Heartstrings

by Kelli McCracken

  I was the woman. I knew it in my heart. But the man…He resembled Paxton. The rose and thorns tattoo on his bicep reminded me of the one on Paxton’s arm. The muscular body resembled Paxton’s too. Yet when the man pulled away from kissing me, I noticed his icy blue eyes.

  As the image froze in my mind, so did my body. The realization of what it meant sent me over the edge, as did Adam’s next thrust. I tightened around him and gave into the spasms pulsating through my body.

  I cried out—to Adam, to God, to anyone who would listen, as wave after wave of exquisite pleasure rocked me to the core. I enjoyed the feel of Adam’s grunts against my neck, the way his hands gripped my ass as he pounded into me, the way his body jerked as he reached release…

  A moment later, he rolled to his side and drew me to his chest. I crossed my leg over his, laying my head just below his shoulder while we caught our breath. I was full of many emotions and each one seemed to make me choke.

  I was happy. For the first time in over a month, I felt complete, even if all my memories hadn’t returned. Being with Adam felt natural, even more so than it did with Paxton. The images that came to mind as we made love were like reminders of another time and place.

  Had I been with Adam at some point in my life? He insinuated we knew each other, but this… This was more than I could have hoped for.

  But what did any of it mean? Did the flashback come from a point in time when Adam and I had known each other? Were they old memories of my relationship with Paxton, ones I was confusing with my desire for Adam? Or were these flashbacks something a little more complicated. Were they simply my need to connect with someone else, someone who showed me interest, someone who could love me?

  I didn’t know, nor did I care. All the pieces would fit together soon. I believed that more than anything. But for tonight, I wanted to focus on Adam and revel in the bliss he’d given me.

  Regardless of whether he was someone I’d known before tragedy struck my life, I knew there was something about him, something special, something that would complete me in a way I could only hope.

  ~ CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ~

  A gentle tapping drew me from sleep. I struggled to open my eyes and give the sound any consideration. My lids were heavy, like concrete. The muscles in my face couldn’t lift such a heavy substance so I kept them closed and relied on my ears.

  My state of consciousness rose from the depths of a sound sleep, past the level where dreams occur, and toward the point where I’d be aware of my surroundings. A fog of confusion lingered in my head like marshy ground after a good rain. I fought to see through the mist and gain my bearings.

  No dreams came to mind as I snuggled my pillow closer and rubbed my foot back and forth over the soft sheets. I hadn’t experienced many dreams since the one I had of being in the middle of the woods, in a thick fog, searching for a way out.

  The way my head felt now reminded me of the dream. I concentrated on the night before, hoping to remember why my body didn’t want to cooperate. The last week hadn’t been kind. Not with the influx of memories—memories that included Paxton, Hadley, my son, and Adam.

  Adam…

  A mixture of fear and excitement overwhelmed me. He was real. Last night, he’d touched me, kissed me, and made love to me. Every detail was branded into my brain. Not one moment had lacked passion. It was in his hands when they caressed my hips and captured my wrists. It was in the heat of his mouth as he covered my breasts and lips. Yet the way he filled me with every inch of himself, that level of passion exploded into something phenomenal, something I craved.

  Had he woke yet? I wanted to ask him about the images I saw while we made love, images that showed a similar situation between us, or so I thought. I still wasn’t sure if it was a memory of him or Paxton.

  The tapping that woke me restarted and picked up in rhythm. I listened to the sound realizing it was rain beating against the roof. My lids parted as I peeked toward the window. A faint haze came from the dreary gray sky, making my room look darker than normal.

  I didn’t mind the rain. It meant spring was on the way. Spring represented life and new beginnings, which was exactly what I needed—a new beginning. Once the rest of my memories returned, I’d get what I wanted.

  After blinking enough that I felt awake, I rolled over to the side of the bed where Adam lay. And as my eyes fell on the spot where his body snuggled close to mine, my heart dropped.

  The bed was empty.

