by Lacey Thorn
Table of Contents
Jagged Hearts A Knight’s Watch Story
Jagged Hearts Copyright © 2015, Lacey Thorn Published by Lacey Thorn Publishing
Five Years Ago: Brutal Attack Rocks Entertainment Industry
This one is for all those who encouraged me to try something new and helped me with the million questions I asked along the way! Thanks for being my friends and confidants and for always wishing me success!
Prologue
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
About the Author
Dear Readers,
Also by Lacey Thorn
Jagged Hearts
A Knight’s Watch Story
By Lacey Thorn
Jagged Hearts
Copyright © 2015, Lacey Thorn
Published by Lacey Thorn Publishing
Edited by Michele Paulin and Liza Green for RP Indie
Cover Art by Those Girls Designs
Formatting by RPIndie
Electronic format ISBN: 978-0-9963032-0-0
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic Release: April 2015
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Five Years Ago: Brutal Attack Rocks Entertainment Industry
Paisley Ames can’t escape the headline splashed across every news outlet, a vivid reminder of the tragedy that changed her life and still haunts her. Despite the passage of time, she can’t heal. She can’t let in the man who might show her how to live again.
Barrett “Bare” Locke took one look at Jamison Knight’s daughter and saw a survivor. A woman, fierce and strong. Too bad she doesn’t see it. He understands what it is to lose someone you love. If Paisley will give him the chance, he’ll show her how to heal the jagged pieces of her broken heart.
But someone doesn’t want Paisley to heal. They want her to remember…until they decide it’s time for her to die.
This one is for all those who encouraged me to try something new and helped me with the million questions I asked along the way! Thanks for being my friends and confidants and for always wishing me success!
Prologue
“I’m pregnant.”
Paisley held her breath as she waited for Lance’s reaction. She’d been a wreck since she’d taken the first of the three tests she’d purchased at an out of the way market where no one would recognize her. She’d taken the other two just to be sure. All positive. She was pregnant.
She’d been nervously prowling around the house, waiting for Lance to get home so she could tell him. Would her fiancé be happy about starting a family sooner than they’d planned? Or would it upset him that her career would be put on temporary hiatus? After all, he’d asked the star of one of television’s most popular shows to marry him. Would he still love her if she wasn’t that woman anymore?
“Pregnant?”
Lance’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed again and again. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no other words made it past his lips. He made a choked sound in his throat, and Paisley forced her spine straight. She would not cry. Then he let out a whoop and crushed her against his chest.
“A baby!” He yelled the words, whooping again.
His excitement loosened her control, and she burst into tears. Lance released her and tugged her hand, leading them both to the couch. He sat and pulled her onto his lap.
“What’s wrong, Pais?” he murmured, wiping at her tears with his fingers. “This is great news,” he said, but the look on his face let her know he was asking as well as telling her how he felt.
She nodded. “It’s…it’s…great…news,” she managed to reply between hiccupping sobs.
Lance smiled, and once again, she was struck by how lucky she was to have this gorgeous, intelligent man love her. She’d worried about dating another actor, but Lance had assured her it just meant they’d both be more understanding of schedules and events. And he loved her, really loved her.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. “Is it because you’re so young? I know we didn’t plan this. I know you’re only twenty-one, but you’re going to make such a great mom.”
She shook her head.
“You will. I know you love kids. Hell, you’re always volunteering your time with children’s charities. It’s one of the things that makes you you.”
“I want to be a mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” she confessed. “But… I’ll have to leave the show. They won’t write this in, and I wouldn’t want them to. I play a sixteen year old on television. Fans won’t care that I’m an adult. I won’t be able to work.”
“And you think I’ll be upset by that?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded.
“Don’t do that.” He smoothed his thumb over her lip, freeing it from the grip of her teeth. “I love you, baby. You. You’ve been unhappy with the show for a while now. Maybe, this is divine intervention helping you make the decision to finally leave. Do it,” he urged. “Take a break from acting, and raise a baby with me.”
She smiled and more tears fell.
“Happy tears?” he asked.
She nodded. “I love you.”
He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. “I love you.”
They sat for a few minutes, just holding onto each other. He used one hand to stroke up and down her spine while the other pressed her belly where new life was already forming. She was completely relaxed in his arms, and he almost dislodged her when he sat straight up.
“Marry me,” he said.
She laughed and wiggled the ring finger on her left hand at him. “Already said yes.”
He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “Right now. Let’s not wait for the wedding your mom’s reluctantly planning. Let’s go to Vegas. We can be married in less than twenty-four hours.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Marry me.”
“My mom will kill us both.”
