The Missing Pieces

by H. S. Strickland

  I could see the muscle in his cheek ticking, showing his aggravation, but I didn’t care. He was going to hear me out or I was going to kick his ass.

  “You don’t talk to a woman like that. Ever. I don’t give a shit what the hell she did to you, but you don’t talk to a woman like that. It’s disrespectful, and I know you have more respect for Kota than that. You hurt her back there, when you were arguing.”

  “Don’t care,” he rumbled.

  I immediately got in his face, and if I were any other woman, the look on his face would have scared me shitless. “You do fucking care. Stop trying to hide it. You aren’t doing a damn good job. What I saw back there was you giving a shit, just not wanting to admit it. Acting like you don’t care isn’t going to solve the problems between you two. Sitting down and hearing her out will. She’s pissed at you for leaving her. She wants an explanation, and you owe that to her. You don’t leave the person you’ve spent years with just because you felt like it. And you damn sure don’t say anything to her before you leave. Like I said, she wants answers. You know them and need to give ‘em to her.”

  By the time I was finished saying my peace the veins in his neck were popping out and his face blanched. I wasn’t sure what I had said to make him go white, but I hoped it was enough. I gave him a small, sad smile and turned back to the house. Right as I was opening the door I heard his tires screeching against the asphalt.

  Ray had just finished opening the last baby shower gift (or so she thought). It was a pack of diapers and some outfits. She was smiling, but I could tell she was in pain from sitting in the same spot for the last hour. I felt horrible, but I wanted her to sit there a little longer.

  I was sitting next to Ryan, and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Go get what’s in the trunk of my car.”

  He looked confused, but didn’t argue. I knew my gift was going to be risky, but I had had it for a while, and knew this was the perfect place for it to go. I just hoped Mace wouldn’t recognize it.

  “Thank y’all for all the gifts. They are perfect,” Ray said with tears welling in her eyes. Mace moved to soothe her, but she waved him away. “It’s these damn hormones. I’m sorry.” She smiled up at him, and he gazed back at her lovingly. I sighed; it was so damn nice to see him happy for once.

  “I actually have a gift. Ryan is getting it out of my car now,” I told her and Mace.

  As soon as my sentence was finished Ryan came through the door with the huge box my gift was in.

  “Could you have warned me it was so heavy, Killer?” Ryan huffed, causing me to roll my eyes. He could be so overdramatic sometimes.

  Ryan sat the box right side up in front of Araylia. She had an excited glint in her eyes, and Mace gave me a puzzled look. Ray didn’t waste another second, she tore into the box. When the present was revealed she gasp, and her watery eyes shot up to mine.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  Mace was next to look in the box and his eyes also shot up to mine. The look in his eyes made me nervous. I was sure he wouldn’t recognize it considering I had it sanded down and re-painted.

  “Where did you get this?” He demanded in a soft voice.

  “Oh, I found it in an antique shop downtown. They have some beautiful stuff,” I told him, smiling.

  “It looks almost identical to the one my sister used to have,” I vaguely heard Mace whisper to Ray. She gazed at him softly and touched his cheek tenderly.

  Their sweet moment made my chest constrict tightly, and my own eyes water. I wished I could tell him everything. Let him know everything was okay. I wished I could hug him, and let him know I was here. That I was safe. But I couldn’t, and it fucking killed me. Every time I saw him he took a piece of my soul. Every time I lied to him it took a piece of my soul. Soon, there would be nothing left of me. But it was the only way to keep them safe, and if that meant stripping myself of my soul, I would. I would do it over and over again, knowing he was safe and happy. I could never tell him the truth. I could never let him know who I truly was. Number one, it would put him in danger. Number two, it would ruin every bit of knowledge about that night he had. I was also scared he would hate me.

  Chapter Six

  Ryan

  It had been two weeks since Araylia’s baby shower. Sloane had been staying over at my place more often than she was at her own. About once a week she would go back home and pack more things. Otherwise, she was constantly found at mine. It was safe to say she had moved in with me, but she would disagree.

