Mangled Hearts
Page 1
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Felicia Tatum Books
PO Box 663
Monterey, TN 38574
www.feliciatatum.com
Copyright © 2014 Felicia Tatum
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any for whatsoever.
ISBN-13: 978-1490519296
ISBN-10: 1490519297
Edited by Jeanie Creech
Formatting and Cover Design by Felicia Tatum
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
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
This book is dedicated to all the “Cade’s” of the world. I hope you find your peace.
The steaming hot water rolled down my skin, leaving a trail of red lines. I lathered the shampoo through my long, dark blonde hair. Closing my eyes, I let the strawberry scent tickle my nose. Inhaling deeply, my lungs filled and my body relaxed. Continuing the gentle massage of my head I thought about the past year, the stress consuming me to the point I missed on much needed rest.
I went through the same routine every morning. Nightmares tortured me throughout the night, reminding me of all that could have been. I woke with the memory fresh on my mind. The day that was forever etched in my brain; my best friend coming to break the heartbreaking news to me, the world shattering before my eyes, and the blur that followed. I always woke in a tangle of blankets and covered in sweat. I would lie in my bed attempting to calm my fast beating heart. My breath would finally slow enough for me to get up and shower.
I finished rinsing my hair and body, the suds covering me like a white, fluffy blanket. The water mixed in with my lingering tears, clearing my face of the night before.
I hurried up the stairs of my building, tripping over my own feet and almost falling flat on my face. “Perfect,” I muttered as I gripped the handrail for support. I bent and slipped the too high heels off. I regularly took my shoes off in the office, so I would just do it a little sooner than usual today. I rushed in the door, raising my hand to wave at the office assistant, Zander. He usually wanted me to stop and chat, but I was running late. I spent too long trying to forget and missed my bus. I ended up walking to work, which wasn’t very fun, and now I might miss a meeting with my boss.
I flung my briefcase on my desk, sending papers flying. I groaned and crawled around the floor picking them up. Pain shot through my head as I rammed it into the desk while attempting to stand. I rubbed the spot in a circle, trying to ease the intensity. I searched for the folder with my notes on the Archuleta case. Slumping in the chair, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. This was the worst Wednesday I’d ever had. Nothing seemed to be going right today, and it was only 9 a.m.
Working as a Worker’s Compensation lawyer for the last three years had been rough on me. Directly after graduating college with my B.S. in Business, I ran off to law school. My thinking then was that I would be in another town with new people, and maybe I could forget. And I did for a brief period, but it didn’t last. After that graduation ceremony, I got a job with a firm back in my hometown, putting me right back to where I started. Only now I had a job I didn’t particularly like, mainly because they treated me like an intern still. Most entry level lawyers were at least able to work on the higher end cases after their second year, but not me. I was still stuck on the simple cases, which frustrated me to no end.
Sighing, I opened the top drawer of my rusted desk to see if the folder was there by some miracle. I shuffled the contents, gasping when I realized it was in my briefcase. Muttering obscenities to myself, I pulled the heavy leather case closer to my seat. The lock clicked as I popped it open to reveal the treasure. I laughed at myself as I opened the folder to ensure all needed papers were present. I moved my feet around under my desk, attempting to find my shoes. I got them on just in time to see my boss walk by on his way to our meeting. I jumped up, sliding the chair away from my desk and rounding the edge to get to the door. “Mr. Phillips,” I called, taking long strides to catch up. It wasn’t difficult, because I was fairly tall for a woman. At five feet, eight inches, I generally stood well above other women. And some men. When I was younger, I hated my height. It seemed that every boy I had a crush on was at least three inches shorter than me, making me feel extremely awkward for most of my teen years. Once I hit my twenties, and grew in confidence, I didn’t mind it as much. If I was attracted to the man, height shouldn’t matter.
“Ms. Taymon,” he said, nodding in acknowledgement.
I smiled politely, and slid in step with him. “Good morning, sir. I was just on my way to our meeting for the Archuleta case.”
“Yes, indeed. I am too. Do you have everything ready?”
