Pieces of My Heart (28 page)

Loss and confusion swam in the deep blue seas watching me before they fluttered shut. “I don’t know.”

Leaning into her, I embraced her warmth, wishing I could leech out all of her pain the same way. Pressing my lips to her forehead, I left them there, brushing over her smooth skin as I whispered, “You will.”

It wasn’t the fairytale moment she deserved and I’d do it again sometime in the not too distant future. When it involved romance and candlelight. And a damn ring. But for now, I needed to reach her. Needed to make her see that I was there to stay. That she had
me.
We were in this together. Until the end.

I sank to my knee before her on the threadbare carpet, feet from where I’d nearly lost her, and took one of her small, cold hands between both of mine. “Jade Carlson. Love isn’t the right word for how I feel about you, but a more accurate one doesn’t exist. You are a part of me. A part I can’t live without. The part that makes me whole. You are the love of my life, Angel. And I want to spend the rest of my life loving you . . . Will you marry me?”

It took the length of several heartbeats, but her eyes cleared. They sharpened and focused on me for the first time in weeks. Then they filled with confusion.

“You . . .” She glanced around our less than stellar surroundings. “You want . . . You’re asking me to—”

“Don’t answer.” This wasn’t going to be the story we told our grandchildren someday. “Not yet. Think about it. Hold on to it. And know that I’ll be asking you again someday soon. And then I
will
want an answer.”

“Cal . . .” Tears pooled in her eyes, but they weren’t the same stark, bleak tears that stained her cheeks. “I—”

“For now, there’s something else I want to ask you.” Coming to my feet, I stepped into her, sliding my fingers into her soft hair and curving them around the back of her neck. I could feel the frantic rhythm of her pulse beating against my palm and it steadied me. She was there. In my arms. Where she belonged. She was
alive
. I wasn’t ever going to let her go again. “Come away with me. To California. There’s nothing left here for either of us. We could start over. Start fresh. Leave all of this behind.”

Her eyes flared and I could see the panic rising in them.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy. Because it won’t. It’s not meant to be. Life is hard. No matter who you are. No matter where you come from, who your family is, how much money you have . . . This shit is
hard
, Jade. It’s hard.” Stoking my hand up and down the graceful curve of her neck, I let my fingers tangle in her hair and comb through it gently. “But it’s worth it. I promise you, Angel, it is worth it.
We
are worth it.”

Little by little, the panic receded. Her pulse slowed and the color returned to her face. But the sharpness in her eyes remained. She was there. She was right there with me in a way she hadn’t been in weeks. In the endless moments it took her to answer, I knew the greatest joy and the deepest fear I’d ever experienced.

And then she said the only word that could help me breathe again. “Yes.”

Crushing her small body against mine, I buried my face in her hair. Breathing her in. Touching her. Feeling her. Losing myself in her.

***

*Jade*

The best I could do was shake my head as everything inside of me came bubbling up to the surface. The tears fell and my heart expanded. I felt myself falling apart and being put back together all at once, stronger than before. More solid. More secure. 

That was what Caulder did for me. While Kiernan juggled my broken pieces trying to hold me together, Cal let them all fall. He let them shatter and turn to dust. Then, from the dust, he rebuilt me. One piece at a time, he put me back together. Starting with my heart. 

If people come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, then Kiernan was a part of both our lives for a million indescribable reasons. He helped make us who we were. And we were both better for knowing him. But it was
together
that Caulder and I found our lifetime.

Bonus Scene

Perched on the edge of the chair, Marilyn reached for her daughter’s hand, but hesitated short of taking it. The machines and wires and nauseating smell of bleach were all too overwhelming.

“I . . .” Words weren’t something she dealt in easily. Not these kinds of words. “I never wanted to be a mother. You knew that, Jade. You’ve always known it. I
made sure
you knew it . . .” The pale, lifeless body lying in the hospital bed didn’t stir at her voice. “But I . . . I wasn’t always terrible at it. I know you can’t remember this, but when you were little we used to go to the park. I used to watch you play in the sandbox. I even built sandcastles with you. You were such a happy baby.
I
was happy.”

The memories washed over her, playing like an old film, slightly out of focus. It was hard to imagine that was only eighteen years ago. It felt like another lifetime.

“I don’t . . . I don’t know what happened. My parents always hated Michael. They disowned me for having his child. Never forgave me ’til the day they died. They never even came to see you. Their grandchild. And I blamed
you
for that, but I thought it would be okay. I thought we would be our own family. I was a stupid, naïve little girl, and Michael . . . Michael had no interest in being a father. A family. He left meI blamed
you
for that, too. I blamed you for ruining my life when all along . . .”

