A Jar of Hearts

by Cartharn, Clarissa

  “What about Avanna?”

  “Avanna is nothing without her brother. And it is unlikely that the next man appointed to run The Pachecos would be interested in you and Anne. In fact, there are already signs of the gang disseminating.”

  “What about José and Snipes? They know where we are.”

  Mark braced his arm onto the rails as he looked down into the valley in the mountains. “They won’t talk. We’ve relocated them to a prison across the country and promised them a new identity if they keep their word. They’re going to testify against Juan and that itself is going to scare them into keeping their mouths shut if they want to stay alive. Being a gangster is an unforgiving business.”

  “So no one else knows where Anne and I are?”

  “Just them. They wanted to be sure they had got you first before announcing their victory to Juan. Unfortunately for them, things didn’t turn out as they had hoped it would.”

  “But how did they find out about our locations?” Eric shook his head with bafflement.

  “It just goes to show The Pachecos have their reach in extraordinary places- ones that go beyond the common man.”

  Eric looked over at the luscious green valley. The breeze ruffled his short dark locks, relaxing the tension in his muscles. He realized though the news of Juan Carlos’ end had a lot to do with it too.

  “Juan thinks James Connelly is dead,” Mark said slowly. “It would be good if we can keep it that way.”

  Eric understood what he meant. If James died, that meant a need for resurrecting Eric Tanner. And that also would mean revealing the truth to Anne.

  That annoying pulse returned to his temples. Fuck, why was it that good news always had the habit of possessing such short lives? He didn’t know if Anne would accept such farce with good humor. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell her that truth just yet.

  James led Mark to the front door. “You sure you won’t stay any longer?”

  “No, I think I’m done for now. I’d just like to go back to Julia and Ashley.”

  “You’re leaving already?” Anne asked, walking over to them.

  James put an arm around her shoulders. “He’s eager to go back home.”

  “I can understand why.” She smiled. “I wish though you could have brought Julia and Ashley along with you. I miss them all. And Boots and Harley.”

  “I’ll be sure to bring them next time,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her on her cheek. “But I expect you to make your first visit. That cat of yours has made it known that he belongs to no one but you.”

  She laughed. “Boots can be such a spoilt brat sometimes. Thank you for putting up with him.”

  “We love him and he is no trouble at all. I don’t think Harley shares my opinion though.” Mark grinned.

  “Give my love to Julia and Ashley,” she said.

  “I will.” He glanced over at James. “Take care of Anne.”

  James nodded, fully comprehending his underlying message. Anne would be hurt and it was left up to him to figure out how he was going to minimize that as much as possible.

  “For Anne?” the florist said with a smile as she handed over the radiant bouquet of sweet peas, jonquils and hyacinths.

  “Yes.” He smiled. Although Anne might not be able to see such a beautiful and elegant bunch of flowers, she would love its divine feminine fragrance and he couldn’t wait to see her bury her nose into it.

  He tried ignoring the honesty niggling at his conscience, prodding him that the flowers was actually compensation for hiding the truth from her, and he hated himself for it.

  A week had gone by and his decision to not reveal that he was Eric was beginning to smother the life inside him. I need to tell her soon… today… maybe tomorrow.

  He weighed the state of her temperament recently. She had grown calm and happier since being told Juan was behind bars. She was ecstatic that they finally could live an ordinary life without worrying all the time about someone trying to hurt them. Perhaps, he should let her cherish that peace a little longer.

  He drove back home, conflicted about when he should tell her. As he wove into his driveway, he noticed a dark Bentley standing outside his house, its insignia sparkling in the light of the sun. Its driver was leaning against his door, seemingly waiting for whoever was visiting Anne. Everything about it spelt wealth and extravagance.

  A knot tightened in his stomach, hoping against all hope that he was mistaken about the person calling on Anne.

  He stepped in warily into his house and overheard Anne’s cheery tone.

  “Oh, James is finally here,” she was saying.

  “That’s good. I have been eager to know who this James Connelly is for a long time,” the man answered sternly. “I have a good mind to tell him what I think about him for running my daughter all over the country like she was some goddamned fugitive.”

  “Phillip,” a woman growled at him.

  “Dad, you promised that you will behave,” Anne added strictly. “I won’t have you talking to James with that tone.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because he’s my boyfriend! And he’s important to me!” she exclaimed impatiently. “If not for him, at least for my sake you will respect him.”

  Her father huffed and he heard her stomping out of the room and towards the hallway.

  “James?” she asked, trying to retain some placidity in her voice.

  “Hey.” He put an arm around her and kissed her on her brow, slipping the bouquet into her hands at the same time.

  “For me?” She smiled.

  “Yes.”

  “They smell delicious.”

  “They’re beautiful as well,” he said.

  “I’m sure they are.” She beamed. “James, I know this has come as a surprise but my parents are here.”

  She put her hand into his and he gripped it firmly. Was he going to lose her today?

  His nervousness flooded through him, almost drowning his senses as she walked with him into the living room.

  “Dad-” she started.

  “Eric!” the woman standing beside her father gasped.

