Pieces of My Heart (23 page)

He’d made me a permanent part of himself. Right over his heart.

Mine could have burst with how much love and pride I felt in that moment.

“Where’s yours?”

I almost forgot I’d even gotten one of my own. Lifting my arm I suddenly felt incredibly nervous. What if he hated it? What if he thought it was ugly? Or conceited?

Caulder’s hand cradled my arm as he examined the rectangular block of blue-tinged ice inked into my skin. His gaze moved slowly, taking in each of the cracks, tracing the small green vine fighting its way free all the way to the tiny purple flower, blooming in the face of adversity.

“This is . . .” His eyes lifted to mine, and in them I saw something new. Something intense. Something that lit my heart on fire. I didn’t need to explain it to him, at all. He understood exactly what it meant. “Absolutely perfect. I love it.”

He loved it. And he loved
me
. That was all I needed to know. “I’m ready now.”

“For what?”

I took a deep breath and released it on a rush of words, afraid I’d change my mind if I didn’t get it out there right away. “To see my mother.”

Twenty Three

“Why here?” I scanned the park near the center of town. The dirt bike paths, the swing set, jungle gym, see-saws, and the tall slide I fell from when I was about five. It had taken two weeks for the swelling in my wrist to go down and it still ached sometimes when it rained.

It was nearly dinner time, and absolutely freezing. All of which lent to the fact that there wasn’t another soul in sight, besides Caulder and I.

“You wanted to see your mother. And there’s no way you’re setting foot back in Halfmoon. Not with DJ and Stryker and Michael still around.”

I got that, but . . . “Couldn’t we have done this somewhere indoors? With heat?”

Rubbing my hands together, I puffed a cloudy breath into them.

“We could have, but I thought you might like some privacy.”

The realization that he put a lot of thought into this hit me at about the same time Mom’s car came squealing into the lot and slammed to a stop. I could feel the heat of her glare through the windshield. It only grew in intensity as she marched her way toward us.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Having this one call,” she flipped an accusatory finger in Caulder’s direction without bothering to look at him, “and demand that I come meet you here. At this hour! You know I can’t drive after—”

“I offered to pick you up,” Caulder interceded. A fact I hadn’t been aware of, but appreciated immensely—even if she hadn’t accepted.

“Don’t do me any favors. I’m not some stupid, pathetic little girl. I don’t need your damn hand-outs.” Dismissing Caulder as nothing more than an insect crawling in her path, she returned her attention to me. “This had better be about the money you owe me. Give it.”

“Money?” I
owed her
? “What money?”

“Gee, I don’t know, brainless. Maybe the money that’s supposed to keep the lights on and food on the table? Where is it?”

“I don’t . . . I don’t have any.”

“What do you mean you don’t have any? You had better not be holding out on me, you selfish little—”

“I’m not holding out on you. I don’t have any money because I haven’t been working.”

I could practically see the steam billowing from her ears and I was pretty sure the red tint to her face wasn’t from the cold. “You lazy, useless—”

Caulder stiffened beside me and I plunged in before he could get involved. “The crutches, remember? I couldn’t work on crutches. They took me off the schedule.”

“Well, you’re not on crutches now.” She had a point there.

“No. I know. I just . . . That’s not why I wanted to talk to you. I . . .” I didn’t tremble. I shook. Violently. My hands. My voice. My body. My heart. I could feel it ping-ponging around my chest like a pinball.

I stood in a public park, facing down an intoxicated woman smaller than myself, with a wall of pure muscle with a fierce desire to protect me at my side. And still I knew terror in that moment in a way that I’d never known it before.

“It’s about Michael.” Caulder’s hand slid into mine and held tight. A silent reminder that he was there with me just as he promised he would be. As the marking on his chest promised he always would be. “He’s bad for you. For
us
. I know you can’t see that, but I can, and I’m telling you I can’t live like this anymore. Not with you . . . with you like this. The drinking has to stop and Michael—”

“
Michael,
” she hissed, “is your
father
. Is your family not good enough for you, Your Highness? I kept your lazy ass around for eighteen years.
Eighteen years
I carried you like a goddamn lead weight around my neck. Always dragging me down. Why the hell do you think it is that I have to drink? And now . . . now that you may actually be good for something . . . you’re leaving? Abandoning me? You ungrateful bitch . . . What about this?”