  “What do you want for breakfast?” I yelled down the hall, where she was just rolling out of bed.

  It was a Saturday so we both had the day off, so I decided to wake her up nicely. I had taken her panties off slowly so not to wake her. Then buried my tongue in her pussy, and ate till she woke up coming.

  She was so relaxed I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t get out of bed until she smelt the bacon I was about to cook. I had learned in our time together that bacon was one of her favorite foods, and she could eat it morning, noon, and night.

  She didn’t answer my yelled question so I decided to go ahead and fix eggs and toast with the bacon. A few minutes later she appeared at the mouth of the hall with her hair an adorable mess, and just my T-shirt on. I wanted to ravage her again, but I was sure she wouldn’t let me since bacon was being cooked.

  She stumbled to the island chairs, still in a daze, and sat down. She folded her arms on the table then laid her head on top of them. She held one of her hands out and pointed to the coffee that had just finished brewing.

  I chuckled and moved away from the stove and fixed her coffee. I put two creams and a fuck ton of sugar in it, moved to the freezer for an ice cube, and stirred it up. When it cooled down, I placed the cup in her open hand, and she gazed at me gratefully. I just smiled.

  “How are you such a morning person?” She grumbled into the coffee.

  I smirked at her, and put my forearms on the counter to get closer to her. “Well when I get to wake up and taste that sweet pussy, it’s not hard to be a morning person.” I winked and turned back to the stove before I saw her reaction to my words.

  I finished the eggs, and buttered the toast, and then put everything on a plate. “You want everything right?” I asked, just to be sure.

  “More bacon,” she grunted.

  I chuckled again and place three more strips of bacon on her plate and set it in front of her. She immediately dove in. I made my plate and sat with her in comfortable silence while we ate. By the time she was done with her second cup of coffee she was acting like a normal functioning human.

  “I’ll do the dishes since you cooked.”

  “I’ll come help you, baby,” I told her, standing from the island and grabbing our mugs. I walked up behind her and set the mugs down in the sink. Her neck was exposed to me so I took the opportunity to bend down and nibble on it. I bit then sucked until I got to her ear.

  “We could just wait to do the dishes,” I whispered at her ear then nibbled on it. I grinned when I felt the shiver rack her body.

  She turned and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Ughhh,” she groaned. “Want me to get it?” She asked.

  “Um, no. You are wearing next to nothing. If one of the guys saw you like that I would go ballistic and you would be pissed,” I said and grabbed her hips firmly. I took her mouth in a searing kiss and almost forgot about the person behind the door until the knock became more insistent.

  I growled and gave Sloane one last peck on the lips before heading to the door. I opened the door and expected to see one of the guys from work, but instead was met with the last person on earth I wanted to see. Farrah. My ex-fucking-girlfriend.

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “Can…can I come in?” She muttered. She reached up to put a piece of her dull hair behind her ear and I noticed she was shaking, uncontrollably.

  I remember once when Farrah was beautiful, not only on the outs
ide, but on the inside too. Now, she was just a shell of herself. Her once beautiful blonde hair was flat, dull, and losing its color. It was greasy, and matted together. Her eyes had lost all their life. Her clothes reeked, and were falling off her. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. The drugs I had tried getting her off of had finally taken over her life.

  I don’t know why I did it, but I opened the door wider and let her slip past me. When I walked in the kitchen I noticed Sloane was nowhere in sight, thank God. I really didn’t want to her to witness this. She was probably changing clothes and it pissed me off even more that Farrah was here. Had she not knocked on my door I could be ravishing Sloane.

  “How did you know where to find me?” I asked after she had sat down in the same spot Sloane was just eating. It pissed me off, Farrah sitting where Sloane always did. That was Sloane’s spot, she had claimed it. Now Farrah’s stench, figuratively and literally, would forever taint it.

  “I asked around,” she, again, mumbled.

