Stitched Up Heart
Copyright © 2016 Tarina Deaton LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of limited quotes used for the purpose of reviews, no part of this book, whether in print or ebook format, may be reproduced, scanned, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means - electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Editor: Denise Gates
Cover Photo: R plus M Photograpy
Model: Conner Smith
Cover Design: Imagination UnCovered
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Copyright: 2016 Tarina Deaton LLC
ISBN: 978-0-9978856-1-3
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note from the Author
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Acknowledgements
About Tarina
Author’s Note
Note from the Author
This novel contains mature adult situations and is only suitable for ages 18+ due to language, violence, and sexual situations. Stitched Up Heart explores veteran PTSD and suicide and may contain possible triggers.
To the women who have served and still serve today.
Because not every G.I. is a Joe.
Ugh. How many times had she asked him not to park in the carport? Her house. Her spot. How hard was that to understand?
Bree stopped her SUV next to the walkway, giving Chad plenty of room to back out. She dropped her head to the steering wheel and banged it a couple times. One good thing about him showing up unannounced - now she didn’t have to call him to say we need to talk.
Only she could go from planning on breaking up with a guy a month ago to being engaged to him. She lifted her head and sighed. “Time to put your big girl panties on, Marks.”
Turning off the ignition, she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and got out. She detoured into the yard to pick up the circular before trudging up the porch steps. Odd - the front door was unlocked. Why did he unlock the front door if he parked on the side of the house? Why wouldn’t he just use the side door?
Bree stumbled and slammed her hip into the edge of the foyer table. “Ow! Shit.” She looked to see what she had tripped over.
Those were not her stripper shoes. Even if she owned a pair of six-inch platform stilettos, those were about three sizes too small. What the hell?
“Chad?” She dropped her bag on the foyer table and walked through the foyer into the open concept living room, kitchen, and breakfast nook. His sports coat hung on the back of one of the kitchen stools. She turned left and walked down the short hall to the bedrooms. Just outside her room she heard his voice, “Oh, baby,” followed by a high-pitched moan.
I swear, if he is fucking some bitch in my bed, I’m going to cut off his cock.
Bree closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her anger as it rose up through her chest. Her fists clenched and unclenched in rhythm to the grunts and groans coming through the cracked door. She shook her hands to loosen the tension when she realized what she was doing.
“Orange is not your color. Orange is not your color,” she muttered.
Bree pushed the door open to the sight of Chad thrusting into a pair of legs. She leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed her arms, drawing on the stillness.
“Hey, Chad, sweetie. Are you busy?”
Chad scrambled to a kneeling position, his eyes wide. He whipped the sheet around his lower body and exposed the girl under him. “Bree! Shit! What are you doing home? You’re early. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“One, I live here, seeing as how it’s my house and all. And two, you’re really going to go with ‘this isn’t what it looks like’? Did you slip and fall and this lovely woman was nice enough to catch you with her vagina?”
The girl came up on her elbows and pushed her white-blonde hair out of her face. “You said you weren’t married.”
“Oh, we’re not,” Brianna said. “You’ve got about two seconds to get out of my house before I get my gun.”
“What!? Me or him?” the blonde asked as she sat up fully.
“Uh, both of you. I sure as hell don’t want you sticking around to chit chat after I just found you banging my boyfriend.” Her piercing gaze shifted back to Chad. “Oh, wait. We’re engaged now.”
“Bree, honey.” The asshat hopped on one foot, scrambling to pull his pants up. “This doesn’t mean anything. She’s just some chick I met at the bar last week. She’s no one.”
“You asshole!” Blondie slid out of the bed and grabbed her patterned leggings from the floor. “Don’t believe a word he says. We’ve been screwing for months. Although now I understand why we always had to go to my place.”
She finished dressing and stomped toward Bree. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was engaged. I wouldn’t have…” Her eyes glittered as she looked up at Bree and she swiped a hand roughly across her cheek. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
Yeah, right. Shit. That wasn’t fair. There’s no telling what lies Chad told this girl. She seemed contrite. Ashamed even. It would be easy to blame her for Chad’s fuck up. Bree ran a hand over her face and struggled against the urge to lash out at her. “Don’t worry about it. I know whose fault it is.”
Blondie gave her a little nod and brushed passed. Bree turned her attention back to Chad. “Get. Out.”
His white button-up hung open and a sock tuck out of one of his pockets. “Bree, please. I’m sorry. It really didn’t mean anything. It’s just been stressful with some stuff at work and you won’t set a date for the wedding.”
She came away from the door frame, fighting to control her reaction as anger seethed inside. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you fucking dare blame this on stress—” she emphasized with air quotes “—or me because I’m not in a rush to get married. This is all you.”