Her hand crept forward over the scratchy sheets until the tips of her fingers brushed over her daughter’s palm. Jade’s skin felt so cold and dry.

“We could have had a good life, you and me. We could have found a way to make it work. It may not have been pretty, but we could have been happy. But I didn’t want that. I was . . . I was so angry. I’d been deserted by everyone in my life all because of . . . because of you. I wanted you to feel that anger. To make you feel my misery. Make you share in the pain you’d caused me. And I did . . . I
did
. . . For eighteen years, I made your life as miserable as mine, but . . . but I was . . . I was
wrong
, Jade. There was one person who n-never abandoned me. You . . . you never g-gave up . . . on me. You should have, but you didn’t. You . . . you . . .”

Stuffing down the emotion the booze usually kept buried where she wouldn’t have to feel it, Marilyn withdrew from her daughter’s side, sitting back in the hard hospital chair and folding her arms across her chest.

“Why would you do this? How stu—?” The grind of teeth could be heard over the quiet beeps and whooshes of the machinery. “Why would you risk your life . . . for me? You were right, you
don’t
need me. And that boy out there . . . he was right, too. About all of it. I shouldn’t be here . . .
You
shouldn’t be here. Like this. You shouldn’t have—

“There’s still hope for you, though.” Pushing her hand into Jade’s took an extreme physical effort. It felt as though a force repelled her. She wasn’t worthy to touch such a beautiful human being.

There was a time when she’d held her daughters hand. A time when tiny, little fists had wrapped around her fingers. A time when skinny arms had wound around her neck. But that time was long gone. Forever lost.

“It’s too late for me, but not for you. You’re a fighter, Jade. You always have been. You’ve fought me for years. You’ve survived this long. Just hold on a little bit longer. Things will get better. You’ll see.

“I may not be your family, but you do have one. You have people who care about you, waiting just outside that door. People who will take care of you. They’ll give you the home . . . the life I never could. The life . . . the life you deserve.”

The small, beating organ in her chest—the one she’d been icing out for years—turned to stone, solidified in her decision. “Nobody’s going to hurt you again . . . not even me. I promise.”

Smooth locks slid through Marilyn’s fingers as she combed Jade’s hair, really looking at her daughter for the first time in what felt like years. She wasn’t the same chicken-legged, skinned-knee kid anymore, running around, demanding her time and attention. Testing her patience to the limit and beyond. She wasn’t the shy, awkward pre-teen, lurking in shadows. Her daughter had grown into a beautiful, strong young woman, something Marilyn was prone to envy, but today . . . today she felt the stirrings of pride.

Despite her best efforts to bring her down, Jade had overcome all of it. She had a resolve that Marilyn couldn’t break, a determination that she couldn’t begin to understand, but admired. A resilience that had carried her right to the doorstep of everything she’d ever wanted. And now . . . now she was on the brink of losing it all.

“I . . . I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. I . . .” Marilyn’s jaw ached from how hard she clenched her teeth. She couldn’t be there. She couldn’t see Jade that way. She couldn’t apologize for things that had no apology. She wasn’t as strong as her daughter. “I have to go. I . . . I l-love you.”

Jerking back as though the bed had suddenly caught fire, Marilyn scrambled from her seat and headed for the door.

She needed a drink.

SNEAK PEEK

Coming from Author Jamie Canosa in 2015:

ROCK BOTTOM

I flipped the paper over and I must have died because I know my heart stopped beating. Zero. I scored a big, fat, red zero with a note scrawled across the top of the page that read ‘See me after class.’ If there weren’t two of them in a one hundred, I may not have even recognized the score. I’d certainly never received one as a grade before. Or been asked to stay after class.

My eye caught Mr. Parson’s at the front of the room and an icy ball of nerves solidified in the pit of my stomach. He looked . . . pissed. What the hell did I ever do to him?

I didn’t hear another word for the rest of class, my mind too wrapped up in what could have happened. It must be some kind of mistake. I’d just explain to Mr. Parson’s that whatever he’s thinking to make him look at me like that must be wrong and everything would go back to normal. He’d add a one and another zero to my exam and I’d take it home to show my parents. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

“You coming?”

I glanced up to find Elijah standing beside my desk, surprised to find most of the class had already cleared out of the room. I needed to stop spacing out.

“I can’t. I need to talk to Mr. Parson for a minute.”

He eyed me curiously. “Everything all right. You look a little sick again. Are you allergic to chemistry?”

He was trying to make me smile, but it fell flat against the anxiety skyrocketing through my system. I needed to get this over with. Now. Before I had a stroke.

“I gotta talk to him. I’ll see ya later.”

