A Home for my Heart (Matters of the Heart #3)

by Velvet Reed

  “What’s going on? Why are you acting like this, Cole?”

  He turns to look at me and I can see the mix of anger and anxiety in his eyes. “Something happened this afternoon,” he answers hesitantly. “Sam didn’t take it well and no one’s heard from him or seen him since.”

  My mind instantly goes into overdrive, thinking of all the possible things that could have happened. Did a patient die? Did something happen to one of the Tierney’s? God, I hope he isn’t hurt. Suddenly, I feel very, very nauseous. “What?” I ask quietly, fearful of what he’s going to tell me but also wanting to know so I can find Sam and help him through whatever’s happening.

  “Look, I only found this out this afternoon and I’m shocked as hell, so I can only imagine what Sam’s feeling.” I take that in and wait for him to continue. “I got a call from Dad, telling me to get to their house straight away. When I got there my mom was a complete mess, I mean she was hysterical, Ashley. I’ve never in my life seen her so upset.”

  I’m immediately riddled with concern for Olivia now as well, trying to imagine what Cole’s describing versus the put-together and always calm Olivia I’ve come to know and love.

  “Anyway, apparently Sam had a visit from a woman at the hospital today, and she told him she was his birth mother.” I gasp in shock, my mind reeling and my heart plummeting for Sam. “So Sam ended up at Mom and Dad’s and completely lost it, screaming at Mom and saying things that just ripped her heart out. I mean, I can understand he was in shock, but Mom’s devastated.”

  “Wait a minute! You’re saying he was adopted?” I ask, trying to get my head around it.

  “Yeah.” That’s all he replies and then another thought comes to me.

  “Did your mom and dad know?”

  Cole nods his head solemnly. “They found out when they adopted him after the Evans’ died, but they never told him.” Unexpectedly, Cole slams his fist against the wall and I jump in fright. “I’m so goddamned pissed at him for the way he spoke to Mom, but I’m furious at my parents for keeping something like that from him, too. He had a right to know.”

  I can see the tug of war those conflicting thoughts are having on Cole, and I too feel anger towards Olivia and John for not telling Sam. However, the devastation I feel for Sam overrides that and all I want to do is comfort him and be there for him, supporting him through this. Where the hell is he?

  “Do you think he would have gone to your house?” Cole asks hopefully.

  Shaking my head, I reply, “No, I’m here because I have no hot water and I’m staying for the weekend. He wouldn’t go there.” I honestly have no idea where else Sam would be. He’d need time to cool off and think about things. Walking back into the bathroom I grab Sam’s portable phone off the counter and punch in the numbers.

  Heading back to where Cole’s pacing in the living area, I listen to it ring a few times before it connects and I hear, “Pitch and Tone’s. Pitch speaking.”

  “Hey Pitch, it’s Ashley,” I greet him.

  “Hey, it’s one of my favorite girls. You coming in tonight?”

  “No, not tonight. I was wondering if you could have a look around and tell me if Sam’s there?” I know it’s probably a long shot but I have to at least check.

  “Is everything okay, Ash?” Pitch asks, no doubt reading some anxiety in my voice.

  “Uh yeah.” I pause. “Actually I’m not sure. Can you please just have a look around for me?” I hear the slight quiver in my voice and try to stop it.

  “Yeah. Give me a minute, babe, and I’ll be right back.” The line goes quiet and I assume he’s in the office because I can only just hear the faint beat of music through the phone line.

  I look up and notice Cole watching me. “He’s going to have a look,” I tell him, and Cole solemnly nods back at me.

  My heart rate starts to increase as I wait for Pitch to return and my anxiety heightens. This really doesn’t feel right. I know Sam must be completely devastated, but why wouldn’t he come home? Why wouldn’t he come and talk to me about it?

  “You there, Ash?” Pitch asks, breaking through my thoughts.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “I checked the entire bar and even looked in the restroom. He’s not here.”

  The news gives me both a sense of relief but more worry. “Okay. Thanks Pitch.”

