by Bo Reid
Broken Hart
The Hart Duet, Book One
Bo Reid
Contents
A Note To Readers
Poem
Prologue
Kasen
1. Chapter 1: Maple Tree
2. Chapter 2: Yellow Rose
3. Chapter 3: Sunflower
4. Chapter 4: Aster
5. Chapter 5: Amaryllis
6. Chapter 6: Gladiolus
7. Chapter 7: Dahlia
8. Chapter 8: Japanese Maple
9. Chapter 9: Birch Tree
10. Chapter 10: Chrysanthemum
11. Chapter 11: Oak Tree
12. Chapter 12: Sedum
13. Chapter 13: Gerbera Daisy
14. Chapter 14: Cosmo
15. Chapter 15: Iris
16. Chapter 16: Anthurium
Hartley
17. Chapter 17: Purple Roses
Hartley
18. Chapter 18: Blue Rose
19. Chapter 19: Pansy
Kasen
Hartley
20. Chapter 20: Queen Anne’s Lace
21. Chapter 21: Lilacs
Kasen
22. Chapter 22: Birds of Paradise
23. Chapter 23: Pale Pink Rose
24. Chapter 24: Cedar Tree
25. Chapter 25: Coral Rose
26. Chapter 26: Hydrangea
Kasen
27. Chapter 27: Wisteria Tree
28. Chapter 28: Elm Tree
29. Chapter 29: Hawthorn Tree
30. Chapter 30: Tulips
Kasen
31. Chapter 31: Violet Blue
Hartley
Kasen
32. Chapter 32: Palm Tree
33. Chapter 33: Green Roses
34. Chapter 34: White Roses
35. Chapter 35: Lily
36. Chapter 36: Black Roses
The End-ish
Fun Fact:
Acknowledgments
Further Acknowledgments
About The Author
Also by Bo Reid
Copyright © 2019 by Bo Reid
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
California Poppies pictured as chapter headings Photo Credit: Katie Ziegler
Edited by Chanderella’s Editing Service
Cover designed by GermanCreative
Created with Vellum
A Note To Readers
*May contain spoilers*
Dear beautiful amazing reader,
First thank you so much for picking up this book and giving one of my truly favorite book families a shot.
A few things first: This is an 18+ New Adult, Contemporary Romance and is not suited for readers under 18!
Trigger Warnings for assult, both sexual and other, including rape. This book is not meant for sensitive readers, based on early reader reviews these situations are handled with care, but please remember before turning the page that these acts are not “glossed over”.
Just know this duet is a Happily Ever After (HEA) and while our characters might go through Hell, they come out fighting. I truly hope you enjoy this piece of fiction, as this story holds a huge chunk of my black heart.
-Bo Reid
Dedication
For Mark. A person’s past doesn’t define their character.
Poem
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its Roar;
I love not man the less, but Nature more...
-Lord Byron
Prologue
Hartley
Timing is everything. A moment too late and you either avoid a tragedy or miss a chance encounter with your soulmate and it can happen at a moment’s notice. A single phone call can change the course of your whole life. The loss of a loved one, the birth of a new baby, acceptance to your dream school, or the loss of your job.
Timing is everything. You either win or lose.
I stare at those two vivid pink lines until the truth sinks in. A baby. I’m going to have a baby.
A child born from a life-altering event; the silver lining, a ray of sunshine in the worst storm.
A baby that will be my saving grace.
I’m exhausted and everything hurts, but when I hear the crying, I look and see my new baby.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor says as he hands me my son.
He is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given. I look down at his dark blue eyes, his brown hair, his little hands and feet.
“Welcome to the world, Brooks Michael Montgomery. I’m your mommy, and you’re my everything,” I tell him as I hold him close.
I was worried I might see him in my child. That looking at this life would remind me of the pain, but it doesn’t. All I see in his eyes is a precious gift.
A blessing.
The rainbow after the storm has passed.
A new life.
And so much love.
Kasen
“Guilty,” the judge declares, slamming the gavel down and successfully ruining my future with a single word.
The bailiff walks over and instructs me to stand as he slaps cuffs on my wrists. If I’m being honest, I didn’t see this coming. I wasn’t even involved. I had no idea what was going on inside that house, and if I had known I would have stopped it.
I’m a good person. I just have shitty timing and the wrong friends.
This is just one more part of my life that I have managed to fuck up without even trying. I’m good at that. I could blame my dad leaving or I could blame my mom walking out when I was a teenager. The reality is that I might not actively try to fuck up my life, but I also don’t purposely try to make it better. Other guys got out of the neighborhood and managed to make something of themselves.
