Scattered Pieces

by Allie Able

  Scattered Pieces

  A Cape Isle Novel

  Allie Able

  Scattered Pieces

  Copyright © 2015 Allie Able

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Allie Able

  Formatting: Champagne Formats

  First Edition: December 2015

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Scattered Pieces

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Epilogue

  Resources

  Author Note

  About the Author

  To the two people who taught me the meaning of love, this one is for you. You are the reason that I believe in fairy tales. I miss you and I love you.

  Acknowledgements

  I have to say a huge thank you to my husband. I would have never been able to chase my dreams without you. Thank you for listening to my constant rambling and for letting me lock myself away for hours at a time to write. I love you my honey bunches.

  Thank you to my daughters for being the amazing little girls that you are. My love for you both is never ending.

  Thank you to Author Sandi Lynn for your patience and putting up with my random questions.

  Thank you to all of my friends and family who, when they found out I wanted to write a book, didn't laugh in my face.

  Thank you to anyone who has ever inspired me or believed in me. I couldn't have done any of this without you.

  Scattered Pieces

  Prologue

  THE WINE GLASS SHATTERS AS it hits the dining room wall. I can feel myself begin to shake, as I lower my eyes to the table.

  “You stupid bitch! Can you not do anything right?” he shouts.

  I know this question is directed at me, but I'm just not sure if he wants me to answer him or not.

  “Can you hear me, Summer, or are you too fucking ignorant to answer a simple question?”

  Okay, so he obviously wants me to answer. The old me would have made some smart ass remark, but I know better than to do that now. It is so much easier to just give him the answer he wants to hear and not make this last longer than it has to. It has been the same thing almost every night for the last five years. The yelling and insults aren't always about me spilling a drop of red wine on the pristine carpet, but in his eyes I always do something wrong. Nothing I do is ever good enough. By this point in my life, I have started to believe the awful things he says about me are true.

  “I'm sorry, Ryan. I didn't mean to,” I reply. I continue to look down at the table, but inside my head I'm wondering, why is it that, when I spill just a little drop of wine, I am reprimanded, however, he can throw a whole damn glass of it against the wall.

  “You didn't mean to,” he sneers mockingly at me.

  I set the bottle of wine down on the table and move towards the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies, knowing there is no way I am going to get that red wine stain out. It's almost comical to me that my only concern right now is how I'm going to get the stain out of the carpet.

  As I come out of the kitchen, I notice Ryan is staring at me. I quickly advert my eyes, trying not to make eye contact. I know from experience it will only make him angrier, if I look directly at him.

  “What are you doing?” he demands in harsh voice.

  “I'm going to pick up the glass and try to get the stain out of the carpet, before it dries,” I respond quietly.

  I bend down and start collecting the tiny pieces of glass off of the carpet, trying my hardest to not cut myself. I'm somewhat impressed that I almost keep my voice from trembling in fear, however, I don't quite succeed and Ryan notices. He notices everything. Out of the corner of my eye I can see a smirk playing on his lips. He enjoys making me fear him. This is all just a game to him.

  “Not while I'm eating dinner, Summer. You can do that when I'm finished,” he says, dismissing me with a wave of his hand, like I'm some kind of servant. “Go and get me another glass of wine and this time try not to be such a fuck-up.”

  I stand up and simply nod my head in response, as I take the cleaning supplies back into the kitchen. I know he will not want them in his sight while he eats.

  I get him another glass from the cabinet and I notice my hands are shaking. I start praying, to whomever is listening, that I will be able to pour his drink without spilling anymore.

  I stand beside him and, as I begin to pour, I feel his hand come to rest on the back of my bare leg. My body automatically stiffens. Oh my God, please don't. He slowly starts moving his hand up, until it is resting under my dress. I move away, hoping that he will understand the unspoken message. I don't want to have sex with him. He roughly grabs my upper leg and pulls me back towards him.

  “Where do you think your going?” he hisses.

  “Your dinner will get cold, Ryan,” I whisper.

  He lets out harsh laugh and starts rubbing higher on my leg. This time I know he's not going to stop. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to muster up as much courage as I can, so that I can try to have sex with my husband, but it's useless. The closer his hand gets to my panties the more I feel the need to vomit. How did this become my life? At one time I loved this man, but slowly, over the past five years, he has killed that love.

  “Ryan, I just don't want to right now. Maybe later?” I mumble softly, hoping that he will just let me go.

  He squeezes me hard over my panties and growls, “What in the hell did you just say to me?”