  “No worries. Listen, if he shows up I’ll give you a call, okay?” he offers.

  “That would be great. See you later, Pitch, and thanks again.” I hang up and stare at the phone. “Can you think of anywhere else he’d go?” I ask Cole.

  He finally stops pacing and takes a seat on the couch and lets out a long breath. “In normal instances I’d say he’d come here or to my place. If he turns up there, Gracie will call me.”

  “You… You don’t think he’d go to another bar and do anything stupid, do you?” I stammer. I’ve never seen Sam get really upset before. I know he locks his emotions up inside but it seems like today he let them explode. I really have no idea what he’s thinking and I’m worried sick. I feel the sting behind my eyes and squeeze them closed trying, to keep myself together.

  When Cole doesn’t answer and I look at him, my efforts fail and a few tears trail down my cheeks. “I’m really worried about him, Cole,” I confess.

  He’s out of his seat and by my side wrapping me in a hug. “I’m not going to lie to you, Ash, I am too. I don’t think he’d go get drunk but then I would never have thought he would speak to my mom the way he did today, either. He’s my best friend, my brother, and I know him better than anyone but right now, I have no idea what he might do.”

  I pull out of Cole’s arms and he wipes away another tear. “We’ll just have to wait for him to come home and go from there, Ash. I’m sure he’s just gone for a drive to cool down and clear his head.”

  So we wait.

  I take a quick shower while Cole calls Gracie and orders some take-out for dinner, but when it arrives I push the food around my plate barely eating any of it. “So how was work today?” Cole asks, breaking the silence.

  I raise a brow at his question and obvious attempt to distract our thoughts from Sam and the issue at hand. “How was your day, Cole?” I retort condescendingly.

  He makes a little sound in the back of his throat and the corner of his mouth turns up in the tiniest of smirks. “Well, the ER was actually quiet today. Nothing too exciting.”

  Well, isn’t that just great! Annoyed at his ‘quiet’ day, I bitchily reply, “My day was a freaking nightmare, Cole. From the moment I woke up and everything up until right now, has been a freaking nightmare. So honestly, you can take your nice, quiet little day and shove it up your…” His phone ringing and vibrating on the table cuts me off and my stomach jolts with anxiety, hoping that it’s Sam.

  “It’s Dad,” Cole informs me as he picks it up to answer the call, squeezing my hand in support and comfort when my face falls in disappointment.

  I sit there listening to the one sided conversation, half my mind concentrating on what’s being said, and the other half thinking about Sam. Please come home, baby.

  When the call ends, I look at Cole expectantly. “Dad was just checking in to see if I’d heard from Sam. He’s so worried and so pissed off right now,” he tells me.

  I nod in acknowledgement. I want to hate John and Olivia for not telling Sam the truth, but I can’t. I know what amazing parents they are and I know how much they love their children…and they do class Sam as their own.

  “How’s Olivia?” I ask.

  Cole shakes his head and the worry is clear in his eyes. “Dad had to give her something to calm her down and put her to bed.” He doesn’t elaborate further but I know in my heart that Olivia must be in bad shape for John to resort to something like that.

  For the next few hours we sit on the couch with the television on, waiting. Cole talks to Gracie, John and April several times checking if anyone has heard from Sam.

  With Sam’s land line in my hand I pr
ess redial again and internally chant with every ring. Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up. When it goes to voice mail again and I hear Sam’s voice telling me to leave a message for the fifteenth, twentieth, hundredth… who knows how many times, I simply breathe, “Sam, please.” and hang up. I just want to know he’s okay.

  I glance over at Cole on the other couch rubbing his eyes and yawning. “You should head home to Gracie, Cole. You’re exhausted and I know you have to be up early for work. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as he gets back.”

  I see a quick spark in his eyes but it quickly vanishes. “It’s okay. Gracie knows where I am. I’ll wait with you.”

  My best friend is so lucky to have this man, but I can’t let him wait here for who knows how much longer. “Honestly, Cole, I know you want to talk to Sam, and I really appreciate you being here. But it’s almost eleven o’clock, and Gracie’s going to be waiting up for you. You should go be with your family.”