Now, I’ve got three years to think about all the ways I can change when I get my freedom back. Come hell or high water I won’t end up back here. I won’t so much as get a parking ticket when I get out. That’s a promise to myself. I’m going to make something of myself, and I’m going to be the person I know I can be, the person I want to be.
I’m going to be the change, the person that doesn’t end up back here, the guy that learns his lesson the first time.
You watch me. I’ll fucking make it.
Chapter 1: Maple Tree
Hartley
“It’s okay, Brooks, we’ll be home soon,” I coo to my baby in the back seat.
It’s not a long drive home from the city, but it’s long enough that my fussy three-month-old baby boy doesn’t like it. He spits his pacifier out and starts to scream in protest of losing it, even though he’s the one that did it. I keep my eyes on the road while I reach into my purse and try to locate another pacifier.
“Ahhha!” I exclaim and hold up the binky like it’s a bar of solid gold. For moms, binkies might as well be gold.
I reach my arm around, keeping the steering wheel steady and my eyes on the road, as I pop the binky into his mouth. I hold it steady for a moment while he figures out what I just gave him. When he takes it, I let go and twist my arm back around to grip the steering wheel.
Brook
s’s car seat is rear facing; I have a mirror attached to a headrest that lets me see his face when I glance into my rearview mirror. Now that he is happy again, I glance down for a moment to change the radio station. When I look back up there’s a truck in my lane. It’s heading straight for me.
“Oh, fuck!” I yell as I slam on my brakes and jerk the wheel to avoid a head-on crash. The driver looks up at that moment and does the same, but it’s too late. He slams into the driver’s side of my car, sending me sliding onto the shoulder. The airbags deploy both from the steering wheel and over my window. I feel the sting in my face and left ear. I taste blood in my mouth and feel something warm on my face. The side of my neck itches, but when I reach up to scratch it, my fingers meet a viscous fluid. I blink several times before the tacky substance coating my fingertips registers.
Blood.
I groan at the pain now throbbing in my chest and I hear crying. Or maybe that’s the ringing in my ears. No, that’s crying, a baby crying.
Oh shit, Brooks.
I look in the mirror and see his face is red from screaming, but I don’t see any injuries from here.
“It’s okay, baby. Mama’s got you. Hang on.” I try to unbuckle my seat belt, but it won’t come loose. Then I try to rotate my body out, but my leg is stuck. I’m pinned in the driver’s seat. I reach my arm back and hold his hand.
“It’s okay, buddy. Mama is going to get you out.”
I whip my head over at the sound of a knock on the passenger window. I see a man in an orange jumpsuit that reads Cypress County Penitentiary standing at my passenger door, pointing down towards the outside handle. I take a moment to look around and see a prison transport work bus up ahead with a group of sheriff deputies. I squint my eyes and can just make out the roadwork sign that reads Prescribed Burn Area.
Turning back to look at the man I eye him warily. Reaching my hand over, I check to see if the window will still roll down. When it does, I crack it just enough to talk through.
“My name is Kasen Kingston. Deputy Jacobs,” he points to a deputy sheriff directing traffic away from the crash, “instructed me to come check on you. I’m with the Conservation Crew and have some medical training. I just want to help, but I can get someone else if you’re not comfortable,” he explains through the window. The way his deep voice flows over me calms my nerves.
I click to unlock the car door and he pulls it open. “Are you hurt?” he asks.
“I’m okay, but I’m stuck. Please, get my baby?” I ask him, looking over my shoulder into the back seat. He follows my gaze to Brooks and moves to open the back door.
He looks over the seat for a moment. “I don’t know how to get him out of here,” he says looking up at me, a little more confused then he was a moment ago.
I reach my arm around and twist as much as I can, ignoring the pain shooting through my stuck leg while I try to unlock the car seat from the base installed in my car.
“I can't get the lever, can you? Just press here and pull the seat up,” I instruct him, pointing to the latch connecting the car seat’s base to the chair.
He moves his hand around and pulls on the release lever while lifting the car seat handle. He manages to get it out of the back and brings it around to the front passenger seat, setting the chair down so Brooks is facing me. I reach my hands over and attempt to soothe him while he cries and twists inside his harness as much as he can.
“I know, baby, I know, but you have to stay in there,” I tell Brooks, trying to speak in calming tones even as I am anything but calm.
“The EMTs and fire department are on their way. The deputies called in the crash,” Kasen tells me as he squats down just outside the car. I see him rest a hand on the back of the car seat, rocking it slightly; Brooks begins to settle.
Brooks hates people, but somehow this huge wall of muscle manages to stop his crying with a simple rock of his seat.
