Shatter Me

by Tori St. Claire

  At the conflicting thought, she drew in an uneasy breath and tugged her navy blue cardigan around her shoulders more securely. She’d given in to wearing the damn halter top, but now she second-guessed that decision. Though her back remained covered, she felt exposed.

  She closed her eyes, mentally reciting all the reasons she’d let herself be lured out of her protective shell. Alex had proven he wasn’t Drew. He’d apologized. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d make decisions for her, wouldn’t ever try to control her or assume what she needed. She’d worn the damn top as a means of showing she really forgave him, but that didn’t mean she had to take the sweater off.

  His hand brushed her thigh, just beneath the hem of her short denim shorts. “You’ll like Diane, Luke, and Mom.”

  From the stories about his childhood and his polar-opposite brother, she had no doubt she would. She honestly couldn’t wait to meet his brother. His sister’s insatiable curiosity, though, stretched her nerves. Reagan only hoped Diane wouldn’t start asking questions about why she’d worn a sweater when the temperature pushed ninety.

  She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t come across strained. “Lead the way.” Beyond the tall grasses of the picnic shelter, the lake glistened invitingly.

  He let himself out and came around to her side before she could open the door all the way. He propped it open with one hand, extending the other for hers. Reagan slipped her fingers into his palm, and a sense of confidence, of rightness stole over her. Trepidation vanished as she stepped onto the gravel parking lot. She was with Alex, where she’d always longed to be. Meeting his family—people whom she felt she already knew after all the tales he’d told through the years. Last night, they’d tackled a hurdle and overcome it. She was ready for this.

  She wanted to be here more than anything.

  Clasping his hand more securely, she gave him a genuine grin and rose on tiptoe to brush a kiss across his mouth. He didn’t hesitate to welcome her advance. Curving his hand around the small of her back, he bent her closer, tugged her lower lip between his teeth, and drew her into a tantalizing kiss. A kiss that proved to her he’d somehow come to terms with the ghost of their shared past. And proved it to his family.

  When he released her mouth, he held her close a moment longer. His gaze held hers, conveying words she couldn’t quite decipher, but she understood the broader meaning. Affection glinted there. No, more than affection. Something…deeper.

  “Let’s eat,” he whispered as he stepped back and away.

  Still holding fast to her hand, he led her around the front of the pickup and to a shelter tucked beneath tall shade trees. Children’s laughter echoed on the gentle breeze. At least three dozen people milled around the wooden tables, paper plates of food already in hand.

  Reagan identified Diane instantly—her spiky platinum hair gave her away. Alex had made it sound over-the-top, but the style held class and taste. The way she rushed toward her brother, a grin stretching from ear to ear, hinted at her friendliness.

  “Reagan,” she cried, arms outstretched. “Oh my God, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many stories over the years. Of you. Of Drew.” Diane dragged her into a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.”

  Sorry? Reagan fumbled for a response. Had Diane not seen the way she’d just been kissing Alex? There was nothing to be remotely sorry for.

  She finally found her tongue, and as she backed out of the hug managed a polite, “Thank you.” Maybe she’d been too far away to observe the kiss.

  The way Diane met Alex’s gaze and her smile turned smug, however, suggested she knew every detail. Reagan’s nerves twisted her belly into knots all over again. Would his family think it was too soon? Would they question whether Alex and she had ever been more than friends?

  “Alex!”

  She pushed the worries aside as another voice carried to where they stood. A voice she recognized.

  She swung around to find Jacob standing beneath the edge of the shelter roof, waving Alex down. What was he doing here?

  Diane kissed Alex’s cheek. “Happy birthday, little man.”

  He returned her gesture of sibling affection with a one-armed hug. “Thanks.” He paused, then added, “For everything.”

  Jacob hustled over, clasped Alex’s hand, and pumped it enthusiastically. “Man, what an awesome idea. No one hardly spoke at the funeral. Everyone’s telling stories, laughing—it’s what Drew would have wanted.”

