Visibly Broken

by Chelsea Camaron

  Brock gives me a sympathetic glance and a nod before leaving.

  “We need to do some shopping,” Jason tells me as he leans against the doorjamb, looking into the bedroom. “How does that online shit work?”

  “We can go out, Jason.” Apparently, I’m not as convincing as I thought I was.

  “Show me,” he instructs as he walks over and grabs his laptop.

  —

  He walks out of the bathroom, wearing khaki pants and a button-down shirt, looking nervous.

  I look down at myself in a navy blue dress that hits just below my knees and a matching jacket.

  “They’re meeting us at the courthouse. Their plane was delayed,” I tell him.

  “I know. You told me, remember?” he says as he walks toward me.

  “Right. I forgot.” I shake my head.

  “Understandable.” He hesitantly leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek.

  When I reach out and grab his hand like it’s a lifeline; he sighs.

  “Jason, something’s changed,” I say quietly.

  “Everything has changed,” he agrees.

  “Will it always be this way?”

  “I hope so.” His eyes narrow. “Are we okay?”

  “Yes.” I sigh, realizing I’m being ridiculous and knowing I am trying to redirect this nervous energy.

  “Talk to me.” He grips my elbow. “Look at me when you do.”

  “I miss you.” I keep my eyes closed, but I raise my chin.

  “I need the words, Lo.”

  I shake my head.

  “Lo. Talk. To. Me,” he says in a voice I have missed, one that makes my body come to life. “I’m not a mind reader here.”

  I open my eyes and stare into his, heat against heat.

  He steps toward me and raises my arms, resting them on his shoulders. “You need this now?”

  “I always do,” I say with my lip quivering. “But if you don’t—”

  His lips crash into mine, and I open my mouth to his. His tongue caresses mine, and he grips my hips, pulling me snugly against him. I feel his erection against my stomach as he devours my mouth.

  He pulls back and hikes my dress up slowly as he looks down at me. “You think I haven’t craved this?”

  I shrug.

  “Angel, it’s been hell lying next to you every night. I have been giving you time, space—”

  “I didn’t want it. I wanted you.”

  He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around him while he unbuttons his pants, pushes my panties to the side, and rubs himself against my opening.

  “It’s gonna be fast.”

  “Please.” I push against him.

  He thrusts upward, and I cry out.

  “Fuck,” he groans, pivoting his hips as he pushes in farther, walking us toward the kitchen island.

  As soon as my ass hits the granite, he thrusts in and out of me, holding nothing back, not being cautious or going easy. He is giving me exactly what I need, and I quickly fall apart, connected to him.

  —

  When we walk into our home with my grandparents, he watches them as they appraise his home—our home. He carries their bags to the spare bedroom, and I look at my grandmother, whose arm has been wrapped around my waist since we got out of the car.

  “So, this boy…?”

  “Jason.” I nod and look at her.

  “Do you love this Jason?”

  “I do, and he loves me, too.” I smile.

  “And he’s the one…” She pauses.

  “He saved me.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “He loves me. I feel safe with him.”

  “Then we love him, too.” She smiles. “Very much.”

  I look up and see him stop dead in his tracks when he hears her. He takes in a deep breath and swallows hard.

  “Jason,” my grandfather says, extending his hand. “I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”

  “No need.” He nods. “I would do anything for her.”

  My grandmother sobs into her hands. “We should have been here.”

  “I should have come with you. I should have left—”

  Jason is at my side, holding my head against his chest. “No, you were both where you were supposed to be, and the assholes responsible are behind fucking bars.”

  “Come home with us now,” my grandmother cries, and Jason tenses. “Come home with us.”

  “My home is with Jason. But I promise I won’t hide from you or push you away anymore.” I reach out and hug her.

  “And we promise, if you try, we won’t let you. I wasn’t strong enough then,” my grandmother says, wrapping her arms around Jason and me. “I am so sorry, Lorraine.”

  —

  As we lie in bed that night after quietly making love, Jason asks me, “What ties do you have to this place?”

  “You,” I answer honestly.

  “I’m ready for a change if you are.” He looks down at me. “Nothing is holding me here. If you wanna leave this hellhole, I’m with you every step of the way. I love you, Lo. I love you so much.”

  Epilogue: Jason

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  She is on her back in the entryway with her dress bunched up around her waist. Her panties are on the floor beside us. I carried her across the threshold to our new home in Ormond Beach, Florida, before laying her down and breaking our home in right.

  Lifting her legs onto my shoulders, I drop my head to her pussy and lick her outer lips before parting them and rolling my tongue over her nub as I tease her opening. She rocks her hips, wanting more. When she cries out my name, I lean back and release my cock, sliding into her.

  “Couldn’t make it any farther, huh?” she says breathlessly while I’m not holding back.

  “Fuck no,” I say with a smile before crashing my mouth onto hers. I taste the mint she ate earlier, and her pussy juices mix with the taste in the most delicious way. I break away and growl against her ear. “Angel, I’m just getting started.”