“We didn’t smell any gas from either vehicle, so you should be fine ‘til they can get you out. If you want, I can get an officer to wait with you ‘til they arrive.”
I reach my hand out and gently run my fingers over Brooks’ face, then raise my gaze to the man’s eyes.
“He hates people, but I think he likes you. Will you please stay?” I ask.
“Sure, whatever you need.” He gives me a small smile.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Hartley Montgomery, but people call me Hart, and this here is Brooks,” I say, smiling at my son. “Is the other driver okay?”
“Yeah, he was able to get out. He’s waiting in one of the sheriff cars. We saw the whole thing. He was texting and drove into your lane.”
“Yeah, I saw him but didn’t react soon enough to avoid getting hit,” I sigh.
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” he asks again.
“My leg hurts a bit, but I’m sure that’s on account of being pinned in by my dash. My chest feels bruised, but I don't think I broke any ribs,” I laugh lightly.
“You have a cut above your eye, but it doesn’t look deep, and your ear is bleeding, but I think it’s from the airbag,” he says. I reach up and touch where the blood is coming from. Brooks starts to whine and root around, looking for milk.
“Uhh, what’s he doing?” Kasen asks, looking at me, pinching his eyebrows together in confusion.
“It’s okay. He’s just hungry.” Kasen’s eyes grow round and he looks a little panicked. It’s pretty funny.
“Can you look in the bag on the floorboard? There’s a bottle in there. It’s in a small cooler.” He reaches down and digs in the bag, producing the bottle.
Kasen passes me the bottle of pumped breastmilk. It’s cold, but it will have to do. I try to turn my body and pull the car seat closer, but the center console is in the way.
“Could you, maybe, uh… do this?” I ask, waving the bottle around. “I just can’t turn right, and I don’t want to take him out of his seat until the EMTs can look him over,” I explain.
“Sure, but I’ve never fed a baby.”
“Just pop the nipple in his mouth,” I say, and when I glance at Kasen, he is blushing. How cute that this big man who spends his days with convicts blushes when a woman says nipple.
“You’ll have to hold it for him,” I explain. He does, and when Brooks almost immediately spits out the bottle, Kasen looks at me.
“Just keep trying. He hates bottles, and it’s cold, but that’s kind of all we can do right now,” I shrug. He tries again, and again Brooks spits it out.
“Little dude, come on,” he sighs, sounding exasperated. “Work with me here. I'm trying my best,” Kasen tells Brooks. Finally, Brooks accepts the bottle and Kasen lets out a relieved sigh.
I glance over and see the fire truck pull up with an ambulance right behind it. The EMTs jump out of the ambulance and head straight to us. The firemen follow behind them with the Jaws of Life. This should be fun.
“Ma’am how are we doing?” a fireman asks, coming around to the passenger side of the car and looking over Kasen’s shoulder at me.
“Well, I’ve been better, but could be worse, so I guess I’m okay,” I say.
“At least you’re in good spirits,” he says and flashes a bright, winning smile.
“I should probably get out of here and let them work. I can take the little guy to get checked out by the EMTs,” Kasen suggests.
“Will you stay with Brooks until I can get out? He really likes you, and I don’t want him to be stressed out. Please?” I ask. He looks between me and the firemen waiting to cut me out. He nods and moves to get out of the way, taking the car seat with him.
“The EMT will look him over,” the fireman says, “but you can go with him,” he nods to Kasen. “They’re going to need to take him to the hospital, though. We’re going to be at this awhile. Is there anyone you can call to go to the hospital and meet him there?”
“I can call my brother, but it will take him at least forty minutes to get there. We live in Crystal County,�
�� I explain. “Is there anyway Kasen can go with him?” I ask.
Glancing to the ambulance, I watch Kasen walk with Brooks over to where two EMTs are waiting. The female reaches her arms out to take Brooks’ car seat, but he immediately starts fussing. Kasen pulls him back and rests his hand over him gently, calming him in a single moment. I watch Kasen and the EMT have a bit of back and forth, but it appears that they agree to let Kasen stay close to Brooks while they look him over.
“Here,” the fireman says, handing me his phone, “call your brother, and I’ll go ask the sheriff if there is anything he can do about letting that man go with your son. You might have to sign some forms for the hospital,” he explains.
“That's fine and thank you.” He nods and walks over to where Kasen pointed out officer Jacobs earlier.
I dial my brother's number, putting the phone up to my ear as I track the movements of the fireman. He steps up to the officer, and I see him pointing at me, then Kasen and Brooks. There is a bit of back and forth, but I eventually see the officer nod his head, so I let out a sigh of relief.
