All of Me: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel

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All of Me: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel Page 35

by Jackson, A. L.


  Her giving heart bleeding all over the ground after I’d trampled it.

  But I had to.

  I had to so there would be no mistake.

  She was better off without me.

  What could one dance hurt?

  Everything.

  Everything.

  Ruin it all. And I was the bastard who’d gone after it when she’d warned me she couldn’t get involved. When she’d told me there was more going on than I could see. Then like some kind of arrogant fucker, I’d thought I’d be the one who’d right her world.

  Steady it on its spinning axis.

  And I would. If it was the last fucking thing I did, I would. Didn’t have anything left to lose, anyway.

  Mack sighed and ran his palm over the scruff on his face. “They are painting you as the bad guy here, Ian. Reed has garnered the sympathy of every damned voter in the county. They think the poor guy almost lost his kids over the election.”

  I paced some more. Rage blistering out with every violent step. “It’s right there, man. It’s right there. I just don’t know how to put my finger on it. Everything I need to put that fucker away is right there.”

  Mack studied me while Jace nervously ran his hand over his head. He’d been in the middle of his own bullshit not long ago. The last thing he needed was a repeat.

  “So, what . . . she has some photos that could be construed as incriminating?” Mack hedged, the insinuation that her evidence didn’t prove anything hanging in the dense air. I had little to nothing to go on.

  Especially when a man like Reed made things that didn’t look so pretty go away.

  Disappear.

  My head shook as I tried to calculate. “But it’s more than that. Thomas . . . her oldest. He overheard someone in Reed’s office who was threatening Grace.”

  “Who?” Mack’s entire demeanor went rigid. The guardian coming out to defend.

  Frustration pursed my lips. “He didn’t get a look at him.”

  His eyes moved over my face. “Not a whole lot to go on there, either, man. We have to have something solid to get a warrant.”

  I whirled around, chest nothing but a jackhammer that’d sped out of control. “Night before last . . . I went by Reed’s place in the middle of the night. Lawrence Bennet was there . . . outside his house . . . having a little powwow with our friend Reed.” It was a scrape of icy sarcasm.

  In shock, Mack reared back. “Fuck. Are you sure?”

  I gave him a tight nod.

  Awareness spun. Like the guy was adding it up. Solving a riddle he’d been trying to piece for years. “Goddamn it, Ian. I told you to get away from that piece of shit. He’s dirty as fuck.”

  No shit.

  Same as me.

  “You think he’s involved with Reed in some way?” he pressed.

  My voice was tight. “I don’t know. The only thing I know is none of this sits well. Lawrence has been pushing me harder, and I’ve been pushing back. Then he showed up at Reed’s place the night after I kicked Reed’s ass? Gut tells me something is going down.”

  A heavy sound pulled from Jace’s chest. “Reed knows the whole town. It wouldn’t be that odd for a man who owns as much property as Lawrence does to be an associate.”

  Mack was watching me when he answered Jace, “Don’t know about you, but in my experience, not a whole lot of business goes down in the middle of the night other than the dirty kind.”

  Worry tripped through Mack’s expression. “Need you to tell me straight. How deep are you?”

  “Not deep enough,” I told him.

  But I knew I was about to get deeper.

  Agitated, fucking broken in a way I never should have allowed myself to be, I scrubbed a palm over my face. “Listen . . . I’m going to get out of here. See if I can figure anything out.”

  Mack stood and slowly walked over to me and set a hand on my shoulder. He squeezed. “Think you should lie low, man. With this shitstorm of a media frenzy, the last thing you need is to be drawing more attention to you or Grace. Let me dig. See what I can find. It would be best if you could remove yourself from the whole situation. Let the cops do the footwork.”

  “I can’t just sit idle, man. I have to do something. I know I’m missing something. I can feel it right there, just out of reach.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. “You love her.”

  Agony pulsed through my spirit.

  Grief.

  Sorrow.

  I bit it back.

  “Doesn’t matter what I feel. Only thing that matters is her getting custody of her kids.”

  Warily, he nodded. “I get it. I get it. But you’ve got to be careful. Don’t make this worse than it already is. Gut tells me Reed would love to see you go down.”

  “I’m already down. Not sure he could kick me any farther.”

  Mack sent me a look that called bullshit. He knew my connections went deep, tied to Bennet in a way that was dangerous.

  I stared right back. Promising she was worth it.

  He nodded again. “Call me if you think of anything, and I’ll see what I can pull together.”

  Jace rounded the bar. “Both of us . . . we’re here to back you up. Just . . . don’t do anything stupid. Two of us will be here for you, however you need us to be.”

  My attention bounced between the two of them. “Thank you.”

  Jace shook his head. “You’re my brother, Ian. From the beginning, we’ve had each other’s backs. That’s not ever gonna change.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. Tightly.

  I nodded.

  Mack pulled me in for a hug, his voice low at my ear. “Call me. I’m on standby. Let’s take this fucker down.”

  Bastard already had me on my knees.

  There wouldn’t be any standing.

  Only standing I could do was for Grace.

  I walked out and headed for the door.

