Shattered Hart: Hart Pursuit Trilogy Book 2

by Paige, Violet

  I would have time to figure out how to explain everything to my listeners later. I could record my own reflections of this meeting. I could conduct an interview looking back on today—piece the story together. I would be able to handle the podcast no matter what I did. But I had to let everything happen first. I knew it was the right decision to leave it.

  My reflection in the window was distorted by the rain. I didn’t have an umbrella or a rain coat. The drops fell faster. I jogged along the pea gravel path and up the front steps. I shook out my hair.

  I couldn’t believe this was how it was going to happen. That after all these years it would be today. On a muddy road in the backwoods of Louisiana. In the middle of nowhere. Unannounced. As unplanned as the way I came into the world.

  I knocked on the door.

  I was getting ready to meet my mother.

  Three

  The rain gathered in the gutters and splashed over the edge of the roof. I waited. And waited. I knocked again.

  “Hello?”

  Anticipation turned to frustration. The floorboards creaked under my feet as I shifted back and forth. I looked over my shoulder at the narrow drive I had taken to get here. I couldn’t see beyond the bend in the driveway. It was overgrown with bushes. The foliage was thick on the entire property. It was hard to get a sense of just how large it was.

  I jumped when I heard something slam on the other side of the house. “Hello?” I called.

  I walked to the edge of the porch and peeked around the corner. I saw a screen door swing open on a cement stoop and bang into the doorframe. Was someone here?

  I walked down the porch stairs, not caring anymore about the rain. I wiped the side of my face, smearing my mascara.

  “Is someone there? Hi.” I marched up the side staircase. It looked like it was part of a laundry or mudroom entrance.

  I tried twisting the handle, but it was locked. I knocked on the door. There was no awning or porch overhead to keep the droplets from running in my eyes.

  I pressed my face to the window, but it was dark inside as if the glass was tinted. I couldn’t make out anything. No movement. No light. I couldn’t be entirely sure the house wasn’t empty. I didn’t see the outline of furniture. I squinted, but rain ran in my eye. I heard another bang. This time it came from the back of the house.

  I hopped off the side stoop and hurried along the path to the backyard. I was blocked by a fence, but quickly found the latch on the gate and let myself in. The roses growing over the arbor had started to bloom even though they were covered by vines that had no right to be there. The grass was high and the flower pots on the back porch were empty.

  The uneasiness I felt grew. I started to think no one lived here, and they hadn’t for quite some time. I walked up the stairs and tapped on the backdoor. It was my last attempt. The jitters and nerves were turning to anger. Why would someone have sent me here?

  I moved away from the door when I fully realized this had been nothing but a cruel joke. I didn’t want to admit I could be tricked. I could be duped.

  There was no one here. Especially not my mother.

  I tried my phone again, but it was locked and the screen was blank. The battery had been drained searching for service that didn’t exist.

  I groaned, slouching into the wooden swing on the end of the short back porch. I needed a minute before I climbed into my car and drove away. I needed to think about how I had gotten to this point.

  I pushed off the floor with my heels, watching the rusted metal hooks overhead. Miraculously, they held my weight as I swung back and forth. I kicked off again. This time floating higher.

  All it had taken was one text. One small message to drag me out of AJ’s bed and onto this cold damp Louisiana porch. One text to jeopardize what we had mended.

  And for what? What kind of game was this? Who played this dirty? I buried my head in my hands. Why in the hell had I been so gullible?

  Our night together had been everything I had waited and longed for over the last five years. Five fucking years. And I threw it away for this? A rusted out farmhouse? I wanted to cry and scream. But I was the only one to blame. It was me this time—I had left. It wasn’t AJ.

  I didn’t like to think about when he left me. Yet, it was almost always there. Hooked to the back of an unrelated thought like a train car hitching a ride. Don’t think about it, inevitably meant I thought about it. About that moment. About him.

  I looked out across the yard. There was a barn in the far corner of the lot. I didn’t like the idea of walking out there, but I wanted answers. I’d take anything at this point. Any type of clue, no matter how small. I was fueled by a new anger coursing through me. I pushed off the swing and trudged across the yard. I was careful walking through the tall grass. My ankles still hurt from the zip ties my kidnappers had used, and I didn’t know what kind of critters might be lying in the grass.

  I was surprised when the wooden handle turned on the barn door. The hinges squeaked when I pulled the heavy door open. I wished I could use the flashlight on my phone. I peered into the darkness, with only the gray light from outside to see. There wasn’t much inside. An old tractor. A workbench with tools scattered about. A pair of bikes dumped in the corner. I sighed. I’d come up empty again.

  This barn could have belonged to anyone. There was nothing that stood out. Nothing personal. No pictures on the walls. No names carved into the wood. No stacks of cardboard boxes.

  I closed the door and walked back to the house through the rain. By now, my clothes were soaked and my hair stuck to my forehead and neck. The chill seeped into my skin. I wanted to turn on the heat in the car and drive back to D.C.

