Broken Hart: The Hart Duet Book One

by Bo Reid

  “Helping people. You like helping people, but not just that. You could have helped him by giving him more hours, or overtime. But you’re giving him a car. I bet you secretly paid his mom’s utilities, and you won’t ever take credit for it,” he says.

  “First, I am not giving him a car, he earned a car. And Wild Hart Outfitters is giving it to him, not me. And second, I don’t do this for credit, so you’re right, I didn’t tell him I paid her utilities, and I won’t tell him. I don’t need credit. I don’t need him thinking he owes me anything, ‘cause he doesn’t,” I tell him as Brandon comes over with the keys. He hands them to me, and we say our goodbyes.

  Kasen drives Brantley’s new Jeep back to the shop. He parks out front like I ask him to, while I go around back and grab Brantley. I lead Brantley outside with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, he’s speechless. I explain how it’s a company gift for being one of our best employees since Wild Hart opened. He wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me in close. When he pulls back, he has unshed tears in his eyes.

  “Thank you, for this and for my mom,” he whispers. Before I can deny anything, he lets me go. I give Brantley his new keys and send him out for a spin around the block.

  Chapter 15: Iris

  Kasen

  The rest of my first week is a lot of the same, minus any more extravagant Jeep gifts. Hartley is walking around the store with Brooks on her chest in the carrier, helping a young couple get everything they need for their honeymoon; they’re going backpacking.

  I think that’s probably just Hartley’s style of honeymoon. When they head to the register, she calls up to the front cashiers. I hear her tell them to give the couple a twenty-five percent discount on their order. I smile and shake my head; she’s amazing.

  “Hey, man, how’re you adjusting?” Sol comes up behind me as I organize the hiking packs.

  “To being out? Thanks to Hart, it’s been pretty easy,” I tell him, and he laughs.

  “No, how are you adjusting to working here? Hart can be a huge pain in the ass,” he reiterates.

  I smile. I should have known he wasn’t asking about my parole, it’s just not like him or Hart.

  “Oh, that. Actually, it hasn’t been bad so far. Although, if I have to fold any more shirts, I might get fired, ‘cause I suck at that,” I tell him, and he laughs.

  I look over towards where Hart is, and see a man come up behind her and pinch her around the waist. She jumps with a startled little scream. I set down the backpacks I’m arranging. I'm about to go over there, until I see her turn around and throw her arms around him, managing a hug without crushing Brooks. Sol notices where I’m looking and follows my eyes.

  “Here, come meet someone,” he says, nodding his head, and we walk over to Hart.

  “Ace, what are you doing back here already?” I hear Hart ask, slapping his chest.

  I’m guessing he’s around six-foot-four, and, like me, he doesn’t seem to have missed a workout in years. The black and blue ink from classic prison tattoos snakes up his neck and covers his hands. But his smile is open and friendly, and there is love in the way he looks at Hartley and Brooks.

  “The little lady got sick of me already, so we came home. Got anything for me to do?” he laughingly asks.

  “Don’t tempt me, you know I’ll put you to work,” she jokingly threatens. When she sees Sol and me walking over to her, she pulls on the guy’s arm.

  “Ace, here, I want you to meet Kasen. Kasen, this is my friend Ace. He’s supposed to be on his honeymoon, but apparently he would rather be working,” she introduces us.

  We shake hands, and I see him eyeing my ink, but he doesn’t say anything; I don’t comment on his either.

  “Sol, brother! What’s going on?” Ace turns to Sol with a smile, bringing him in for a one-armed hug.

  “Same old, same old, you know how it goes,” he says.

  “If you really want to get some hours in, you can help Kasen in the back room,” Hartley suggests to Ace. He nods and gestures for me to lead the way.

  “Miss Hartley! You have a call. It’s a supplier, they’re on hold in your office,” one of the girls from the front calls over to Hartley. I don’t miss the way she runs her eyes over my large frame.

