A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

by Unknown

  “Are you kidding me? You raised more money than I ever thought possible. You turned this into a real charity. Because of you, hundreds of little girls are going to get to realize their dreams.”

  “Because of Sophia,” she corrected.

  She gave me a bittersweet smile as I glanced at the placard she’d had created for the foundation. Sophia’s Shoes. A nonprofit that would provide underprivileged children the opportunity to participate in ballet.

  While it may have been a small kindness to the world, it was something I was incredibly proud of. One of the only good things I’d ever really accomplished in my life, I was committed to seeing the foundation grow and prosper.

  The event organizer who’d volunteered her time strode up, looking completely professional in her black skirt suit as she glanced at her watch.

  “It’s time,” she announced. “Shall we ladies?”

  Nicole and I glanced at each other and smiled nervously as we walked towards the stage. The doors drew open and a hundred little girls and their parents spilled into the room, filling it with laughter and light. They all took their seats and bounced around happily as they waited.

  The event organizer took to the podium first, thanking everyone for coming and making her introduction.

  “And now, if you’ll all give a big round of applause for the creators of this lovely foundation, Miss Brighton Valentine and Nicole Baker.”

  We both walked up to the podium, and I fidgeted while Nicole spoke first. Though she claimed to be just as nervous, she was a little better at this stuff than I was. I was happy to sit back and remain in the shadows, but she insisted this was something I needed to do. Something we needed to do together.

  I barely heard her speech before she handed the microphone to me, and I cleared my throat as I tried to keep myself together.

  “Thank you,” I stumbled over the words. “Um, thank you again for coming today. This project is something that started small. In memory of a little girl whose life was cut short…”

  My eyes filled with tears and I had to pause for a moment as Nicole sniffled beside me. “This is obviously something that is very bittersweet, and while I never had a chance to meet Sophia Lockhart, I do hope this foundation will do her memory justice…”

  My words trailed off as I connected to a pair of blue eyes in the audience staring back at me. They were overflowing with more emotion and pain than I’d ever seen before, and I nearly choked as I tried to wrap it up.

  “So if you will please follow the instructions on your cards, and the lovely ladies at the tables will help you to get signed up.”

  Nicole pried the microphone from my hand and turned it off, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Ryland. I hadn’t heard from him in over two weeks. As much as I’d told him that was what I wanted, it was a complete lie. I missed him so much. And now, without even his texts to fill the void, my world was emptier than it had ever been.

  “What’s he doing here?” Nicole whispered. “How did he find out?”

  I couldn’t reply. My throat burned, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the glassiness of his. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and I felt like I was betraying him somehow. I started to question everything that I was doing when he walked from the room without another glance.

  “It’s okay,” Nicole’s voice wobbled. “It’s better this way. He needs time to process it. It’s good that he’s not here.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ryland

  Whiskey annihilation.

  The articles blurred together, and I took deep satisfaction in that. I had no inclination to keep reading them. To keep dredging up these horrible… emotions? And yet I was impressed with the publicity Nicole garnered for the event. She’d never worked so hard on any project I’d given her over the years.

  She was dedicated to the cause. I was dedicated to seeing this bottle of Johnnie Walker dry by sunrise. It was Brighton who thought of this. She’d hit me right in the tiny fissure of my armor. Hell if I knew how she kept doing that. The million-dollar question was to love or hate her for it.

  Course, I loved her for it, sap that I was.

  So typical of the little peach, trying to make amends for the sins of her father. It couldn’t be done. Nothing would bring Sophia back. Only death could purge those last moments from my mind. Relax Freud, I wasn’t referring to her fucking cockroach of a brother. I was talking about myself. And no, I wasn’t suicidal either.

  But goddammit if she didn’t make me question it sometimes. The gaping Brighton-shaped hole she’d left in my life couldn’t be patched up with a first aid kit or any amount of aged whiskey. The Montagues and Capulets had nothing on us. Star crossed lovers, were we doomed from the start?

  I couldn’t accept that. I’d write her odes upon odes if she wanted me to. They’d be pitiful, of course. I could open up to her. Allow her a glimpse of my pain this time. She’d feed from it, because she thought she could fix me.

  She’d always believe there was light in the darkness. That was my angel. Even when she was on her knees-filled with my darkness-she was still shining bright. My Siren’s song, my exposed nerve. She lured me in and made me feel. And then she left me to perish.

  Christ, I needed her right now. Fear had come-a-knocking, whispering that I mightn’t ever have her again. It was bound to bring on childish antics and tantrums of epic proportions the longer she kept this charade up.

  There was no way I could just let her go. The last time I’d even entertained such a hellish notion popped into my head. She’d wrecked her bracelet and coaxed my personal demons from their shadowy lairs. The terror on my face that day was irrefutable, and I’d shown my hand before I intended. So, I did what any self-respecting male would do in my situation. I pouted. She came to me on her own that time-on her knees, no less. It only took my silence to bring her back.

  I contemplated if it’d work now. Chances weren’t good. I’d fucked up plenty of times in my life (shocking, I know), but this was unchartered territory. How do you get someone to forgive the unspeakable? How do you even look at yourself knowing you almost killed the woman you love?