  Anne paled on hearing the name, but tried ignoring it. “This… this is James Connelly.”

  “You were dead,” the woman continued as she stared at him in a state of shock and bewilderment. “What kind of joke is this?”

  “What’s going on?” Phillip Mullen growled with anger.

  “He is James Connelly,” Anne said sternly.

  “I’ve met Eric. I know Eric. He is Eric!” The woman burst out dizzily.

  “Stop it! James may look like …him, but he is not him!” she shouted furiously,

  “I don’t believe it… I don’t believe it,” the woman muttered as she fell against Phillip Mullen, her eyes wide and pinned on James with utter stun.

  “This is not Eric! This isn’t Eric!” Anne screamed, her body shaking from her ire and her tears flowing from the frustration inside her. “Please… please stop it…”

  “Lucy,” James said slowly.

  Anne quavered, letting his hand go. And when he looked at her, she was staggering, her face ashen and drained from color.

  “Anne.” He reached out to hold her but she pushed him away feebly.

  “Stay away from her!” Phillip shouted. “Stay away from my daughter, you lying bastard!”

  CHAPTER 36

  Eric stood quietly on the verandah, hearing Anne and her parents squabble, trying to make sense of the insanity he had hurled them into.

  “How is it that you didn’t know he was the same man?!” her father screamed at her.

  “I didn’t! I suspected at first… but there were some things… I don’t know…” Anne was fumbling for words.

  “But why… why did he do it?” Lucy pressed her.

  “I don’t know! I don’t why… what… how…” Anne stammered with bafflement and frustration.

  “Well, you know what he is now,” Phillip grit angrily between his teeth. “Pack what�
��s important and let’s go home.”

  “Dad, I can’t just-”

  “I’m not hearing another word from you! You’ve had your way too long! You’re coming home, Anne!”

  “Phillip,…” Lucy begged. “Surely there must be some rationality to what he has done.”

  “What rationality, Lucy?!” he roared. “What fucking rationality? The man is a conning bastard that is all the rationality you need to understand this shit! He is a liar and he doesn’t deserve Anne!”

  “Dad, please…” Anne croaked between her tears.

  “Pack your stuff! Now!”

  Eric shut the door, drowning out their voices. He didn’t want to hear anymore. Perhaps, her father was right. He had a week to tell her the truth and he had stalled it because deep inside he was a liar.

  He leaned against the rails, trying to move his attention to the greenery of the mountains, but it did nothing to ease the guilt or the pain inside him.

  A few moments later he heard the driver of the Bentley start his engine, doors slammed and the car veered out of his driveway and back into the main road.

  She is gone. He bit hard into his trembling lower lip. She is gone and I did nothing to stop her.

  His legs wobbled under him and he held fast onto the rails to stop himself from collapsing to the floor. He should have tried explaining it to her. She deserved to know why. Instead, he had cowered outside, refusing to confront the problem head-on like he should have. He must get her back. But how? Why would she even have him? There was nothing redeeming about him.

  He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to stop his tears from running out of them. He gripped the rails until his knuckles grew white from his tight vice. Even if she didn’t want him, he had to try. He would go down on his knees if he needed to, but he couldn’t give up. Not without trying.

  “Eric,” she said, hurtling him back into reality.

  “You stayed,” he mumbled dazedly, not knowing whether to hug her or hold back. “You didn’t go.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she said.

  “But why? Your father was right. I am a lying bastard.”

  “Yes, you are. But Lucy is right too. I believe you wouldn’t do this without a reason.”

  He staggered up to her with disbelief. He was relieved that she hadn’t left, that she was willing to give him a chance… but… “You have too much faith in me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, Anne.”

  “That’s up to me to decide,” she said curtly. She lowered her head, trying to breathe steadily. She was curbing her temper, he realized.

  She then lifted her head and a strange peace had overpowered her. She cupped his face with her soft palm. “I have faith in you because I love you. I always have.”

  “Anne-”

  “Sshhh,” she whispered. “Let me say this. Deep inside… I probably knew you were Eric. I was denying the truth about you just as much as you were hiding it from me. I was enjoying what we had and I didn’t want to risk losing it.”

  “Anne.” He licked his lips nervously. He had to tell her at least now. “I couldn’t tell you the truth before but when Mark visited us a week ago to inform me that the case was over, I could have told you then. But I didn’t. I was scared… I was afraid about what you would do. But I was wrong.” He covered her palm caressing the side of his face. “I hurt you and I am sorry.”

  “You talk too much.” She gave him a small smile. “Why were you afraid?”

  He stared at her confusedly. Surely she knew. He was a fucked up bastard. No woman as beautiful as her would care to tolerate a man like him.

  “Don’t you believe that I love you?” she asked.

  “You’ve never said the words to James,” he uttered.

  “Only to Eric,” she agreed. “And I am sorry about that. So you see; you were not wrong to hide the truth from me. I was partly to blame.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” he rasped quickly against her. “This thing… this entire thing is my fault alone.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not listening, Eric. I’ve been wanting to tell you… James… that I loved him just as much as Eric. Maybe even more. But I held back too. It was like I would betray Eric if I said the words to James. But now, you’re both James and Eric…”

  “Anne, don’t-”

  “When we went to town to buy some beads for my cushions a few weeks ago, I found this.” She sniveled and held forward a jar filled to the brim with colorful beads.