  A few years ago, she would have been a no-brainer, but now there's only one woman I have my eye on. She just walked down the hall with the only dude I’m okay with being around her. He goes by Brooks.

  “She save your ass, too?” Ace probes when we step into the back room.

  I study him a minute before I respond, deciding how much to tell him. In the end, I go with the truth. I’m not ashamed of how I got here, only thankful that I am.

  “Yeah, she went to the parole board, gave me a job and a place to live. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably still be locked up,” I inform him. He nods and doesn’t ask what I was in for. That’s something I've noticed about the people closest to Hartley: they don’t focus on the bad things.

  “I’ve been on the straight and narrow for three years because of her. How long have you been out?” he asks.

  “Little over a week,” I tell him. Again, he just nods.

  “I was out for a few months before I found Hart, or she found me. When I got out, I went straight back to my old crew, and stepped right back into that life. I was back slinging drugs before the ink dried on my release papers.” He sighs and shakes his head like he can’t believe he did that.

  “A few months later, my mom passed away. I couldn't stop thinking that she died before I ever made her proud of me. All she ever wanted was for me to get out of that life. To step away from the crew, get out of the hood, and make something of myself. So, I went to every store I could, got a job application, and dropped off my resume. Which I’m sure you can imagine was shit. No one wanted to hire a convicted felon,” he smiles, “No one was willing to take a chance. You know? I can’t even blame them. I probably wouldn’t have hired me either.

  “Until Hartley. This was my last store. I picked up an application and dropped off my resume. Before I got to the bus stop, she called my phone and asked me when I could come in. So, I turned around and came right back here. Nervous as all hell. I used to think I was a big, bad gang banger. I wasn’t scared of anyone until I walked into that back office and saw Hartley. It was like she held my future in her hands, she could give me a new life or turn me away; it was all up to her. Never have I been so scared of someone that isn’t even five-foot-five, and barely came up to my shoulders.”

  He laughs softly to himself, like he’s remembering the day he met Hart. And I gotta say, I know just what he means. He hands me a box. I put it on the rack, patiently waiting for him to finish his story.

  “She didn’t beat around the bush, she asked me about my record as I eyed a copy of my rap sheet on her desk. I still don’t know how she got it that fast. But she had it, and I didn’t lie; I told her the truth about everything. I even told her about the things that weren’t on it. I told her about my mom and wanting to make a difference. And she hired me on the spot.” He passes me another box.

  “She put my ass to work, but she never treated me differently from anyone else. Hartley didn’t give me shit jobs -- she gave me jobs that reflected my experience. If I messed up, she never yelled, berated, or embarrassed me. She talked to me like a person. She figured out what I needed help with to get it right.

  “She even got me to take my GED. She helped me get into an apartment closer to work, and out of the old neighborhood. She gave me an advance so I could get a car. Hartley is the best person I know. She taught me to love the outdoors, and I met my wife right here. Because of Hartley, I have a great life, and a great new wife, and I hope to add a baby to my list soon,” he laughs, “or at least have a lot of fun practicing.”

  “She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” I agree with him. “We met when she had her accident, and then she came to visit me at the prison. She treated me like a real person from day one. Even on the side of a
highway, in a hectic situation, and while I was dressed in a prison jumpsuit, she saw me. And then she went above my wildest dreams and helped get me here,” I say. Ace nods and smiles at me.

  “You like her,” he states, and I just look at him, a little panicked.

  Of course I like her, but she’s too good for me. I wanted something more with her every time she visited me. And now that I’m living with her, seeing a whole new side of her, it’s hard not to wish we were more. But we never will be. I look away and go back to stacking boxes without responding. Ace chuckles softly before slapping my back.

  “Don’t worry, brother, your secret’s safe with me. Just treat her how she deserves to be treated based on who she is. Not her bank account, her name on the side of a building, or her past. She’s got the best heart, but she’s tough as Hell. And…” He trails off, getting a faraway look in his eyes.