Slapping her purse down on the picnic table beside us, she dug through the decade’s worth of bills and receipts she had accumulated in there until she found what she was looking for and waved it wildly in my face. Her movements were too disjointed for me to get a good look until she shoved it in my hands. A glimpse of the official header was all it took.

Farnel and Associates
.

Where did she—? She’d been in my room? Through my drawers? Why?

I didn’t get the chance to ask her. She wasn’t finished.

“How am I supposed to pay that? You’re a leech, Jade. You’ve sucked me dry and now what? You’re moving on to the next sucker dumb enough to take you in? How long will that last? You may despise me and what I provide, but you need me. Without me, you have nothing. Because that’s what you are.
Nothing
. What you’re worth.
Nothing
. You are—”

“
Enough!
” Caulder’s rage crashed around us. “You don’t—”

“No.” Grabbing a handful of his coat sleeve, I tugged Caulder back. This was my fight. I was done letting others fight it for me. I was stronger than my fear.

Turning to face my mother, I reiterated my one word rebellion to her. “No. I’m done listening to you. You don’t get to talk to me like that anymore. You don’t get to say cruel, hurtful things and blame them on the alcohol. You’re wrong, I
don’t
need you. Maybe I did, but not anymore. Now it’s
you
who needs
me
. And I want to be there for you, Mom. I want to help. I love you. I miss you. I want to come home. Be a family again. But not like this. If you want me to stay, it’s not going to happen through guilt. Not anymore. I’m willing to try again, to give us another chance. I want to make this work, but you have to want it, too.”

“When you wake up and realize just how damn lucky you are to have someone like Jade in your life, you can call. She’s coming home with me.” Caulder’s arm came around me, curling my body into his solid chest.

I somehow made it all the way to the car before her words sank in. My hands started shaking all over again. I’d just walked away from my home. My family. My lower lip went the way of my hands and I knew it was only a matter of time. Sucking in a few quick, shallow breaths, I attempted to stave the tears already building in my eyes.

“It’s okay.” Caulder reached across the seat, prying the sheet of paper I hadn’t realized I’d taken with me from my hands and threading his fingers through mine. With a quick glimpse of the document, he shoved it down between the seats, out of sight. “You did it. You survived. And I am so proud of you.”

Proud?
He was proud of me?

The tears sank back to where they came from. I was still hurt. And afraid. And lonely. But I was a little bit proud, too. I’d stood up to my mother. For the first time in my life, I demanded that she acknowledge my needs instead of just her own. It may not have been the response I would have liked, but I did it. I was getting stronger every day. And I knew why that was.

“I couldn’t do this without you.” My fingers squeezed around Cal’s. “Any of it. Life. I couldn’t do life without you.”

He leaned into me, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’ll never have to.”

***

I couldn’t sit still. Residual anxiety coursed through my veins, fueling my restlessness. I’d dealt with one problem. Or at least taken the first step toward dealing with it.
But I’d been made aware of a much more immediate problem.

I may have been lounging in comfort at the Parks’, but Mom wasn’t. She needed my paycheck and I wasn’t providing. Things must have been getting pretty tight at home. For her to have shown up at all, she must have been getting desperate.

“So, Mom’s shift wraps up in about twenty minutes. I thought I’d go pick her up and take her out to dinner. Come with. We can celebrate.” Caulder sat perched on the edge of the sofa in the living room, watching me pace the floor like a caged animal.

I knew he was only trying to help take my mind off things, but I wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate. The thought of eating some fancy meal, while Mom was probably rationing canned goods, made me sick to my stomach.

“Actually, I need to run into work. Check the schedule for next week. Maybe another time?”

I could have just as easily picked up a phone and called to check my schedule, but I needed to get out of the house. I needed some time alone to think and process everything that happened. Caulder got that. He was every bit as understanding as he was supportive, a combination I couldn’t have done without.

Snagging my wrist, he brought me to a halt and pulled me down beside him.

