Beneath Broken (Imperfect Heroes #2)

by C. J. Pinard

  Hunter laughed his fake laugh, and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, sugar. I didn’t mean anything by it. We’re just here to ask a few questions.”

  At that she smiled and kept her eyes locked on Hunter’s. “Owner’s not here. What can I do for ya?”

  “What’s your name?” Hunter asked her.

  “I’m Amber McCane.”

  “Well, Amber, do you remember anyone coming in before or after the robbery a couple months ago?”

  She threw her head back and laughed the most fake laugh I have ever had the displeasure of hearing. She then smirked, the pale pink lip gloss shining under the fluorescent lights of the office. “Maybe.”

  I had to hold myself back from throttling this bimbo. “Just answer the question, ma’am,” I bit out between my teeth with a forced smile.

  Hunter shot me a look that said shut the fuck up, and I tried my hardest to let him do the talking, since this Playboy Bunny wannabe was clearly into him.

  She looked at me with annoyance then back to Hunter. “I was laughing because we get so many people in and out of here, I don’t really remember everyone. Could you describe the guy?”

  Hunter replied, “The only thing we have to go on is that he’s a white male, short to average height, brown hair, and wears a shirt and tie. He may have been asking questions about the financial situation of the company, or the tax status.”

  Her eyes got big and she snapped her fingers. “Ah! Yeah, I remember that guy. He came in here and right away, he started asking those types of questions.” She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a nail file and began going to town on her nails, which were already long and pink. I clamped my mouth shut. I think I drew a little blood from biting my tongue.

  I could tell Hunter’s annoyance was growing by the second, but he kept his million-dollar smile plastered on and said, “Okay, sugar, that’s good. What can you tell us about him?”

  She shrugged a tanned shoulder and said, “Not much else. He was just kinda rude when I told him I didn’t know nothin’ about that stuff, and that he had to call back the following week because the owner, Mrs. Andrews, was out that week, and I didn’t think anyone else should be talkin’ to him about that type of stuff.”

  “Very good,” he said as if he were talking to a two-year-old. “He didn’t by chance give you a business card or anything, did he?”

  She stopped filing and got a faraway look on her face snapping her fingers again. “Ya know what, I think he did. He was flirtin’ with me and stuff… trying to charm me. You know, I can totally tell when someone is trying to flirt with me just because they want something.” She tapped her temple with her pink fingernail. “But I’m not stupid, you know. I don’t fall for that stuff.”

  I had to pretend to cough to cover the laugh that began to jerk itself free from my throat. How Hunter had any patience at all for this chick was beyond me. I just wanted her to get to the point so I could get the hell out of there. The smell of her cheap perfume was an assault on my nostrils.

  She pulled out the card and handed it to Hunter.

  He glanced at it and his pale eyebrows rose to his hairline, then he shot me a look, then looked back at Amber. “If you don’t mind, sweetie, we’ll be keeping this.”

  She unwrapped another piece of gum and popped it in her mouth, looking back down at her fingernails. “You can do anything you want, officer.”

  Hunter again displayed his million-dollar smile and said, “Thank you.”

  The minute we were outside, I made him show me the card. It read “Silas Short Personal Trainer” with an address and logo of Lenny’s gym at the bottom.

  I looked at Hunter. “What the actual fuck?”

  His look reflected what I felt. “Seriously. Who is this guy?”

  “Honestly, I never paid attention to the dudes working there.”

  With a cocky grin, I held the card up between two fingers. “Time to visit the gym on government time.”

  He snatched the card back, and his grin mirrored mine as we walked out of the small nonprofit business and out to the police-issued sedan in the parking lot.

  Chapter 11

  Harper

  The light turned red and my hands shook so badly I could barely find the icon to the address book of my phone. I somehow found Adria’s number and tried to regulate my breathing as the phone rang on the other end.

  “What’s up, babe?” she answered in her usual cheery tone.

  “Help. I need help.”

  I think I may pass out.