  Only I had no idea what I was driving back to. Would there be anything left? I had dropped a grenade and run. AJ would be furious. Would he even speak to me again? I had blown off the mandatory debrief with the FBI. I hadn’t returned his calls. I had betrayed him at the deepest level. I had broken promises I couldn’t un-break.

  I knew what it felt like to wake up alone. I was the one person who should have been incapable of causing that kind of pain. And up until three days ago, I swore I was.

  But suddenly after five years, AJ was back in my life. Confessing his love. Promising his protection. Taking me under in his bed. What did it all mean? Three days on the road should have cleared my head, but it didn’t. I was focused on finding my birth mother.

  I fought against thinking about what happened on that airplane. I didn’t want to relive the moments in the baggage hold. How we almost died. Instead, I thought about what she might look like. I wondered if she would have blue eyes too, or if maybe I had gotten those from my father. Would she talk softly? Would we have the same freckles on our arms or the same laugh? Would she know who I was without me having to say a word?

  The drive from D.C. didn’t clear my head. It jumbled it with more questions and confusion. I stepped in a puddle. The water seeped into the leather on my shoes. “Shit,” I whispered.

  I looked up when I heard an engine coming down the driveway. I couldn’t see it through the overgrown foliage, but someone was headed toward me. I cowered toward the side of the house. A sliver of hope wormed its way in. Maybe this was her. She was back from a trip to the market. The closest town was forty-five minutes from here. It made sense she would be gone for long periods of time to run errands.

  As the tires rumbled over the gravel and the car emerged from the brush, the sinking pit in my stomach opened wide.

  The car pulled up next to mine in the semi-circle drive. The wiper blades swishing at a furious pace.

  As soon as the door opened I knew I had made a terrible mistake.

  My eyes locked on his. Dark midnight eyes that knew the depths of my soul.

  It wasn’t my birth mother.

  It was AJ.

  Four

  I couldn’t hide on the side of the house forever. The longer I waited the more absurd it seemed. I stepped forward away from the camellia bush. Even it looked ha
lf-dead.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice sounded small as I tried to act confident.

  The door slammed behind him. He stepped into the puddles, kicking rocks out of his way. The rain fell between us in fat heavy drops.

  “Syd.” He stared at me. His eyes were dark and piercing. He stole my breath. He stirred a craving under my skin. I had to ignore the electric tension that emerged whenever he was near.

  My eyes fell to the gravel. I couldn’t look at him. Not when I’d hurt him the way I had. Not after I had run away without an explanation.

  “How did you find me?”

  He huffed. “That’s what you have to say?”

  I took a step backward toward the shelter of the porch and the hanging swing. I didn’t want to stand in the rain. I didn’t have to turn around to know AJ was following me. I moved quietly along the porch and took a seat on the swing. AJ leaned against a pillar just under the roof out of the rain. His biceps bulged, slick and wet.

  “What the hell happened?” It didn’t look as if he had shaved since I left. A sexy five o’clock shadow had filled in along his jaw. “What are we doing here? I thought we had an understanding.”

  I didn’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered. “I left a note.”

  “A note?” He folded his arms across his chest. “It didn’t explain shit. I called. Texted. You didn’t answer anything. It’s been three days.”

  “How did you get here? How did you know where to look for me?”

  “This is how it’s going to go?” His eyebrows arched. “Question for question? Back and forth until you crack?”

  “Who said I was going to be the one to crack?” I was defensive even though I had no right to be. I had skipped out on a promise. I had left him after the most emotionally intense and raw night of my life.

  “What are you doing here, Syd? The only thing your note said is that you would explain.”

  I exhaled. “You didn’t need to follow me. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t pull this shit.” He eyed me.

  I knew I had to tell him what brought me to this house. He had a right to know. After everything we had been through together, I owed him that. I had pledged everything to him, and him to me.

  “I got a text that someone found my mom. Here.” I nodded toward the house. “This was the address they gave me.”

  “After the hell we just went through, why would you do something so stupid?”

  My spine bristled. “I thought it was a good lead. I had to hurry. It was an emergency.”

  “An emergency. And you didn’t think you should wake me up to tell me?”

  “That would have been the polite thing to do.” I winced. “But it wasn’t about you. I had to go. I didn’t think it through. I just acted. I thought this was my chance to find her.”

  “And instead you’re at an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. With no protection and no backup.” He was talking like an FBI agent.

  “Yes.” I exhaled. “Someone played a nasty mind game and they won. Ok? Does that make you happy? It was a goose chase. A lie. A trick. The entire trip was concocted. I get it. Ok?”

  “You know that doesn’t make me happy.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you if it did.”

  “Since when have I been the vindictive type?”

  “Why are you here?” I asked. My eyes lifted to his.

  “Because this is where you are, Syd.”

  I felt a tiny crack in the back of my throat.

  “Because I’m worried about you. We just went through something that most people can’t handle. You shouldn’t be alone.” The corners around his eyes softened.

  “So how did you track me down this quickly? Should I be impressed or terrified?”

  He smirked. “I chipped your equipment.”

  “What?” The indignation returned.