“Alright.” His fingers combed through my hair, wrapping around a lock to give a playful tug. “But next time I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Only Caulder could make me smile at a time like that. “Deal.”

I planned to use the drive to The Brewery to consider my options regarding my mother. It turned out . . . I didn’t have any. I’d played my hand. I’d given my mother the second, third, fourth, fifth—I’d lost count—chance I needed to. Now, it was her turn.

It wasn’t hard to figure out what her decision would be. Not at first. But forcing her to make it, to acknowledge the fact that she was choosing alcohol over her own flesh and blood . . . it had to make an impact. I had to believe that.

“Hey, stranger.” Simon greeted me with one of those chin-lift things that guys do from behind the counter where he was up to his elbows in caramel sauce.

“Hey, yourself.” The place was deserted, so I wander over to the register and leaned against the display case.

“You look better.” Peeling off his gloves, he swiped his hands on the dish towel looped over the faucet.

“I feel better. That’s actually why I’m here. I’m ready to come back to work and wanted to check my schedule.”

“Alrighty, then. Let’s check it out.” Simon tugged open the drawer beneath the register and pulled out the oversized kitten calendar that listed all of our weekly schedules. Flipping to a picture of a fat, orange cat that reminded me of Garfield, he ran his finger along the week marked in purple ink and frowned. “You’re not on here.”

“What?” Tipping my head, for a better angle, I scanned the upcoming week on the off-chance Simon had forgotten my name again. It was nowhere to be seen. “That doesn’t make any sense. Stewart said two weeks when I spoke to him on the phone. It’s been two weeks.”

“I’m sure it’s just a mistake. He probably forgot.” Somehow I doubted that. “Don’t worry. I’ll call Stew and—”

“
Jade
.” Karen stepped out of the back office, wiping her hands on her apron, looking startled to see me. “I . . . um . . .” Her gaze flicked from me, to Simon, to the calendar, and back again. “I was going to call you.”

Why did that not sound good? “What’s up?”

“It’s Stewart. He, uh . . .” She sighed. “Look, I like you. So don’t shoot the messenger here, okay? Stewart said he had to let you go. He said the hours weren’t . . .”

The rest of her words were lost to the sudden influx of blood to my head, rushing through my ears. Let me go? I’d been fired? A wave of dizziness crashed over me and I gripped the counter to steady myself.

Beside me, Simon had gone pale. “He can’t do that. It’s not her fault—”

“I didn’t say it was. I’m not the one who—”

“Karen! You can’t just—”

“Stop.” The word croaked out of me. “It’s not her fault. She’s just doing her job.”

“Jade, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Stew. I’ll—”

“Don’t.” It wasn’t worth his job, too. Any one of us was easily replaceable. “It’s okay.”

“Jade . . .” His eyes said he knew damn well it wasn’t.

“Really. There’s got to be a million other places I can work where I won’t end up with a caffeine buzz every day.” I tried to laugh and nearly gagged on it. “I gotta go. There’s somewhere I need to be.”

“I really am sorry.” Karen looked miserable.

“Don’t be. Really.” I backpedaled toward the door, desperate to escape.

I slipped out as a crowd shoved its way inside. Through the front window, I saw Simon watching me go, his shoulders slumped. But then a line started forming. Work demanded his attention. And I was lost to another round of orders.

Fired
. What was I going to do now? Mom may not have been the world’s best provider, but she’d never let us end up in some box under some bridge somewhere. I’d counted on her for that and now she was counting on me. And I was letting her down.

The light turned green and I pressed on the accelerator, not really seeing where I was going. Pins and needles pricked my fingertips, my grip on the wheel so tight it cut off circulation. I could feel that steel band wrapping around my chest, beginning to squeeze.

The car suddenly felt too small. The urge to pull over, get out, and run was nearly overwhelming. But where would I go? Somewhere nobody knew me. Where nobody counted on me. Where nobody could be disappointed by me. Where the weight of responsibility didn’t sit like a steel beam across my shoulders. But it was a pipe dream. Such a place didn’t exist because running away from responsibility didn’t make it disappear.