  Drew. Funeral. A chill stole down Reagan’s spine. She looked beyond Alex to the people gathered under and around the shelter. Don from the hardware store. A handful of other vets sitting in the far corner. Other faces she recognized—friends of Drew’s. Chance. Desi.

  As her gaze fell on her friend, Desi shoved off a bench seat and rushed across the short distance of grass. Spots of crimson flushed her cheeks, and her eyes flashed with anger. She wedged herself between Reagan and Alex and gave him a scathing glare. Then she turned to Reagan, and her expression twisted with concern. “Are you okay? I only heard about it this morning. I called to warn you, but your cell phone’s off.”

  Behind her, Chance approached at a more cautious speed, his gaze narrowed and assessing. The tight downturn of his mouth hinted at tightly controlled anger.

  “What’s going on, Desi?” Reagan asked, looking over her shoulder at Alex, asking him more than her. Instinct told her she already knew.

  His grin slipped. A tight frown pursed his lips.

  Desi spun on him, her voice sharp and incredulous. “You didn’t warn her? Can you be any more insensitive?”

  “Warn me about what?”

  “Damn it,” Desi muttered before she set both hands on Reagan’s shoulders and regret washed across her face. “This isn’t a birthday party, sweetie. Alex and his sister put together a commemoration for Drew.” Once more, she glared at Alex, then at Diane. “Evidently without telling you. Half of Colton is here, and so is—”

  Shelley.

  Reagan’s gaze locked on a lithe brunette standing at the edge of the refreshment table. She held a plastic cup in her hand and stared, expression full of loathing, at where Reagan and Alex stood. Reagan didn’t need anyone to tell her—Shelley had most definitely witnessed that kiss.

  The ground beneath Reagan’s feet felt unsteady as the deeper meaning of Desi’s explanation sank home. Alex had coordinated this. For almost a full week, she’d done everything she could to drive the point home she didn’t care to discuss Drew. Yet he’d gone behind her back and planned this little event, dragging her along as if he presumed she’d be elated.

  Unable to believe what she was hearing, Reagan turned imploring eyes on him. “Tell me she’s not right. Tell me you didn’t do this.”

  Diane rushed to answer, even as Alex’s expression tightened. “You’ve been dealing with so much, Reagan, Alex thought you’d enjoy the chance to reconnect with friends. He said you were so sad that you’d lost touch with Shelley, and he asked me to invite her to his birthday party. After talking to her and Jacob, everything took a different angle.”

  So, Alex had his sister contact Shelley. In the back of her mind, Reagan knew she shouldn’t be angry with him—he had no way of knowing what Drew’s sister had put her through. That she’d be more than content to never see the woman again. But no amount of logic could override the deep-rooted fury, the utter sense of betrayal that swirled in her gut. She twisted her hand free from his and stalked away.

  To go where? She couldn’t run. She couldn’t hide in his pickup. His entire family was here, along with too many other people. Four steps from where she’d been standing, she stopped.

  Desi and Chance appeared at her side. Her hand slipped around Reagan’s elbow, and she slowly turned Reagan to face her. Chance rested a heavy, encouraging hand on Reagan’s opposite shoulder.

  “I found out literally right before we left,” Desi said. “Diane called Chance this morning while I was at the store. He didn’t know what to do, so
he said we’d come.”

  “We weren’t conspiring against you,” Chance added with a squeeze of his fingers. “We’re in your corner, kid.”

  Reagan inhaled long and slow. Lifting her shoulders, she steeled her spine and sighed. “I know.”

  “If you want to go home, we’ll take you.” Desi’s rich brown eyes filled with sympathy. “But I know you can make it through this, if you want to stay.”

  “I know that, too,” Reagan murmured.

  Why had Alex done this? Her gaze tracked back to him, and she took in the hurt that pulled at the corners of his eyes. He thought he’d done something to make her happy—and that was the crux of it all. Once again, he’d made decisions on her behalf, acted as if he knew what was best for her. Even after this morning, when he’d promised not to do so again.