  The longer I studied the pillow where his head once lay, the more I questioned if he’d really been here. Had he woke up early and left in order to avoid being discovered by Hadley? It seemed a plausible explanation, except for one simple fact. I still had on my clothes, including my panties. If last night had really happened, they would be on the floor…

  Pain radiated inside me. I wanted to give in to it, but a low rumbling came from my bedroom door. A quick glance at my clock revealed the time—seven-ten a.m. It was Hadley who stood on the other side. She normally came to check on me after she woke. It was time for our therapy session, the one she mentioned restarting last night.

  I didn’t want to do therapy. I wanted to cry. The one time I thought I was getting something I wanted and it turned out to be nothing but a dream. That was the only reasonable explanation for what happened between Adam and me. I’d dreamed the entire thing.

  The door creaked as it slowly opened. I waited to see Hadley’s head slip around the side like it did every morning. But it wasn’t Hadley’s face that stared back at me. It was Brighton’s.

  Great.

  “Morning, sis. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “You didn’t. The rain did.”

  He nodded mindfully before quirking a brow. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  As he strolled into my room, I stood up and shrugged into my robe. There was no sense in sulking in bed all day waiting for Adam to reappear. The way our encounters were going lately, I’d be waiting for weeks.

  His disappearing act left my mind reeling. Had I made love to a ghost, or had I dreamt it? The latter made more sense. My memories of seeing him in the emergency room had weighed on me. That’s why I dreamt of him, but even assuming as much didn’t answer my questions.

  Who was Adam? What did he mean to me?

  “How are you feeling today?” Brighton asked once I stepped behind my closet door to change. I left the door ajar so he could hear me when I answered, “I’m fine.”

  I slid into a loose-fitting t-shirt and yoga pants. I’d shower later, after therapy. All I wanted to do now was get Brighton out of my room, grab a cup of coffee, and forget about the crazy dream I had.

  The former would take the most amount of energy.

  “Hadley called last night. She said you remembered her.”

  “That’s correct.”

  I mumbled the words as I shoved my feet in a pair of socks and then my sneakers. Maybe if I kept my responses short enough he’d get the message and leave me alone. I didn’t want to talk to him. He’d kept important information from me, information I wasn’t able to forgive him for at this point in time. Maybe someday I would.

  Once I tied my laces, I walked out of the closet and closer to the edge of my bed. Brighton stood near the French doors. He’d opened the blinds and was staring into the backyard.

  Something was off about him today. It was more than me being pissed with him and him knowing it. Something troubled him, something more than me.

  “Are you okay, Brighton? You’re not…acting like yourself.”

  He shrugged. “Just have a lot on my mind, Jo.”

  “Anything you’d like to share?” When he squinted at me, I rephrased my question. “I guess I should say, is there anything you can share. Wouldn’t want you messing with my memories.”

  I winced at my acerbic remark.

  “You’ll appreciate my stubbornness once all of your memories return. Then maybe I’ll forgive myself.”

  “For what?”


  His weight shifted to the other foot as he stared out the blinds. “For a lifetime of mistakes and poor choices. For being placed in a situation that gave two options. Refusing to give you information and risk you hating me, or being the good guy, giving you the info, and destroying your chances of a full recovery.”

  A measure of guilt heated my face. I once thought that if the roles were reversed, I’d give him the information he wanted, the same information he refused to give me. Yet now that my memories were coming back, I wasn’t so sure. Perhaps what he did was sincere—tough—but sincere. He wasn’t the drug addict I remembered from long ago. He was the good-hearted brother I’d forgotten.

  I lowered myself to the bed, brushing against my guitar as I did. Instead of sinking into the mattress, I grabbed the instrument and stood. Maybe if I played, Brighton would leave and Adam would return. Ghost or fantasy, it didn’t matter anymore. All I wanted was to be near him.

