All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) (3 page)

I could feel her brilliant blue eyes reaching for me despite our clasped hands, needing more. It was as if she recognized something in me that I hadn’t intended to reveal. Maybe she instinctively knew I empathized with her situation, had basically been there myself. Whatever it was, I found myself unable to look away, even when she let go of Ali and turned to speak to her. I just kept watching her as they softly spoke, voices hushed with concern.

The conversation went unnoticed until Ali’s head whipped in Clay’s direction and I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. Lauren must have relayed the information Clay had gathered.

“You mean to tell me Bonnie has put a fucking gag order on the staff to shut Lauren out? Who does something like that?” Her tone was disbelieving and enraged.

Pissed-off Ali was a scary thing.

She let go of Lauren’s other hand and stood, seething. “I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let this go on. There is no excuse for doing something like that to her, not ever.” With that, she marched past Clay and out the door.

He blew out a big breath and watched his wife stalk down the hall. “Shit.”

“Yeah, I feel sorry for whoever she finds.” Lauren chimed in, looking nervous. “I hope she doesn’t get herself in trouble. I know Teach will want to see her when he wakes up from the anesthesia.” Her face went pale and her eyes dropped to the table. “If he wakes up.”

“Stop it. Don’t do that to yourself. We don’t know anything yet.” Clay told her, though his voice was a bit hollow, as if he didn’t quite believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

Her eyes were on me again, quiet desperation on her face as she spoke so softly I had to lean in to hear. “He can’t die. He’s all I have, all I’ve ever had. I can’t be here without him, I wouldn’t know how...” Her voice trailed off but her lips still moved as she played out the horrible possibilities in her mind.

I glanced over my shoulder at Clay, who was making his way closer, intending to comfort her. I knew he would start spewing those worn-out platitudes so I stopped him with a quick shake of my head. He paused in his approach and nodded to me. “Okay, you two stay here, I’m going to find my wife before she throttles some innocent nurse and gets tossed in jail.”

Lauren glanced over at him, breaking our connection. “Tell her to save the throttling for Bonnie. This is her doing.” Her shoulders slumped. “Or maybe it’s my fault. It wouldn’t be like this if Bonnie didn’t hate me so much.”

Clay halted by the door and lifted a hand, pointing at Lauren and addressing her in a firm tone. “Bullshit. This isn’t your fault. Don’t let her make you feel like you don’t belong here. You belong here more than any of us. Even Marilee. Claim your spot at his side and tell Bonnie to fuck off if she doesn’t like it. You
are
his family. Understand?”

Whoa. Clay was just as pissed as Ali. I almost felt sorry for this Bonnie person. Almost.

Lauren’s eyes shined with unshed tears and she nodded. “You’re right. Thanks, Clay.”

He turned to address me. “If Marilee and that old crow get here before I get back, text me or Ali and let us know.”

“You’ve got it.” I assured him. “And I won’t be letting anyone mistreat Lauren, so once you get my text, you better get your ass back here to play referee.”

He agreed and walked out, hurrying down the hall in the direction where Ali disappeared.

I looked back at Lauren and found her watching me, a strange expression on her face. “Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?” I frowned.

“Like you care about what happens to me, like you’re my friend or something. I’m nothing to you. We never even met before today, so why are you acting like that?” She glanced at our joined hands and then back at my face, suddenly suspicious.

My voice was softer than I intended, more uneven than before when I said, “Because I understand what this feels like. And it’s ten times harder when you have to feel like you’re dealing with it alone.” For her sake, I hoped it turned out better for her than it had for me.

She looked at me a while longer, probably searching for deception somewhere in my features. Eventually, she gave my hand a squeeze and said, “Thank you. I guess I should be more trusting. After all, if Clay and Ali like you, you can’t be a monster or anything. They should be able to spot one from a mile away by now.” There was shame in her eyes.

“They like you, too, you know.” I told her, smiling.

“No. They feel sorry for me; that’s all. Not the same thing.” She was matter of fact, resigned.