  Alex was more like Drew than Reagan cared to admit. And she should have seen it all along.

  “I’m not running away.” With a disparaging shake of her head, she stalked toward the refreshment table, hoping someone had at least thought to bring beer. But instead, all she found was iced tea, soda of all different flavors, and water. She yanked a cup off the stack and filled it with grape soda, then chugged it like a bottle of pale ale. She’d smile and say all the appropriate things people expected—she would not hide. But when it was over, when Alex had taken her back home, there would be no misunderstandings between them. She’d tell him Drew’s true character, right as she told him to get the hell out.

  For now, she had a role to play. One she knew all too well. A few more hours of keeping Drew’s secrets, because some small part of her respected the soldier. Then she would finally be free.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “She’s something, Alex. Strong. Easy on the eyes. What’s she see in you?”

  The sound of his brother’s voice rumbling near his shoulder startled Alex. He turned to face Luke, struggling to hide the fact that he’d been staring off where Reagan sat near the lake with his sister’s twin girls and her son. With a forced chuckle, he gave his older brother a noncommittal shrug. “She knows a good thing when she sees it.”

  Luke’s mouth twisted with a smirk. “Smart-ass.”

  Yeah, he was. At the moment, though, he needed the confidence that came with brotherly banter. Something was off with her. Sure, she smiled and carried on polite conversation, acted every bit as friendly as he remembered her. But chilly distance clouded her eyes. She hardly had three words to say to him directly, though she stayed at his side as if she belonged there.

  Just like she used to be.

  And that was the bitch of it—she was exactly the Reagan he remembered from barbecues with Drew. Not the Reagan he’d discovered this past week at her home. So why the hell did the woman he watched now feel like a stranger?

  Because of this party. Because he’d forced her to confront Drew.

  Annoyance flickered all over again. Couldn’t she see that locking it away wasn’t healthy? All the people here today had shed tears—himself included—but they weren’t the bitter kind. Reagan, alone, remained dry-eyed. Like she didn’t even care.

  Hell, she hadn’t even spoken to Shelley once.

  His gaze pulled back to her in time to see her throw her head back in laughter, and then tackle the eight-year-old Benjamin. He went down squealing and squirming in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Damn, she was even playing like nothing else occurred around her.

  “She’s not just Drew’s widow, is she?”

  Luke assessed Alex with a cool blue stare. When Alex didn’t flinch, his brother’s gaze narrowed.

  Ugh. Alex nearly groaned aloud. He choked the rising sound down before it could escape and huffed a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

  Frowning, he looked back at Reagan. Behind her, the sun rode low on the water, casting bronze color over the grassy area. The sunlight danced off her hair, making it shine like spun gold. Her skin held a warm glow that gave her an ethereal appearance, and there was something so compelling about the way she interacted with his nieces and nephew that Alex’s heart swelled painfully. All four sat on the green grass, hands propped behind their backs and staring up at an orange-and-lavender sky, occasionally pointing at big fluffy clouds.

  Falsely oblivious. His heart twisted at the picture she presented. A contrast of warmth and coldness. Distance and closeness. How could she pretend so easily?

  Or could it be possible she really didn’t care?

  That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. She should care. Drew had been her husband. He’d worshipped the ground she walked on. To be so…ambivalent after his death…

  “Hey, Alex,” a soft, feminine voice called from behind.

  Luke stepped back as Shelley approached.

  Her soft brown eyes offered sympathy. She set a hand on his arm and maneuvered even closer, silently, yet deliberately, pushing his brother further aside. “How are you doing? I should have called.” Shelley blew out a sigh. “It’s just…”

  “Hard,” he finished for her. “I should have called, too. I get it.”

  Nodding, she folded her arms over her breasts and gazed out at the water, in the general direction where Reagan romped with the kids.

  Alex looked after her, heaviness settling on his shoulders. “I don’t understand, Shelley. Reagan acts like nothing happened. She doesn’t even want to talk about Drew. I thought she’d be happy to see you, and she hasn’t even said hello, has she?”

