Tattered
By Brooke O’Brien
Table of Contents
Title Page
Tattered (Tattered Heart Duet, #2)
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Where I Found You
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Books by Brooke
Playlist
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About Brooke
Connect with Brooke
Tattered: Tattered Heart Duet (#2)
Copyright © 2018 by Brooke O’Brien
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permissions of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which has been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Visit Brooke’s website at www.authorbrookeobrien.com.
Cover Art © Najla Qamber, Najla Qamber Designs
Cover Photo © Shutterstock
Edited by Rox LeBlanc, Roxs Reads
Proofread by Julie Deaton, Deaton Author Services
Dedication
This book is dedicated to anyone holding onto hope that love will find its way back to them.
Prologue
Mav,
Waking up this morning to find you gone has been hard to accept. I keep looking over at where you slept next to me, hoping I’d wake up and this will have all been a dream. You may not have believed in what was between us, but I did. I know how I felt every time you looked at me and kissed me.
I don’t know when I’ll see you again or if you’ll ever come back home to Everton. Reading your letter, I find myself wanting to hold onto the hope you’ll find your way back to me. As long as I have hope, I’ll wait for you. I’m going to keep believing in what I felt for you since we first met and hope someday you’ll come home to me.
Love,
R
One
MAVERICK ~ FOUR YEARS LATER
It’s been years since I’ve got a full night’s sleep. As the days have passed, sleep is starting to feel like a distant memory. The nightmares that plagued me were just a reminder of the hell I was reliving when I was awake. After two tours, one in Iraq and the other in Afghanistan, these nightmares haven’t seemed to let up. The only difference now is the monsters chasing me wear a new face.
Life has delivered a bitter pill that I haven’t been able to swallow. It’s hardened my heart, which when you’re in the military, is exactly what you need to serve. If you let shit get you down or get lost in your emotions, you’ll end up taking your eyes off the purpose of why you’re here.
I know what can happen if you do. You make mistakes, and if you’re not careful, you may end up being called home, and I’m not talking in the way you want to be either.
The heat from the humid air is stifling as sweat drips down my forehead. Crossing my arms beneath my head, I adjust the pillow as I close my eyes and enjoy a few minutes of silence.
My platoon and I are about seven months into our time in Kabul, Afghanistan. We’re still waiting to hear the official word, but sometime in the next two weeks we should be making our trip back home and fuck if I’m not ready to set foot back on American soil.
“Night, wake up. You got a call.”
The loud command bounces off the walls of the tent as I peek my eye open.
James peers his head into the tent. There’s a look of surprise on his face as he nods his head toward the tent on the other side of our bunk.
Letters sent to me are few and far between, much less a phone call, so I know, like me, he’s wondering what’s going on. Once he sees I’m awake, his head disappears again. I wonder who the hell could be trying to get in touch with me.
Stepping out of the tent, my eyes glance at the picnic tables set up outside on the base. Several of the guys are sitting around, playing cards and shootin’ the shit. There’s not much to pass the time, but you’d be surprised at what you can come up with to keep your mind off what’s going on outside the base.
My eyes connect with James standing off to the side. His arms are crossed as he looks on at the other guys playing a game of cards.
“Who is it?”
“No name, but sounded important.”
I nod my head. I don’t have a good feeling about this and I’d like to get this over with.
Stepping into the Communications Center, I pick up the phone and press the line, connecting the call.
“This is Maverick Night,” I state, swallowing down the ball in my throat.
“Mav.” It’s hard to hear through this phone but I can make out the voice.
“Dean?”
“Yeah, buddy. I’m sorry to call you like this. It took jumping through some hoops to get in touch but listen, your grandmother contacted me yesterday. She was looking for some help in trying to reach you. Got some news for you about your dad.”
He pauses for a moment, and I want to tell him to spit it out already. After our fight, I didn’t talk to him for several months. When I got back home from basic training, there was a letter from him waiting for me along with one from Ryan. I know Dean holds a lot of regret for the way shit went down. I needed him to know me enlisting wasn’t his fault.
Every time I’ve called him to check in, I fight the urge to ask him what I really want to know. How is Ryan? Is she seeing anyone? Does she miss me as much as I fucking miss her?
“He passed away, man. They’re saying his liver failed.”
His words rattle around in my head as I replay them over and over.
He is gone.
The mother fucker is actually gone.
I should be surprised at the age of fifty-three, but I know he stopped taking care of himself long before we lost my mom. Her passing away just sped up the process. He started drinking heavier, which led to his anger. I doubt he’s even been to the doctor since I left, so any signs or symptoms likely went missed.
