Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3

by Dorothy F. Shaw

  * * * * *

  Cyn tossed and turned beneath the covers, unable to find a comfortable position. Obviously she’d grown used to having Shane in bed beside her, and now…he wasn’t.

  And it was all her fault.

  She’d thought about calling him several times since she’d basically thrown him out of her house but decided against it. Him leaving was for the best. Shane needed to go back to Texas and she needed to get on with her life. Mainly, Cyn needed to get on with the fixing of whatever it was about her that consistently attracted emotionally stunted men. And also, last but not least, Cyn needed to fix her fancy new inability to control her random bursts of temper.

  She reached for the abandoned pillow beside her and pulled it to her chest. Shane wasn’t emotionally stunted. On the contrary, he’d been attentive, affectionate, in-fucking-credible in bed and sweet. Never mind fun, funny and easy to talk to. Cyn bent her head to the cotton pillowcase and drew in a deep breath. The scent of his shampoo and cologne flowed through her senses and Cyn squeezed her eyes closed, willing the tears away.

  The bastard even knew how to dance. And not just shake his ass on the floor in a really cool way like some guys knew how to do, no, he knew how to waltz, swing and two-step—which was the only one she was pretty good at.

  He seemed perfect. But no one was perfect.

  It wasn’t the first time Cyn had thought somebody was exactly as they appeared to be. And with Carlos, hell, she’d been so fucking off base with him it wasn’t even funny. So not funny, that as a result, now she completely doubted her judgment and ability to read people.

  Cyn flopped onto her back and tossed the pillow aside. It didn’t matter that she’d known Shane her whole life. It didn’t matter that Joey was his best friend, and it also didn’t matter that everyone in her family loved him. He needed to go, and Cyn needed to let him go. And then she needed to get her shit straight.

  With a harsh jerk, she yanked the blankets higher and folded over the edge. Why the hell had he thought he could just move back here? It was a free country, but seriously, what the fuck was up with his thinking. And why did he think she’d want that too? Cyn frowned and stared into the darkness of her bedroom.

  Maybe because even though she’d fought with him plenty over the last three weeks, she’d also sucked his dick and fucked his brains out any chance she had. Sometimes more than once a day. Her body tensed and clenched as the familiar desire for him sparked to life. Plus, prior to the explosion in her living room, thanks to Carlos, Cyn and Shane had gone on some dates and did boyfriend/girlfriend type things together. Even spent time with her family. And maybe also because he was sort-of-kind-of living with her… Fuck!

  Cyn let out a groan and raised her knees on the bed. “Dammit! Fucking hell! Sonofabitch!” She reached for her phone and swiped across the screen. She should call him—tell him she was sorry. But if she did, their merry-go-round would never end.

  Fuck’s sake, how the hell was she supposed to deal with this mess herself? Anger beat through her in time with her pulse. She was furious with him. She was furious with herself. And fucking Angie…what the hell was up with Angie earlier in the night?

  Shane had wanted to discuss Cyn’s dinner date with her sister and there was simply nothing to discuss. Big deal, they’d had a fight. Sisters did that—even though Cyn rarely, if ever, fought with Angie.

  Restless agitation raced through her. She needed to sleep. She needed to forget any of this happened. What she wouldn’t give to wish it all away—wish herself right back to the night of the bachelor and bachelorette party. Cyn never would’ve gone near Shane Conlon.

  Knowing what she knew now, she wouldn’t have touched him with a ten-foot pole—which was a total lie.

  A wave of sorrow crashed over her, joining in with the party of every other emotion that’d set up camp inside her, except for the anger. The sadness had extinguished that one, and Cyn did everything she could to call it back. The anger was easier to handle and had become a constant companion as of late.

  As if right on cue, her tears made their appearance…and quickly escalated into full-blown sobbing. Cyn cried so hard her body shook from head to toe. She missed him—so fucking much that her chest felt hollow.

  Is this what real love followed by a broken heart felt like?

