All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3)

by Anna Paige

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Follow/Contact Anna

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Books by Anna Paige

  ANNA PAIGE

  All the Broken Pieces

  Copyright © 2016 Anna Paige

  Cover Image by Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs

  All rights reserved.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in

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  the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Except for the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics mentioned in the novel

  All the Broken Pieces are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places,

  events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s

  imagination and used fictitiously.

  For Belinda… the best mom I could have ever asked for.

  One

  “There’s no fucking way I’m shacking up with you and your wife.” I crossed my arms over my chest, unyielding.

  “Whatever, dude. It was just an offer. I still say you’re wasting money renting a separate place. We’ll be here working for months.” Clay shook his head in a way that suggested I was being stupid.

  “Exactly. There’s no way I’m about to sign on for months in the same house with the newlyweds.” I used air quotes for emphasis. “You and Ali were bad enough before the wedding. Now, I fear you may actually screw each other to death, and frankly, I don’t want to be the one to stumble across your cooling, contorted bodies.” A shudder passed through me at the thought as Clay—my business partner and close friend—began to laugh uproariously.

  I didn’t find it funny.

  We were spending the afternoon walking the property where we would soon be breaking ground, brainstorming possible additions. It was something we did with every major job, but this time we were doing an especially important build and it needed to be absolutely perfect. Weather and scheduling glitches had already delayed the build by a couple of months, which was far from ideal given the nature of the project. We should have broken ground in late July but here it was nearly October. It pissed me off.

  Much like the chuckles coming from my jackass partner.

  His laughter continued to roll across the cleared expanse of land and I kicked the weeds at my feet, frustrated. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but the truth is I like living alone. It’s not something I do because of a lack of options. It’s my preference. So, the smaller cabin I rented is just fine. It’s close enough to you and Ali for us to collaborate on the build without having to give up our respective solitude. Plus, the owner cut me a killer deal on the rental fees in exchange for my help with a few renovations, so it’s a win-win.”

  “Fine, fucker. See if I offer to help you again.” He groused, fighting off a smile. “Does everyone really refer to me and Ali as ‘the newlyweds’ with air quotes?”

  I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. “Yup. Sometimes we also call you The Humpingtons. I can’t take credit for that one, though. That was all Talia. Or maybe it was Spencer. Either way, it’s your own faults for rubbing your public displays of affection in our faces all the time.”

  He waggled his brows, grinning broadly. “You should see what she and I rub in each other’s faces in private.”

  “For fuck’s sake, bro. No. Just no.” I spun on my heel and headed in the other direction, eyes darting to the tree line in the distance. “I’m going off to see if I can get myself mauled by a bear or something, which is far preferable to having to hear about your marital sexcapades.”

  His laughter echoed behind me and I shook my head.

  The asshole so enjoyed making me uncomfortable. Said it was his way of helping me come out of my shell.

  Bullshit.

  He just liked messing with me.

  As the smile I’d been fighting began to win the battle, I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed the banter. Usually. Some things, though, one guy never needed to know about another guy. And thanks to his frequent over-shares, I always had a hard time not blushing around Ali. Clay thought that was hilarious.

  I was halfway across the cleared lot when Clay’s phone began loudly ringing. I recognized the ringtone immediately, another over-share if you asked me. I mean, “Animals” by Maroon 5?

  How subtle.

  Not turning, I called over my shoulder, “Tell the missus I said hi.”

  I could make out his greeting and waited for him to deliver my message as I slowed my pace to look at some of the painted markings left by the surveyors. My mind kicked back into work mode and I contemplated the need for more power, twisting around to gauge how far apart the cabins would be in reference to the main house, calculating amperage in my head.

  We were building an enormous children’s retreat. One main building surrounded by nearly a dozen smaller cabins, all specifically designed for children battling cancer. It would be called Milly’s Mountain, named after the daughter of Ali’s best friend Talia, who lost Milly to cancer at age four.

  Talia was now engaged to our other business partner, Spencer, and they were expecting a baby of their own. So many changes had happened for my friends in the previous year. It was astonishing to consider how far they had come, how happy they were.

  Not me, though. I was still right where I’d been for more than a damn decade: self-imposed exile. Work and my few friends were all I allowed myself to care about.

  Most days I couldn’t have been happier for my friends. I generally wasn’t a jealous man, wasn’t prone to envy.

  Sometimes, though…

  My thoughts were interrupted by Clay’s raised voice.

  “Ali, slow down, you’re freaking me out. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s going on.” His eyes flashed to mine from across the field and I hastened back to where he stood, my eyes never leaving his face. “Are you hurt? Breathe, baby. Why are you crying?”

