All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3)

by Anna Paige

  Then he left without another word.

  And I just sat there on his oversize bed with the smell of his cologne still lingering all around me, wondering what the hell to do.

  •••

  Eventually, I gathered my wits enough to dress and splash some cool water on my face before making my way downstairs to thank Spencer and Talia for their help.

  When I got to the living room, Brant and Talia were hovering over Spencer’s shoulder as he sat at the table and typed on his laptop.

  “Hi, guys.” I called, trying to sound cheerful despite the realization that they knew about Isaac now, and had probably gleaned enough of my history to make me cringe.

  “Lauren!” Talia turned and smiled, her protruding belly poking me as she pulled me in for a hug. “You okay, girl? You want me to make you some tea or something?”

  “Already on it.” Brant said, turning toward the kitchen.

  “I’m fine, really. Don’t fuss over me.” I caught Brant’s eye and he gave me a wink as he continued doing exactly what I just told him not to. Stubborn ass.

  “Make enough for Talia, will you? Something that will slow her ass down, if you have it.” Spencer called, shooting me an amused look when Talia groaned at his jab. His forehead wrinkled and he amended. “But nothing that will hurt the baby.”

  “So, no bourbon or Xanax for Talia… got it.” Brant tossed out.

  Spencer rolled his eyes and patted the chair beside him, beckoning me to sit. “If you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you some questions about this Isaac guy.”

  Talia spoke up when she saw my expression. “She doesn’t have to do that now, Spencer. Give her time.”

  “No.” I shook my head, taking the proffered seat alongside him. “I’m fine. And if you’re trying to help, the least I can do is be forthcoming, right?”

  Spencer just gave me a patient smile and waited for me to start. After a moment, during which I was mustering my courage, I felt Brant’s hands on my shoulders offering silent support.

  Talia took the seat across from us, scooting it back a ways to allow for her expanding baby bump.

  No one spoke, no one rushed me. They let me get my bearings and then before I knew it, I was talking. “Isaac’s last name is Davis. He’s in his early fifties by now, I guess. From Portsmouth, Virginia originally. He was released from prison two years ago, right around the time I moved here. Actually, his release was why I moved to Denson. I didn’t want him to find me, though Teach always said there was no reason for him to seek me out. I knew better. That’s why I came way out here to live with Teach. I was hiding.”

  Spencer nodded. “That explains the odd things I found on your social media pages last year.”

  “Yeah.” I looked away. Focusing on the glossy tabletop so I didn’t have to face them. “All my pages say I live in Colorado. No one from Denson is on any of my pages, I’m vigilant about that. And I ‘check in’ at random places on the west coast every now and then to make it seem like I really do live there. I even stage pictures so it looks like I’m out partying and doing drugs because no one who knows Teach would think he would have anything to do with me after seeing something like that.”

  “So you were protecting him too by making it seem like you and he were estranged.” Spencer sounded impressed. “Good technique.” He hesitated a minute. “Will you look at me, Lauren?” His voice was kind, compassionate, so I did. “Stop closing yourself off every time you’re reminded of last year, okay? We’re all here for you now, remember? We understand and we want to help. All of us.”

  Talia caught my eye and nodded.

  Brant squeezed my shoulders reassuringly.

  So, I took a deep breath and continued, knowing the worst was yet to come. “When Isaac came into the diner, he wanted money. He gloated that Teach died and said he was considering finding out where he was buried so he could piss on his grave. Then he told me he knew I had money from my inheritance and he was here to collect. Said I owed him for ruining his life.” I choked back the sob that was caught in my throat and pressed on. “He said knowing he wrecked my…” I stopped, needing to force air into my lungs. “Knowing I was damaged forever wasn’t reward enough. He wanted to be paid for his suffering.”