  She laughs, and I swear I have died and gone to heaven. I’m balls deep inside her in our home we recently purchased while she is carefree. Yeah, it doesn’t get any better.

  The hold of the past was left in Detroit. The cycle of abuse ends there. We both agreed we would start fresh with each other and not let the past define our future.

  I used my paid leave from the city to put my condo on the market. I declined the first offer since I’m pretty sure my father was behind it. When multiple offers started coming in, the place actually got into a bidding war that earned me ten thousand over my asking price.

  Since Lorraine and I have no ties to Detroit anymore, and she wanted a chance with her grandparents, we made the move to Florida. They live in Deltona, which isn’t too far away. Using the money from the sale of my place, we put a nice down payment on our new construction, four-bedroom, three-bathroom house with a pool. We had been staying in a studio apartment until we could get into this place. Home sweet fucking home.

  I scored a job with the contractor who built the home. There is nothing more satisfying for me than to see something come together from the ground up by my hands. It’s rewarding. I have never been afraid of hard work. With Lo by my side, I’m even more determined to make it my way this time.

  Lorraine had to have her nursing license approved from Detroit to Florida, which took some time and a test, but she is certified here now. She also found a job at a pediatric doctor’s office, so no more night shifts, twelve-hour shifts, or weekend work.

  We both leave early in the morning and come home to have our dinner together before going to bed and repeating the same thing the next day. There is calmness in having a routine. More than that, there is calmness in knowing Lo is with me through everything.

  I slide into her as I find my release. “You are home, Lo.”

  She looks up at me, her angel blue eyes finding their way to lock onto my green ones. She wraps her arms around me tightly and says, “As long as I’m with you, I’m always home.”
r />   Lo

  Home.

  How could a word with only four letters mean more than anything one could ever have imagined? It’s more than a house, more than four walls, more than a place to hang your hat.

  Home.

  If you asked me four years ago what home was, I would have shuddered at the thought of it. My home—the place I was raised, loved, nurtured, belonged—became my hell. Not only did I accept it, but I embraced it. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to be in a world that my family was not. I couldn’t be anywhere else, either. Not until I brought their killer to justice.

  Hate and fear overtook my heart. The only time I felt like it was still beating was while at work, because I felt needed. I felt like I could do something that mattered. I felt like I could save people.

  I am graced with Jason’s laugh, with his dimple, his love, and his touch every day. I give it back to him without question.

  Jason, the man who told me he was bad, is far from it. He is my hero, my savior, my love, and now my home.

  In his arms, I am safe. His past is just that. He is no monster—not in the dark, not in the light. He was raised in a way that it would be expected, but he was stronger than his past. He broke those chains. No, he shattered them, and then he helped me. No, he forced me to do the same.

  We were both damaged. We are no more. We have scars and memories that will fade in time and the light. No more hiding in the darkness.

  No more.

  We now live.

  I stand in the bathroom at the pediatric office where I now work in always sunny Florida. Jason suggested I work somewhere where death is not inevitable but where life surrounds me.

  There is a knock on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?” It is Dr. Laura.

  I open the door and smile as I walk out. “I am great, actually.”

  “You sure? Sometimes, news like this can be overwhelming.” She gives me a shoulder hug as we walk past reception, and I realize everyone has gone for the day.

  “I’m sorry I held you up,” I tell her, grabbing my coat and purse.

  “No hold up at all.” She hands me a paper bag as we walk toward the door leading outside. “Have a great weekend.”

  —

  I pull into the garage where Jason is pacing. I know he worries when I am even a few minutes late, even if he doesn’t want to. It’s not going to change anytime soon, especially now.

  I sit back and look at him. His hair is less spiky now, it’s wavier and softer. His after-shower look is incredibly sexy.

  He tilts his head to the side, and his beautiful green eyes narrow a bit. Then he juts his head forward as his palms turn up. He has no idea what I am doing, and for some reason, that makes me laugh.

  He walks over and opens the door to the car. “Lo, you’re late.”

  I can’t help laughing harder.

  “I sure am.”

  He sighs and squats down. “You’re home now.”

  The concern in his expression somehow begs me to calm down. I don’t want him to think I’m regressing, because I’m not.

  “We’re home,” I say, taking his face in my hands and kissing him.

  “Mm…” he moans, leaning in and taking control of the kiss just like I need, want, and desire.

  After a few moments, I pull back and rub my thumb up his jaw. “I am late. Very, very, very late, and until today, I didn’t realize just how late.”

  He looks at me curiously, and I smile and nod.

  “I threw up—”

  He immediately brings his hand to my forehead. “You should be resting.”

  “I threw up, and then realized how late I am.”

  He shakes his head, clearly not understanding what I’m saying.

  I take his hand and hold it to my stomach. “I am late.”

  “Let’s get you inside. I’ll make you some soup and—”

  “No, Jason.” I reach over and grab the bag sitting in the seat next to me then hand it to him. “A gift…of sorts.”

  He opens it immediately, needing answers. My love is not all that patient. That is surely about to change.