“Ali invited you to their wedding, didn’t she? That was before all this, so your theory is officially blown.” She hadn’t gone, of course, but that didn’t matter.

“Wrong. They felt sorry for me long before that.” She corrected sadly. “And having pity friends is worse than having none at all.”

My reply was cut short by the sound of raised voices in the hall. Several voices warred for conversational dominance as they grew closer and closer.

“No, we don’t know anything because you told the staff not to tell us.”

“Why would they lie, Bonnie?”

“…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Which way did they take him? Is there a nurse’s desk down here?”

Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steeling herself for the impending drama.

Clay and Ali hurried into the room, both agitated as they spun and spoke to the two women in their wake.

Ali held up a hand to silence everyone as she glared at the short-haired woman next to Teach’s distraught wife. “That’s exactly what they told us. They said the family requested to be the only ones appraised of the situation, they even reminded us that Lauren wasn’t blood-related and therefore wasn’t entitled to an update. How would they know that unless you told them, Bonnie? I know Mar wouldn’t have said that.”

Marilee, who I’d met on several occasions, looked deflated, older than her years, and defeated. She just stood there with a blank expression that mirrored the one Lauren had when we first arrived.

I stood, needing to stop this before it got out of hand. “Hey, let’s focus on Teach. Marilee is here now, so we can finally get some answers. Everything else can be dealt with later, okay?” I met each of their eyes in succession.

Bonnie, with her near-black dye job, too-tight perm, and gaudy costume jewelry snorted, looking me up and down as if I were a speck of shit she’d had the misfortune of stepping in. “And who exactly are you?” She eyed me and flicked a distasteful glance at Lauren before smirking. “Let me guess, you’re the most recent knight in shining armor, right? Figures Lauren would have a new one lined up in case Teach doesn’t pull through.”

Lauren, who had been hanging her head and avoiding everyone’s gaze, shot out of her seat and leapt across the room so fast all I saw was a blood-red blur as her hair fanned out behind her. In the blink of an eye, she was on Bonnie, backing her across the room with just the enraged expression on her face. “My uncle is in there fighting for his life, you old bitch!”

Ali jumped in and grabbed Lauren by the shoulders, pulling her back as Bonnie sneered. “He’s not your uncle, you little tramp. He’s just a fool-hearted sucker who fell for your poor little victim act. Your own mother turned her back on you, and he should have too. You’re nothing but trash.”

My feet were moving before I realized it and soon I was face-to-face with the hateful old woman, who showed no signs of being intimidated by my size as I towered over her.

“You’re Satan in a shawl, you know that? How about you tend to your sister and keep your mouth shut when it comes to everyone else. If not, I’ll have you tossed out of here on your ass.”

She sniffed, unmoved. “You don’t have the clout to make that happen, kid.”

I returned her condescending sneer. “Then I guess I’ll have to do it my damn self, won’t I?”

We stood glaring at one another for a long moment before Marilee cleared her throat and moved past us toward the door.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and realized she wasn’t the only one headed in that direction. I turned just as Lauren passed me and saw the figure standing in the doorway. The doctor wore pale gray surgical scrubs, his facemask untied and lying against his chest as he stood looking down at a shaking Marilee with a sympathetic expression on his face.

He started speaking, simultaneously shaking his head as Marilee wailed deep in her throat.

Clay pulled Ali into his arms as she began to cry.

Standing a few feet in front of me, Lauren’s breath whooshed out in a strangled sob and she suddenly seemed to fold in on herself as she started to collapse.

I reached her just in time to keep her limp body from hitting the floor.

Teach was gone.

Three days later

The early afternoon sky was overcast, gray and somber like the occasion. The air felt heavy and thick as I looked over the sea of stone markers, tucked back off the main road with a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. As final resting places went, I supposed it would be considered a good one. The scent of flowers wafted on the breeze, coming from the multitude of arrangements that flanked the open grave. Lilies and roses were the only ones I could readily identify, but damn there were a lot of others. Wreaths, arrangements, bouquets, even some exotic-looking plants in heavy pots.

Teach had obviously been well-loved.

