Broken Angels (2 page)

Instead of facing the pain, she’d opted to hide from it, and in the process she’d not only lost a best friend but a sister.

She’d missed her these past two years. Loneliness was an insidious thing, sharp-toothed and pervasive. It had slowly eaten away at her until she was hollow inside, a frail shell encompassing nothing.

For months she’d been meaning to call her, but every time she picked up the phone she’d lose her nerve. Now it was too late. Lindsay was dead, and Rebecca could never tell her how sorry she was.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have walked out just now. She owed it to Lindsay to make sure her children were okay. She had to put her personal feelings aside and do what was right.

Her heart pounded louder than a symphony of drums at the thought. The walls of her throat swelled. With a growing sense of urgency, she rammed her finger against the elevator button harder than was required. The urge to escape strangled her.
Dear God, what’s wrong with me?

She’d thought she’d finally gotten a handle on her emotions. Had she just spent the last two years fooling herself?

No, she couldn’t accept that. She was solid now, on her way to finally being whole again. This little lapse in her self-control was perfectly understandable. She was still reeling from Lindsay’s death, was coping with feelings of pain and loss, layered with guilt.

“I’m sorry, Becca.” Zach’s voice pierced the heavy mist smothering her brain. She hadn’t heard him creep up behind her. “I had no idea. I would have expected Lindsay and Liam to change their will after the divorce.”

She wanted to tell him to leave her alone, to let her wallow in her despondency the way he had two years ago, but the words remained trapped in her throat.

“Are you all right?” Zach anchored her by placing his hand on her lower back. Whether it was habit or a desire to touch her that impelled him to do so, she couldn’t be sure.

Rebecca tensed in response. Part of her wanted to recoil, her flesh scorched by yet another reminder of all that was lost to her forever. But another part of her—the traitorous part—wanted to lean into his embrace, to let him comfort and support her.

Great solace could be found in the familiar, and Zach’s touch was like the comfortable sweater you’d had since you were a teen or the house you’d lived in all your life—full of memories and feelings, both good and bad, but always a soothing balm to a bruised spirit.

“I meant what I said in there. I’ll take care of those kids on my own. So you can breathe easy.”

His heat branded her, made her body flush and her heart crash. The lump blocking her windpipe thickened. “I’m sorry— I can’t—”

A high-pitched
ding
rent the air, and the elevator doors slid open. Desperate to sever the physical contact, Rebecca dove into the cab. Seconds later the doors glided closed, shutting out the image of Zach’s beautiful face, pinched with disappointment and a sobering dose of acceptance.

Rebecca wasn’t sure how long she sat in her car. She estimated close to ten minutes, but it felt more like an hour. She kept willing herself to turn the key, put the car into drive and rocket down the street, away from this place and the man who’d broken her heart so many times she’d lost count. Instead she just idled behind the wheel, jumbled thoughts roiling in her mind as sunlight painted yellow streaks across her windshield.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t chase Zach’s parting expression from her head. She was used to seeing disappointment on his face, but the acceptance had cut deeper than it should have. She’d believed he’d given up on her when their marriage had ended. Now she wondered if that moment hadn’t come till today. The possibility rankled.

“Go ahead,” she told herself. “Get the hell out of here before you’re tempted to go back in there.”

Zach Ryler was her greatest weakness. One she’d struggled for two years to overcome. If she spent another minute in his presence, she feared she’d fall all over again. She couldn’t risk living through that kind of pain again.

She gripped the key but failed to start the engine.
He needs you
, a tiny voice whispered.

“Where was he when I needed him?”

Her subconscious didn’t answer. Instead, it chose to show her the image of his bedraggled face yet again.

“Damn it.” She withdrew the key from the ignition and stepped out of her Camry. Then, knowing full well she’d live to regret it, she made a beeline for the very building she’d just fled.

When she returned to Neil Hopkins’ office, Zach stood alone at the window, nothing but a dark silhouette against a pale backdrop of light.

“You’re still here.” Relief trembled in her voice, underscored by anxiety.

The slight inclination of his head was the only indication he’d heard her. “I didn’t expect you to come back,” he said after a short pause.

