Fractured Hearts (Shattered Lives, Book Three)

by Blakeley, Rissa

  We made it to the door before we heard footsteps running up behind us. I whipped around, ready to fuck up whoever was heading my way.

  “We’ll help.”

  I looked at what was standing in front of me. “Can you fight?” They looked at each other. I waited a moment. “Hello?”

  “Maybe. We’ve done okay so far.”

  “Can you fill me in a little? Because I want to know that if I get into trouble out there, I can count on someone to fight beside my mate, Thomas, and bring the others back.”

  “Well, neither one of us have ever used a gun before.”

  “It’s not hard. You aim it and pull the trigger.” They looked at me with a blank stare. “Christ. I’ll be right back.” I took off back down the hall to the weapons room, grabbed two double-sided axes, and headed back to the door.

  Elaina opened our door as I walked by. “Henry? Why are you still here?”

  “I swear to you, Elaina. I’m going to fucking snap.” She smiled. I didn’t have the energy to deal with her sarcasm. “What?!”

  “You look like a psycho. A rifle, two axes, and who knows what else you have in your pack and under your shirt. And the look on your face… Killer, but trés sexy.” She winked and gave me a slick smile.

  “I’m trying to be angry right now.”

  “I know. But I don’t like Angry Henry, so I’m working on getting my Sweet Henry back.”

  “Yes, but Sweet Henry can’t go out and annihilate undeads like nobody’s business.”

  “Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?”

  “I do believe I did.” She laughed. “Oh shut it, bird.” I sped off toward the door where Thomas and the two from James’ crew were waiting. “Here. One for each of you. Can you handle these? All you have to do is swing and take off their heads. Make sure you damage their brains. It’s the only thing that will make them true dead.” They both looked each other. “What are your names?”

  “I’m Chris and this is Jake.”

  I looked at both of them thoroughly, memorizing their physical characteristics. Chris had a slim, athletic build, dirty blonde hair, and seemed to be about my own age. He had that All-America football star quality about him. On the other hand, the scarred one, Jake, had brown hair, was ridiculously tall, and had a lean build. There was a relatable vapid look about his eyes, like he had a lifetime of serious shit stacked up against him.

  Jake noticed me looking at his scars. “Car wreck about ten years ago.”

  Nodding, I said, “Let’s go.” I pushed open the door and began the trek back to the bunker. I walked at my own clip, not worrying about pacing myself. The others had to keep pace with me, not the other way around.

  Jake caught up to me. “What are you?”

  Shit. Time to play innocent again. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I think it’s odd you’re maybe the same age as we are, but you are some sort of Rambo whack job or something.”

  I smirked. “Whack job… I like it. I’m highly trained in the art of self-defense and weaponry.”

  “Military?” he asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Would you care to elaborate?”

  “Not really.”

  “Okay…,” he whispered.

  “Listen, I’m not in a chatty kind of mood thanks to your friend, Savannah.”

  “She’s a nightmare. Very entitled. And, just for the record, she’s not my friend. We’re just traveling together.”

  “Well, she isn’t entitled to shit in my house. You have to work for what you get. She keeps up her attitude, she’s going to find herself on her ass out here.”

  “So you are the president here, so to speak?”

  I glared at Jake. “Don’t refer to me in that way. I’d prefer you called me the head asshole rather than that.” He laughed.

  “Henry, ten o’clock,” Thomas said in his usual calm demeanor.

  There was a single undead lumbering around just inside the trees. I pulled my hunting knife out of my vest, Jake watching me the whole time.

  “You’re loaded to the hilt, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea,” I alluded before jogging off and stopping about ten feet from the undead man. “Hey!” I yelled and he sniffed the air. “Come on, you bugger.” He staggered toward me as I drew him out into the open.

  In a whisper, Jake asked, “Is he barking mad?”

  “Pretty much. Watch how he does this,” Thomas said, a hint of pride in his voice.

