Heartbreaker (Unbreakable #1)

by Kat Bastion

He was our hero. My hero.

  I’d been waiting my whole life for him. What’s a couple of years more?

  Yet…fear gripped me at my core. Tonight sounded too much like good-bye.

  And for two people who’d only had a handful of days to love each other…

  A couple of years? Seemed like forever away.

  Darren…

  “You look like shit.” Logan accused from nearby, tone matter-of-fact.

  I scrubbed my face. Bone-deep sleep fuzzed my brain as I blinked my eyes open.

  She stared at me from her hospital bed.

  “You’re up.” Adrenaline flashed through my veins. I launched from the recliner and rushed to her side. “Need water? I think they allow ice chips.” I grabbed the bed controls, went to press the nurse’s button.

  Logan stabbed her hand between mine and the electronics. “Calm down. I’m fine.” Although her voice came out gravelly, her skin had better color.

  Still, I narrowed my eyes at her. “You are not fine.”

  “I’m better than you. You look like a freakin’ zombie.” She cocked her head. “Pasty skin. Red-rimmed eyes. Well-nourished, but still the living dead.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Have you been crying?”

  “Not over you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She folded her sheet down, then smoothed the blanket. “Trying not to be insulted.”

  “You” —I pointed an accusing finger at her— “scared the ever-loving fuck out of me. Hard to cry when you can’t breathe.”

  “Sorry.”

  The quiet word stung. Then I heard myself saying it to Kiki. Total loser-word. Didn’t begin to cover the damaging heartache. Not even close.

  “It’s okay.” It wasn’t. But it would be. Had to be.

  “So if you didn’t cry over me, who got the lucky honors.”

  “Kiki.”

  “Kiki?” Her furrowed brow lasted only a split second. Then her eyes widened. “Oh my God. What happened? Is Kiki okay?”

  I snorted. “You almost kill yourself, and you’re worried about Kiki?”

  “I did not almost kill myself,” she growled, eyes narrowing. “Answer the question.”

  “Kiki’s fine. Or she will be.” I hoped. “I broke up with her.”

  “You did what?”

  “I broke up with her.” I said it more forcefully, swallowing down my punishment.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “This idiot plans on keeping us together.”

  “At what cost?”

  “You weren’t there in the waiting room, Lo. Police officers were there. Scared the fuck out of me. If they thought we weren’t holding it together, the next government officials sitting me down will be case workers.”

  On a deep exhalation, she leveled a hard look at me. “You’re not listening to me, D. Did you not notice that we weren’t living? I was holed up in my room, depressed as hell. You were a zombie, going through the motions of work and school. Keeping food on our table isn’t living, it’s slaving.”

  “What do you want me to do, Lo?” I backed up and sat down on the small couch beside the recliner.

  “Live.”

  The powerful word echoed between us.

  We’d only been surviving, making it from one day to the next. “I wasn’t always a zombie.”

  She crossed her arms, gaze still pegged to me. “Not in the last few weeks, you weren’t.”

  Right. Because of Kiki.

  I sighed and shook my head. “It’s too much, Logan. Kiki deserves more than the time I can give her. You’re my family, and I’m not risking something happening to you again.”

  “You aren’t in charge of my every move.” Her voice quieted and she looked away, picking at a thread on the tan woven blanket. “I only took the pills to save myself.”

  “How ridiculously ironic.”

  “Didn’t know what else to do. Trevor scared me. And I panicked.” She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Downing the pills right in front of him was the only thing I could think of. I knew it would make him freak.”

  Couldn’t fault her for using a last-ditch effort when she only had seconds to defend herself. “Well, thank fuck it worked.”

  Her lips tilted up a little into a lopsided smile and her brows raised slightly. “Still glad you’re stuck with me?”

  I blew out a lungful of air, then crossed the room and tugged her into my arms. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  She squeaked and shoved against my chest. “Patient needing oxygen here.”

  After a few quiet seconds, both of us clinging to one another, glad to be alive and kicking, I released my hold and stared toward the medical file tucked into the plastic holder on her open door. “The doctor’s supposed to be coming by around lunchtime to give us a report.”

  “How long do I have to stay?”

  “Nurse said a few days. Think they’re required by law, whenever it’s...”

  I struggled to say the devastating word.

  Her hand gripped my forearm. “Don’t say it.”

  “Okay. I…okay.” A cramp choked my throat. Over how much I’d lost…and almost lost.

  “Can we break out?”

  I snorted out a short laugh. “Only if we want social services hunting us down.”

  A nurse filed in. “Oh, you’re up. How are you feeling?”

  Logan blinked in surprise at her. “I’m okay. Could I get some water?”

  When the nurse nodded and disappeared, Logan glanced back at me. “So…now what? Back to the zombie slaving?”

  “Very funny.”

  My heart sank at her point.