  “Oh, my God! What’s wrong, Harper? Tell me where you are right now!”

  An angry honk from behind me reminded me that the light had turned green. I hit the gas and drove like a robot, not even sure where I was going.

  “I’m in my car. I just made out with Mason. I mean, he kissed me. But instead of just relaxing and enjoying it, I got into my car and sped off like a lunatic!”

  Adria huffed out a breath. “Ok first off, don’t you ever scare me like that. I thought you had an actual problem or were in actual danger.” I could practically hear her eyes roll. “Secondly, who is Mason?”

  “The detective, the cute one with the dark hair and hot body. From the gym.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, yeah. You so need to break you off a piece of that.”

  “Adria! This is serious! I just kissed another man! I’m freaking out here!”

  “Woman, calm down. You’re acting like you just committed armed robbery and are in a getaway vehicle.”

  “That would be less stressful than this!”

  “Oh, grow up, Harper. You should be happy. Now give me all the deets. Pronto.”

  I sighed, finally calming a little at the sound of my best friend’s voice of reason. “There really isn’t anything. He came to the office for a follow-up, asked me to dinner, we had tacos, he walked me to my car, and then we kissed.”

  Adria squealed a little. “See, no big deal like you said.”

  I sighed, relaxing further. “I guess you’re right.”

  “But it is kind of a big deal – in a good way. Come on, this is pretty awesome. I’m so happy for you.”

  I turned down the street that would take me to my townhouse, still driving one-handed with my phone pressed to my ear. “But I feel guilty! Why do I feel guilty? Keith is gone, he’s never coming back.”

  She sighed. “Yes, sweetie. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll be truly happy. Do you still have that detective’s card?”

  I put my car in park and pulled the key from the ignition. “Yes, I think it’s in my desk drawer at work.”

  “Oh, that’s a good place for it,” she came back dryly.

  “I panicked,” was all I could respond with.

  She snorted at my lameness. “Well I just arrived at Lenny’s. Gage and I are doing free weights. I’d ask if you wanted to join us but you are probably stuffed with tacos.”

  “I only ate one.”

  “Well at least it wasn’t ice cream.”

  I smiled as I walked into the house and closed and locked the door behind me. “You’re right about that. They were sooo good, too. I’ll have to take you there sometime.”

  Adria was quiet for a minute. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I nodded, feeling so much calmer. “Yes, I am. Really. Enjoy your workout. I brought some work home so I’ll keep busy.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, where your ass will be at the gym with me after work.”

  I laughed a little. “Adria?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  She giggled. “You won’t be so grateful tomorrow when I wear your ass out on the elliptical.”

  I shook my head and ended the call, then set my cell on the kitchen counter and plugged it into the charger. I set my purse down next it and made my way toward the staircase to go upstairs and change.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, I looked at my closed bedroom door, took a cleansing breath, and opened it. Instead of holding m
y breath and averting my eyes from the bed, dresser, and window, though, I stopped and let my gaze fall over the room. It looked as it always had. King-sized bed in the center, new cherry-oak bedroom set, TV mounted to the wall, a big picture window covered by heavy taupe drapes on the far wall. The decal that read …And they lived happily ever after was still affixed above our wedding photo, which sat proudly mounted in a large frame above our bed.

  Tears pooled along my lashes when I stared at it, but I blinked them away and inhaled deeply through my nose. I was both happy and a little sad that the smell of Keith’s scent was no longer there. The room smelled like nothing at all. I wasn’t stupid enough to go lie down on the bed and pull his pillow to me and cry into it like I had so many times, memorizing his scent so I wouldn’t forget about him. I spotted his favorite flannel shirt, which lay on the end of the bed, and more tears sprang to my eyes, the memories of me curled up sleeping with it after he was gone flooding back to me.

  I wanted to bolt to my closet, snatch my clothes, and bolt right back out like I always did, but I didn’t.

  “You have to feel it,” I whispered to myself.