  This was so much worse than anything she’d ever experienced…and maybe that was because Shane hadn’t broken her heart. No, she’d done that to herself.

  With tears still streaming, Cyn tossed off the covers and went to the bathroom. She grabbed the Benedryl from the medicine cabinet and popped two small pills. She needed to sleep. And she needed to forget. And she needed to not dream.

  * * * * *

  Shane settled in the family room at Joey’s house across from Angie. She was on the couch, her long legs curled beneath her as she ran her fingers through the lengths of her dark hair. He’d asked her at the kitchen table, over donuts and coffee, about the topic of being single that’d come up at Ryan and Maiya’s house the other night. Angie had said she’d fill him in later—well, later had come and now he was waiting.

  Normally Shane was a patient man, but at that moment, his reserve tanks were bone dry. He propped his ankle on his knee and took another sip of coffee.

  “She’s going to be pissed if I tell you.”

  For fuck’s sake, finally! “Then I guess we won’t tell her that I know.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Angie fiddled with a thread on her jeans. “I just feel bad, I mean…I didn’t know it was a secret, you know?”

  “Look, Ang, I get it. I do, but it’s not like I’m going to use whatever it is you’re about to tell me against her in a bad way. I care about your sister. A lot.” He blew out a breath. “I get that she didn’t want me to know. We even had a fight about it. Please understand, if shit wasn’t so crazy with her right now, I’d respect the hell out of her privacy and mind my own business. But seriously because shit is so crazy right now, I feel like I need to know. Maybe it’ll help me make sense of this mess. Does it have anything to do with Carlos?”

  Angie let out a sigh. “Yes, but not the attack.” She shifted and stretched her legs out in front of her, resting them on the coffee table. “I’m only going to tell you because I know you love her. And because I don’t think it’s any big deal and that truthfully her reaction to me slipping up the other night probably has everything to do with how screwed up her head is right now because of the attack instead of the no-dating thing being some sort of secret.”

  Shane decided to let Angie’s comment about him loving Cyn go—no reason to deny or admit what was already true. Obviously Angie could see it, so there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. Outside of that, Shane couldn’t imagine what the big deal was especially if it really had no tie in to the attack. “Why would not dating be a secret? Honestly, I’m really confused, Ang.”

  “Just before the wedding, Cyn and Carlos broke up. She caught him with another woman. Like, his hand was in the cookie jar, for real.”

  “She didn’t give me all the details, but I imagine that must’ve been pretty ugly for her.” Shane dropped his booted foot to the floor and leaned forward. “Go on.”

  “So, Cyn was on a quest of sorts. You know, to figure out why she kept picking all these fucked-up guys. Carlos’s shit pretty much broke the camel’s back, I guess.” Angie sipped her coffee. “Anyway, she decided she was going to stay single for a year and figure out why her picker was broken.”

  Shane frowned. “Come again?”

  “She was going to stay single for a ye—”

  “No, not that part. Broken picker? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Oh!” Angie giggled. “It’s a term Maiya came up with, I guess. Cyn has a broken picker. You know—” she held up her pointer finger and wiggled it at him, “—her picker is broken. She always picks assholes.”

 
How funny. Maiya was an interesting lady for sure, and absolutely perfect for Ryan. “Okay, so…” Shane ran his palm over his stubbled jaw. “So she thinks her picker is broken and she decided to stay single for a year. Huh.”

  “Until you.”

  “I guess maybe I threw a wrench in her plan, right?”

  “A big huge wrench. Big. Enormous!” She laughed. “I was supposed to do it with her. We’d made a pact.”

  “But then I showed up.”

  She flipped her hair off one shoulder. “Well, you showed up before we made the pact, but it didn’t matter.”

  “Why didn’t it matter?”

  “Because I guess it was…” she paused. “I guess after you two hooked up the night of the bachelorette party and again at the wedding.” She winked and Shane felt his face get hot and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, she told me all about it. That’s what we do.” She grinned. “Anyway, she’d said she wasn’t going to touch you again and start her moratorium. That’s when she asked me to be her wing man…or woman, rather.”