  Sloane came out of the bedroom with a smile on her face until she saw Farrah sitting at the island. Her face instantly became guarded, and she came to stand my by side. She wrapped her arms around my waist and looked up at me. “Who’s our new friend, lover boy?”

  If the situation were any different I would have laughed at her silly little pet name. Unfortunately, I had my cracked out ex-girlfriend in my house therefore I couldn’t laugh. Nothing was comical at this point.

  “This,” I held my hand out to Farrah, “is my ex-girlfriend, Farrah. Farrah, this is my woman, Sloane.”

  Sloane looked up at me and glared. I gave her a look that said ‘what was I supposed to do?’. She unhooked her arms from around my waist and moved across the kitchen. She extended her hand to Farrah, but got nothing in return. Sloane then shrugged her shoulders and moved back to my side.

  “I see you got a new bitch.” Farrah finally spoke above a mumble.

  “Excuse me?” Sloane interjected.

  Before Farrah could say anything else I stepped in the conversation. “Do not come into MY house and insult MY woman. If you have something to say you need to say it then get the fuck out,” I growled menacingly.

  “Can we talk in private?” Farrah eyed Sloane up and down and gazed back at me with a look of disgust.

  “No, we can’t. Anything you have to say, you can say it in front of Sloane. What. Do. You. Want?” I emphasized each word to show that I was not fucking around. I wanted her out of my house, and soon.

  She groaned and raked her hands through her nasty hair then pulled. “I need some money!” She yelled, pulling more hair.

  “No. Now get the hell out of my house.”

  “I’m not gettin’ out until you give me my money!” She screamed.

  “Your money? I don’t owe you a fucking thing. I tried getting you off those fucking drugs, but I see you didn’t listen and upgraded to something harder. You are no longer my problem. So like I said earlier, get the fuck out of my house!” I roared.

  “You ungrateful son of a bitch! I will fucking kill you. You owe me some damn money, I want that shit now!” She screamed back, moving off her stool and getting in my face.

  Sloane took that moment to step in between Farrah and me. Farrah proceeded to start punching before she had realized that Sloane had stepped in between us. This resulted in Sloane getting a punch to the nose. Sloane staggered back, and held her nose. I looked toward Farrah and saw a smirk on her face.

  I growled and marched toward Farrah, but stopped when Sloane put a hand to my chest.

  “Get out of my way, Sloane.”

  “You call me Killer for a reason, right?” She asked. I didn’t understand what she meant until she stepped in front of me and prowled to Farrah. The look on Sloane’s face must have scared Farrah because she started backing up until she had nowhere to run.

  Sloane reared her fist back, and slammed it into Farrah’s face. Farrah fell to the floor, groaning in pain. Sloane kicked her over onto her back and twisted her arm back in a move that I knew had to hurt.

  “You ever come into Ryan’s house like this again, and you will be getting a lot more than a punch to the face. You ever call me a bitch again, and I will fuck you up. Do not come back here asking for money. And don’t ever be disrespectful in someone else’s house. Understand, bitch?” Sloane said in a surprisingly calm voice.

  I could faintly see Farrah’s head bobbing up and down. “Good,” Sloane said.

  She pulled Farrah to her feet, and kept her arm twisted I assumed so Farrah wouldn’t try anything else. She hauled Farrah to the front door and threw her out. Farrah fell to her knees and looked at Sloane with hatred. It was then that I got a good look at Farrah’s face. Her nose had to have been broken, she had so much blood it was covering the front of her shirt. Both of her eyes had already started to turn a gnarly blue and black color. I was surprised and awed at the power behind Sloane’s punch.

  “Now stay the fuck away from here. Do. Not. Come. Back,” Sloane growled, yes it was a growl, and slammed the door closed.

  “Get me some fucking ice,” she told me.

  I ran to the kitchen and got some ice to put in a bag. I brought her the ice and she set it on her nose.

  “Where in the hell did you learn to punch like that?” I asked, even though I knew it wasn’t the right time.