I stood back from the crowd, looking on with a heavy heart as my friends grieved, all of them with their backs to me. Talia and Spencer huddled close together, a few feet away from the closed coffin that sat poised above the empty ground, waiting to be lowered. Ali stood to Marilee’s right, an arm draped protectively around her heaving shoulders while Bonnie stood to Marilee’s left, back ramrod straight and unmoved. For the most part, Clay seemed to be giving Ali the space she needed to attend her mentor’s widow, but he remained within arm’s length and was poised to move should Ali need his support.

Like I had with Lauren at the hospital.

Feeling the pull of her presence, I turned my head slightly to watch her. She stood off to my left beneath the shady overhang of a nearby tree, keeping herself separated from the crowd, just as I was. She wore sleek black pants that accentuated her figure and a matching cardigan over a deep blue top. The way she hugged the sweater around her made me wonder if she was cold.

Her body was angled slightly toward me, which afforded me a good view of her face. Her expression was blank, devoid of emotion even as the torrent of tears streamed down her cheeks and fell onto her chest. The wind occasionally blew thick strands of her crimson hair, blocking my view and hers, but she didn’t seem inclined to move them. She didn’t seem interested in much at all, her gaze focused somewhere in the distance and her body swaying with the wind as if she didn’t have the strength to hold her posture. Her arms were tightly folded across her middle, hands bunched in the fabric at her sides as if they were the only things holding her together.

Her entire demeanor radiated pain, devastation, and loss.

I wanted so badly to go to her, to say something, do something to help, but my feet were rooted in place, unable to move. She’d been more lucid at the church, even responded to a few people when they offered their condolences, but before I could make my approach, she’d wandered off and I hadn’t spotted her again until after the graveside service began. She’d either arrived late or intentionally avoided everyone until she knew they would be focused elsewhere.

I suspected the latter.

Which gave me just the excuse I needed to back off and leave her be. I’d already done all I could and hopefully that was enough.

When all hell had broken loose at the hospital, I’d taken care of her. I’d carried her to the uncomfortable couch in the waiting room until she came to. I held her hand and stroked her hair while she keened like an animal for what seemed like hours, wondering how her body could withstand the force of her racking sobs. And when the doctor returned and asked if anyone would like to see Teach, I dared Bonnie—that heinous old biddy—to stand in the way. I walked Lauren to the room and stood outside the door while she said her goodbyes, fearful that she might collapse again and not giving a shit that we were told only family was permitted. I didn’t go in, I just stayed close.

For her.

And despite the fact that she hadn’t so much as looked in my direction all day today, I wanted to be there for her again. It flew in the face of the aloof persona I’d worked so hard to cultivate, but it was the damn truth. I didn’t want to walk away from her. Something inside me was urging me to reach out, even as another part of me warned against it.

She seemed so lost, so alone. I understood how that felt. More than I cared to recall.

As if finally registering that some fucking weirdo had been staring at her for ten minutes, Lauren’s head swiveled in my direction.

Her icy blue gaze flitted over my face for a moment before she gave me a weak smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It seemed to require a lot of effort on her part, as if she barely had the energy to curl the edges of her full, perfect lips.

Perfect lips? Why am I focusing on her damn mouth? Perv much, Brant? Shit. This is a funeral, not a nightclub.

It wasn’t entirely voluntary, noticing her mouth, her eyes, and her body. I’d sort of made a habit of picturing it over the past couple of days, so now that she was standing right there—only a few yards away—I couldn’t help myself. What made it so much more difficult was that she turned out to be nothing like I’d expected. I knew all was forgiven now and that she had been an unwilling pawn in what went down here in Denson last year, but somehow the image I’d conjured in my head was sinister: dark and angry.

I hadn’t been prepared for this beautiful, fragile creature.

Sure, she’d gone kamikaze on Bonnie at the hospital, proving she was no doormat, but once Teach’s death hit her, she’d shut down completely. I wanted to see that fiery side of her again, to know that she hadn’t lost that when she lost her uncle. It was so easy to become someone else, someone who was a shell of who you once were after a loss like this.