  I've never told him no and thankfully he hasn't wanted to have sex with me in almost a year. I'm not stupid, I know he was screwing some woman from the country club, but I was just happy he was getting it from her and not me.

  He stands from his chair and glares down at me, almost as if he is daring me to tell him no, again.

  “I'm just not in the mood right n
ow,” I whisper, trying a different approach.

  A dark look passes over his face and he slaps me.

  I'm accustomed to Ryan's cruel games. He likes to fuck with my mind and he occasionally uses me as a punching bag, but he doesn't usually hit me in the face. His family is well known in this community and if I were to go out in public with bruises, people would start to ask too many questions.

  While I'm cupping my burning face in my hands, he grabs my long hair and yanks me towards him. I let out a loud cry, as I feel my hair being pulled out from the roots. My scream only causes him to tighten his hold.

  “Shut the fuck up, Summer! Look at what you made me do!” he yells.

  I whimper and start to beg, “Please stop, you're hurting me”.

  He spins me around and slams my face into the side of the table. I can feel the bone in my cheek crack and my vision goes blurry.

  “Do you think I give a shit?” he shouts, while snatching my head backwards, so that I'm looking upside down at him.

  I can feel the blood rolling down my face, as I stare into his furious eyes. His eyes are black and they have wild look in them, that I have never seen before. I am looking at a man completely unhinged.

  I start to struggle, trying to break free from his hold. I know that if I don't get away, I may not make it out of this house alive this time. He has never taken it this far before and I know he would rather die, or kill me, than ruin his perfect reputation. He starts to drag me out of the room, by my hair, and I let out another scream, hoping that the neighbors will hear me.

  He suddenly turns around to face me and lets go of my hair. The abrupt change in direction causes me to lose my balance and I fall to the floor. He takes full advantage of my new position and starts kicking me in the face. I curl into a ball, trying to protect my head the best I can. After a few solid kicks, he moves lower and starts kicking me in the stomach. I feel my breath leave me in a painful rush, when he connects with my ribs. Many years of experience tells me that he just broke or cracked at least one of my them.

  He continues kicking me, as he yells, “I told you to shut the fuck up!”

  He gets down on the floor behind me and rolls me onto my back, landing blow after blow to my face, with his closed fist. He stops and I feel one his hands come around my throat and squeeze. I start clawing at his arms and hands trying to get him to let go. His other hand grabs my arms and holds them immobile above my head. My vision is starting to go black and I know it's only a matter of time before I pass out or he kills me.

  He bends down until he is almost nose to nose with me. “You can tell me no, Summer, but I am still going to take what is fucking mine!” he grits out, through clenched teeth.

  He lets go of my neck and, as I am gasping for air, he turns me over onto my stomach, pining me to the floor with his forearm. I know I have to get away from him, but his size and strength are no match for me. He pulls my dress up over my legs and rips my panties away from my body. He roughly yanks my legs apart and in that moment I know that, on the floor in my living room, I am going to loose even more pieces of myself.

  * * *

  I slowly open my eyes. My head it throbbing and I can see light starting to filter through the windows, but I don't know how long I have been passed out. I strain to try and hear any sounds in the house. I don't know if Ryan is home or if he plans on coming back. I know I need to get up and find my cell phone, so that I can call for help, but my brain is so scrambled, it feels like I'm in a fog. I try to get to my feet several times, before I finally succeed. I hold on to the wall and make my way towards the kitchen. My eyes are so swollen that its hard for me to see. I feel around on the counter, until my hand finally makes contact with my phone. I flip it open and dial 911. As soon as I hear the operators voice, I begin to sob.

  “I'm hurt,” I gasp through my sobbing.

  “Ma'am, where is your emergency?” she asks.

  “I'm hurt,” I say again.

  “Ma'am, I need to know your address,” she says more forcefully this time.

  I rattle off our address, as quickly as I can, knowing that at any moment Ryan could come back.

  “Please hurry,” I cry.

  “Okay, sweetie, I have them on the way. Where are you injured?”

  “I think it's mostly my head and face. I'm pretty sure at least one of my ribs is broken. Last night, my husband attacked me. I must have passed out, because I just woke up on the floor in the living room.” I tell her as many details as I can remember, wanting someone to know Ryan did this, in case he shows up before the ambulance or police do.

  “Where is your husband now?” she asks.

  “I don't know. I found my cell phone and called for help. He may still be in the house,” I whisper. I can hear the fear in my voice.

  “An ambulance is on the way. Just stay on the phone with me until they get there,” she reassures me, in a calming tone.