  “'And' what?” I ask.

  “Just remember, even though she seems to have led a bit of a charmed life, she hasn’t always had it easy. Sometimes her past haunts her.” He shrugs, turning back to the boxes.

  I want to ask him what he means by that, but I have a feeling that if he were going to tell me, he would have.

  Ace and I finish stacking the boxes in the back just in time for lunch. I’m about to head to Hart’s office and see if she wants to eat lunch together when I hear a loud crash. When I look over, a customer has knocked over one of the book displays. Ace and I walk over to help get things picked up.

  Ace reaches his hand out to help the lady up off the ground. But she swats his hand away, “Don’t touch me,” she huffs.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help,” Ace says, taking a small step back as the lady gets off the ground.

  “I don’t need help from a couple of charity cases,” she hisses, looking over Ace and me with derision.

  “I’m sorry, is there a problem here?” I ask, confused.

  “A convict and a black gang banger's all you two no-good, lowlife thugs will ever be,” she spits. Ace and I exchange a look; neither of us are sure what to do here.

  “You need to leave my store,” I hear Hartley demand. When I turn around, she is absolutely furious.

  “Excuse me?” the woman asks.

  Ace and I watch as Harltey steps up to the woman, “You need to leave my store and never come back. We do not tolerate people like you here. You disgust me. If you can’t see past the color of someone's skin, then that just shows there is something wrong with you, not him. None of my employees, or friends, will be treated with such blatant bigotry and disrespect. Now get out, or I will have you thrown out,” she says. The woman sneers and looks around for someone to come to her defense. When no one does, she turns on her heel and walks out.

  Hartley’s hands are shaking at her sides when she turns around. “Guys, I am so sorry,” she starts, but Ace just pulls her in for a hug.

  “You do not have to apologize. Thank you for that. No one has ever stuck up for me the way you do,” he says and kisses the top of her head. “I’m going to go home, I’ll see you guys in a few days,” he says before lightly pushing Hartley towards me and walking to the back door.

  “Let’s go eat and forget about this,” I tell her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and leading her back to her office.

  We eat in Hartley’s office in content silence, the only sounds coming from Brooks playing in his crib. Just like every other day I’ve been here, we don’t talk about the bigot from earlier. After we’re done eating, Hartley nurses Brooks while I grab the pillows and mats from her office closet. She sets the alarm on her phone, and we lie down on her office floor with Brooks cradled on my chest, and Hartley lying next to me. She quickly falls asleep, getting in a power nap. I could get used to this life.

  A baby on my chest and my girl tucked in close to my side.

  Chapter 16: Anthurium

  Four Weeks Later

  Kasen

  The melodic sound of Hartley’s voice floats down the hall, followed by a chorus of baby giggles. I can’t help the warmth that spreads through my chest as I hear her singing to Brooks.

  I pull the lasagna out of the oven, setting it on the stove top to cool. I’m still an awful chef, and should not be left unsupervised in the kitchen. Most of the time I even remember to turn the oven off when I’m done taking a dish out of the oven.

  Grabbing two place settings, I set the island up for dinner. Normally we eat earlier, and Brooks sits in his high chair with us, but we got back from the store late tonight, and Hartley didn’t want to disrupt his sleep. I managed to get our dinner ready while she fed and bathed him.

  As I walk down the hallway, the sounds of family become louder. I just wish it were the sound of my family. Sometimes I have to actively remind myself that they’re not mine, no matter how much it might feel like they are at times.

  I gently push open the bathroom door, leaning against the frame. I watch Hartley with Brooks. She grabs a water toy, a little fish, and sucks water up with it, then squeezes. As she does, the water sprays up into the air, making a little fountain. Brooks laughs and splashes the water around him.

  He grabs another toy, a shark, and sucks water up, but instead of squirting it into the air, he squirts it right at Hartley. She puts her hands up to block the stream of water, but he still manages to soak her.