She refrained from telling him she’d never been too good at staying away from him. “Where’s the lawyer?”

“He went to get some documents for me to sign concerning Liam and Lindsay’s estate. He should be back any minute.” Zach finally turned to look at her, and she wished he hadn’t. The sight of his eyes made her heart ache. They were tired, filled with sorrow, despite his best efforts to conceal it.

The old impulse to reach out to him—to nurture and soothe—reared within her, but she fought it. It wasn’t her job to comfort him any longer. He was on his own, just as she was. She fisted her hands and ventured deeper into the room.

“Why are you here, Becca?”

“I wish I knew.”

A whisper of a smile fluttered over his lips. She’d always loved his smile. It brightened his whole face, made his eyes sparkle and long grooves dimple his cheeks. But today it was half-hearted, strained.

Rebecca wet her lips. “I’d like to apologize for the way I reacted earlier. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.” He walked toward her, his gait smooth, his body lean and square. She was aware of every muscle his gray cotton shirt concealed, was intimately acquainted with the wide curve of his shoulder, the springy whorls of hair on his chest, the powerful arc of his back. Her fingers still burned with the feel of his flesh beneath them. Why did the body—the heart—remember, even as the mind struggled to forget?

“I’m past that now.”

“Yeah? Then how come the mere thought of kids has you running for the nearest exit?”

He was right, of course, but there was no way she’d admit it. Just the idea of children—other people’s children—crippled her. It wasn’t that she didn’t love kids. On the contrary, she loved them too much. Loved them so desperately she’d made herself sick with yearning. She couldn’t allow that yearning to take root within her again. This time it would destroy her. Hope was a double-edged sword, as sharp as it was seductive. She’d learned that the hard way.

“It was just a shock to my system,” she said in her own defense. “I never expected to have any children, let alone three at once.”

He nodded, his gaze so piercing she felt it all the way down to the marrow of her bones. She tried not to squirm, but failed. Butterflies brushed silken wings against the walls of her stomach. “Could you please—” She faltered. “Could you please tell me about the shooting?” She’d wanted to ask him about it when she’d seen him at the funeral two weeks ago, but it hadn’t seemed appropriate at the time. Everything had been so new then, the wounds still shockingly fresh. “Did the children see—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
Did they see their parents murdered?

Zach sat on the edge of the gleaming desk, as if he’d suddenly grown so weary he needed the support it offered. “No. They were in bed when—” He released a thin stream of air that was half sigh, half snort. “When the son of a bitch broke in.”

A shadow passed behind his eyes. “No one heard a thing. He probably had a silencer.”

“Who discovered them?”

“The next-door neighbor.” A lengthy pause followed. “The police think she probably scared the killer off. That’s why the children were spared. She took the kids to her place while the cops worked, so they wouldn’t see—” His voice trailed off.

She raised her fingers to her lips, gently shook her head. “How could something like this happen? Why?”

She didn’t expect an answer, but he answered just the same. “Because some junkie was looking for his next fix and was short on cash. Because some nut job wanted to try out his new gun. Because the world has just gone crazy. Take your pick.”

Something arctic-cold and lethal blew across his face. “My sister was shot in the heart. Death was so instantaneous she barely bled. Liam’s death was a little slower. He must have realized what was happening.” He clutched his hands, wrapped his palm around his fist in a steel clamp. “That’s all it takes. One shot and you’re out.” The latter was spoken so softly she barely heard it. “Now I’ve got three brokenhearted kids and no idea what to do about it.”

Something inside her shattered. “I can only imagine how Noah and Kristen felt when they found out. Who told them?”

Zach’s gaze latched onto hers, and she read the words before he spoke them. “I did.”

“Oh, Zach.” She lost the battle and went to him, but stopped herself before she reached for his hand. It seemed so natural to touch him, even though a chasm of time now gaped between them.

“Noah just turned nine, so he understands what death means. He took the news like a man.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “That’s what worries me. He didn’t react at all. No shock, no pain. He has to let himself grieve like a child, but he won’t.