  I can hear the sirens wailing in the distance, but I can feel the darkness starting to pull me under again. My last thought before the darkness takes me is, if I can just survive this, I am finally going to escape from the monster that I call my husband.

  Chapter One

  Summer

  Nine Months Later

  THE SMELL OF FRESHLY BAKED cupcakes fills the air. It's still early in the morning and I have another hour before I open my bakery. After another sleepless night, I decided to come in a little early and try out a new cupcake recipe.

  I have always loved to bake. My parents bought me an Easy Bake Oven when I was six, and I haven't stopped making sweets since. After my parents died, baking became a way for me to relieve stress. In some weird way, it makes me feel closer to my mom and I can't help but smile, while I move the hot cakes, onto the cooling rack.

  Nine months ago, I had no clue what I was going to do with my life. I met Ryan while getting my business degree at Vanderbilt University in Tennessee. We married right after graduation, when I was only the tender age of 22, and I have spent the last six years as a house wife. My parents passed away, in a car accident, when I was 19. I still had money from their life insurance policy, so I knew I had money to fall back on. The problem was I just didn't know what to do with my life. While I was married to Ryan, he dictated everything. I wasn't allowed to leave the house most of the time, much less work.

  After I left him, I went to stay with my Aunt Lila for two months, before I finally started to pick up the pieces of my life and try to move on the best I could. She was the one who finally gave me the push to do something. I knew I couldn't stay in Tennessee much longer. Even though Ryan was still in prison, and would be for about two years, I wanted away from Tennessee and the memories that haunted me every day. Aunt Lila's friend, Korean, lived in Cape Isle, South Carolina and she took me with her, when she went for a weekend vacation. I fell in the love with the small coastal town at first sight. After that visit, I knew this was where I wanted to start my life. As soon as we got home, I began looking on the internet for a house and retail space for my bakery. Within a month, I moved from my Aunt's home in Tennessee, to my new home in South Carolina.

  A knock on the door pulls my attention away from my inner musings. I look up and see Lexie smiling and waving. I wave back, as I make my way towards the door.

  “You're here early,” I say, opening the door.

  “I could say the same thing about you, boss lady,” she says, as she walks towards the kitchen.

  “What are these?” she asks, gesturing towards the cupcakes.

  “I came in early to try out a new recipe. It is a key lime cupcake. I'm going to top it with white chocolate frosting and garnish it with a key lime zest.”

  I walk over to the now cooled cupcakes, pick one up and begin to frost it. Once it's frosted to my liking, I sprinkle a little Key lime garnish on top of it.

  “Do you want to try it?” I ask, while holding the cupcake out to her. I can barely finish my sentence, before Lexie is grabbing it from me.

  “Yes please!�
��

  I watched in amusement as she shoves half of it in her mouth. I wait for her to swallow the first bite before I ask, “Good?”

  Her response is a muffled, “So yummy.” She shoves the other half into her mouth, finishing the cupcake in record time.

  “I'm going to gain 50 pounds working here,” she says, rubbing her flat stomach.

  I smile and shake my head, as I start to prepare the other cupcakes to put into the display case.

  Lexie dusts the crumbs off of her hands and asks, “What do you need me to do?”

  “I already have most of the baking done for now,” I say, looking down at my watch and seeing that it's almost time to open, “you can start loading the scones into the display case.”

  She nods her head and moves to the front of the shop.

  Once I have all of the cupcakes frosted and garnished, I take them to the front to put them on the cupcake display.

  “So you couldn't sleep again?” I hear Lexie ask from behind me, as I'm putting away the last cupcake.

  “What makes you think that?” I ask, turning to face her, “maybe I just felt like baking.”

  Lexie gives me a serious look. “I'm not dumb, Summer. You have dark circles under your eyes. You are always gorgeous, but that really isn't a good look for you.”

  Over the past six months, I have shared with her a little about my marriage to Ryan. I hired Lexie just a few weeks after I opened my shop. Within the first week of opening my bakery, I knew I was going to need help. It was a lot busier than I thought it was going to be and after being alone so much the past six years, my social skills left a lot to be desired. One morning she walked in and asked if I was hiring. She had just moved back home to Cape Isle and she was in desperate need of a job. I instantly liked the bubbly blonde and hired her on the spot.

  I look over at her now and see that she is still staring at me, waiting for an answer. “I'm fine Lexie,” I tell her, hoping she will just drop the subject, but I know by the look in her eye that she's not letting it go.

  “We're going dancing this weekend,” she demands.