness flashed across her defined cheeks.

  I wanted to kiss her so damn bad my guts hurt.

  Her head shook.

  “Don’t stand here and make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I want to be in my son’s life, Izzy. Be the kind of father he deserves.” It was a groan, and I was pressing closer, so close that I could feel the erratic thrum of her heart.

  I nudged her jaw with my nose, inhaling as I went. “Want to be the man you deserve.”

  “Maxon,” she whimpered.

  “Let’s go inside, Izzy Baby. I’m about two seconds from getting very, very distracted, and meeting my son needs to be my priority right now.”

  “Damn you, Maxon Chambers.”

  I grabbed her hand and pressed her knuckles to my lips. “Was damned without you. Took my first real breath in years the second I saw you standing in that store.”

  She stared at me, that connection pinging between us, the air thin.
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br />   “Let’s go inside, Izzy.” My voice roughened. “I want to meet my son.”

  Trembling, she reached back and turned the knob, and she ducked her head as she pushed it open and ushered me inside ahead of her.

  A surge of warmth covered me.

  Remembering this place.

  These walls.

  A sanctuary.

  Peace.

  It was all clouded by the last time I’d been in this room. The horror of what had gone down.

  I gulped around the memory of it, knocked out of the stupor when the little guy who’d floored me yesterday came barreling down the steps from the top floor, inciting a riot with every step.

  Kid had a messy mop of dark blond hair that bounced around his chubby face.

  Joy radiated from his spirit.

  And it was clutching mine, holding me in a tight fist.

  Emotion sloshing like a flood.

  Coming at me from every direction.

  Bright and dark. Beautiful and ugly. Hopeful and sick.

  Standing there, it all fell over me, why I’d pushed Izzy away in the first place. Wondered what had changed. Petrified I wasn’t any better than I’d been then.

  But I was determined to be, whatever it took.

  Izzy was clearly worrying over the same thing, the girl chewing on her thumbnail as she shifted on her feet.

  Ready to intervene at a second’s notice.

  Become a physical barrier between me and her kid if that’s what it required.

  Hurt, but I got it.

  Accepted it.

  Dillon had his hand on the railing as he flew down. Somehow, his words flew faster. “Mr. Chambers. You came! Are you feeling better? Mom said you got sick. Do you hate being sick? Nana said that old people get sick all the time and need medicine. Are you old? You don’t look old. Do you need medicine?”

  Halfway down, he skidded to a stop, and his brown eyes grew wide with shock when he caught sight of me.

  Bruises littering my face. Bandage over my eye. With everything else, I’d almost forgotten about what had gone down last night.

  He gaped at me for a second before he shot back into action. “What happened to you? Did you get in a fight? Did you have to arrest someone? Were they bad?”

  Felt like I’d been swept up in another one of those tornadoes. A perfect disarray touching down, kid shifting everything in his path.