  His expression went from concern to relief for a brief moment as she spoke, then it morphed into fear. He looked at me with wide eyes and gave a fractional shake of his head. I could hear Ali’s broken sobs as I stood there next to him.

  It was bad, whatever it was.

  Clay turned back toward the truck and mot
ioned for me to follow, his steps urgent. “Okay, I’m leaving now. Brant and I will meet you at the hospital. Is Lauren already there?”

  Lauren? The same Lauren who they had so much trouble with last year? She had tormented Ali and Clay when they first started their relationship. To be fair, she was blackmailed into it by Ali’s psycho ex, who was threatening to harm Teach if she didn’t cooperate. I just didn’t realize they were still in close contact with her.

  He blew out a breath and climbed behind the wheel of his truck while I quietly slipped into the passenger seat. “Just please drive safely. I don’t like you being behind the wheel when you’re upset. It scares me.” Clay’s mother had been upset and crying the night she crashed her car and died from her injuries. Clay had a huge thing about the people he loved not driving while emotional. “I know. I will. Love you too, Ali. Everything is going to be okay. Okay?”

  They chatted for a minute longer, Clay reminding her at least three more times to drive carefully before he ended the call and looked over at me, speaking over the sound of gravel flying from beneath the tires. “Teach had a heart attack. Lauren called Ali from the hospital.” Teach was Ali’s former college professor turned pseudo-grandfather. He was the reason Ali and Clay had met and fallen in love. Hell, he even got ordained and performed their wedding ceremony here in Denson a few months ago.

  “Shit.” My heart dropped. I wasn’t as close to Teach as everyone else, but I’d spent a fair amount of time with him and thought highly of the man. He was like family to Ali and her best friend Talia, and he actually was family to Lauren. Despite the drama from last year, Ali and Lauren had clearly made peace, which spoke volumes about Ali’s amazing capacity for forgiveness.

  I envied her that.

  God, Lauren was probably losing it. I’d never actually met her but anyone who would risk prison time to protect Teach had to care about him very much.

  Clay turned to me, his features pinched with worry. “I’m sorry you’re sort of stuck dealing with this. Of all the days to not drive separately, huh?”

  “It’s fine. I think of Teach as a friend, too.” The last thing Clay needed was another thing to worry about right then. As it was, he would be half out of his mind with worry until Ali arrived safely.

  “I appreciate that. Just the same though, if you decide you want to split, you can take my truck and head home. Ali will have the Jeep and I’ll probably end up leaving the truck there anyway so I can drive her home.” His grip tightened on the wheel, the thick leather making a cracking sound beneath his hands. “She shouldn’t be behind the wheel at all today but there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  My hand shot out to grab the ‘oh shit’ handle as he took a sharp curve so fast I feared we would end up on two wheels. “Not to be a smartass, but are you sure you need to be driving? Because I could take over.”

  I could practically see the scathing remark in his expression but when he flicked a glance at the speedometer, he bit it back and eased off the gas. Marginally.

  I was all for going to the hospital but I would rather not do it in an ambulance.

  Given the expression on my best friend’s face, it wasn’t the time to critique his driving so the best I could do was hang on tight and hope.

  For the two of us, but also for Teach.

  •••

  Turns out if Clay ever needed another career to fall back on, I was pretty sure he could make it as a stunt driver.

  Not many people could careen into a parking lot at forty miles an hour and manage to wedge a three-quarter ton crew-cab truck into a spot obviously intended for a goddamn Smart Car, all while barely touching the brake.

  I may have also learned that I had exceptional bladder control.

  Fucking lunatic.

  We both exited the truck and I suppressed the urge to kiss the fucking pavement while he hurried off in the direction of the Emergency department.

  The wide automatic doors opened with a whoosh of cold air and I was instantly reminded of the last time I was here. Ali had been admitted here after being trapped in a fire and suffering smoke inhalation in addition to several other minor injuries. The waiting room had been packed with family and friends, all refusing to budge until she was cleared.

  Clay spoke to the receptionist and we were directed to the waiting area outside the surgical unit.

  We made our way to the open door halfway down the long sterile hall and once inside, Clay skidded to a stop.

  I nearly ran into his back, muttering, “The hell?”

  I looked around him and found a mostly empty room, much like the one we’d all inhabited after the fire. Two drab couches, a few stiff chairs, and a small, round table with four plastic-backed chairs, one of which was being used.

  No one else was in the room.

  Just her.