  “Hey mister, cut that out,” she attempts to scold him, but I can hear the humor in her tone. I try to hold back my laughter, but a small chuckle manages to break from my chest.

  “Whose side are you on?” Hartley asks as she turns to look at me. She’s pretty cute when she is trying to look angry.

  “Hey, us bros have to stick together,” I tell her very seriously.

  “Oh, really?” she asks, quirking one eyebrow up.

  I see the mischief in her eyes a split second before she turns and squirts me with two bath toys, managing to soak my shirt. I don’t even have time to dart around the corner or put my hands up to block her water assault.

  She laughs before sticking the toys back into the water, intent on getting me again.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” I say, wiping the water off my face.

  I take two long strides into the bathroom and grab her wrists just as she holds the toys up to spray me again. I manage to turn one of her hands so that she sprays herself in the face, but she still gets me with the other one.

  She laughs, and a smile breaks across my face as we lightly wrestle the toys back and forth. I collapse to the ground and she lands on top of me in a fit of giggles. Looking into her dark blue eyes, I manage to pull her a little closer to me just as a large splash of water drenches us.

  Hartley scrambles backward and up off of me, while Brooks laughs and claps his hands. He hits the surface of the water over and over again, causing the bath water to move around the tub like ocean waves and water to spill onto the bathroom floor.

  I push myself up and lean back against the bathroom wall. Resting my arms over my knees, I watch Hartley sit across from me with a lazy smile on her face as she watches Brooks playing.

  “Dinner is ready whenever you are,” I tell her.

  “Okay,” she sighs.

  “You okay?”

  “Hmm? Yeah, just tired,” she says, leaning her head back and closing her eyes briefly.

  It gives me the chance to study her; she’s beautiful with her long brown hair braided, no makeup, and simple black pants with a Wild Hart Outfitters tank. Her only jewelry is a simple rose gold heart pendant she wears around her neck.

  But under all her beauty, I see the dark bags under her eyes and the way she seems to focus on nothing, the long pauses before she replies to a question or greeting. No doubt she has to be exhausted, but I can't help the feeling in my gut telling me it's so much more than that.

  “Hey,” I whisper softly and wait for her to look at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why don’t I get Brooks ready for bed, and you go fix your plate?” I offer. I’ve been here
for a few weeks now and I’ve watched Hartley put Brooks to bed a lot. She even taught me how to get him dressed and change his diaper. Never thought I would be doing that, changing baby diapers but I don’t mind helping with the little dude at all.

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to do that,” she says, standing up and pulling one of the hooded baby towels off the rack.

  I stand and gently remove it from her hand as she moves to cover her yawn.

  “I've got him,” I give her a little push out towards the door.

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” She leans down and pulls the drain plug, then lifts a wet Brooks from the tub.

  “I am.” I wrap the towel around Brooks and pull him into my arms. She plants a soft kiss on his cheek.

  “Be good, buddy. Mommy will be in to say good night in just a minute,” she tells him. He laughs, trying to move his hands around while they are wrapped snugly in the towel.

  I follow behind her as she walks out of the bathroom. I watch as she turns towards the kitchen, and I walk with Brooks into my room to change. I lay him down in the middle of my bed, and keep an eye on him as I strip out of my wet clothing. Pulling on some sweats and a t-shirt I then grab Brooks and take him to his room.

  I lay him down onto the changing table, making sure he is completely dry from his bath before putting him in a diaper and a pair of pajamas. I sit with him in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, holding him close to my chest.

  “You know, little dude,” I say softly, as I feel him rest his head against my shoulder, “I think I could get used to this. What do you think? Think we could convince your mom to let me stay?” I ask him softly.

  Brooks yawns, and his eyelids start to droop.

  “What would you think about that?” I ask him quietly. But he doesn’t respond, obviously. He just closes his eyes, rests his head on my shoulder, and falls asleep. He’s content in my arms as I rock him for a few more moments.