“Kristen is just the opposite. She refuses to believe her parents are gone. Death is an abstract concept to a five-year-old. She’s convinced they’re just sleeping and they’ll come home once they wake up. No one ever dies in cartoons, right?” His voice dripped with bitterness.

“And Will,” he continued, “he’s barely walking, so he doesn’t understand much at all. All he knows is that his mother isn’t there to hug him or rock him to sleep, and he thinks if he cries hard enough she’ll hear him and come to him. The other night he chewed on his fist so hard, he gnawed the skin off.”

Rebecca inhaled a sharp, deep breath that rattled in her chest. As much as she fought it, the overwhelming urge to draw that baby into her arms and hold him until his tears dried and peace befell him seized her.

Her demons awakened, reached long, scaly limbs through her veins. She battled to subdue them, all the while knowing what she had to do. Those children needed her. It was time she stopped wallowing in her misery and did the only thing her conscience allowed.

“I’m going to do it.” Her voice was firm and resolute, void of the tremor that passed through her.

Zach arched two puzzled brows.

“I’m going to help you take care of those kids if it kills me.”

And she meant it.

Chapter Two

On the outside, the four-bedroom, redbrick, bowfront townhouse with the high steps facing Union Park was the picture of architectural brilliance. On the inside, it looked like it had been hit by an earthquake. And not a small earthquake. This one would have measured at least eight on the Richter scale. Maybe even ten. Every toy these kids owned had been pulled off the shelves. A mountain of stuffed animals carpeted the faded hardwood floor. In the center of the living room, about a thousand microscopic Lego pieces lay scattered, and Zach couldn’t help but wonder if someone had set off a bomb in here while he’d been busy making lunch.

He wouldn’t have heard it over the racket these three were making. Noah and Kristen were arguing over the ugliest stuffed animal he’d ever seen. It was some kind of googly-eyed monkey that would have given him nightmares when he was a kid. Hell, it would probably give him nightmares now.

From his highchair, Will wailed at the top of his lungs, loud enough to give a fire engine a serious run for its money.

“It’s mine.” Noah shoved his sister, tugging on the monkey.

“I had it first.” Tears welled in Kristen’s blue eyes, her bottom lip trembled, but nothing short of a set of vice-grip pliers would pry the blasted thing from her tiny hands.

“Give it a rest, guys. Noah, let your sister have the goddamned thing.” He realized he’d sworn in front of the kids and ran rough fingers through his hair.

Behind him, baby Will continued practicing his siren impersonation. The pungent smell of smoke filled the kitchen, and for a second Zach thought he was hearing a fire truck after all. Then he remembered he’d forgotten the grilled-cheese sandwiches on the burner.

A groan rumbled in his throat. He grabbed the pan, nearly singeing his flesh, and tossed the blackened sandwiches into the trash.

Above him, the fire detector let out a trill even soprano Will couldn’t match. The children released the monkey and covered their small ears with their palms. Will howled louder, his face turning a downright scary shade of red.

Zach tried to open the window over the sink, but the fucking thing refused to budge. “Christ.”

Old buildings.

He grabbed a kitchen towel, began swatting at the smoke. But all he managed to do was spread it through the room until he couldn’t see two feet in front of him.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, Kristen decided to join Will in an ear-splitting operetta that would have made Pavarotti proud.

Zach propped his ass on the kitchen table, his shoulders heavy with defeat. As an account executive for Ad Edge, one of the most prestigious advertising agencies in Boston, he was accustomed to stressful situations. He was often required to meet impossible deadlines, to put out fires in the figurative sense, to deal with conflict and appease hard-nosed business executives whenever they threw a tantrum. For nearly a decade he’d handled each situation life tossed his way like a pro football player avoiding a tackle, his eye always trained on the goal. His co-workers had nicknamed him the Iceberg, thanks to his ability to stay cool and collected no matter what.

And now it had taken these kids but two weeks to turn him into a complete moron. He thought of all the terms of endearment people used to describe children—little darlings, sweethearts, angels. Like hell they were. Devils in disguise was more like it. They pulled the wool over your eyes with their sugary smiles and puppy-dog expressions, all the while plotting to blindside you when you least expected it.