  “No, and she won’t.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “She’s unstable.” Turning to face him, she leveled him with a hard frown. “Drew had to lock her out of their finances. She spends like it’s water. When he did that, she made up all kinds of terrible things about him.”

  Shock jammed a fist in Alex’s gut. Reagan? Mentally unstable? Drew hadn’t been joking all along with his remarks on finances. Her reaction, when Alex handed her his credit card, suddenly made more sense. Along with the weirdness at the ice cream shop. But still—unstable? Making up things about Drew? He squinted at Shelley. “What kind of things?”

  …

  Reagan snagged Benjamin around the waist as he darted past. His laughter rang with hers, lightening the dark cloud around her spirits. All afternoon, she’d heard nothing but praise for Drew, and it required every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep her tongue in check and smile and nod politely. Escape came with the children.

  She used Benjamin’s imprisoned state to her advantage and tickled his ribs. He squealed and twisted until he hung half sideways in the air. His sisters broke into laughter as he flailed, trying to escape Reagan’s deft fingers.

  As the twins giggled gleefully and swept in on the fun, Reagan rocked back on her heels. Her gaze locked on Alex, and she bristled. He stood beside Shelley, his brother only a few paces behind. No doubt recounting Drew’s successes on the battlefield or his medals again. Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t take much more hero worship.

  Best not to leave them alone, though. Knowing Alex, he’d ask some question Shelley would be more than happy to twist.

  Standing, Reagan dusted the sand off her hands and inclined her head toward their mother. “Kids, why don’t you three go on back. I need to talk to your uncle for a bit.”

  She drew in a deep breath and started toward Alex, doing her best to appear nonchalant. He’d turned once again, as had Shelley, and their backs were to her. His brother listened raptly, his line of sight to Reagan blocked by Alex’s broad shoulders.

  Reagan stopped five feet away as Shelley’s words reached her ears.

  “Yes, really. I couldn’t believe it. She called me with something so preposterous. Drew would never hit a woman.”

  Reagan’s mouth dropped open. Shelley had told Alex? She blinked. In a hundred years, she never would have believed the woman would spill those secrets in public. Or even semipublic.

  “That’s nuts,” Alex muttered. “He saved puppies. He’d no more hit Reagan than he would
skin a cat.”

  “Exactly,” Shelley continued, nodding. “He adored her. When I told him, he explained her father was an abuser and she, well, it affected her. She used it as an excuse for pity—to get what she wanted.”

  Stunned to the depths of her being, Reagan stared wide-eyed. To get what she wanted. Oh, fucking hell, no. Judging from the astonishment written all over Alex’s face, he was buying into her ridiculous story as well. Fury surged through her veins. She might not have told him Drew’s dark habits, but she’d given him no reason to doubt her mental stability. Yet there he stood, shaking his head in that flabbergasted way that said he refused to even entertain the possibility his best friend might have been an abuser.

  Damn him. Damn her. She’d had enough of being targeted. Of being discounted. She’d suffered Shelley’s humiliation once before. She would not do so again. Drew’s secrets weren’t sacred. Not anymore. She stalked forward, driven by sheer rage.

  “Is that so, Shelley?” she called out, scathingly. “I made it up?”

  “Reagan,” Alex said slowly.

  She whirled on him. “Don’t you dare Reagan me. You want the damned truth? I’ll show you the truth!” Before she fully realized what she was doing, she jerked her sweater off, threw it on the ground, and presented her back.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alex stared, temporarily robbed of thought by the silvery-gray scars covering Reagan’s back. Tiny horseshoe-shaped imprints marred her fair skin from her shoulder blades to the base of her spine. A faint few still held a pinkish hue. It almost looked like she’d fallen off a motorcycle and ended up with a bad case of road rash. Almost. But those little horseshoe shapes looked more familiar. Something he recognized but couldn’t place. Definitely not rocks, though.