  I froze when I heard the soft voice hit me from behind. “Ian.”

  Slowly, I turned, not really wanting to see the pity that would be written all over Faith. The woman was too kind for me to handle.

  Not when the only thing I wanted right then was blood on my hands.

  To get dirty.

  Depraved and wicked.

  The way I’d always known myself to be.

  Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “Here. I found this in the kitchen. Thomas left it.”

  Didn’t think it was possible, but the spec that was my blackened heart sank to the pit of my stomach.

  Chest a fist of heartache.

  Thomas’s tablet.

  I reached out and took it, trying to keep my damned hand from shaking. “Thank you.”

  She looked to the ground, tentative when she peeked back up at me. “I’m so sorry, Ian. I saw you with Grace. With her children. There’s nothing more terrifying than the people we love most being in danger.”

  I wanted to refute it.

  Tell her there was no love lost.

  Didn’t have it in me to tell a lie that big.

  I just opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

  Cold air blew in low. A shiver raced my skin, but it didn’t have a fucking thing to do with the wind.

  I started for my car, only to stop halfway down the porch steps when Faith called out again from the doorway. “They’re worth it, Ian. I know your life hasn’t always been easy, and I won’t pretend to have a clue what you’ve been through. But what I do know is you’ve had to fight to survive. That it never made sense to let your heart go when there was never anyone there who you could trust to hold it.”

  My spine stiffened, and I locked my muscles, refusing to look her way.

  “This place is made of magic and dreams. I have never stopped believing that. Not once in my life. Yours are here, too. I felt it, between the two of you. How real you are. That you both are fighting for the chance to live again. You will, Ian. You’ll live again. That life is right there, waiting to break free, to take its rightful place.” />
  My head swiveled in her direction, and there was no anger in my voice, only pain. “I think we both know it’s too late for that.”

  Faith sent me a tender smile. “Love never comes too late.”

  Thirty-Nine

  Grace

  I ran into the bathroom and dropped to my knees. I vomited so violently I was sure my guts had to be coming up with it.

  Everything. Everything.

  Tears burned and stung where they dripped down my cheeks, and my body heaved and clutched. A tight sob wheezed out of my throat while my insides squeezed in the most excruciating kind of pain.

  I clung to the toilet, knowing I had nothing left.

  No ammunition. No fight.

  How could I fail my children this way?

  I guessed I really had been a fool. Because I was absolutely staggered that Ian had just walked. Turned his back on me in the moment I needed him the most. Maybe I did have the worst intuition when it came to men.

  But I’d believed in him so wholeheartedly that, when he brushed me off, it felt like the cruelest sort of blow.

  Total devastation.

  Ravaged by anguish.

  How could I have hope when the man who was supposed to advocate for us believed there was no hope left?

  Another roil of nausea slammed me, and I heaved again, bringing up nothing, my stomach expanding with the void.

  Sobs ripped and tore, and I didn’t have the strength to lift my head when footsteps shuffled in. And I didn’t think things could get any worse until I felt my grandmother’s heart shatter right there.

  Her grief mine and mine hers.

  “Oh, my girl.”

  A soft hand was laid on my back, stroking down my spine, voice coaxing in its soft timber. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

  I clung tighter to the cold porcelain, the only relief for my skin that felt as if it were on fire. “I wasn’t enough, Gramma. I wasn’t enough. My babies . . . Oh, God, my babies.”

  I doubted she could understand a word I said, everything fragmented and broken.

  An extension of me.

  She hadn’t been home when I’d stumbled through the door after Ian had driven off without so much as a backward glance. I’d originally intended to tell her about what had happened with the kids with Ian at my side. I’d envisioned we’d gather at her table and together we’d form a plan.

  I could feel her trying to be strong, but her own torment shone through, her voice growing craggy and thin. “Reed got to them?”

  My face pinched in agony, and I nodded, sniffling, raking my forearm across my face in an attempt to see through the bleariness. Moaning, I pushed myself back and flopped against the tub. “He said he came to pick up the kids yesterday and they weren’t here. That going to the judge was the only thing he could do. Of course, that judge just so happened to be Jonathan.”

  Anger gusted from her being. “He did nothing of the sort.”

  I could only nod again. There was no surprise in hearing the bastard had lied about that, too.

  It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he’d been having me followed this whole time. That my private life had not been private at all.

  But it stung, just the same, that the man could spew lies and blasphemies and claim it as truth and the world would take it as fact.

  “It doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is that my kids are gone, and I have no idea how I’m going to get them back.”

  She reached out and tipped up my chin. “You dry your eyes, pick yourself up, and remember you have the power to go after what’s right.”

  Helplessness bled free. “I’m not sure that I possess that power anymore.”

  “Nonsense. Of course, you do. Your last name might still legally be Dearborne, but you’re a MacNally at heart. We might get beaten down, but we always get back up.”

  Unable to fully focus, I blinked at her through the haze of misery. “And sometimes we make mistakes, Gramma. Terrible mistakes that are selfish and stupid, and we ruin any chance that we had, and once we realize it, there is absolutely nothing we can do to take them back.”