  He pulls out the long, narrow, rectangular plastic stick and looks at it. “Is this…?”

  “Yes.” I wrap my arms around him and hug him.

  “Lo,” he sighs. “We’re going to have—”

  “A baby.” I pull back, wanting to see his reaction.

  His face is blank before he swallows hard. For a moment, I second-guess myself. He may need more time to get used to the idea.

  When he closes his eyes tightly, a tear falls then another and another. I kiss them away.

  He pulls me out of the car and holds me securely against him.

  “You’re happy,” I tell him. “You’re going to be such a good father, Jason.”

  My feet leave the ground as he spins me in a circle, laughing like I was minutes ago.

  My feet hit the ground, and he grabs each side of my face.

  “Angel.” He gets choked up again and kisses me gently, softly, lovingly, and then sighs. “I’m going to be the best father in the universe.”

  “I know you are.”

  “I—” He clears his throat and smiles. “I want a dozen.”

  I smile back. “Let’s start with one.”

  “I’m serious, Lo. We’re going to have so many kids. We’re gonna show them what home is, what love is.”

  I nod. “Yes, we are.”

  “Nobody loves like we do, Lo. Nobody.”

  “I love our love.”

  “There’s no deeper out there.”

  I lean in to kiss him, but he leans back. “Is there a chance two may be in there?” He puts his hand on my belly and kneels down in front of me, inching my scrub top up.

  I giggle as he looks at my stomach, no doubt wishing he had X-ray vision.

  “There is a possibility, but—”

  “I think I see two,” he says before kissing my tummy, making me squirm. “Hold still.” He leans back on his heels and shakes his head. “Hey, it’s your father. I don’t know you yet, but I love you so damn much.” A tear falls as he leans his head against my tummy. “Your mom and I have broken free of the chains that held us. We are stronger than ever because we stand together, so strong. I am the man I have always wanted to be because of her. I am going to be an even better man for you.”

  Tears fall freely down my face as he looks up. “We’re their home, angel.”

  I nod as he stands and hugs me. “I love you so much, Jason.”

  “I know, Lo. I love you as much.” He holds me tight, and I know without a doubt that our life will continue getting better and better every day.

  This book is for everyone. Your past does not define your future. Fight to move forward and let nothing and no one stand in your way. Nobody can beat you down. You have the fight inside to overcome all obstacles in your path.

  Acknowledgments

  To our Loveswept team, we thank you for another opportunity to give a little good in a world full of bad—but with a darker twist.

  To every reader who has given us a chance, we sincerely love you and appreciate you.

  To MJ: You know I love you—ride or die, baby, love CC.

  BY CHELSEA CAMARON AND MJ FIELDS

  Caldwell Brothers

  Hendrix

  Morrison

  Jagger

  Visibly Broken

  About the Authors

  USA Today bestselling author CHELSEA CAMARON grew up turning wrenches alongside her father, which just so happened to inspire her Love and Repair and The Hellions Ride series. When she’s not writing, you can find her playing with her kids, attending car shows, going on motorcycle rides on the back of her husband’s Harley, snuggling down with her new favorite book, or watching any movie that Vin Diesel might happen to be in. She lives in Louisiana with her husband and two children. Join her newsletter for updates.

  authorchelseacamaron.com

  Facebook.com/​authorchelseacamaron


  @chelseacamaron

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  MJ FIELDS is the USA Today bestselling author of the Love series, the Wrapped series, the Burning Souls series, the Men of Steel series, the Ties of Steel series, the Rockers of Steel series, the Norfolk series, and the Caldwell series. A former small-business owner who recently became a full-time writer, Fields lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Join her newsletter for updates:

  mjfieldsbooks.com

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  Read on for an excerpt from

  My Song for You

  Pushing Limits

  by Stina Lindenblatt

  Available from Loveswept

  Chapter 1

  Jared

  Loneliness was a bitch. True, that wasn’t the most convincing statement when surrounded by a group of screaming girls in a sports bar, girls eager to touch any part of your body they can get their hands on. And try telling that to a horny twentysomething guy. This place was a smorgasbord of groupies interested in a quick lay.

  Not that I was complaining.

  So far I loved what I did for a living. I loved the fans, and I loved hanging out with the guys in the band, even during our last grueling tour. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that despite the music, the fans, and the band, despite how hard we had worked and how much we had sacrificed to get this far, something was missing.

  But hell if I knew what it was.

  “Oh my God,” the girl in the super-tight white tank top shrieked, jumping up and down on the polished floor. Her huge tits bounced like overinflated beach balls. “I can’t believe it’s you. You’re like my favorite guitarist of all time.”

  I flashed her the smile that always left girls sighing. Mason, the drummer for Pushing Limits, claimed that smile guaranteed I’d get laid. I wasn’t so sure about that. “Well, thanks. You just made my day.” I had already used the same tired line five times in the past fifteen minutes. But as long as the girls at the radio-station-sponsored event didn’t compare notes, they’d be fine.