I held the folder up for him to see, shaking it a bit. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. We have a conference call with the company at 11 a.m. So this meeting needs to happen fast so we’re prepared.”
Great. A conference call meant he would want to make our final offers today. We had a long meeting ahead of us and I dreaded what would happen. The Archuleta case was about a woman that was injured while driving her company’s car to the post office. A semi-truck rammed into the driver’s side, completely crushing her. She had survived, barely, but her spine had to be completely restructured. She was in a wheelchair, and her doctors seemed uncertain if she would ever walk again. Her company didn’t want to accommodate her new needs, nor did they want to pay the big settlement she deserved. The lawyers at J & B Law Firm were determined to get her the money she would need to survive. I wished I was the lawyer fighting in court, but I was only here to gather facts, numbers, and information. The case would most definitely go to court, because the company felt they were getting the low end of the deal. How they figured they were getting the bad end when Ms. Archuleta may never walk again, I don’t know.
“I’m ready, Mr. Phillips. I have all the information you asked for, and I made a few more notes with relevant facts and cases I came across while researching.”
“You always do a thorough job, Francesca. Thank you. You may sit in on the conference call, if you’d like.”
I nodded, a twinge of pain shooting through me. He said I could “sit in”, not participate. Once again, I was stuck on the sidelines.
I listened intently during the call, though it drove me crazy not being able to chime in when I felt like it. I took notes, hoping to impress Mr. Phillips. I planned to discus
s this with him during my next evaluation, but that was a few months away. After, I gathered my stuff to take back to my office. I had another folder with all the information I’d given Mr. Phillips, in case anything happened to his copies. I filed everything away in the proper places, and pulled my to-do list for the rest of the day out. The conference call set me back a couple of hours, so I’d most likely be staying late tonight. The joys of being a lawyer were few and far between. At least in my current position.
I scribbled down a short list of what I would need to do for the rest of the Archuleta case. I put that paper in my to-do pile, and moved on to the next. Researching old court cases was getting old for me, and I groaned as the list got longer and longer. I mumbled a few words when I heard a man clear his throat. My head snapped up, and my eyes widened in shock. Mr. Phillips stood a few feet from my desk with a smirk on his face. I never heard him come in, so I had no idea how long he had been there or what he heard.
“Oh, Mr. Phillips,” I exclaimed as I stood hastily. My knee connected with the bottom of the desk, causing me to sharply inhale. “I apologize, sir. I didn’t hear you come in.”
He laughed, “It’s alright, Francesca. You work hard, I appreciate that. I have a task for you, that’s why I’m here.”
Hope soared through me. Could he be allowing me to work on a case as the actual lawyer? I couldn’t get too excited. I’d had my hopes and dreams crushed too many times before. “I’d be happy to help. What do you need?”
“One of my close friends from college needs some help. His son hasn’t gotten himself into a bit of trouble and I told him we could help him out.”
Intrigued, I prodded for more info. “Ok, sir. What exactly will you need me to do? Do you need research on something similar?”
He shook his head, and my heart quickened. “No, Francesca. I want you working on the case.”
My mouth fell open but I quickly closed it. “Of course. I’d be happy to work on it. Let me take notes.” I sat, and motioned for him to take a seat in front of me. “Go ahead, I’m ready.” My pen was poised and itching to write.
“Well, first you should know this isn’t a worker’s comp case. I know that’s our specialty, but since he’s a friend, I told him we would take it. His son got into a fight in a bar and the owner pressed charges. Since his boy has gotten into a few fights before, not to mention more than a few tickets, the case will go to court. I just need you to review his record and make sure he doesn’t go to jail. He said he will agree to community service, but he doesn’t want his boy to do time.”
I nodded. “Ok, and the name?”
“His son’s name is Cade Kelling.”
My heart stopped. The shaking of my hand caused the pen to fall and roll across the desk. I watched it make its way all the way to the edge, falling in slow motion to the floor. I’d stopped breathing. I gazed up at Mr. Phillips, trying to make words come out of my mouth. “Cade Kelling?” I whispered.
“Yes, do you know him?”
I nodded slightly. Oh, boy did I know him.