“You forget I know you better than anyone. You hate your mom. I hate your mom. Since you were born, she’s made your life hell with her pushing you to do this or to be that. I know acting was never your dream. Let’s do this for us.”
Lance was right. Her mother had made her life a living hell and still did her best to control her only child. She was great at planning public appearances for Paisley and conveniently not telling her until as close to the last minute as possible. That way, if Paisley canceled, it reflected poorly on her. Paisley hadn’t wanted this life, but it was hers. She’d be damned if Vivian made her look unreliable and flighty. She was always jumping through hoops for Vivian, or at least, she had been.
Then she’d met Lance McIntire at an industry party when she was twenty, and she’d fallen in love with him. She’d known he was the one from the first hello, from the way his brown eyes had gone gooey and his mouth had sensually curved up into a smile that had her heart playing a staccato beat in her chest. He’d taught her how to handle Vivian better and even pushed Paisley to hire a fulltime agent to replace her mother and an a
ccountant, who would see to her interests and not just Vivian’s. Needless to say, her mother hated Lance.
“She expects a lavish wedding with lots of media coverage,” Paisley reminded him.
“And she’ll still have it,” he assured her. “On the date she picked, in the church she selected, with all the things she wanted. But we’ll already be married, in a very private ceremony just for the two of us.”
She knew he could see how much she wanted to say yes and wasn’t surprised when he grinned.
“You want to. I know you do,” he challenged.
She sat for a minute. Her mother would be pissed when she found out, and there was no doubt that Vivian Ames would find out. Paisley’s mom had spies everywhere.
“Let’s do it,” she agreed with a nod.
“Seriously?” Lance asked, and she nodded again. He grabbed her face and kissed her. It was one of what she called The Lance Specials, a kiss that engaged every nerve in her body and left her panting for so much more.
She couldn’t disguise her moan when he shifted her off his lap and stood. He laughed as he came to his feet, adjusting his fly which did little to hide the erection he sported. She traced a finger over the bulge in his slacks.
“Stop that,” he said and stepped back with a grin. “The next time I make love, it will be to my wife,” he vowed then held a hand out to her, helping her stand. “Now, go pack. I’ll make some calls. Book a flight and room, get things all set. I’ll have our agent take care of booking everything. She’ll make sure your mom can’t track us.”
“If anyone knows how to put Vivian in her place, it’s Andromeda,” Paisley said. “Just in case anything leaks, make sure she knows to say no comment.”
He nodded. “I will, but you know she’ll do what’s needed to keep it from leaking. Besides, the last thing you need is your mom on the warpath because we ruined her big day.”
The fact Lance referred to their wedding as Vivian’s big day wasn’t lost on Paisley. “What should we wear for a Vegas wedding?” she asked instead of commenting.
“We’ll save the tux and gown for your mom’s shindig,” Lance said. “Throw whatever you want us to wear in the suitcase. We can be as casual or dressy as we want. You get to decide. Don’t worry about packing much else. I’m thinking we’ll spend the rest of the time in our room, making love.”
She leaned into him, arms going around his neck as their eyes met. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” he whispered back.
She might have convinced him to make love then, but the doorbell rang, interrupting.
“Expecting anyone?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Go on up then,” he urged. “I’ll get rid of them then call Andromeda.”
She nodded, placed a quick kiss on his lips then went upstairs, practically flying up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. She walked into the deep closet and pulled out a case, before glancing around at their casual clothes. They both had to be on set Monday morning, so it would have to be a quick weekend trip. She’d need to have Andromeda arrange a meeting so she could let the studio know she was pregnant and wouldn’t be signing on for the next season. Her contract was up at the end of this one anyway, which was just a few episodes from ending. Lance was right, she’d already been thinking of leaving. Acting was her mother’s dream, not hers.
She dropped her hands to her belly and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and feeling as if it was her heart expanding.
“Your daddy and I are so happy you’re here. I want you to know we love you. We will always love you. And you can be anything you want to be. We just want you to be happy.”
Those were the words she wished her mother had said to her. But Vivian didn’t do love. She did guilt, and she did lies. And control. Vivian was good at making everyone think she was still in charge of Paisley’s life, especially Paisley. Vivian Ames seemed as if she lived to tell Paisley everything she was doing wrong and how she could do better. Lance was right. She needed to cut the ties with her mother completely. Even now, she was letting Vivian plan the wedding of the century when it was the last thing Paisley and Lance wanted.
She dropped her hands to her stomach again. She wouldn’t let Vivian poison the life of her child. She could already hear the venomous words her mother would say when she found out Paisley was pregnant. In that moment, Paisley knew she needed to be done. She would be a wife and mother. And maybe, she’d try her hand at writing as she’d always dreamed she would. One thing was certain. Lance would love and support her no matter what choice she made. He’d already proven that.