  But it had to be done. My number one priority was to keep her safe and provided for. And I needed to be involved in her life, make the time to be a more active participant.

  Logan had to come before everyone else, including me.

  Without being able to stop it, my thoughts drifted to my last image of Kiki: her staring up at me with tears in her eyes.

  I did that.

  A burning sensation ignited in the center of my chest. After several deep breaths, I rubbed my sternum in a weak attempt to ease the pressure.

  A flash of movement tore me out of my thoughts, then a small tissue box smacked the spot where I’d been rubbing. It tumbled into my hand.

  Logan’s face twisted into a deep scowl. “You’re an idiot.”

  Kiki…

  Silence echoes the loudest when you listen to it.

  I’d cried myself to sleep the last few nights, but I felt like I had nothing left inside me to sob out. Numbness had taken over.

  Home saved—by a hero who’d won over the girl, then vanished—I wandered through my empty warehouse, struck by the intense quiet.

  After I sat at my worktable for a few minutes, Chipmunky jumped up and sideswiped the arms I’d propped under my chin, as if sensing I needed some TLC. His loud purr broke into the deafening silence in the best kind of way.

  “Hey, munchkin.” As I ran my fingers over his sleek multicolored coat, a memory flashed: At least one guy wants what I’m offering.

  My fingers froze midstroke. I’d said that to Chipmunky the morning after Darren had dropped me off and then found me in the alley. My last attempt at a one-night stand had turned into the beginning of Darren and me.

  And mere feet away from where I sat had been the end.

  My chest burned, unable to take a next breath.

  My eyes ached, welling with tears.

  Then big, fat drops streaked down my face, and I started sobbing all over again.

  Tuesday’s art class came and went. I forced myself to go. Logan didn’t show.

  No calls. No texts. Not from her. Not from Darren.

  Utter silence.

  And although I worried about them—hoped Logan was doing okay, missed Darren to a level I couldn’t describe—I kept my distance and didn’t make contact.

  After all, we weren’t friends anymore.

  Wednesday, I woke up and went runnin
g for the first time in three days.

  It felt good to get out into the fresh air and sunshine again. I tested out a new trail, upping my distance to almost five miles. For the first time, I ran the downhills, careful to step with precision while keeping a steady pace.

  Every time my thoughts drifted to Darren?

  I pushed myself harder.

  Happened a lot.

  But the mental anguish translated into physical pain, which only fueled my determination to keep my focus on the trail—nothing else.

  And in the vast wide open space, in the middle of wilderness, I found a different kind of silence: A peace in my head and heart. It had become a compromise between what my body could endure if I punished it and what my brain was willing to let go of in order to ease the pain.

  When I got home that afternoon? I made it official: I registered for the race.

  Then I downloaded the race map of a park I hadn’t yet visited. I made a mental note to begin training on the race trail starting tomorrow. The website described the trail as a lollypop loop: the same straightaway start and finish with a four-mile circle at the top, five miles total.

  The rest of the afternoon I kept busy, packing boxes of sold artwork to ship to buyers.

  And I did not think of Darren while I did so. Much.

  Thursday afternoon, I went to art class stemming a bit of an attitude.

  Because…really? Darren inserts himself into my life, then just pulls the plug?

  And then…not one text or phone call?

  Doesn’t he want to know if I’m okay?

  At the last thought, a twinge of guilt speared through me. He needed to focus on his sister—who almost hadn’t been okay.

  Then I sighed, giving him a break.

  His love for me had been real. Incredibly real.

  No matter what happened, even if we never found our way back to each other again, my life had been irrevocably altered by him.

  I’ve been truly loved.

  The door opened, startling me out of my thoughts. Logan stepped through. So did ten other students.

  Her gaze caught mine, and she beelined straight for me. “Hey.”

  I blew out a shaky breath. “Hey. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Got out of the hospital yesterday. They had to keep me until then.” Legs bouncing nervously, she glanced at the others as they took their seats.

  “I’m glad.” I nodded, giving her a warm smile. “Was really worried about you.”

  She tilted her face slightly downward, staring at me from under the brim of her black newsboy hat. “We are still friends. I…he…” She huffed out a frustrated sigh. “Just wanted to say that.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  I glanced at the class, who one by one had begun to stare at us as we talked softly at the front, then back at her. “Does he…”

  What? Think about me? Miss me as much as I miss him?

  Instead of sounding lame and desperate, I kept it neutral. “Is he okay?”

  She dropped me a deadpan look. “Define okay.”

  Darren…

  “What?” I snarled at my bandmates. “Waiting for an invitation?”

  Nick clenched his jaw.

  Trey narrowed his eyes.

  Skinny JJ just shook his bleach-tipped head, then hit the first note on his keyboard—and dragged it out, letting the note die when Nick and Trey didn’t join in.

  They kept staring at me.

  I wasn’t in the mood. Couldn’t breathe. Hadn’t been able to sleep. For the last few days—since Sunday—I’d been doing all the right things. Yet the world felt wrong.

