Wild Heart

by Jaci J

  I don’t know who the ring was for, or how long he’s had it, but I just can’t do this shit. I can’t.

  My happily ever after was right there, and I let it slip away, again.

  Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I dial the one person who’s always there for me, no matter what.

  “Row. Come back and get me…now,” I say the instant she answers.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No. I wanna leave.”

  Staring at my scarred hands, holding the goddamn ring box, I wonder if they’ll ever touch her again. I wonder if the empty drawers upstairs will ever be filled with her things. I wonder if she’ll ever be in my bed again, or this house I bought for her.

  There’s been a hell of a lot of wondering today and no real answers.

  Grabbing my beer from beside me, I drink it down, feeling angry.

  I don’t know where Emerson and me stand, and I think that’s the worst fucking part. Am I supposed to go after her? Or do I take this time apart to let her decide on what she really wants. Last time she took ten goddamn years. I can’t do that shit again. I won’t do it again.

  My day was spent on autopilot. I was at work, but I really wasn’t. I left there feeling fucking useless.

  Glancing up, I stare at the burnt grass in the middle of my yard, the remnants of Emerson’s bonfire still sitting there and wonder how the hell we ended up here, with her not answering my calls, packing her shit while I’m at work, leaving me all over again.

  I want to chuck the ring, but I don’t, knowing it won’t help. I’ll just be back out here later looking for it.

  Off in the distance I hear tires on gravel. Sitting straight, I look for Emerson, knowing it’s a long shot. A second later, my brother’s truck pulls up and I feel disappointment settle in my chest.

  “Off a little early, aren’t ya?” he asks, sitting down next to me on the porch steps.

  “Couldn’t get shit done.”

  “I wonder why,” he mutters. “Listen, I know you’re havin’ a hard time trustin’ Emerson, but you’re livin’ in the past. Holdin’ that shit against her. She didn’t leave ten years ago to hurt you. She left because she wanted to pursue her passion, and do you blame her? The girl’s got more talent than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  “I let that shit go.”

  He looks at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind. “Really? Coulda fooled me.”

  “How would you feel if this shit happened to you?”

  “I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. She didn’t leave the first time and not tell you. Why would she this time?”

  “What are you gettin’ at?” I ask, taking a drink of my beer.

  “I’m sayin’ your actin’ like a fuckin’ idiot. Emerson ain’t leavin’ you. I might not know her like you do, but I know she wouldn’t leave without tellin’ ya.”

  “Jesus. So what do I do?”

  “You go and find her. Tell her you’re a fuckin’ idiot, even though I’m sure she knows it, and apologize. Trust the girl. She’s never given you a reason not to. Yeah, she left ten years ago, but she came back, for you.”

  “You’re annoying when you’re right.”

  ~~~~~~

  The drive has never felt longer and the lights never-ending.

  “Fuck!” Hitting the brakes, I damn near skid through the red light, the car hitting their horn behind me. Reaching a hand out the window, I flip them the bird. They can go fuck themselves.

  Jesus, I’ve hit every single one since getting in the truck. I don’t have time for this shit.

  I stopped by my parents’ place and went up to the apartment only to find it fucking empty. Empty. Everything Emerson owned, gone. I swear to God the room started to spin after that and it hasn’t stopped since. My heart is in my throat and my stomach is in my ass.

  I ran to her parents’ house next and got nothing. Her mom looked up from her coffee and smiled sadly at me. “I’m sorry, Zac.” Is all she could say.

  She’s not the only one who’s sorry.

  “Go. The light’s green.” My brother smacks my chest, startling me.

  I drive through town like a fucking lunatic, blowing stop signs and breaking speed limits.

  Once I get to that girl I’m gonna fucking strangle her. I’m going to chain her up in my house and keep her locked up there for the rest of her damn life.

  “You sure she’s at the airport?” I ask, blowing down the highway at eighty.

  He shrugs. “I know Rowen is. She checked in there on Facebook.”

  Christ, now we’re using goddamn Facebook to find people. “Does it say where they’re goin’?”

  “No.”

  She better be there. At this point, I don’t even care if she’s planning to leave, because I’m not letting her go again. Not this time.

  ~~~~~~

  “Go! Just leave your truck. I’ll get it.”

  I’m out the door and to the entrance before Justin can finish his sentence. The desperate need to get to her before she boards that plane moves my feet.

  Busting through the doors, I’m hit with a crowd of people. Bodies everywhere, and all of them going so fucking slow. I wade through them. Running up to the counter, I start to ramble to the confused clerk.

  “I need to find out what plane, or flight, or whatever someone is on.”

  “Sir, I can’t give out that information.” Of course she can’t.

  “Please. I’m fuckin’ desperate.”

  Shaking her head, she frowns. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

  Walking from terminal to terminal, it all suddenly feels hopeless.

  “Fuck!” I yell out

  “Zac?”

  If life could move in slow motion it would. Jesus. I feel like I can breathe again.

  Turning around, I walk right up to Emerson and toss her over my shoulder. “I told you you’re not leavin’ me again.”

  “Zac.”

  “Shut up.”

  I carry her through the crowds, people watching me with wide eyes. Some look close to calling security. Let them. No one is stopping me.

  “Put me down. I wasn’t leaving you.”

  “Coulda fooled me.”

  “Zac!” she snaps, jerking away from my hold. I set her down, but keep her in arms reach. “Listen—”

  “No. You listen. I fucking told you I wasn’t letting you go again. I don’t care if you’re done, because I’m not. This,” I motion between us, “isn’t over ‘til it is over.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I was just going away for the weekend, clear my head. I was always gonna come back.”