A crash downstairs jarred Paisley from her thoughts. She padded from the closet and listened. She didn’t hear anything, but she headed across the bedroom anyway. She needed to know which shoes Lance wanted her to pack for him.
“Lance?” she called, walking to the door.
No reply. She headed toward the stairs then screamed as she took in the figure on the stairs that was definitely not Lance. The person was dressed all in black with a ski mask pulled over his head. But it was the very large knife wielded in one hand that grabbed her attention—large and covered in blood.
“No! No! No!” She denied the possibilities filling her head as she backpedaled toward the bedroom. She didn’t want to turn her back on the figure stalking her. Where was Lance? Oh, my God! Where was Lance?
The figure stalked her, and she heard his labored breath as he moved closer. She’d never have time to close the bedroom door, but if she shoved it and turned to run for the closet, she might be able to lock herself in there.
She shoved as soon as she stepped inside, pivoted on one foot and took off only to have her hair snagged from behind. Her scalp felt as if it were on fire as her assailant hauled her back and flung her to the floor. Air whooshed from her lungs as she hit, and she felt her wrist snap as she threw one hand back to brace from the fall.
She cried out, automatically pulling her arm to her chest as pain exploded. That was the least of her worries though as the figure landed on her, knees bracing beside her hips as he used his weight to hold her legs down. She’d never forget those eyes, black and empty, as if there was no one behind the mask.
“Please,” she pleaded, bucking uselessly under him and using one hand to shove at his immovable bulk.
The knife lifted, but it wasn’t her life flashing before her eyes. It was the life she could have had. It was Lance and marriage and children and the years of happiness she was being robbed of. Fire burned in her belly as the first plunge struck deep.
“No!” The denial screamed from her throat as the blade stabbed her flesh again and again, every stroke centered on her stomach, her womb, her child. Fiery pain bled into numbness as she lay there, unable to budge.
He shifted and stood, looming over her, a shrouded figure who’d stolen everything that mattered to her. She blinked, her eyes growing heavy. She should fight. She should try to hold on, to stay awake, but there was nothing left inside her. Instead, she closed her eyes and prayed to die.
* * * *
She woke briefly to hear voices. Her mother and someone saying something about minimal scarring. Vivian wouldn’t like that. Scarring? From what?
The next time Paisley blinked open her heavy lids, there were other voices, masculine voices, and one of them brought tears to her eyes. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him.
“Daddy,” she whispered through dry lips.
He was beside the bed before she’d finished calling his name.
“I’m here, princess. I’m here,” he promised, leaning close so she felt his breath on her cheek.
“Don’t leave.” She forced out the words.
“Not without you,” he said.
“Lance?” she asked.
“Rest, honey,” he whispered. “You need to rest. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She blinked, struggling to grasp something she knew was important, but it faded as sleep tugged her int
o oblivion again.
The next time she awoke, memory returned like the wicked blade of another knife, this one aimed at her heart. She felt the tears before she forced her eyes open. There was a stranger in the chair beside the bed. As she turned to look at him, he leaned forward and placed his hands softly beside her on the bed. Blue eyes. He had blue eyes filled with life, and it calmed her racing heart.
“Where’s my dad?” she asked.
“Making arrangements to take you home.”
She closed her eyes and let more tears fall. Home. It was exactly where she wanted to go, where she needed to go. She wanted to be as far away from LA and this waking nightmare as she could get.
“My mother?”
She swore she saw his lips tighten before he relaxed his jaw enough to answer.
“She’s around somewhere.”
Paisley swallowed, trying to hold back her sobs.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Barrett, Bare to my friends. I work for your dad. He asked me to stay with you. He didn’t want you to wake up and be afraid.”
She took in Bare. He was big, muscled and tough looking with his shaggy hair, scruffy beard and numerous tattoos peeking out from under his collar and sleeves. He would definitely stop anyone from getting to her in here, and she had little doubt that was why her dad had asked him to stay.
She moved her hands, one weighed down by an IV and the other by a cast, and cradled them both over her stomach.
“The baby?” She knew the answer before he shook his head softly. There was sadness in his eyes and maybe a sheen of tears. Or maybe those were in her eyes.
“Lance?”
Another brief movement of his head destroyed her world. She braced, fighting the surge of emotion, desperate to hold the jagged pieces of her soul together. Then he moved, standing and sitting beside her on the bed.
“There’s no weakness in tears,” he whispered to her. “Let it out. Let it all out.”