“You’re right. I know, you’re right.” Chad moved closer to Bree. “I love you so much, Bree. I see you pulling away and—”
“And you decide to fuck some chick in my bed to get my attention? What the hell are you even doing here? What would even possess you to bring someone here?”
“Sweetie, it wasn’t like that. I came by to make you dinner and surprise you. She followed me and I couldn’t get her to leave.”
She gestured toward her bed. “And this was the best way you could think of to get her to leave?”
“That was what she wanted and I figured it’d be easier to get her out the door before you came home, but you got off work early.” He tried to pull Brianna into his embrace.
She stepped back. “Do not touch me. You don’t get that right anymore. I wasn’t kidding when I told you to get out. I’ll send any shit you have here to your place. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you. We. Are. Done!”
Chad sighed. “Gran is going to be very disappointed.”
It took everything in her not to throat punch him. “You are such a fucking asshole. Seriously? You’re throwing my eighty-five-year-old grandmother in my face? Believe me, she’ll be okay with me kicking your ass to the curb when she knows why.”
“You’re going to tell her?” Chad’s voice rose in panic along with the flush that crept up his face.
Had he always been this stupid and she had just ignored it, or was this a new development? How had she gotten to this point? Why had she let it go on for so long?
She spoke slowly. “Yes, Chad. I’m going to tell my family why I’m breaking off the engagement. We’re done here.” Bree stormed out of the room and down the short hall to the kitchen, where she tore his suit jacket off the back of the kitchen stool. Grabbing his shoes by the heels, she opened the door, then stepped onto the wide porch that ran the entire front of her house and threw all his things onto the walkway.
“Bree! That coat cost eight hundred dollars!” Chad jogged down the steps to pick up his things.
“Well, that’s just ridiculous.” Bree stormed back into her house, slammed, then locked the door behind her.
She leaned against the door and took several calming breaths. “Stupid fucking asshole.” She snatched her purse off the table and dug around for her phone. Still muttering curses, she dialed as she walked into the dining room.
Denise answered on the second ring. “What up, chica?”
She opened the corner hutch. Empty. “Do you have any alcohol?”
“I might. What do you need?”
“Vodka. Or whiskey. Both if you’ve got it.”
“Uh…do I need to bring a shovel, too?”
Brianna let out a short laugh. “No. I avoided doing anything that would land me in jail. Just come over when you can and I’ll fill you in then.”
“Dude. You gotta give me a clue. You never drink liquor.”
“Oh no, you’re going to want to hear this in person.” Her wine rack was bare as well. “Where is my wine? How do I not even have any wine?”
“Pretty sure we drank it last weekend. I’m heading out the door now. Don’t break out the mouthwash before I get there.” The phone disconnected.
Where the hell are Charlie and Polly? She set her phone on the counter and opened one of the french doors. Her two dogs, Charlie and Polly, came running from across the wide lawn. Bree sat in one of the loungers on the deck and leaned against the back with her legs on either side of the long seat, feet on the floor. Polly jumped up onto the lounger and lay down with her head on Bree’s hip, staring up at her. Bree scratched Polly’s ears. “Well. That sucked.” Polly raised her head. “I know what you’re thinking. I should have broken up with him a long time ago.” Polly lowered her head back to Bree’s hip and huffed. “Especially since he never really liked you and Charlie. Should have been all the warning I needed.”
Charlie bound up the steps of the deck. He stood with his paws on the armrest of the lounger and tried to lick the side of Bree’s neck. “Eww! Gross. Quit.” Bree pushed him off the chair. “There’s no telling what you’ve been eating out here. Where’s your ball? Go get your ball!” Charlie leaped off the deck in search of one of the many tennis balls in the yard. She threw the ball until Charlie spread out in the shade of the large magnolia tree her grandfather had planted when he built the house for her grandmother.
Bree let out a sigh and pushed up from the lounger. The dogs trailed after her as she returned inside to her bedroom. She stood on the threshold of her room and sighed. She didn’t want to touch the sheets, but there was no way in hell she was ever going to use them again. Later. After she’d had a few drinks and checked to see whether Amazon sold hazmat suits. She changed her scrub top for a t-shirt and her yoga pants for cut-off shorts. Back in the kitchen, she poured a glass of water and made sure the dogs’ bowl was full.
The side door opened and closed. “You here?”
“In the kitchen.”
Denise walked around the corner holding a bottle of mandarin-flavored Absolut and a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for.”
“Well, I don’t have any cranberry juice for the vodka, so whiskey.”