  Her gaze deepened, and she inclined her head. “Are we talking about that looker of yours?”

  Her words were nothing but a jagged blade driven into my side. “He’s not mine.”

  “You sure about that? Because it definitely seemed that way to me when he came for you in the middle of the night a couple of days ago. Not many men step out like that, not unless they’ve already put their heart on the line.”

  “We put everything on the line. Both of us. And we both lost. We lost everything.” My voice was a wisp.

  She brushed her knuckles through the tears that blanketed my cheeks.

  Unchecked and unending.

  “Don’t you know the bleakest times are making way for the brightest sunrises?”

  “I’m not sure the sun can rise when there’s only darkness left.”

  Her head shook. “The sun always comes. It might tarry, but it will shine. Now that’s a gift we can always count on.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think my life is gonna end up wrapped in a pretty red bow.” I swiped frantically at the tears that kept falling. “Maybe the best thing I could do is give in to what he wants. Go back to him.”

  The thought of Reed ever touching me again made my skin crawl. But my children were worth any sacrifice.

  I’d trade joy for their safety.

  Happiness if it meant I was there, watching over them.

  She huffed out a loathing sigh. “You will do no such thing. You left because you knew that’s what you had to do. Because your children deserve better than that life. Because you deserve better than that life.”

  “But what if it’s the only option?” I whimpered, hugging my knees to my chest.

  “It’s not. It’s not. So, here’s the plan. You’re going to get in that shower and clean yourself up, curl up in bed and have yourself a good cry, and when you wake up in the morning, you’re going to be ready to fight again. Because I promise you, even though you can’t feel it right now, the sun will be there to welcome you.”

  I gave her the weakest smile. “It shouldn’t be possible to keep crying, but I can’t seem to stop.”

  Sadness wedged into the lines of her aged face. She reached out and cupped my cheek. “Tears for our children don’t go dry. Our cares don’t dissipate. Until they’re safe, those tears will go on forever. But you will smile again, sweet girl. I know it. My heart knows it. You just have to believe it, too.”

  Forty

  Ian

  There are moments in our lives when we gain evidence of everything our souls had forever screamed was our truth.

  Call it a reaffirmation.

  An underscore.

  Motherfucking proof.

  Or maybe it was just providence cinching down tight on the collar it had wrapped around your neck. A noose reminding you who you were. Who you were destined to be.

  Changing—becoming someone better—wasn’t in the cards.

  I’d wanted to. God, I’d wanted to.

  A week had gone by, and there I was, in my darkened condo in the middle of the night, responsible for the very thing I’d promised myself I’d never be.

  The joy of children.

  Innocent children who had no way to fight. Children who were sitting across town waiting for someone to be their hero when they didn’t know our only fate was tragedy.

  I knew it.

  I’d known it all along, and then I’d gone and gotten stupid and thought there might be something better out there. Some bigger purpose.

  What bullshit.

  Alone, I sat on my couch, drinking straight from the bottle because the burn that slid down my throat was the only companion I could ever rely on.

  Sure as shit couldn’t rely on myself.

  Grace had to learn that firsthand.

  Most pathetic part was I somehow thought I had the right to ache and hurt and wish there was
something I could do when they only thing I’d hit through the entire week was dead end after dead end.

  I couldn’t find shit on Reed.

  Fucker was squeaky clean when he was the dirtiest bastard around.

  I took another pull of the warm liquid. Wished it was Grace’s hands. Grace’s sweet hands that could chase away any storm. The girl peace and light and everything I’d never known I was missing.

  Missing.

  That’s exactly what this was.

  I was missing her like a bitch.

  Really, what she’d done was summon a whole new storm. God knew that the girl had turned my life upside down.

  The truth was, I’d never have been good enough for her. For them. I knew it to my core.

  Misery beat through my body. Was pretty sure stumbling upon that girl was nothing but another penalty for what I’d done. A tease of what I could never have.

  I knew it.

  I knew it.

  Chest aching, I looked over at the tablet that sat on the couch next to me, that fucking jewelry box sitting next to it, trying to stop the hurt lining my insides.

  I needed to accept defeat.

  This was over.

  Just to punish myself a little more, I pulled the tablet onto my lap and swiped into it, a soft smile pulling to my mouth when I saw the background picture.

  Grace and Thomas and Mallory making goofy faces where they sat on the floor in the bedroom where all the kids had been staying, Sophie with her little arms around Grace’s neck as she clung to her back.

  Grace was angled toward the camera.

  Felt like I could reach out and touch her.

  Like she was right there and nowhere at the same time.

  So damned lonely, missing them so goddammed much, I clicked into Thomas’s photo folder. Invading his privacy, the same way as I’d invaded their lives, an intruder who wouldn’t do anything but cause them pain.

  Had I not chased Grace down that first night, this never would have happened. She wouldn’t have my name to tarnish hers. She wouldn’t have the media going wild with scandalous stories about her sleeping with her attorney. Wouldn’t have this bullshit that made her look like she was indecent and dirty, when the girl had the purest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

 

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