“Do you want me to stick around?” He was actually starting to look a little concerned and Heaven only knew what I looked like.

“No. No, it’s fine. I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay.” Elijah looked conflicted about his decision to go, but in the end he went, leaving me and Mr. Parson alone in the classroom.

Gathering my stuff haphazardly into my arms, I relocated to a desk at the front of the room.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“I did.” Mr. Parson got up and slowly strolled to the door, shutting it with his foot and leaving me sitting on the edge of my seat.

He wasn’t a mean guy. Just out of college and not too much older than us, he was usually pretty cool, but he was torturing me now and I had no idea why.

“Rylie, we have a problem.” He took a seat on the front edge of his desk, stretching his denim clad legs out in front of him so that they nearly touch my own.

He definitely dressed better than most teachers in his button up shirts rolled up at the sleeves and left open in the front to display some pretty cool tees. I swear he only wore them at all to comply with the dress code, however loosely. I knew he had to be at least twenty-two or twenty-three, but with his light shaggy hair forever flopping into those bright blue eyes and that handsome baby face, he could have easily passed as a student here instead of a teacher.

“What problem?”

“Cheating is not tolerated in my classroom, Ry.”

“Cheating? I didn’t—”

“I caught you looking at Mr. Prince more than once during the exam.”

Oh, God, I swear my cheeks turned ten shades of crimson. “I wasn’t cheating. I was just . . . looking.”

“Looking?”

“I . . . sort of . . . have a little . . . crush . . . on Elijah. Maybe. A little.” Cripes, where the hell was the mute button when I needed it?

“A crush? On Mr. Prince? Are you two dating?”

“No.” Not yet, anyway.

“That’s good to hear.” Seriously, even the teachers were against me dating Elijah? “Maybe we can still work this out.”

“Yes. I’d like to work this out. I really wasn’t cheating.”

“And yet you both had the exact same answers.”

“The
right
answers! You can’t penalize us for both knowing the material we’re supposed to know.”

“This is my classroom, Rylie. I can do whatever I like.” There was a sudden shift in the room. A chill. Mr. Parson went from the laid back friendly teacher we all knew and loved to someone else. Someone . . . intimidating.

“I . . . I swear, I didn’t cheat. I studied. Hard. I don’t deserve a zero.”

“What grade do you think you deserve, Rylie?” Why did he keep saying my name like that? It gave me goose bumps, and not the good kind.

“I . . . Whatever I earned.”

“Would you like to earn a hundred?”

Was that a trick question? “Yes, of course.”

“There may be a way we could work that out.” He stood and meandered toward the desk where I was sitting.

My shoulders tensed as he circled around behind me, trailing a hand over them.

“You’re so tense.” Fingers pressed into my skin as he rubbed my muscles. “Relax. Just breathe.”

Breathing seemed impossible with what was happening. I couldn’t even process exactly what that was. “What . . .? What are you doing?”

“Working it out.”

“H-how can we do that?” My mouth had suddenly gone completely dry, making it difficult to speak.

“I’ve had my eye on you all year, Ry. You’re a beautiful young woman.” His fingers dipped lower, rubbing deeper in my shoulder blades and clavicle. “You’ve left me pretty . . . tense, too. Maybe you could do something about that.” 

“L-like w-what?” Why was I even asking? I already knew what he was implying. Some deep part of me was still desperately hoping I was completely overreacting to the situation. But I wasn’t.

“Something that would earn that hundred you so desperately want.”

Oh, my God. This was not happening. This stuff only happened on ridiculous after school specials. Not in real life. Not in
my
life.

“Mr. . . . Mr. Parson,” I leaned as far forward as I could behind that desk, pulling away from his touch. “M-maybe I could take a retest, or—”

“No retest. There’s one way to get the grade you want. The question is . . . how badly do you want it?”

I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. The thought of bringing home a zero and carrying the stigma of cheating through my senior year was almost too much to bare. I was going to be physically ill. His arm reached around from behind me, brushing across my chest and the tops of my breasts causing me to recoil violently. I didn’t want it
that
bad.

“I can’t. I
won’t!
Don’t touch me.” Tears pooled in my eyes, making it hard to see my stuff as I jumped from the seat and piled it into my arms as quickly as I could. “Don’t touch me.”

When they spilled over, clearing my vision slightly, I found Mr. Parson leaning against the door. I stopped short waiting for him to move out of my way. Not certain he would.

“Then, you keep the zero and I report you to the board of ethics.” My entire body shuddered at the thought. This could destroy my college prospects. “Get out of my classroom.” He stepped aside, but only far enough that I had to squeeze by him to get out of the door.