  “And the ring you think you know about?” Because I’m sure she’s got her theories. I know it had to have bothered her.

  Emerson’s eyes drop to her feet and she gives me a sad shrug.

  “It was for you,” I tell her, pulling her in. Wrapping my arms around her, I sigh. “I bought it when I was eighteen.”

  “It’s for me?” she asks skeptically. There never was, or ever will be anyone, other than Emerson, I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.

  “Fuck yeah. This is it. You’re stuck with me forever, Emerson. You and me. You wanna go back to L.A., you better be plannin’ on takin’ me back with ya.”

  Emerson exhales loudly, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  “I don’t even know anymore,” she sobs softly. “Why are we even fighting?”

  “Because I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  Walking through the airport, hand in hand, I’ve never felt happier. This is home.

  “Hey, Zac?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I have my ring now?”

  “Yeah, baby. Anything you want.”

  Please fit.

  Please fit.

  I’ve chanted that in my head on repeat since the moment I woke up this morning. I’ve prayed about it, worried about, and stresse
d about it. Now I’ve come to the realization that it’s either gonna fit or it’s not, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it now.

  “Suck in,” Row says from behind me. “Harder,” she adds when nothing happens.

  I can’t suck anymore in.

  She tugs and I wiggle. It’s a struggle, but the silky soft lace trails up my legs, up and over my ever-growing ass, past my hips and…success!

  My dress makes it over my belly.

  I want to do a little dance, throw my arms in the air and cheer, but I don’t. I’m too tired at this point.

  “It fits!” we both say in unison, a sigh of relief in both our voices.

  This was the hitch. This was what we were all worried about. Well, Zac aside, he couldn’t care less either way.

  Turning towards the mirror, I laugh at my reflection, letting my arms flop to my sides. “I’m a hillbilly cliché. I moved back to my tiny hick town, got knocked up by my high school sweetheart, and I’m pregnant on my wedding day. Now all we need is a little banjo pickin’ boy to play me down the aisle.”

  Row and Holly laugh. My mom rolls her eyes, and Zac’s mom rubs my belly and says sweetly, “But you’re a pretty pregnant hillbilly bride.”

  I’m a whale in white.

  This is all Zac’s fault.

  “You’re four months pregnant. No one can really tell.”

  Now that has me rolling my eyes. Everyone knows. Zac made sure of that. The minute that little blue plus sign popped up he was ready to post it in the local newspaper, but then thought better of it. That would take too long to get to everyone. So he called everyone he knew, including the local town gossip, Barb Blevins, hoping she could get the word out faster.

  Zac is excited, over the damn moon. I’m excited too, but nervous. Happy, but unsure. This baby wasn’t planned, that’s for sure, but it’s loved nonetheless.

  “Emerson.” There’s a loud knock on the door, and Zac’s gruff voice behind it.

  “Go away, Zac,” Row grumbles, trying to push the door closed on him.

  “Are we doin’ the whole traditional thing?” he asks through the now cracked door, his foot in it as Row continues to shove it closed.

  I laugh. Clearly we’re not doing the whole traditional thing. “I think we blew past the traditional thing when you knocked me up before the wedding,” I mutter at my reflection. “Let him in Row,” I add, turning away from the mirror.

  Zac pushes his way in as all the ladies file out around him, leaving us alone.

  God, he looks good.

  Wearing charcoal gray slacks and a crisp white button down shirt, he looks very casual in the dressiest way.

  Looking up, I find him staring, an enormous smirk on his handsome face.

  “What?”

  “Just thinkin’ about how I can’t wait to tear that dress off you later.”

  My eyes roll involuntarily, used to his need. “We have a whole wedding to get through before that.”

  “We can make a pit stop.” Stepping closer to me, he grabs my hand and spins me slowly. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Even round?”

  “Even when you’re round.”

  Zac’s smiling, the sly and sneaky kind. He’s up to something.

  “What?” I implore, starting to feel self-conscience.

  “I got you somethin’.”

  “If it’s another baby, I don’t want it right now.” Zac throws his head back and laughs deeply. It’s a sound I love more than any other. “I mean, can we at least wait a year?” I ask as I move a curl off my face.

  It’s hopeless. My hair does what it wants. Zac looks like he’s thinking about my offer, but I knew his answer before I even asked the question. Watching his face from the mirror, I smile when he shakes his head.

  “No.” Figured.

  “We’ll see. Now, give me my present.”

  Sitting down on the small chase, I watch him reach out the door and pull a familiar shaped box into the room.

  Instantly my eyes start to well up with tears. “You didn’t, Zac.”

  “Oh, I did.” He grins wickedly.

  Inside the box is a guitar case, and inside that case is a guitar, the exact one I burnt over a year ago. My heart swells to the point of pain. It’s not normal to be this happy.

  She’s a pretty piece of craftsmanship. Mahogany and engraved. It’s perfect. “Thank you so much.”

  “Anything for you.”

  Grabbing my hand, Zac pulls me up to my feet and into him. Kissing me deeply, I feel all his love he has for me.

  “Now, let’s go get married, Mrs. Moore.”

  “I love you, Zac.”

  “Love you more, Em.”

  The End.

  Reader. Writer. Crazy person. Lover of all things home décor and the color black and books.

  Jaci J lives on the coast in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her lovely, but crazy family. If she's not reading or writing you can find her wandering the isles of a home store or hanging out with her monster son.

  She's the author of The Hell's Disciples MC series, The Sick and Twisted Love series, and Wild Heart.

  You can find her on Facebook: https://facebook.com/authorjacij or her website: https://jacijauthor.com