Denise set both bottles on the counter. “You mixing it with soda or Bailey’s?”
“It’s a cut-my-alcohol-with-more-alcohol kind of night.”
“Right. So, what happened? And why is your car in the front of the house instead of on the side?” Denise pulled her long, honey-blonde hair into a bun and secured it with a hair tie.
“Chad. Chad happened.” Bree spared no detail as she poured their drinks. By drink three, she’d managed to fill Denise in on all the gory details.
“I have to ask again, because I’m having a hard time with this. In your bed?” Denise asked as they lounged in the living room.
“Yup.”
“What a dick. What was wrong with his place?”
“I have no idea. He said he came over to surprise me, she followed him, and one thing led to another.”
“How the hell does one thing lead to another?” Denise’s voice rose. “And how did she not realize a woman lived here? This house doesn’t exactly scream bachelor pad.”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he told her he had it decorated. I can’t work up the energy to care at this point.”
“What did she look like? Please tell me she didn’t look like you?”
Brianna considered the lock of her long, dark auburn hair she was twisting around her finger.
“Nope. She was short. Like, oompa-loompa short. She barely came up to my shoulders. Fake blonde hair and her boobs were fake.”
Denise gave her a crazy look. “Is that a guess or did you see more than you needed to see?”
“Oh my god. She had no shame. Chad whipped the sheet around him like he was Caesar on the Ides of March and left her naked as a jaybird. No one’s boobs are that perky unless they have supporting infrastructure. That chick had more plastic than a Hasbro factory.”
Denise laughed so hard she nearly toppled off the couch. “Oh my god, stop. All I can picture are her boobs in the shape of toy trucks.”
Denise’s laugh was infectious and Bree joined her. Then Denise snorted and they both lost it.
“The worst part is they were screwing on my favorite set of sheets.” Bree’s laughter faded to chuckles. “I’m going to have to buy a whole new mattress now.”
“Did you already burn the sheets?”
Bree dropped her head back against the sofa. “Ugh. I could barely look at the bed when I changed clothes. I’m going to need a full hazmat suit to get rid of them.”
Denise smiled before asking, “How’re you really doing?”
“I should have cut bait a long time ago. Hell, I never should have said yes when he proposed.” Bree raised her head back up.
“Kind of hard to say no when he blindsides you at your gran’s big birthday bash in front of all your friends and family. What I don’t know is why you didn’t break up with him before then.” Denise raised her eyebrows as she looked at Bree over the rim of her glass.
“Honestly, I don’t know either. Laziness?” She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to break it off for a while without being a complete bitch about it.” Bree sighed and sipped her drink. “I didn’t want to cause a big scene at Gran’s birthday.”
“You really thin
k she would have cared?”
“No,” Bree admitted. “But I panicked when he got down on one knee. Plus, he drove.”
“Hmm…I can see how that would have been a problem.”
“Yeah. I’m not even hurt. I’m fucking pissed. It’s just so freaking disrespectful. Seriously. Who does that shit?”
“Uh, a narcissistic asshole.”
“True story.” Bree finished off the rest of her drink. “We’re not doing this. I refuse to sit around and brood over what an asshat he is. Let’s go out.”
“Go out where? It’s eleven o’clock and I did not come dressed to go out and drink your cares away. I dressed to bury a body in the backyard.”
Bree looked at the cut-offs and t-shirt she had on. “We’ll go to The Deck. No need to change clothes. And I would never bury a body in my own backyard. That’s just asking to get caught.”
“The biker bar? Are you nuts? There’s a stabbing there every night.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m sure it’s only every other night.”
“Ha ha. Not the point.”
“Come on. My old boss used to go there and was always trying to get me to go. He said it was a cool place to chill and hang out.”
“He told you that because he was trying to get in your pants.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got no argument for that. Get your shoes, I’m getting us an Uber.”
“Fine.” Denise let out a disgruntled sigh but grabbed her shoes. “Who knows…maybe you’ll find the love of your life tonight.”
Bree stood and pointed at Denise. “Don’t jinx me.”
Jase set the parking brake on his truck and switched off the ignition. He sighed and stared at The Deck.
Fuck, it’d been months since he’d been here. Probably closer to a year. He didn’t want to be here now, but Brandon had asked him to come celebrate his separation from the Army. The promise he’d made himself warred with his desire to be anywhere else but here. But a buddy called. He answered. Even if it was to go to a bar.
He shouldered the door open and slammed it, thumbing the lock button on the fob over his shoulder. Gravel crunched under his boots as he crossed the parking lot. He took the steps two at a time and yanked the door open.
Stitched Up Heart (Combat Hearts Book 1) Page 1