“Shit,” I mutter, not knowing what to say. “What are the plans then?”
Running my hand over my face, I clench my hand around my jaw as I think of everything that needs to be arranged. The only people my dad had was his brother, Richard, who I don’t think he’s talked to in over fifteen years and my grandmother. The last thing I want to do is put this on her.
“We’re still working it out. I’ll help her get everything taken care of, man. No worries, I’ll be there. Just let me know what you need.”
“I’ll figure out how soon I can get out of here. I’ll try to give you a call later this evening after I talk to my sergeant.”
Dean fills me in on his plan to go with my grandmother to figure out the details. Disconnecting the call, I scrub my hands over my face. I don’t even know how I feel hearing the news. There’s a part of me that almost feels relieved to know I won’t have to f
ace him again.
I walk across the base toward the Command Center, ducking my head as I step inside.
“Sir, do you have a moment?”
I’ve served the last two tours with Sergeant Jackson. He’s grown to be more of a father to me than my own father in a lot of ways. I hold an immense amount of respect for him.
“Of course,” he says, setting the papers he was shuffling through down on the table. “Everything alright?”
“I just took a call patched over to me from my friend back home. He wanted to let me know my father passed away yesterday. I was hoping I could talk to you about taking a short leave to help get everything in order.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” he says.
I want to tell him his sympathy is not necessary, that he doesn’t deserve anyone’s sadness. Saying that will bring on an onslaught of unwanted questions, so I simply respond with a nod.
“You do what you need to do. We’re about to button up things here before we follow you back home, too. Don’t bother joining us. We’ll see you back home in the States soon.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir. It should only be a few, three maybe four days at the most, depending on when I get a flight back home. I’d like to come back and finish with the rest of the guys.”
“I figured you would say that, but I’ll have to decline. We should be heading back shortly after anyway, and it wouldn’t serve a purpose to bring you back only to have you return home in a short time. Go home, take care of what you need to, and report to the base when you get everything in order.”
I don’t press it further.
“I’ll see what I can do to arrange you a flight first thing in the morning. Let me know if there is anything I can do before you take off.”
Clenching my jaw, I nod my head and lean forward to shake his hand.
As much as I want to help finish things off here, I’m relieved to know my time left in this sandy hell is coming to an end very soon. It isn’t until I’m back in my bunk packing that it hits me; this will be the first time in four years I will be back in Everton.
My mind floats back to the phone call with Dean and my thoughts of Ryan. I think about how she looked our last night together, standing outside of her house in the pitch black. Her hair pulled over her shoulder and her boxer shorts rolled at the waist, showing her smooth tan skin on her legs. I hated walking away from her the next morning, I couldn’t even work up the courage to say goodbye. I hated knowing I was leaving the only peace I had found since my dad moved us to Everton.
Pulling out the only picture I have of her from my wallet, I sit down on the edge of the mattress. Running my finger along the worn edges, my heart warms looking at her. The edge of her lip is curled, the smirk lining her mouth.
Fuck, I miss her.
* * *
The next day was long. I was taken to Germany where I was delivered to the U.S. Army base, then later, boarded a flight bringing me back to the States. When I arrived in Des Moines, I texted Graham to see if he could pick me up from the airport. We had exchanged a few text messages throughout the day, so I knew he had an important meeting about the security company he and Dean were opening.
Feeling tired after all the traveling, I opted to hail a cab and head to the hotel just a few minutes away. The exhaustion was starting to set in, and I was ready to take a much needed nap.
Stepping outside, I’m met with a wall of humidity. Unlike the dry heat I am used to, this heat is completely different. I can feel the perspiration dotting my forehead the moment I step outside. A cab pulls right in front of me, and I send up a silent prayer of thanks it was this easy for me to catch a lift.
Adjusting my duffel bag on my shoulder, I glance down at my phone vibrating in my hand when the door of the cab swings open, hitting me in the arm. The force knocks my cell phone out of my hand and sends it crashing to the ground. My eyes wince as I watch it slide along the hard concrete.
“You really should pay attention to where you’re walking.”
I could remember that snarky tone anywhere, reminding me of the first day we met. My head jolts in the direction it came from. I’m not able to see her face, but I can tell by the back of her head it’s her. She still has the same long, dark hair covered up by her usual backward snapback. She’s dressed in her T-shirt, tied at her waist, paired with cut-off denim shorts and Chucks.