  “But she did—” he cleared his throat again. Screw it. Again, no point in pretending things hadn’t happened just like Angie laid out. Shane might be a private guy, but this was Cyn’s sister so… “She did touch me again. Hasn’t stopped touching me, so I guess that plan didn’t work.”

  “Right. So she went to plan B.” Angie sipped her coffee.

  “Plan B?”

  “Cyn figured she’d spend the time with you while you were here, you know because you were just too yummy to resist, and then when you went home, she’d do her year.”

  Shane had to laugh. Yeah, he’d blown her plan to bits. “Okay, yeah. I get it. But, Angie, this doesn’t seem like something to keep from me. Why wouldn’t she just tell me?”

  Angie shrugged one shoulder. “Hell if I know. Why does Cyn do anything these days? I mean, come on, she practically ate my face for dinner tonight. That’s not normal for her. With Mary, hell yes. Totally normal. But with me? It doesn’t happen.”

  Shane didn’t get it. He leaned back in the seat and glanced around the room. It wasn’t a big deal that Cyn had wanted to remain single for a year. He actually thought it was a really good idea she had—of course, now that he was in her life it wasn’t necessary, not considering the chemistry between them and how well they got along, at least until the attack. Jesus, things had gotten really fucked up. “She needs therapy, Angie.”

  “Ya think?” She dropped her feet to the floor. “Tell me something I don’t know, Shane. But she won’t go.”

  “Honestly, I think she has PTSD. She’s displaying all the symptoms. Anger and lashing out at people, in a completely irrational way. She refuses to talk about the attack.” He got to his feet and stood in front of the picture window. “Hell, she won’t even go into the living room at her house.”

  “Shit. What are we going to do? I mean, she’s not crazy crazy, she’s just a little fucked up right now—which anyone would be.”

  “Of course.” Shane faced Angie. “Here’s the thing. Cyn, when in her right mind, wouldn’t have cared if I knew about her self-imposed year of being single.”

  “Celibacy too.” Angie got to her feet.

  He glanced at her. “Even more props to her for that. That’s a damn tall order, I imagine.” Shane cringed at the thought of her being with anyone else. Bile rose in his throat and he pushed it back down. “Yeah, ya know, not gonna even think about that, but here’s the deal: It’s only the stress of the attack and her inability to cope with what happened that made her freak out about something that was no big deal. It’s also what’s making her fight with everyone.”

  “Even me.” Angie frowned.

  “Even you, sweetheart.” Shane gave her arm a squeeze.

  “Right, so what do we do now? I mean she won’t even discuss it with Mom.”

  Shane tucked his hands in his back pockets and stared out of the window into the darkness of the backyard. He was out of ideas. And he was out of energy too. He’d tried, and he’d lost. “I don’t know, Angie. But I do know, it’s time for me to go home.”

  “Shane, you can’t just leave.”

  “I have to. Cyn can’t hear me, and I’ve run out of creative ways to say it. I can’t help her, she doesn’t want my help. I have to accept that. You probably should to.”

  “Soooo, what, then? We just let her keep on this path of madness until she has some sort of mental breakdown?”

  “I hope not. You were right, what you said before, about me loving Cyn.” Shane let his head fall forward and he rubbed his hands over his face. After let out a harsh breath, he shook his head and turned back to Angie. “I love her more than she knows, and I can’t stand that she’s going through this but I can’t help her, Ang.”

  “Shane, you can’t leave. She needs you.” Tears streamed down Angie’s cheeks and Shane’s heart broke for the second time in one night.

  Shane pulled her into an embrace. “Maybe she needs me to go. Maybe if I go, she’ll get some help.”

  “What if that doesn’t work?”

  Shane’s gut twisted with fear. Truth was, he wasn’t leaving because he thought it might cause Cyn to get some help, he was leaving because she’d sent him away. In addition he’d grown weary of the fight.

  Hope had lost its spark within him. He didn’t know if Cyn would get the help she needed once he was gone. He didn’t know anything except the sharp ache of his broken heart and that the woman he knew he was meant to be with didn’t want him.