  I held the knife up and took one step toward the undead. When he lunged at me, I jammed the knife into his head and twisted, hearing that lovely sickening crunch, then he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

  “Damn,” Chris said. I wiped the knife off on his shirt and put it back into my vest. I kept walking without even acknowledging what just happened. “If I did that, I’d be looking for a high-five, a fist bump…something. But he just walks on like it’s no big deal.”

  “He’s a machine,” Thomas mumbled.

  “Remind me not to piss him off,” Jake said tentatively.

  I chuckled to myself as I listened to them chat.

  We walked on for a while until we spotted the herd a short distance away, along with the tire tracks where Gunther skidded to a stop to pick up Eli and me.

  I stopped for a second. “They are going to see or smell us in a second or two. Any last minute questions?” I looked at Chris and Jake. “Watch your backs and everyone else’s. I’m going to try to pick them off. If I have an issue or you see something that needs addressing, then address it.”

  I turned around and took the safety off my rifle, walked about five more strides and took a stance, bracing myself for the recoil. I brought the gun up and aimed down the sight.

  One after another, the undeads dropped to the ground as I pulled the trigger. Not a single bullet was wasted, and it looked to be about twenty down.

  “Start checking these!” I shouted, walking on.

  Thomas pushed forward. “Just make sure they are true dead.”

  Hearing a few axe thumps behind me, I kept walking further ahead, stepping around the true deads. The murmur of their voices in between the axe connecting seemed almost melodic.

  “He got these during the night?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah. He’s good and takes this seriously,” Thomas added.

  It felt good to hear Thomas dishing out the respect.

  Just after we passed through the mini war zone, I stopped. “Let’s rest for a few minutes.”

  After a quick look around the area, I sat and leaned against a tree in the familiar pose—hat drawn tight over my eyes, legs stretched out with my ankles crossed—which told everyone to leave me alone for a few minutes. The only sound I heard was the rhythmic clicking of my laces as I tapped my boots together. Frankly, that was the only sound I wanted to hear.

  Minutes later, my catnap was rudely interrupted by a faint sound off in the distance. I shifted forward, which alerted the other three.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Thomas asked as he approached.

  Waving him back, I held my finger to my lips. Obviously, no one else heard it. I got up and silently walked toward the road, positioning myself behind a broken, rotted tree trunk.

  When I realized what the sound was, I stepped out into the road. Mara, James, and Josiah screamed.

  “Well, well, well. You have a lot of apologizing to do to your sister.” I glared at Mara.

  Just seeing her face made me want to vomit. Thomas, Chris, and Jake came out of the trees to see that Mara, Josiah, and James had made it that far, dragging ass, carrying the water.

  “And why would that be?” she snipped.

  “Eli had an asthma attack while we ran for our lives last night.”

  “I didn’t make the two of you leave,” she muttered with a shrug.

  “Maybe if you could keep your hands to yourself, it wouldn’t have happened,” I snarled back at her.

  “You know what? I couldn’t care
less about that douchebag.”

  “Well, seeing as Lauren was hysterical when we brought him in on the verge of death, I believe she does care for him!”

  “They aren’t even a couple.”

  “That’s the father of her child, correct?”

  “I don’t want to discuss my family’s mental issues with you.” Mara shoved past me, then stopped and turned around. “You do realize you left us unarmed, right?”

  “Maybe if you could keep your hands to yourself, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Gee, there must be an echo out here.” She rolled her eyes, then pointed in my face. “Fuck you, Henry. You know you wanted it.”

  Anger burned through me, like a violent volcano about to spew. I wanted to slap the shit out of her. It took every ounce of whatever patience I had left to fight the urge.

  Yes, it felt good, but I didn’t want her. The only lips I wanted wrapped around my cock were Elaina’s. Everyone else was subpar.