My eyes follow her movement as she leans forward to pick up her suitcase, carrying it around to the back of the cab and tossing it into the trunk. I can’t help but eat up every inch of her skin. I’m drawn to the ink covering her arm to the dreamcatcher covering her toned thigh.
She looks so much like the girl I remember, but she’s different, too.
Leaning over, I grab the back passenger door and hold it open for her, waiting for her to close the trunk and see me. Judging by her comment, I don’t know that she realized it was me. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let her get away without sharing a cab with her.
When her hands reach up to close the trunk, our eyes connect. Hers widen in shock as her mouth drops open.
“Mav.”
My name comes out more of a question, as if asking herself if it’s really me. She may look different, but I know I don’t look like the same kid she said goodbye to either. My hair is shaved close to my scalp. The tattoos covering my arm are, in a lot of ways, thanks to her. Her artwork growing up inspired a lot of the pieces that are now forever etched into my skin. Her eyes roam over my body, to the duffel bag slung over my shoulder.
Nodding my head, I reply, “Ryan. It’s good to see you.”
I hold the door open and wave my hand in front of me, encouraging her to climb inside. Her eyes furrow for a moment before she quickly looks up at me. I’m waiting for the inevitable remark to come because when has Ryan ever ignored the opportunity to provide her smart-ass commentary?
“You followin’ me around again, Maverick?” Her lip curls up on the edge and I fight off the urge to kiss the smirk right off her sexy mouth.
“Don’t tempt me, Rebel.” The double meaning is clear. She knows I’d follow her and not do a damn thing to hide it. I also am not even trying to disguise the look of desire on my face.
Pulling her sunglasses from where they are hung on the front of her tank top, she slides them over her face.
“I figured we could share a ride. I’m feeling a little nostalgic after the last time we took a ride together.”
“You think you’ll be able to keep your hands to yourself this time around?”
I wish I could see her eyes, so I could read her expression. I’m not sure if she’s baiting me or if that’s what she really wants.
Tilting my head in close to her neck, I let my breath feather across her skin as I whisper, “When I get the chance to put my hands on you again, Rebel, I promise it will be because we both want it. You may even find yourself begging for it.”
Two
RYAN
He always loved to rile me up. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact he’s standing in front of me. In a matter of two minutes, we’ve slipped back into our comfortable familiarity, as if the last four years and hundreds of miles hadn’t separated us.
“Now get in and slide over because I’m riding with you.”
Maverick disappears to the back of the cab, pounds his hand on the trunk, waiting for it to pop before climbing in the backseat next to me. He tells the driver to take me wherever I need to go first. After I rattle off the address, he hits the gas like the cops are hot on our heels, and I’m forced to accept Maverick is here, with me in the back of the cab.
I’ve spent the last four years waiting for the day he came back to Everton. For the first few months after I sent him the letter, I hoped he would change his mind. I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to pick up my board again until the night I found out he was deployed to Iraq.
When Dean called me with the news, I raced home and picked up
the worn piece of wood and rode down to the river. Until that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to go down there. The place held such a special memory of our last night together. Sitting on the edge of the dock, I stared up at the starry night sky and wondered what he was doing and if he was thinking of me, too. The nights when he felt so far away, I found myself back down there just wanting to feel closer to him again.
I feel his eyes on me, burning holes into the side of my face. Being in such a small space together again, you could cut the tension in the air. It’s like my body feels the trace of his gaze running over me, and I fight off the urge to turn and ask him why it took him so long to come back.
“How’s life been treating you?” he asks, as if reading my thoughts.
Leaning against the car door, I glance over at Mav and let my eyes rake over his body. It’s hard not to stare at him. He’s changed so much since we last saw each other. He was always muscular; years of skating and working out left his body chiseled in all the right places. He’s different now though.
He doesn’t attempt to shy away from the way my eyes burn into him the same way his did mine. It’s been too long since I had him next to me, so I let my eyes drink him in.
“It’s been forever since I last saw you. I guess when I think about how long ago that was, it feels like so much has changed. I thought you were still overseas?”
It’s my attempt to change the subject, divert the attention off me. Maybe it’s a wall up or maybe I’m more curious about him, but I want to know why he’s back in Everton after so many years without a single word.
His eyebrows knit together at the mention of him being overseas. It’s almost like he’s surprised I’ve kept up with his whereabouts over the years. It’s not hard when I know he stays in touch with my brother. As much as Dean condemned us for our relationship back then, he knows how much I still care about Mav.
“Yet here I am,” he says.
It doesn’t escape me he’s steered the conversation away from my question. The statement hangs in the air before I reply, “Yet here you are.”
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