  He stroked the back of Angie’s long hair and tried to figure out what to say to her. In the end…it wasn’t much, but it was all he had. “It’s going to be okay, Angela.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Cyn stepped from the shower and toweled off. That day marked the third since she’d sent Shane away. Two nights without him beside her in bed, and the coming night would be the third. Two days without his scent, his lips, his touch and his body buried inside hers. Cyn braced her hands on the counter and stared into the sink. She’d heard through the old reliable family grapevine that he was still in town, but he had to be leaving soon, right?

  Her gut clenched and her heart ached at the thought of him leaving. She blinked, trying to stave off the tears that seemed to be on ready standby and supply since he’d left—or rather, since she’d thrown him out. She probably needed to keep that statement accurate. Shane wouldn’t have left her…maybe. But Cyn sure made certain that would never happen.

  Because she’d left him first.

  A few tears escaped, and Cyn grabbed a tissue, blotted her cheeks and blew her nose. She cared about Shane, there was no denying that, and she didn’t want to leave things as they were—all ugly and unsorted. She would rather make peace and say goodbye to him in the right way.

  Regardless of the fact that Cyn didn’t trust herself, therefore couldn’t trust Shane, the guy was still a nice one. And she’d known him her entire freaking life. He didn’t deserve what she’d dished out to him.

  Though she looked like hell, thanks to her random crying jags, Cyn did her best to make herself presentable for public viewing. A dab of Preparation-H under the eyes and a generous amount of waterproof mascara was totally going to save her ass, and her eyes.

  After finishing in the bathroom, she tugged on a pair of capri yoga pants, and a T-shirt—nothing too flattering. The last thing Cyn wanted was for Shane to think she was there to lure him back.

  Because she wasn’t.

  That would be stupid, and selfish.

  Really fucking selfish.

  With one last look in the mirror, she adjusted a stray hair and then made her way out the door.

  The drive to Joey’s was quick enough, maybe quicker than she wanted. Cyn pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. Nervous energy bounced through her, and as gross as it was, boob-sweat was making its presence known
. She pulled a tissue from her purse and shoved it between her breasts. The typical curse of having a large chest. “Jesus, it’s not even hot out!”

  Cyn cringed, knowing full well her sweating had nothing to do with the heat, and everything to do with being nervous to see Shane. What if he didn’t want to speak to her? Like ever again? Christ, she’d made a huge mess.

  A knock on her door window had Cyn jumping out of her skin. She screamed, clutched her chest, and looked over. Joey was standing there, hands raised in surrender. Cyn rolled her eyes and opened the door. “Jesus Christ, Joey! Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”

  Joey lowered his hands as he tilted his head to the side. “No, honey. Not really on my agenda today.”

  Cyn stepped out of the Wrangler and slammed the door. “Well, you could’ve fooled me. You don’t just sneak up on a person like that. Christ.”

  Joey crossed his arms. “Ya know, not for anything, but you’re sitting in my driveway, Cyn. I saw you pull in over five minutes ago and when you didn’t come to the door, I came out to see if you were okay. I even opened the garage, came out that way, which, since it’s right in front of you, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t notice. But I’m guessing you were what? Daydreaming?”

  Cyn glanced over at the open garage door. Holy shit. How the hell had she not seen the garage door open? And five minutes? How had she been sitting in his driveway for five minutes? She was losing her freaking mind.

  Or he was, which was entirely possible, considering the baby, and sleep deprivation, though Cyn had a feeling she was reaching pretty far on that one. “Doesn’t matter. You just startled me. Forget it.” She opened her driver’s door, reached in, grabbed her purse and slammed it again. “I came over to talk to Shane.”

  “Not possible.”

  “What do you mean, not possible?” she imitated his voice, adding a layer of sarcasm. “He and I have some stuff we need to settle, Joey. What? You his bodyguard now?” She moved past him.

  He caught her arm. “Go easy, little sister.”