  “Get this through your head. I…don’t…want…you. I get everything I need from Elaina. She is my life and I never want another. Sadly, you don’t understand that you can’t have everything you want. Luckily for you, I haven’t said anything to her yet and will give you this one pass. If you ever do that again, I will tell her and won’t hold her back. Are we clear?”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes again. “Your empty threats mean nothing to me.”

  I glared at her, then stalked off. That was one bird who would never stop pissing me off. She’s right up there with Savannah. She had gotten under my skin and my fuse smoldered. Suddenly, I turned around to yell at her again. I couldn’t stop myself. The anger had control of my mouth.

  “Empty threats?” I barked out a fake laugh. “We will see about that. I suggest you either pack your shit when we get back, or dig yourself a motherfucking grave.”

  I turned back around and stalked off ahead of everyone else, grumbling the entire way. Once everything quieted down, the demons in my head started poking again.

  Liam…

  The whisper made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

  Liam…

  I just wanted them to stop terrorizing me. Swallowing hard, I put one foot in front of the other.

  Back of Gunther’s truck…

  I salivated and could feel the burn of the vodka in my throat, warming the bottom of my belly. I slung the rifle over my shoulder and kept marching on.

  Vodka…

  “Shit…,” I whispered to myself.

  When home wasn’t far away, I started jogging. The call for the vodka grew louder when I passed by Gunther’s truck.

  Without a doubt, the need for a drink before talking to Elaina about Mara was on top of my agenda. Soothing my nerves, calming myself, and quieting the demons before I spoke to her was the only way around it. There was no doubt in my mind that she would leave me over the fucked up situation, and the only way I could face it was with a bottle in my hand.

  Home came into view and I ran around to the side entrance. I locked eyes with Elaina as she pushed open the door for me.

  She noted my seething anger. My chest was pumping hard, but not from exertion…from fear.

  I was afraid of losing the only person that made my life matter. Also, I was afraid of myself.

  “Henry? What’s wrong? Where’s everyone else?”

  “Where’s Gunther?” I growled.

  “I think he’s with Quinn… Henry?” I stormed off and headed toward their room. “Henry?” Elaina chased after me. Before she could catch up, I was pounding on Gunther’s door.

  Pissed, he threw open the door, not realizing it was me. “Seriously, cut the shit. You wake up Quinn… Oh, Henry. Did you get everyone back safely?” he asked me, yawning and jamming his hands into his pockets.

  “Where are your truck keys?” I asked, fists clenched and jaw tight.

  “There’s no gas in it, remember? It died last night on the–”

  I interrupted, “I don’t fucking care! Give up the keys!”

  He narrowed his eyes as me. “No. Absolutely not. I know what you want.” He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and leaned against the door frame.

  “Fine. I’ll just smash the fucking windows.” I turned around and ran into Elaina, nearly knocking her ass over tits.

  “Henry…” She tried to grab me.

  “Out of my way, Elaina!” I yelled.

  “I’m not going to let you by unless you talk to me.”

  She was trying to stay calm, but it was obvious she was on the verge of decking me for the way I was speaking to her.

  “Mate, you need to calm yourself,” Gunther warned from behind me.

  I pointed at them both and raged, “Fuck off…both of you!”

  I tried to dodge her several times. The growl that tore out of me, along with me punching the wall, frightened her.

  “Henry!” she screamed. Again, she tried to grab me and make me stop. People were filing out of their rooms, trying to find out what all the commotion was.

  Gunther, apparently having had enough of my two-year-old temper tantrum, grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed me face first into the wall.

  I struggled, but was able to turn my head. “Let go of me, old man!”

  “Old man?” Gunther snarled in my ear. “Who has who pinned, lass?”

  The need for a drink crippled me, making me lose control of everything. I struggled harder. Even though Gunther still hadn’t regained all of his strength yet, his big ass was holding me still.

  “I’m not letting you go until you calm the fuck down. You hear me?!” he barked.

  “What is happening?” Elaina yelled in frustration.

  “He saw the vodka in my truck last night when we brought Eli back.”