  Brant’s hands were suddenly gone from my shoulders and I flinched at the sound of his fist hitting the wall behind us. “Son of a fucking bitch! I’ll fucking kill him. So help me God…”

  Talia sprung from her chair and went to Brant, muttering to him so low that I couldn’t hear what she said. Spencer just held my gaze and reached for my hand across the table, silent.

  Might as well get the rest out and be done with it.

  “Before he left, he told me my mom committed suicide a few years back. Because of me. Because she couldn’t make it without him and she died blaming me because I had him taken away from her.” I wanted to cry, to mourn my mother. But I couldn’t. She had been dead to me since she let him do those things to me, since she looked into my tear-streaked face and told me it couldn’t be that bad. Since she sent a note to me that had nearly caused me to end it all.

  I felt no loss.

  And that broke my heart. One more broken piece to add to the pile, one more jagged chip of my heart that I’d never get back.

  Spencer looked over my shoulder at Brant and Talia, then met my eye. “You didn’t know she died?”

  I shook my head. “I hadn’t heard from her since the day the police came and took me away. She sent a note once but it wasn’t what you’d call warm and fuzzy. I know Isaac told the truth, though. She blamed me. Hated me.”

  Why was my voice so thready? I didn’t feel anything for the woman, so why did it matter what she thought of me?

  “He was in prison for fifteen years?” Spencer was typing now, one-handed as his other hand was gripping mine.

  “Yeah.”

  “Child abuse, I assume.” His tone was hesitant, like he didn’t want to pry but needed to know for investigative purposes.

  “Child sexual assault. Child sexual battery. Malicious wounding. There were other charges but I don’t remember them all. Someone talked to me in the hospital and told me all the names for the charges but I didn’t really understand.” I dropped my head, refocusing on the table. “I was eleven.”

  Spencer stopped typing. His eyes fell to the keyboard and I could see his jaw working, clenching and grinding. Brant still hadn’t come back over and I hated how much that hurt. I wanted his hands back on my shoulders. I wanted him close so I didn’t feel so alone. I needed him to help me feel safe.

  I needed him. Period.

  “Brant…” I whispered, so low that I wasn’t sure Spence even heard and he was only a few inches from me.

  “I’m right here, baby. Getting your tea.” His voice came from the direction of the kitchen and I breathed out a sigh of relief. He was coming back. He wasn’t angry at me or disgusted. He was doing what he always seemed to be doing.

  He was looking out for me.

  Spencer typed a while, frowning here and there but mostly wearing an expression of intense focus. Talia retook her seat across from us and Brant pulled the last chair over so that he could sit by my side, holding my trembling hand as I sipped tea with the other.

  Eventually, Spencer looked up and nodded to us all. “So far, I’m not liking what I’m seeing at all. This guy had a lot of trips to the infirmary during his fifteen year stretch, which indicates that the other inmates got wind of what he’d done to you and made his life a living hell. Which gave him something else to be angry about, something else to blame you for. Well, you and Teach, since it says in the police report that Parker Jameson was the person who found him assaulting you and beat him within an inch of his life.”

  I could only nod.

  “I have a whole new level of respect for your uncle now, by the way,” Spencer said.

  “Me, too.” Talia’s eyes were glossy.

  Spencer turned back to the screen. “So, my guess is he heard about Teach pass
ing somehow, probably local papers or maybe a Google alert. Either way, he must have figured you’d be in the area because of that and took a chance at tracking you down.” He turned to me. “I assume Teach wasn’t hiding his whereabouts from anyone, was he?”

  “No. He was always pretty straightforward, unafraid. He didn’t even worry about getting in trouble for what he did for me.”

  “He was defending you from a predator; I sincerely hope he didn’t get into trouble for that.”

  I shook my head. “No, that wasn’t the issue. I mean what he did later to help me, the thing Keith used as leverage to get me to help him last year.” I managed to keep my head up this time, making myself proud. “Teach tampered with my high school transcripts to get me into the college where he taught. My grades were shit in high school, one foster home to another meant a lot of switching schools and not much learning. I really didn’t give a shit about school at the time. Finding somewhere safe to stay was kind of the priority. So, when the time came, Teach forged my transcripts so I could get into college. He risked everything to help me because he thought I deserved better than the hand I was dealt.”