  More tears fell, and instead of fighting the grief and sadness, I stayed and made myself feel. Ghostly visions of Keith and I making love on the bed, snuggling in on Sundays watching football, or just talking, went by like a slideshow in my brain. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, telling myself I should be happy I had him for the short time I did before he left me forever and took my happiness with him.

  I slowly opened my eyes and blew out a breath. I was happy with myself for this small breakthrough. Slowly walking to the dresser, I ran my fingertips along the black handles of the drawers and over the oak top, which was covered in a fine layer of dust. A small framed photo of us on our honeymoon in Cancun was displayed there, willing me to touch it. I ran my fingers over the dusty glass and smiled sadly at us embracing on the beach. I went to Keith’s side of the bed and saw a small stack of fitness magazines lying on the floor. A sad smile twisted on my lips as I remember him reading magazines in bed and then tossing them to the floor when it was time for lights out. I longed to bend over and collect the magazines and stack them neatly on his nightstand like I would do every day, but I didn’t, because picking them up meant I’d never see them there on the floor again, as he’d never again fall asleep reading them.

  Melancholy swamped me when I realized how well I knew him. Then sadness blanketed my heart when I realized that all those small things I knew about him would have to be filed away in my heart and left there to collect dust. They were now just useless pieces of data that would never have any meaning to anyone but me. I grew sad thinking that this may be it for me. One love for a lifetime and maybe I was good and done at 27 years old.

  With a dramatic sigh, I slowly turned and weaved my way around the massive bed, gently brushing my fingertips over the quilted comforter. I headed toward the master bath. Looking at Keith’s closet, the door was still closed like it always was, and I decided I wasn’t going to go in there and deal with anything. It could wait. I’d done enough brave things today.

  I slowly undressed and put my clothes into the hamper. Walking naked into the master bathroom, I started up the shower that hadn’t been used in a very long time. Trying my hardest not to get emotional when I saw his body wash sitting in the shower caddy, I numbly removed it and tossed it into the trash can next to the toilet, along with the body sponge he’d used, and the plain black razor he kept in there.

  I wanted to smile at my bravery but I just couldn’t. I felt nothing, which was better than feeling like I might break apart and shatter into a thousand pieces. The only thing that made me happy was that I had been so courageous today. Adria would be proud of me. Reaching over and flipping on the small shower radio I kept in there, I stepped under the hot water and let it wash over me, determined that I needed a fresh start. But when Adele’s Hello started to play, all my bravery suddenly dissolved and I began to again sob that I wouldn’t ever hear Keith’s voice tell me hello from the other side.

  Downstairs, perched in front of the TV with my Cherry Garcia tub of ice cream, I stared at the TV. There was nothing on. My mind kept wandering back to the bedroom and I thought maybe I should try sleeping in the bed. Admittedly, my back and neck had been aching throughout the day, and while I knew it wasn’t because of anything like excessive weight gain (I was too thin, if I was honest with myself), I knew it had to be this damn sofa.

  With the spoon upside down, I licked the last of the pink ice cream off of it, and got up. Chucking it into the sink, I found the lid to the ice cream and replaced it in the freezer.

  I spied my cell phone sitting on the counter, and I again picked it up and dialed my voicemail. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I just wanted to hear his voice one more time, then I’ll delete this voicemail, the last one he ever left me when he arrived in the place that ultimately took him from me…

  “Hi, babe. Just got here and wanted to check in. I will try to call you later. I love you and miss you already, baby. Talk to you soon.”

  With my finger hovering over the 7 to delete it, I just couldn’t. With a defeated sigh, I hit 9 to save it and ended the call, then wiped a tear from my cheek.

  I set the phone down and then peeked around the corner to the staircase that would lead me to the upstairs bedroom.

  It’s just a bed, Harper. Stop being a drama queen.

  The words rolled around in my mind. I knew my subconscious was right and my heart was wrong but I wanted to wallow. I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to wallow in my grief and misery, but maybe I felt comfortable here in Wallowville.