  I couldn’t tell you exactly, I’d been avoiding my reflection since it’d happened.

  She was slipping through my fingers. A tiny dot in the ocean, I stood helpless on the shore and watched her drift away. I didn’t have a life vest, but I’d swim to her if she’d let me.

  If she’d let me?

  Jesus H. Christ. Were you listening to this shit? When did I become that guy? Ten months ago, I’d taken her without apology. Laid down the rules and staked my claim like the selfish prick I was.

  You see? You see what she did to me?

  Fucks sake. She’d turned me into a pussy. Spouting poetic nonsense at four in the frigging morning. Someone get me a handgun so I could cease with the dramatics.

  Swiveling around in my chair, I kicked my heels up on the desk. I was just drunk enough not to care about the marks. Rocking back and forth, the creaking of leather filled the stark silence of the office where I spent entirely too much time.

  The way I saw it, I had one of two choices. Go in guns blazing, or slow and cautious. While guns blazing always worked in the past, I wasn’t certain it’d play out in my favor this time. No doubt about it, Brighton enjoyed the dominant and even slightly sadistic parts of me. She expected them. But perhaps that tactic was doing more harm than good at this point.

  I’d show her it didn’t always have to be that way. I could bend. A little. Maybe. Okay, I’d try.

  Better?

  I retrieved my phone and scrolled through the contacts until I found my publicist. Sophia’s Shoes was important to Brighton. Possibly, it was important to me too. I hadn’t a strong opinion on that yet. Either way, I’d throw everything I had at this.

  Chapter Ten

  Brighton

  It had been a week since I’d last seen him. The hole in my heart was growing bigger every day, along with our baby.

  I didn’t
know if this pain was ever going to end, but I wished it would. I wished that I could forget him. That I could just stop loving him. A part of me wondered if him and Brayden were still trying to tear each other apart, but I wouldn’t let myself think about it. I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t healthy.

  So when my phone rang, and it registered Brayden’s number, I didn’t pick up. Since I’d been released from the hospital, the only person I wanted to talk to was Nicole.

  The phone went to voicemail, only to start ringing again. And again. And by the fourth time, I couldn’t ignore the tightness in my chest as I answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Brighton,” Brayden breathed a sigh of relief. “Please don’t hang up.”

  “I’m not,” I said quietly. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “I know things have been crazy. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to.”

  I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes. “What is it?”

  “Norma-Jean has been missing for over a month now,” he said. “I think… I think Ryland might have…”

  “Just stop,” I grated. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

  Brayden did as I requested though I could tell by his breathing he was irritated.

  “How do you know she’s missing?” I asked calmly. Too calmly. I was getting far too used to calls of this nature.

  “Because I haven’t heard from her,” he groused. “Her phone’s disconnected, and nobody else has seen her either.”

  “She said she was staying with a cousin in Springfield.” My voice was light though the feeling in my gut wasn’t as positive.

  “Yeah, I’ve talked to her,” Brayden replied. “She said she was there for a week and then she split. Hasn’t heard from her since.”

  I wrung my hands together as I paced back and forth in the tiny apartment I shared with Nicole. After paying the rent for the next six months in advance, I’d been living off fumes. I didn’t have enough money to get to Illinois. I would have borrowed the money from Nicole if I could, but she didn’t have it either. We were both in the same boat, and it was sinking fast.

  But there was one option, even though I didn’t want to use it.

  I pulled out the credit card with both Ryland’s name and mine printed on it and glared at it for a long pause.

  “Are you still there?” Brayden asked.

  “Yes,” I answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I hung up the phone and started to look at flights. As I typed the credit card number into the payment box, I told myself that even if I had to start scrubbing toilets for a living, I would find a way to pay it back.

  ***

  When I walked down to the curb an hour later, I was shocked as hell to see Ted standing there as if he were waiting for me.

  “What are you doing here?” I glanced around suspiciously.

  “Mr. Bennett isn’t here,” he said quickly, and obviously under instruction. “But he sent me to see that you are escorted to see your mother safely.”

  “Excuse me?” I winced. “But how…”

  The credit card.

  Of course he knew what I was booking the flight for. And if he didn’t have my address before, I’d just handed it to him on a silver platter. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  “Where is she?” I demanded.

  Ted held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can assure you, she’s safe and sound. I’m only here to drive you, Miss Valentine. So if you’ll please get in the car…”

  I crossed my arms and glared. “How do I know I can trust you to take me to her?”

  Poor Ted didn’t stand a chance against my hormones or my emotions today.

  “I guess you don’t know for certain,” he admitted. “But I give you my word, if that makes any difference.”

  He looked so distraught that I’d lashed out at him that I felt a little bad. So reluctantly, I climbed into the car.

  “Okay, but I swear to you Ted, if I see Ryland, I have the police on speed dial.”

  “I don’t doubt that, Miss.” He bowed his head and shut the door.