  My heart beat like a base drum, deep and solid. Adam provided me with a moment of happiness the night before. Whether it was real or an illusion meant nothing compared to the way he made me feel. If this was what it meant to be crazy, then I was ready to submit to the insanity.

  It was better than thinking about everything I’d lost…

  Gripping the guitar, I strummed the chords as the melody in my heart poured through my fingers and across the strings. They were heartstrings, binding my soul to the thing I’d loved since childhood—music.

  “Jo?”

  I hated the sound of my name when Brighton spoke it. I tuned him out, as well as the insistent chatter that proceeded. He wasn’t making me feel better. Yet the song I was creating…it made me feel a lot of things.

  Brighton’s face pinched. The way his eyes flitted between the guitar and me hinted to his confusion. His clenched jaw confirmed it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His frown deepened. “Where did you hear that song?”

  “In my head. I’ve worked on this one since you showed me this,” I tapped the resonating chamber. “Why do you ask?”

  He pursed his lips to answer, then rubbed them together. “No reason.”

  “Bullshit. Have you heard it before?”

  “You know I can’t answer that, Jo.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood. “You don’t have to, Brighton. The answer is on your face.”

  He glanced away. So did I.

  I strummed the guitar again, working my fingers over the strings, forming chord upon chord as a melody rang through the air. All the pain and confusion from the last week came through in the song. But when my thoughts came to my baby boy, my fingers froze.

  Tears blurred my vision. I couldn’t breathe from the amount of pain in my body. It felt as though I’d had the misfortune of being crushed between caving buildings. In a way I was, but instead of brick and mortar, it was my heart crushing me.

  “Just breathe.”

  I snapped my head toward the door, hoping to find Adam standing there. I found nothing, nothing but Brighton gawking at me like I was crazy.

  “Jo?”

  “Just leave me alone, Brighton.”

  He turned away from the door and crept closer to the bed. “You know what hurts me the most? You remembered Paxton but can’t remember your last six years with me. It sucks.”

  I debated on whether to tell him he was wrong. I did remember some of the details around his detoxification. Still, it wasn’t enough to garner a conversation in which I’d be a willing participant.

  “I’m not discussing this with you, Brighton. I can’t.”

  More notes filled the room as I did my best to drown out his pleas. I didn’t care what he had to say. I wanted to see Adam. I needed to see him. I’d lose my mind if I didn’t.

  “Remember…”

  I heard his voice again, but couldn’t search for him this time. The room grew dark before it lightened. I was no longer standing in my bedroom but in a void of space. A black sky spread before me, and images played across it like clips of a movie.

  But it wasn’t a movie. It was my life flashing before me.

  The scenes weren’t in any particular order, not that I was aware of. Yet the more I watched, the harder it became to breathe. Hadley and I were standing behind the counter at Corner Café. I heard her laugh this time, heard the humor in her voice when she grinned at me and said, “I don’t envy you in the least. I know I couldn’t choose, so good luck.”

  My eyes shot to the mirror but didn’t settle on my reflection. I noticed Paxton. He was sitting at a table with two companions, but instead of talking to them, he stared in my direction. Brighton sat beside him. The man sitting across from them twisted at his waist. Once he faced me, my jaw dropped.

  Adam…

  As his image faded, I gripped the guitar. I played more of the song, going into chords I hadn’t performed before. Regardless of how unfamiliar they were they felt right. Each note ringing through the melody brought another scene into the blackened sky.

  Adam was standing before me, leaning against the pastry case at the coffee shop. The way his lips tugged upward, the soft caress of his hand, even the way he hovered close to me said it all. He was flirting with me, and I was falling for him.

  I had no time to enjoy the memory. The scene shifted to another time and place. I stood inside an apartment I recognized as the one Hadley and I shared in college. Paxton was kneeling before me at the corner of my bed.

  He was a mess. His shoulders shook with each and every sob. I lifted his head and wiped away his tears. Then he kissed me. I didn’t resist, not in the least, and it wasn’t long before we were making love.