  I can see the war of emotions written on his face. He wants to be with Gracie but he wants to be here, too. “You and Sam are family, Ash,” he says with such sincerity that I almost break and let the floodgates open.

  Getting up, I reach for his hand, which he takes, and pull him from the couch. “I know we are, and I love you for that but there’s really nothing you can do here until we hear from Sam. Go home, give my best friend and godson a big hug from me, and get some sleep.”

  Cole pulls me in for another hug. “You make sure you let me know as soon as he gets in. I don’t care what time it is.”

  “I will,” I promise with a small smile and head for the door.

  As he steps into the hall, Cole stops and turns back to me again. “If you need anything, Ash, anything at all, just call us.”

  “I know.” I try to smile again to reassure him, and it must work because he says goodbye and walks away. Closing the door and securing the locks, I head back for the couch and pick up the phone, punching in his number in a vain attempt that it will connect this time. I wait again, listening to it ring before I’m connected with his voice mail once more. This time I don’t leave a message. Pressing end, I toss the phone on the coffee table, creating a loud clatter and send up a prayer to the heavens when the glass top doesn’t shatter.

  Slumping heavily onto the couch, I reposition myself and stretch out. I’m exhausted. Physically and emotionally exhausted. As I lay there staring unseeingly at the television screen with my heart heavy and my mind full, my eyes begin to droop and I give into the darkness of sleep, but not before whispering one last time, “Come home, Sam.”

  It’s been seven days. An entire goddamn week and I haven’t seen or even heard from Sam.

  When I woke up on the couch the morning after Cole had been at Sam’s apartment, I quickly rushed back to his bedroom to check for any sign of him but came up with nothing. I called his phone but this time it went straight to message bank. It didn’t even ring. I called Cole after that and was shocked when he said he was just about to call me. My heart damn near beat out of my chest at the prospect of there being some news, then plummeted when he told me that he’d received a text around three that morning from Sam. Basically, it said he was fine and everyone should stop calling and texting him. It said he was going away for a while and that we shouldn’t worry about him.

  What the hell! I was furious. I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t talk to me and that he’d just leave without saying a freaking word. I didn’t cry when Cole told me. I just stood there in Sam’s bedroom, completely dumbfounded. It didn’t make sense to me that he would just leave, so when I got off the phone from Cole, I ran to the closet. If he left then he would have taken stuff with him, he would have left me a note or… something. I was foolish in my thinking because while, at first glance, everything looked like it hadn’t been touched, on closer inspection I saw that some of his clothes and things were missing. Which meant that he came home after his argument with Olivia and had the peace of mind to pack but not to tell me what was going on. After asking me to move in with him earlier that day, it turned out that he didn’t even think about me or the effect his actions would have on our relationship.

  How the hell was I supposed to not worry about him? I love the inconsiderate asshole! I told him I loved him… But he never said the words back.

  That morning when Mary got to the store, I rushed out and bought a new phone, hoping that he had called that instead of his house line. I figured that maybe he hadn’t listened to his messages. Maybe he didn’t know my phone was broken. Maybe. All that hope died when I finally had the new phone ready for use and there were a list of missed calls and texts from Cole, Gracie, April and even John, but not one damn thing from Sam.

  Since the new water heater at my house wouldn’t be available until the following Monday morning, I ended up having to stay at Sam’s the entire weekend. By lunch time Saturday, though, I was going insane dialing and redialing his number, then staring at the phone waiting for him to call me back. He never did. I couldn’t sit around any longer so I went to see Gracie and Cooper. The mood was a little somber but we all tried to act like everything was fine. I wasn’t fine. My anger only grew.

  So this week has consisted of me going to work, ruining orders when I get pissed, snapping at the girls for the most ridiculous reasons, going home and eating a truckload of absolute garbage, and basically being a grumpy bitch. I’m not fine.

  The knock on my office door breaks my gloomy thoughts and has me looking up from the delivery slips I’m checking. Mary stands in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest and a stern look marring her features. I sigh heavily and roll my eyes, then look back at the paperwork, because I really don’t need this shit right now.