When my arm bumped against his chest, he grabbed ahold of it and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Cheating can be the least of your problems. Breathe a word of what happened here today and it will be. It’s your word against mine and I can make your life very difficult, Miss. Stark.”

I locked up at his touch and couldn’t move—or breathe—again until he released me. Then, I moved. Ran like the room was on fire all the way to the closest bathroom.

“
Rylie
?” I hadn’t even realized I’d blown right by Elijah in the hallway. “Rylie, are you okay?”

In complete disregard to the ‘Women’s’ sign on the door, he barged into the bathroom to find me hunched over a toilet. I hadn’t even had time to shut the stall door before losing my lunch.

“What the hell happened in there?” He balled up a wad of toilet paper and handed it to me to wipe my mouth, not skeeved out in the least by my display.

“This is a
girl’s
bathroom, Elijah.”

“Yeah, and we’re the only ones in it, so what? You guys hiding some kind of secret handbook or something in here?” He ducked, like he was actually searching for something below the sinks, dragging out a small smile from my still quivering lips.

“There you go.” He smiled, but it wasn’t his usual self-amused grin. It was almost . . . gentle. But those damn dimples still peeked out. “Now tell me what happened.”

My stomach heaved again and I considered diving back into the stall and slamming the door before it settled. “I-I can’t.”

I didn’t even realize my hands were shaking until Elijah folded them both in his. “You’re terrified. What the hell is going on? You better start talking, Ry, or I’m gonna go ask Mr. Parson.”

“
No!
No, you can’t do that. Don’t-don’t say anything to him. Please.”

Elijah’s eyes narrowed along with his lips. “Did he do something to you?”

“No.” I shook my head hard enough to give myself a headache before one of Elijah’s hands cupped my cheek, stopping me. “Not really.”

“What does ‘not really’ mean?” He ducked his head, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “Rylie, talk to me.”

“He . . . He accused me of cheating.”

“I can see why that would upset you, but not like this. There’s more. What is it?”

I licked my dry, chapping lips and flicked my eyes to his before dropping them again when the concern shining through quickly became too much to handle.

“Just tell me.”

“Nothing. I just . . . I don’t feel well. Must be that whole chemistry allergy thing.”

“Bullshit. It’s real simple, Ry. Either you tell me or he does.”

“Elijah, just forget about it. Please?”

“Not gonna happen, babe. You’ve got ten seconds to start talking.”

“Elijah, I—”

“Eight.”

“I can’t. I have to—”

“Five.”

“I have to get home. My parents will be—”

“Three, two, one.” Elijah’s booted foot slid backward and I panicked.

“He . . . offered me a way to make it up.”

“A retest?” Elijah’s confusion was obvious.

I shook my head again as much as his steady touch would allow. “A way to e-earn it.”

“Earn it?” His face hardened as understanding stared to set in. “How did he want you to
earn it
, Rylie?”

“By . . . By . . .” A sob I was unprepared for tore from my throat as the tears sprung up again. “I don’t know. He didn’t give me details.”

“Son of a bitch. Did that asshole put his hands on you?”

I couldn’t look at him, but the tremor that shook my body at the memory of Mr. Parson’s touch was all the answer he needed.

“Bastard!” Elijah pulled me into his chest, wrapping me tight enough in his arms that I could feel the way his entire body shook with unspent rage. I was terrified of what he planned to do with it, but I couldn’t stop crying long enough to ask him. “Shh. It’s okay.” His hand glided carefully up and down my back. “I’m gonna fix this. It’s going to be okay, baby. Shh.”

It took until my hysterics quieted into erratic hiccups for my brain to process his words. “What do you mean you’re going to fix this? Elijah, you can’t—”

His hands framed my face again, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But he said if I told anyone, cheating would be the least of my problems. He could ruin everything. It would be my word against his. No one would believe—”

“Don’t. Worry. About it. I will handle this. I promise.” He planted brief warm kiss on my forehead and—unlike Mr. Parson’s—Elijah’s touch brought out all the right kinds of goose bumps. “Now get cleaned up and I’ll drive you home.”

“My car’s in the lot.” I flipped on the sink and splashed cold water on my face, trying to ease away some of the atrocious red splotches.

“I’ll drop it at your place later. You're in no condition to drive right now.”

“You don’t have to—” The sink shut off and I turned to face Elijah, just to have his index finger pressed to my lips, effectively silencing my feeble protest.

“Let’s go. Do you need anything from your locker?”

I shook my head and he nodded, scooping my bag and excess books from the bathroom tile where I’d dumped them and led the way out into the hall. Thank goodness they were empty. Who knew what people would think if they saw the two of us coming out of a bathroom together.