  “It was for protection. To keep you safe. I didn’t expect you to run. I wanted to make sure I could find you in case…” His words trailed off.

  “In case what?” My voice squeaked.

  He shook his head. “I almost lost you. What did you think I was going to do? Leave that to chance? Fuck that, Syd. We were supposed to be in this together. How could you pull something like this? After everything. After the kidnapping.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t about you. It was about finding my mom.”

  He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Isn’t it always?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s not?” He strolled toward me, his footsteps heavy on the floorboards. “You’ve got to find a way to deal with this right now that doesn’t put your life in danger. I think you need to stop looking for her.”

  I glared at him. “I’m not going to do that.”

  “It doesn’t have to be permanent. But until we get a handle on what happened with the airplane hijacking, with the man following you, with Project Compass—you can’t search for your mom like this. It’s not safe.”

  I leapt up from the swing. “You don’t know what I might have found here. What if this is her house? What if she needs me? She could have been here. Maybe she was, and I’m just too late. We don’t know that. What if she’s the one in danger?”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders. His strong fingers dug into my flesh. “Let her go for now. This is dangerous. This house probably has nothing to do with the woman who is your birth mother. It’s nothing. It’s meaningless. It was a ploy to distract you—nothing more.”

  “You don’t know that.” I was grasping at anything I could. This lead felt like the only thing I had. I couldn’t bear to have him take that hope away from me.

  “Who sent you the text?” he pressed.

  I didn’t want to try to explain, but I knew there wasn’t an easy way out of it.

  “A man named Ethan Howard. I met him on the Texas trip last weekend.”

  “And you blindly followed it?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. I realized how naïve it sounded to admit that the text felt like a lifeline.

  “Ethan wasn’t like that.” I tried to explain why I had believed him when we spoke. “What possible angle could he have had?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t trust him. Look around us. I need to know everything about him. Because he got you to drive all the way from D.C. to Louisiana. This house has been abandoned. We should get out of here. Do you have cell reception? Because I don’t.”

  I shook my head. “No, I lost it a few miles before I made it onto the turn.” He finally let go of my shoulders. I felt the warmth of where his hands had been.

  He looked out on the horizon. We both saw how black the sky was. The thunder rumbled in the distance.

  “Why don’t I follow you in your car into the nearest town? I don’t know that this is the best place to leave a car overnight. We’ll get some coffee and figure this thing out,” he suggested. “I think we’re going to need to stay overnight to get the details sorted. There is a lot of shit going on, Syd. You can’t pull this kind of crap right now.” He ran his hand through his dark hair. “You know Beechum is out there? Jelly Bean Jack? And whoever else was in the marketplace. This isn’t safe. You can’t go out on your own. We’ll head to D.C. in the morning and you’re going under full FBI protection. Immediately.” His eyes bore into mine.

  “I haven’t changed my mind. I still don’t want to have anything to do with Project Compass. Or FBI protection. Unless that’s you. You know that,” I protested.

  “One thing at a time. Let’s find some coffee and a room for tonight. Ok? We’ll talk about Project Compass once we’re dry and out of the storm.”

  I nodded. The exhaustion had started to hit me and my wet clothes stuck to my skin. I hoped AJ realized we weren’t staying in a random motel. As soon as we had reception, I’d book something at the highest star rating I could find.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  He guided me off the porch and we made a run for it as the rain started to com
e down in sheets.

  I pulled open the driver side and slid into the seat, coating the soft leather interior with water. I winced at the mess I had made. I turned the key in the ignition, and nothing happened. It was silent. I cranked it again. I looked over at AJ in his car.

  I saw the confused look on his face. Neither car would start.

  He stepped out of the car and jogged over to me.

  “Get out of the car!” he shouted through the window.

  “What’s going on?” I met him as a streak of lightning rocketed nearby.

  “Nothing good,” he answered. “Come on.” He grabbed me by the arm and tugged me up the front porch.

  I watched as he paced in front of the railing, scanning the brush beyond the oak trees.

  “What’s going on? Do we need a jump? Is it our batteries?” I questioned.

  My lungs seized when I saw him reach against the small of his back and pull out his gun.

  “It’s not the batteries. Stay here,” he ordered. “Out of sight.” He jumped off the porch, gun drawn, and ran across the lawn. I couldn’t stop him. He was headed straight for the woods.

  Five

  It was happening all over again. I huddled in the corner of the porch and watched, horrified, as AJ disappeared between the trees and branches. I thought I saw the outline of his black T-shirt, but then it was gone.

  The wounds on my ankles and wrists, still fresh from the zip ties that bound me in the wooden crate, suddenly ached.

  Hadn’t I just experienced this with AJ? The hopelessness of not being able to stop him from running into danger? The inability to keep him from trying to protect me first above anything else. We had escaped the precipice of death, only to face more uncertain darkness. And why? Because I was drawn to anything that shed light on who my parents were—even danger. I couldn’t resist.

  I nervously crouched and waited.

  What was happening? What did he see in the dense foliage? Why wouldn’t our cars start? Why did he always insist on leaving me behind? I would have felt better running with him.