  “You know if you roll your eyes like that and the wind changes, they’ll stay like that.”

  I look at her and shake my head. “My Grammy used to say shit like that to me all the time. I’m a big girl now, I don’t believe in those little myths or fairytales or whatever the hell they are,” I retort.

  Mary steps into the room and slams the door behind her. “And I’m sure if your Grammy was here right now, she’d rip you a new one for treating your staff, your friends, the way you have been for the past week.”

  I roll my eyes again as she stomps over to my desk. “We understand, Ash. We know you’re hurting and we know how upset you must be. We’re all here for you, but rest assured that if you keep acting the way you have been, that will change pretty quick.” I open my mouth to interrupt her but she holds up a hand to stop me and continues. “The way you just yelled at Andy out there was completely uncalled for. You had the poor girl in tears and for what? Because she didn’t put the new vases exactly where you wanted them?”

  “She’s been here long enough, Mary. She should know how things work,” I snap. This is my business, goddamn it, and if they want to work for me they’ll do things the right way.

  Mary stares at me in quiet contemplation and then slowly shakes her head. “You were the one who said it was okay for her to organize how to display the new vases. You were the one who told Andy that you liked her idea, and you were the one who just embarrassed the hell out of her in front of customers.”

  Now my back is up and I’m on the defensive. I stand from my chair and hear it hit the wall behind me, pushed back by the force of my body. Placing one palm flat on my desk and pointing at her with the other, I let her have it. “This is my shop, Mary. I own it and I decide how things work around here. If people don’t like the way I run things, well then they know where the door is.”

  Eyes wide with shock at my tirade, Mary takes a step back while I hold my ground, not backing down an inch. I can’t be certain but I think her eyes glaze ever so slightly, but then she straightens and stiffens her resolve. “I love you, sweetie. God knows I love you like my own daughter and I hate to see you hurting. I really do. But I won’t stand by and let you carry on and push people away, push me away because you’re in pain. I just won’t. You’re be
tter than that, Ashley Brookes, and I’m here for you when you’re ready to talk and be civil.”

  I snort in derision. “I don’t push people away, Mary. I get left behind without a word. I love people with all my heart and I get left behind.” My blood’s boiling and I can feel my cheeks heat with anger. “My parents said they were taking me to Grammy’s for a visit and never ever came back, and last week Sam asked me to move in with him and then left and will probably never ever come back. So why don’t you do me a favor and get the hell out of my office and don’t ever come back.”

  My chest is heaving as I suck in shallow breaths. I’m on the verge of losing it and need to be alone, but she’s still standing there, looking stunned. “GO! Just fucking go!” I scream at the top of my lungs, and she finally takes the hint and hurries out of the room.

  I can’t catch my breath. I’m trying to take a deep breath but it doesn’t help. My heart’s racing, I’m gasping for air while panic begins to take hold. Clutching at my chest, I try to make my way to the door to call Mary back. I can’t breathe. With each step I take, my vision starts to blur and I stumble. “Mary!” I wheeze between gasps. Oh God! I’m dying. Taking another step, I stumble again and squint my eyes, trying to find the door. Then I’m falling, and pain explodes in the back of my head, taking my breath completely.

  My head’s killing me and the light hurts my eyes when I open them. I keep blinking, trying to see properly, but it’s still blurry.

  “Miss, you need to keep still for us.” The voice is male and unfamiliar, so I turn my head in the direction it came from and will my eyes to open to see who it is. “Please don’t move. We’re going to help you but you need to stay still.” Confused by his words I furrow my brow and instantly regret it as pain lances through my skull.

  “Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?” I hear Mary pleading, her voice full of anxiety.

  “Just stand back, please, ma’am, and let us access the patient.”

  With my eyes still not cooperating and my head pounding, I simply lay there and ignore what’s happening around me. When I feel pressure at the back of my head where the headache is coming from, I find my ability to speak and croak out, “Ouch!”