  “Perfect.” She stepped into my line of vision while Gunther had me trapped. “Henry… Let’s work through this. Want to go workout?” I was still raging against the wall. “Gunther, help me get him to the gym. He can do some bag training to blow off some of this steam.”

  I didn’t want to go to the fucking gym. I wanted to get to the truck and down a bottle to make everything disappear for the day. As I flailed around, he dragged me down the hall and toward the gym. It was a losing battle, so I settled down enough for Gunther to let go of me when we got inside the gym.

  Elaina stripped me down to my cargoes and bare feet. She grabbed the athletic tape and waved it in front of my fiery eyes. “How do you want this? The last thing we need is for you to re-break your hand, and you are fouled up enough to punch through it.”

  “Wrist to knuckles, two wraps between each finger,” I grumbled.

  Taping my hands was a tedious process. When she finished, she turned me toward the bag. “There. Get it out, lover.”

  I stared at the bag, chest pumping harder than before. The gears turned in my head, listening to the demons barking at me, calling me names.

  “Henry… Come on. Show me what you’ve got.”

  “I think he’s calm enough for you to deal with. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come get me. I’m going to go lock these up.” Gunther picked up my weapons and left the gym.

  Elaina’s focus returned to me. “Lover…” She held my muscled shoulders. “Punch the bag.”

  “It’s not going to help, Elaina!” I hollered.

  “Just try,” she encouraged.

  “It didn’t help the last time!”

  “Then it will just give you a good workout. You have to do something to get rid of this anger.” I positioned myself into a fighting stance, still on the edge of my shamed reality. Then she gave me the kick in the ass that I needed. “Left jab!” I popped my body, drove my fist out and the bag flew away from me. I jumped back to avoid the rebound. “Right uppercut, left jab!” Elaina yelled.

  Then the assault began. I pounded that bag with a ferocious intensity. It was one punch after another, no break in between. The sweat ran off of me, hitting the floor around my feet.

&n
bsp; The training went on for a while before I stopped the bag from rebounding. I rested my forehead and fists on it, laboring through my breathing.

  Elaina approached me and put her hands on my shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I want to drink,” I grumbled. Then I whimpered in defeat, “It doesn’t work, Elaina. I can’t get the craving to go away.”

  The demons were winning and, at that point, I felt they would always win.

  “You have to want it to work, Henry.” I turned into her and she held me. “Lover, please tell me what brought this on.”

  Wanting to avoid her tenderhearted interrogation, I looked at her with a hunger in my eyes that only Elaina knew. Aggressively, I kissed her. It was all she could do to break free from my grip, but she did.

  While trying to pin her against the wall, she yelled, “Henry, stop! You have to talk to me! Sex isn’t going to solve whatever is going on in here!” She tapped me on the side of my head.

  She was right. I would still hear those fuckers in my head. I looked down for a moment, then left the gym, leaving Elaina alone. She grabbed my clothes and chased after me as I strode down the hall, peeling the tape off my hands.

  “Henry!” she yelled at me, following me the entire way to our room. I slammed the door in her face. I couldn’t face her because I was too embarrassed. “Perfect! Just fucking perfect!” she yelled through the door.

  Plopping my ass in a chair, I covered my face with my hands. With all of my shit in her arms, Elaina muscled the door open. She stormed up to me, dropping my stuff on the desk, and grabbed my hands, pulling them away from my face.

  “Henry…look at you,” she whispered as she knelt in front of me. “Your eyes are full of pain and despair. I need to know what’s going on. Talk to me.” She paused for several seconds, waiting for some sort of response. When she realized I wasn’t about to say anything, she added, “I didn’t refuse you because I don’t want you. I refused you because I want to know what’s going on inside your head. That’s more important than ten minutes of rough sex. That’s not going to solve it. This behavior is scaring me.”

  I was battling with myself.

  Should I tell her about Mara? Should I tell her about my demons or the leftover dark secrets of my past?