  Like the handful of other times he’d driven me, he put on some soothing classical music. It did nothing to calm me as I bounced my knee up and down on the leather seat impatiently. We drove through the city and started to wind our way into a more suburban area where the houses became fewer and farther apart. It was making me nervous, and I clutched my phone as I called out to Ted.

  “This isn’t the way to the airport.”

  “No, Miss Valentine, it isn’t,” he replied calmly. “Your mother is here in California. Please, just be patient.”

  Being patient was the last thing I wanted to do. And Norma in California? I was going to have to see it to believe it. But I held on for a little longer, at least until we pulled up to a gated area of some sort of mansion in the hills.

  “What is this place?” I asked.

  Ted didn’t hear me as he spoke into the intercom. Whatever he said caused the gate to swing open, and he drove right on through. The car stopped in a circular drive surrounded by greenery and an ornate water fountain out the front. Whatever this place was, it was too big to be a house, but it didn’t look like a hotel either. Ted got out to open my door and gestured me towards the large glass doors at the top of the staircase.

  “I’ll be waiting here for you Miss.”

  “But… I don’t even know what this place is,” I protested.

  A strange woman walked by and gave me a little wave, followed by a few other people I didn’t recognize. They were all dressed in nice clothing, but there was a weird vibe about the whole place that made me hesitate.

  “I’m under instruction to deliver you here,” Ted explained. “And to wait as long as you need.”

  Clearly, he didn’t know what was going on either. So I wrapped my cardigan around myself with a huff and walked up the large stone stairs, pushing open the glass door. It resembled a luxury hotel inside, with a large reception desk right at the front. I walked up nervously and a woman with blonde hair and a friendly smile greeted me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Um, I’m not really sure,” I said. “I’m here to see Norma-Jean Richmond.”

  “Ah, of course.” She tapped away at the computer. “I’ll call her down for you.”

  I stood awkwardly off to the side, not really sure what to expect while I waited. As I looked around, I saw more faces I didn’t recognize, but eventually there was one I did. It was an actual celebrity from a reality TV show.

  I tried to keep my mouth from dropping open when he winked at me and sauntered by.

  “He’s a looker, huh?” Norma’s voice interrupted from behind me. “A real nice guy too.”

  I spun around in shock and thought the floor was about to give out on me. Because there in front of me was my mother, but I hardly recognized her.

  In place of her sunken eyes, two vibrant green orbs stared back at me. Her skin had a strange glow to it, and I could almost swear even some of her wrinkles had disappeared. Her hair was shiny, and instead of being styled into its usual rat’s nest, it fell in soft waves around her shoulders. But it was the extra fifteen pounds added to her frame that really had me doing a double take.

  Not to mention the clothes she was wearing. Gone were the cheap white heels and too large jeans. There wasn’t a frill in site on her beige sweatshirt or khaki pants. She looked like a… well, like a mom.

  “What happened to you?” I blurted.

  “What’s the matter?” she chuckled. “Don’t recognize your old mother?”

  There was a kindness in her eyes I hadn’t seen in years, and an evenness in her voice I’d never heard at all. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. She understood that I was in shock as she gripped me by the arm and gently led me away.

  “Let’s go out to the garden,” she suggested. “Get some fresh air.”

  I followed her soundlessly, the wheels turning in my brain as I tried to come to grips with whatever horri
ble thing Ryland had done to my mother. But no matter which way I spun it, I couldn’t process it.

  Norma helped me to sit down in a deck chair before taking a seat in one across from me. The scent of flowers and fresh water invaded my nostrils, and I was sure the garden was beautiful, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Norma.

  “I’m clean,” she began, folding her hands across her lap like a proper lady. “One month. I know it’s not much, and I still have a long way to go, but it’s a start.”

  “This is where you’ve been for the last month?” I looked around again, finally understanding this was a rehab center. One that, from the looks of it, must have cost a fortune.

  “It sure is.” She laughed. “Can you believe it? Me living amongst the rich and famous?”

  “But… how?”

  “Ryland,” she said quietly.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “Language,” she scolded.

  “Oh c’mon Norma,” I retorted. “Don’t start acting like a mother now.”

  She flinched from my words, and I mentally slapped myself, feeling like the worst daughter in the world.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just… I didn’t expect this, and I’m a little confused.”

  “It’s okay.” She nodded. “One of the things they’ve been teaching us here is to accept responsibility for our actions. And I’m not going to deny that I’ve been a less than stellar mother to you and Brayden.”

  Again, my mouth was doing that thing. Opening and closing, but no sound was coming out.

  “But I do love you,” she continued. “And I want to be a part of your life, Brighton. You and Brayden are more important to me than the drugs or the booze, and it took Ryland to help me see that.”

  “But… how?” I asked again.

  “He opened up to me.” She shrugged. “Told me the cold, hard truth. And I felt like such an idiot for playing right into his hands. I felt weak. I was weak. But when he told me what happened to his family, and how much pain he was in, I never wanted you or Brayden to feel that way. He gave me a choice. He handed me a one-way ticket to this place, and a needle with enough drugs to take down a horse. He said it was my decision to make, but that he wasn’t going to watch me hurt you anymore.”