  As the scene changed again, it was as if the movie playing before me was being rewound. The images blurred for several seconds before clearing once more. When they did, I saw Brighton lying on my bed in the same apartment.

  My skin prickled at the memory of his detoxification from pain pills. He was sick, severely sick, but managed to shout obscenities at me before vomiting in a nearby bucket. I moved forward and applied a cold compress to his head. It took him a minute, but he found the strength to raise his head and continue his rampage.

  This time, he cursed and swung at me. I ducked before his fist collided with my cheek. I shot off a few curse words myself, ready to pummel him for his behavior. Then he started crying.

  So many apologies passed over his lips. Each one tore at my heart until I climbed in bed behind him and held his hand. We’d remained in that position all night. I didn’t get much sleep. Neither did he. In the end, the loss of sleep was worth it. Brighton was better the next day and every day after.

  “Jo? Answer me! Jo, please…”

  I heard my brother’s voice but couldn’t see his face. I was still deep in the recess of my mind. After hearing him screaming my name repeatedly, everything shifted again. The sky changed to a light gray. I was lying on my back, gazing upward, when Brighton’s face blocked my view. He had scrapes covering his forehead and cheek with fresh blood seeping through his tattered skin.

  I tried calling out to him, desperate to know what had happened and why it felt as though a boulder had hit me. My lips wouldn’t work, no matter how many times I parted them. Then everything seemed to stop. A flood of memories came rushing back.

  The stench of burnt rubber. The sound of brakes squealing. Thick, black air bag smoke. The rusty taste of blood. Searing pain…

  It felt as though I were being ripped apart. Then a voice reverberated around me. “You’re okay, Josie—” Warm fingers curled around my arm. “Stay with me, baby. Please…just breathe.”

  My head pounded from the influx of memories. There were too many to count, and each one seemed to unravel the fibers of my soul. I remembered everything.

  The car in front of mine rolled on its side. Another clipped the tail of my car, spinning it out of control. Bare trees and a strip of grass blended with the gray of the road. The guardrail crunched when my car bounced off it. Then grinding pierced my ears as
two vehicles traded paint.

  Through all the confusion, one image stole my breath more than any. The instant I saw the passenger in the other car. Blue eyes shot in my direction, then to the hand I pressed against the window—the same hand that went through the glass when the car collided with mine. But it wasn’t just any car that damaged my hand, as well as my life. It was my fiancé’s car—

  It was Adam’s car.

  ~ CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ~

  I couldn’t speak, or move, or do anything about the tears streaming over my cheeks. Nothing Brighton said or did helped, so he’d kept quiet for the last several minutes. Even Hadley kept her distance. I vaguely recalled her coming into the room and asking if I was okay. Brighton ushered her away and spoke in a soft voice, but I didn’t listen to anything they said. I was too caught up in the memories I’d regained.

  Most of it was still a blur of confusion. The pieces of the puzzle were spread before me. Now I had the tedious task of connecting them together. Then I would have the perfect picture of what I called my life.

  As I blinked away another round of tears, I faced my brother. We both drew in a deep breath—mine, in preparation for asking for his help, his, in preparation for the difficult conversation ahead.

  “Are you okay, Jo?” He scanned my face, as though he were searching for a hidden answer.

  I nodded. “I just had a slew of memories hit me, and I… It’s like I’m staring at a puzzle and I’m struggling to find matching pieces. I need you to help me, Brighton. Please.”

  He sat beside me on the bed and handed me some tissues. Once I wiped my eyes and nose, I noticed him gazing at the guitar. He stroked the edge of the base before patting it twice.

  “Do you remember how this guitar came into my possession?”

  “I think so. You bought it for me…from Adam.”

  His mouth gaped. “You remember him?”

  I did more than remember him. I’d seen him. He’d been in this room many times in the last month. How, I wasn’t sure, so I kept that much to myself. “Yes, I remember him. He’s my… We’re engaged.”