  “I wish I’d known all this sooner. I really want to hug that man right now.” Talia said, wiping her eyes.

  “No one knew. Well, Clay and Ali know some of it because I felt like I owed it to them after what they went through—what I’d put them through—to at least give them an explanation. Teach told them; I couldn’t muster the courage to look them in the eye.”

  “Well, damn if they both can’t keep a secret because this is the first I’ve heard of any of it,” Spencer said.

  “Me too.” Echoed Talia and Brant.

  Talia looked at me from across the table. “That speaks volumes, Lauren. If they still blamed you, they wouldn’t have held so tight to your secrets.”

  I just nodded, giving Brant’s hand a squeeze.

  “Okay, here’s the plan.” Spencer clapped his hands together, making us all jump. “I have some feelers out, trying to see if there are credit cards or bank cards we can track. I’ve called in two investigators to watch the house and diner for any sign of him. And I’m going to try and track down security footage from the service station across from the diner to see if we can determine what kind of car he was in. Until then,” he looked between me and Brant. “Lay low. Stick close to one of us whenever possible. Work only day shifts at the diner and never enter or exit that building alone. I’m tracking down a taser for you and that should be here within a week, give or take. It’s kind of a special order.”

  “Um…” I stammered. “I can’t afford surveillance or investigators or whatever you call it, especially not two different people. I can probably swing the taser but there’s no need for you to order it, I can go get it myself.”

  He chuckled. “Not this one, you can’t. Government issue, guaranteed to scramble his fucking egg with one hit.” He pulled me in for a hug then leaned back, hands grasping my upper arms in a fond way. “And the surveillance is a tradeoff thing, these guys owe us. We do stuff for them, they do stuff in return. No money changes hands, so you don’t have to worry about that. Just let us do our thing so we can catch this guy, okay?” He closed his laptop and began gathering the rest of his things while Talia came over for another hug.

  “Listen to him. He’s really good at this. And you can call on any of us, day or night, okay? Ali said to be sure you knew that means her and Clay, too.” She said, hugging me and dropping her voice so only I could hear. “And you can call me if you need someone to talk to about the panic attacks. I can give you some tips that have helped me work through mine.”

  Something about her offer made me hug her tighter, knowing she’d just shared something immensely personal with me.

  Brant and I stood side by side in the kitchen, watching through the window as they drove off.

  “For a pariah, you sure get a lot of hugs.” He commented, nudging me with his elbow in that playful way he had.

  I turned to him then, remembering what he said to me just before he walked out of the bedroom. “I guess you have a point about the hugs.” I leaned in close, holding his eye as I smiled. “But yours will always be my favorites.”

  He arched a brow, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “And why is that?”

  “Because when you hold me, you’re really holding me and that makes me incredibly happy.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “Is that explanation enough, Weirdo?”

  “Yeah, gorgeous. It’s enough for now.”

  Eight

  Brant

  It had been nearly a week since I brought Lauren to stay with me. A week of long talks about trivial things, late-night movies, swimming, laughing, and working together. Only twice that week had Lauren insisted on working a shift at the diner, mostly because of scheduling issues that left her short-handed. The first time she went back to the diner after Isaac’s appearance, I expected her to be nervous, maybe even have another episode.

  Clearly, I’d misjudged her.

  She was much stronger than I was giving her credit for.

  Instead of being scared, she walked in and looked around as if she was seeing the place for the first time. She spun around in the empty dining room, smile widening by the minute and finally looked back at me in wonder. “He left all of this to me, Brant. Can you believe that? My uncle trusted me with this place, his dream.” She hadn’t cried, just walked around with a child-like wonderment on her face.