  Yes, I’ll sleep in our bed tonight. Not our bed, my bed. My big, lonely bed. I loved sharing a bed with someone. As soon as the thought entered my mind, Mason Oliver’s beautiful face popped into it. Do I want Mason in my bed? Yes. Is it wrong to want him there? Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. He’s so sexy, and tough, and possessive, and smart. Immediately, my mind was flooded with thoughts about how wrong it was to lust over another man.

  But was I lusting over him? Sure, the misty memories of his hands on my body, on my face, kissing me in that parking lot of the taco place were still there. The way I had loved the feel of their warmth and possessiveness, the way his hand had controlled my backside as he’d kissed me. The strong determination he seemed to have when he’d visited me at my office, assuring me that they would find whoever had violated my precious company. And honestly? I felt assured that Mason would find whoever had vandalized and stolen from Mathis Associates.

  I had felt both violated and devastated the morning I had come to work and found that my company had been stolen from. It hurt me down to the embers of my soul to know that a monster so heartless could steal from a nonprofit. All I ever wanted to do – all Keith and I had ever wanted – was to help veterans to get back into society and reintegrate and feel normal and contributory. But some selfish criminal piece of trash had violated that. I was angry, but felt helpless to do anything about it. Dealing with grief and trying to keep my head and my company above water was a strange thing. I was angry at the vandalism, but then I couldn’t muster up enough anger, rage, or energy to do anything about it. If I was honest, I was completely relying on Detective Mason to do all the dirty work.

  Wasn’t that his job, though? Find the bad guys and bring them to justice? Put the perpetrators in jail and let people sleep well at night? Yes, it was. I had enough to juggle throughout the day – this business I ran to keep my brain occupied and my heart free of guilt and grief was what I clung to on a daily basis. But a small part of me thought he would do it because he cared about me – that he cared about veterans in need – to put some extra work into finding whoever had done this. At least I hoped so, anyway.

  Glancing at the staircase once again, I took a deep breath and put my right foot on the first stair.

  Instead of being emotional and dramatic, I just sprinted up the steps. I walked woodenly into the b
edroom and flung off first my shirt, then my bra. My yoga pants came off lastly and pooled at my feet. I opened the drawer to my T-shirts and put on my oversized New Orleans Saints tee and briefly glanced at my reflection in the mirror attached to the dresser. I still had the dark circles, but the sadness that seemed to cover my entire being seemed to have lifted a little now. I turned around and slowly walked toward my side of the bed.

  The bed was calling to me. I was so tired, exhausted really, and I longed to go lie down in my favorite spot. I slowly made my way around the bed and pushed back the covers. Then I slipped in, and the sheets felt cool and inviting against my skin.

  Groaning at the feel of the soft pillow and sheets, I pulled the covers over me and lay on my side. The moonlight shining in through the window shed plenty of light into the room for me to see Keith’s cold, empty side. I rolled over and faced the window so I wouldn’t have to gaze at it. I was meant to be turning over a new leaf and dwelling on the emptiness that had been left for me was not healthy. I was tired but my brain wouldn’t shut off. I stared out the window of the top floor off this townhouse and watched the sparse white clouds as they played in and out of the moon’s reflection. I was just glad it wasn’t raining. I couldn’t do this if it had been dark and gloomy outside.

  I bit my lip to stay the sob that wanted to rip out of me. No more crying, Harper. He wouldn’t have wanted this. Keith always wanted me to be happy; it’s what he had told me over and over. I decided that shifting my thoughts would be the only thing that would keep me sane.

  My mind drifted to Mason again. Those mysterious, flirtatious eyes. The commanding attitude and the confidence of his stare. The hard body he was rocking under that dress shirt and tie. The way his lips felt soft as if in contrast to the hard edge to his personality. The way they made my body suddenly feel like it was reigniting again after being burned to ashes. My fingers found their way to my lips and I gently touched them, softly running my index finger over my bottom lip as I thought about Mason. Thought about his kiss.