  “I used to belong to a gym, and some of the guys there taught me how to fight. I never thought it would come in handy,” she chuckled awkwardly and laid her head back against the couch.

  “Let me look at your nose.” I pulled the ice bag away from her face, and looked down at her nose. It wasn’t broken, nor was it bleeding as bad as Farrah’s, but she would have a bruise on her eyes.

  Seeing her like this made me want to go beat the shit out of Farrah. I have never, not once, wanted to hit a woman, until now. Farrah came into my house, asking for my money, and then assaulted my fucking woman. It’s sad what drugs could make someone do.

  “It’s not broken, but you’re going to bruise. You need to keep the ice on there to keep the swelling down.” I told her.

  “Can you get me some pain killers?”

  I ran into the kitchen and found the medicine cabinet that housed all of my Tylenol. I filled a glass with water and brought them to her. She gulped down the pills and swallowed the rest of the water.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  “It’s my pleasure. I am so sorry she came in here like that. I never meant for you to get hurt.” My eyes fell downward as shame filled me. It was my fault that Sloane ended up hurt. If I hadn’t let Farrah in here none of this would have happened. Sloane and I would be in the bedroom fooling around or watching a movie.

  “Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t punch me. She did. Do not let her actions cloud your judgment. None of this could have been prevented. You didn’t know she was going to come in here and act like a fucking fool. Let it go. She’s gone, and I’m pretty sure she’s too scared to come back.”

  I nodded, but didn’t believe a word Sloane said. This was my fault. If I had worked harder to get Farrah off the drugs this wouldn’t have happened. She wouldn’t need to ask for money. If I could have helped her more with her depression she wouldn’t have felt the need to get on drugs from the start. Although it didn’t help that my mother was a part of her getting on drugs.

  “Will you tell me about her and how she turned out to be what she is now?” Sloane asked timidly. She didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

  I sighed, and pinched the bridge of my nose. I really didn’t want to delve into that story. It was always painful reliving it.

  “I met her right after I got out of the Marines. I used to do volunteer work for the local library, and she worked there. I would come in every Wednesday and read to a group of kids, and she would always be there. It took about a month, but I finally asked her out. From then on out we were inseparable. She moved in with me a few months later, and I found out that she had severe depression. S
he didn’t have the money to pay for anti-depressants, so she would smoke a little weed here and there when things got bad. At the time I didn’t have the money to help pay for the pills either, so I didn’t really say much about the weed. I just told her to keep it away from our house. Well things got more serious between us, and I took her to meet my mother. My mother was on hard drugs, crack. After Farrah met my mother, they started getting closer and closer. Farrah would stay over there for hours at a time, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but my mother had gotten Farrah hooked on crack. I tried so damn hard to get them both to quit and go to rehab, but neither of them would. I tried for a year, but nothing I said worked. Finally I got tired of it, and packed my shit up. That’s when I got this place. I left Farrah a note and told her that I was tired of her drug problem, and that she needed more help than I could give her. I hadn’t talked to her since then. This was the first time I had seen her as well. I had hoped like hell that she had gotten herself together, and off the drugs.” I placed my elbows on my knees and laid my head in my open palms. I shouldn’t have left her like I did. I was wrong.

  “Lover boy, you couldn’t have done anything more for her, or your mother. When someone gets on drugs their judgment is clouded, their decisions are completely different from when they’re sober. Drugs turn someone into a completely different person. Something huge has to happen before they realize that they are throwing their lives away. And sometimes that huge thing doesn’t even help. They have to be willing to change. If not, there is nothing you can do for them. I’m so sorry.” She cuddled up to my side and rested her cheek on my tense shoulder. It was sad that I was being cuddled by her when she was the one that had just gotten punched.

  I turned and cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry about your nose, Killer.” I leaned in and kissed the very tip of her nose lightly so I didn’t hurt her further.

  It was at that moment that her earlier statement hit me, ‘You call me Killer for a reason, right?’ which caused me to bust into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.