  Why hadn’t he seen her holding that? He took it, studying it and yet not knowing what to make of it.

  “Open it,” she whispered.

  He unscrewed the lid and spooned out a handful of it into his palm. His mind registered what they were and he looked up at her with amazement. “Anne, these are-”

  “Hearts,” she completed for him. “Hundreds of tiny little hearts… my hearts… for you. I love you, Eric Tanner… James Connelly… whoever you are.” She grinned. “And every time we have a fight, a spat, or when we’re deciding to be just plain stupid about each other, you can toss one of those little hearts out. But when you see that I’ve filled them back up for you, you can be sure that I still love you. And I swear I will never stop loving you… not until you run out of your jar of hearts.”

  His legs grew unsteady and his head spun. She loved him. Despite everything, she still loved him.

  He threaded his hands through her hair and tugged her head to him. His mouth came over her lips as he kissed her long and hard. She groaned when he deepened his kiss, his hands wrapping at her waist to hold her against him.

  “And you’re my raison d’etre. My reason for living,” he muttered deliriously. “The beat of my heart, the life in it.”

  ALSO BY CLARISSA CARTHARN

  Winter’s End

  Red Collar

  Scent of Roses

  Claimed

  Affairs & Atonement

  Captive-Veiled Desires

  A Jar of Dreams

  COMING SOON!

  THE YEARNING

  CLARISSA CARTHARN

  They were two people brought together by grief, bounded by circumstances they never chose, and learned to love all over again.

  A JAR OF DREAMS

  CLARISSA CARTHARN

  BOOK 1 IN THE JAR SERIES

  He was the assassin running for his life and she was the blind refuge who gave him reason to stop and fight for theirs

  When Eric Tanner, an assassin, is targeted to be murdered by his former employer, he seeks refuge in the house of a blind woman, Anne Mullen.

  Eric knows how to live in silence. He’s done it all his life. So when he discovers Anne is blind and living on her own, he thinks this would be his perfect hideout.

  But then he makes the mistake of his life. He forms an attachment to her. And for a man in his profession, such attachments are a weakness. Now, he must do everything he can to protect Anne from the world he’s come from.

  CAPTIVE

  VEILED DESIRES

  CLARISSA CARTHARN

  Nora Jennings quit her job as a photographer for a small community newspaper to fulfill her dreams of traveling. First stop- Kashmir, the land renowned as heaven on Earth.

  But dreams have a terrible habit of turning into a nightmare. And suddenly she finds herself bound and gagged in Afghanistan, ready to be wedded to Pashtun warlord, Adam Afridi.

  CAPTIVE- VEILED DESIRES

  CLARISSA CARTHARN

  HAPTER 1

  Freedom- you don’t know what that means until it is taken away from you.

  Nora Jennings breathed in the cool, Kashmiri air. She had long wanted to visit the little state in India. She couldn’t remember what attracted her to it first. Perhaps, it was the green hills of Sonmarg, or the wintery alpines of Gulmarg. But when she received her first opportunity to travel, of all places she chose Kashmir.

  Her best friend, Amy had called her stupid. “Do you know the place is in conflict?” she had said. “They kidnap western
tourists and sever their heads as well.”

  “That was in 1995, Amy. It’s been almost twenty years since.”

  “It still is dangerous, Nora,” she said, shaking her head. “There is so much of the world for you to see. Paris, London, Madrid, Venice. Why not one of these?”

  “Because we know so much about those places, it’s like I’ve visited them already. But Kashmir… Kashmir is unknown. It’s different.”

  “You’ve lost your mind, Nora. You really have.”

  But Amy being Amy didn’t stop to try and change her mind until she had purchased her ticket. And for that reason, Nora had bought it quicker than she would ordinarily have. As expected, Amy stopped urging her to not go. However, her opinions on Nora’s supposed erroneous decision lasted until she boarded the flight.

  The cool breeze ruffled her hair as she sat back in a floating [1]shikara, watching other colorful canoes pass by silently on the peaceful waters of Dal Lake in Srinagar. Houseboats swamped the lake, operating as houses and stores. This was the Venice of sub-continent India.

  She smiled at the children on the narrow piers that linked one houseboat to another. Some waved at her, while others smiled shyly. She smiled back, readying her brand new Canon point and shoot camera. The price had cut her back on her savings drastically but it was well-worth the investment. Photography was the major reason she had chosen to come to Kashmir. The scenic views, the historic elements- they were a delight for any person with a passion for the stilled arts.

  Her job as a photographer for a small community newspaper like the Chicago Herald hadn’t paid much, but she had loved it. However, there came a point of time in life when you assess your dreams and you realize you hadn’t even lived half of them. She was twenty-eight, graduated with a photography major and working the same job for the last seven years. It was a life she never had envisioned for herself. This was not how it was supposed to have turned out.