  She had her head down, resting on her folded arms, and her hair rippled as her shoulders shook.

  Her blood red hair.

  I frowned and looked at Clay, whose confused expression must have mirrored my own.

  Where the hell was Lauren?

  From what I’d been told, she had black hair, though since first hearing about her—complete with her Cruella nickname—I had pictured her with Cruella’s signature half black half white mane.

  Another glance at the oblivious crying woman and I gripped Clay’s arm, backing us out the door and into the hall. “Did we get the room wrong?” We both looked at the thick stamped plate by the door that verified we were in the right place.

  “No.” He looked up and down the hall. “I thought for sure Lauren would be in here. Ali said Marilee was at her sister’s and wouldn’t be here yet. She’s on her way, though. Lauren came here with him in the ambulance.” He continued scanning the empty hall, perplexed.

  “Clay?” The sound of a woman’s tearful voice came from inside the room and we both frowned again, walking back in.

  Her head was up now, her long hair pushed back away from her face as though she’d just run her hands through it. Her face was tear-soaked and slightly blotchy. Her red-rimmed eyes were a crystalline blue, several shades lighter than my own.

  Even in her tearful state, she was beautiful.

  Sadly, brokenly, dejectedly beautiful.

  “Shit, Lauren. Sorry. You had your head down and with the hair…” He shook his head as he made his way toward her.

  She focused her attention on Clay and her face crumpled, a broken sob escaping her. “They took him away and they won’t tell me anything. He was so still, Clay, so so still.”

  Clay moved to her side, pulling one of the chairs close so he could hold her hand. “What do you mean they won’t tell you anything?”

  I took the seat across from her and offered a small, helpless smile when she briefly looked my way.

  “Marilee had to give them the okay for the surgery. They called her on her cell because she’s his next of kin. Ever since they talked to her, they won’t tell me shit. It’s like they look right through me. So all I can do is sit here alone and worry.”

  “You’re not alone anymore. Brant and I will keep you company but first I’m going to go find out what’s going on, okay?” His voice was soft and calming. “Brant will stay here with you while I’m gone and Ali will be here soon. Talia and Spencer, too, I think.”

  She sniffed awkwardly, rolling her eyes miserably. “Great. I’m sure Talia is eager to see me after all this time.”

  “Don’t worry about any of that right now. You have enough going on.” He leaned in a little closer, forcing her to look at him. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s not in Talia’s nature to hold a grudge, and besides, it wouldn’t have been her grudge to hold in the first place.”

  She flicked a glance my way and I nodded, wanting to help ease her mind if only a little. “He’s right. No one is thinking about any of that right now. We’re all here for Teach, and for you.”

  Her gaze moved over my face, taking a slow inventory that made me feel exposed before settling on t
he table between us. “I’ve never met you before today, but you know me already, don’t you? You know what I did?”

  Clay met my tense expression and nodded. He knew I couldn’t lie to her. She would see right through that.

  “Yes. I’m aware of what happened last year. And I also know you were forced to do what you did. We all understand.” I leaned forward and brought my face into her line of sight. “No one blames you for wanting to protect your uncle.”

  Her devastated eyes lingered on mine. “I just wanted him to be okay.” She glanced out the glass window into the empty hall before returning her gaze to me. “I still do. But I have a really bad feeling and there’s nothing I can do to help him now.” Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, though she seemed unaware of them.

  I held her eye and spoke to Clay. “I’ll stay here. Clay, I think it’s time to find out what’s going on with Teach.”

  I saw his nod from the corner of my eye and just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone with her.

  “How about I make us some fresh coffee?” I asked, remembering that each waiting room had a coffee maker and all the provisions stored in the small cabinet above the counter where it sat.

  She blinked slowly and gave me an almost imperceptible nod.

  Happy to have something to do, I jumped up and started the coffee, filling the carafe from the water cooler that sat by the door. As I made my way back to the coffee pot, I cast a glance her way. She sat with her eyes on the table, her expression far away and decidedly defeated.

  It was hard to see someone hurting like that and not help, but I’d never been very good with conversation. I always came off as awkward and weird. After years of social avoidance, I was ill-equipped to be of any use to someone in Lauren’s position. Empty platitudes flashed into my mind but there was no fucking way I was going there. I knew better than anyone how useless it was to tell someone everything would be okay and everything happened for a reason.

  In fact, I could still remember the faces of every single person who had ever approached me with those bullshit lines. I remembered because I’d wanted to bash those faces in. Even now, more than ten years later, I still got angry when I thought about it. Saying shit like that to Lauren now would make me the biggest hypocrite on the planet.