  I’d wanted so badly to kiss her then.

  I wanted to kiss her pretty much all the time these days.

  And I wanted to help her, protect her from everyone and everything.

  Isaac wasn’t the only obstacle for her, though he was the most dangerous. Given the way the people in this town felt about Lauren, news of her inheritance might cause trouble. I couldn’t be around to ward off every snide comment but I would damn sure make it known that it wouldn’t be tolerated anymore. Not in her diner. They would either keep their mouths shut or be sent packing. Be nice or kick rocks—plain and simple.

  So far, it hadn’t been announced and Lauren seemed content to keep it that way at least for a while.

  On the days she worked, I stayed at the diner. I kept myself out of the way, working on my computer and drawing up plans for Milly’s Mountain or one of the other projects I had coming up, anything to seem busy so Lauren wouldn’t feel like she was being babysat.

  Luckily, Lauren only had those two days that first week. The rest of the time, we meandered around the build site and she chatted with Ali and Talia or we stayed at the cabin and she helped me out with some of the renovations I was working on there. She quickly became my favorite helper, and not just because of how fucking sexy she was in a tool belt.

  We worked in silence a lot of the time but occasionally, one of us would plug our phone into the cabin’s integrated sound system. Today, it was Lauren’s turn to play something. She scrolled through her music for a while before groaning and throwing her hands up. “I give up. I couldn’t decide so I just set it to random.”

  We’d been listening to my music all week, which suited Lauren just fine since my playlists were full of songs by her favorite band, Thrill of the Chase. I chuckled when the first ‘random’ song that played from her list was one of theirs. And so was the second.

  We were both laughing by the time the third TotC song started.

  “Obsess much?” I teased, reaching for another sheet of drywall.

  She shrugged and pulled a tape measure from her belt, helping me measure for the cut. “I seem to recall several of their albums on your playlist, too. So don’t give me shit.” She stuck out her tongue and pulled her thin jacket closed. The weather was definitely making its decline from cooler to downright cold. After marking the cut-line, she pulled out her utility knife and made the cut as I held the square. Once it was cut to size, I grabbed it and headed back inside to install it.

  The song ended and we both paused, waiting with half-smiles to see
if the next song would be from the same band.

  It wasn’t.

  The first chords rung out and I immediately recognized the tune. “Time After Time.” A total eighties classic that, admittedly, I hadn’t heard in years. I looked to Lauren to comment but froze, seeing the starkly emotional look on her face. She swallowed hard as she glanced up at me, her watery eyes catching the light. “I forgot I had this one…” she explained. “It was my favorite song when I was little. I used to sing it all the time out behind the shed. For someone to feel this way about me, anyone really but especially my mother, that was my favorite fantasy. Someone waiting to catch me if I fell, someone to find me in the darkness. Someone to care.” Her eyes had taken on a faraway look and she blinked it away, squaring her shoulders and coming to help hold the drywall in place like nothing had just happened.

  Like she hadn’t just given me a look inside her soul.

  I didn’t push, didn’t try to discuss what she’d told me. Being her friend all these weeks had taught me to withhold comment when she showed me these little pieces of herself. She wasn’t asking me to fix anything, didn’t expect or want sympathy. All she wanted was someone to listen. So that’s what I did.

  After a few minutes, another song started and we fell back into a rhythm. Measure, cut, install. Measure, cut, install.

  We did all these things like we had been working together forever, falling into a routine without discussion. It was comfortable, being with her this way. We didn’t talk as much as we worked, didn’t feel the need, I guess. We were content in each other’s company.

  Okay, maybe I would have been more content if we were both naked, but this was nice too.

  For now.

  A while later, I was getting ready to start mudding the drywall and Lauren decided she was hungry.

  “You get started there,” she offered. “And I’ll run down and get us both a sub from the little sandwich shop that’s attached to the gas station.” I could tell from her voice that she expected an argument.