  “What’s with him?” Nick shot a glance at Logan, shaggy red bangs falling over his brow.

  “He’s being an idiot,” she muttered.

  “An idiot who went to your high school rock concert last night.” I’d kept the promise I made to her weeks ago when weaving through traffic, late to my studio audition. “You were awesome, by the way.”

  Murmurs of agreement echoed into the garage. Nick nodded and gave her a half-hug. “You done good, kid.”

  “So, we playin’, or what?” My knee bounced as I let out a hard sigh. If the fuckers didn’t start in the next few seconds, I’d rip out a rhythm without ’em.

  I’d been agitated all week, bouncing off the walls with not enough to keep me out of my head.

  School was out.

  Studio work didn’t start till next Wednesday.

  And the insane amount of money I now made with Dino justified lightening my load. I’d handed over my DJ gig to my boy, Rick, who’d already been helping out at Loading Zone and events. Cade had agreed to have me work Invitation Only parties on a case-by-case basis. I’d handle the ones I could and delegate the rest to Rick.

  “Not until you unload, dude.” Nick yanked off his guitar.

  Trey did the same. JJ sat on his stool with an emphatic nod.

  “He fell in love.” Logan remained where she stood, hands resting on her guitar. Her charcoaled eyes narrowed at me. “Then the idiot dumped her—for me.”

  My gut clenched at the truth in her words.

  An ache burned, deep in my chest. Again.

  Been going on for days. Couldn’t stop thinking about Kiki no matter where I went or what I did. And my heart kept shredding over and over, each and every damn time.

  Fucking drove me crazy, wanting…needing…what I couldn’t have.

  “I’m not listening to this.” I stowed my sticks in their case. “Thought maybe we’d play one last time. But if you guys don’t want to, I’m out.”

  “Saw her at art class today.” Her voice softened.

  My legs tensed. My breath caught. I’d been about to stand, but stayed right where I sat. “Yeah?”

  Don’t ask.

  Do not ask.

  I stared at a piece of lint on the cement by the minifridge. If I didn’t look at Logan, maybe I wouldn’t fucking lose it.

  “Yeah.” All she said.

  Silence followed. Except for my pulse that hammered a wicked beat in my ear.

  “Annnd?” Trey arched his brows.

  “She looks like crap, D, just like you. Barely held together on the outside, eyes full of pain.”

  Nick gave a solid nod. “You’re a fucking mess.”

  I leaned back on my stool and crossed my arms. “Didn’t realize this was gonna be an intervention.”

  “It is what it is.” JJ leaned an arm on the steel shelving unit against the wall. “Whatever you need.”

  Nods followed around the room.

  Great.

  I let out an exhausted sigh, ready to bolt. I did not need to get in touch with my feelings. Been down in that dark hole all week. I came here to get out of my head.

  “Hey.” Logan’s face lit up. “That’s it. You need to come to our next SSL meeting.”

  I snorted. “Like hell I do.”

  “No. Really, D.” She stepped closer, voice lowering. “You do.”

  Our gazes locked. Brother to sister. Guardian to charge. Family.

  As I stared into expressive eyes that held experience beyond their years, I let out a slow breath. “You need this.”

  “I do.” She put her hand on my forearm. “You need this too. I need you to be whole for me. You need to realize that you can’t stop living to take care of me. You have to live for you first.”

  “I will, Lo. Just not yet.”

  “Now, D. You have to live for you now. We don’t get chances at happiness often. You need to take yours.”

  “We’ve been over this. I…I can’t do both.” I pinched my eyes shut for a beat. “Not well, anyway. Look what happened.”

  “Shit happens, D. We know this. But you can’t control everything, so stop trying.” She squeezed my arm. “Come to Tuesday’s meeting. Promise me you’ll be there. You’ll see that you can do both.”

  I had no idea how she had all that confidence about something I couldn’t see past. All I knew was Logan needed me—all of me. I thought that meant
centering all of my focus only on her. She insisted there was more to it than that.

  And I would do anything for her—especially when she looked up at me with that pleading look in her eyes.

  “All right. I’ll be there.”

  But I’m not promising anything.

  I’d never been to one of Logan’s SSL meetings. Not as a participant. Sure, I’d watched a couple of times for a few minutes from the back. Had walked by the door once or twice, glanced in the windows. But I’d never actually attended from the beginning, become a part of the group.

  The room felt hot and I plucked my T-shirt from my chest for a split second as I took a seat in the chair nearest the door. My heart thumped faster than made sense while I glanced at the other fourteen people as, one by one, they each claimed a seat in the circle.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fuck down.

  It’s just a harmless meeting, D. Get your shit together.

  I’d come for Logan. Not for me.

  Near a dry-erase board at the front, Logan spoke in hushed tones with a large middle-aged man who glanced toward me. Then he gave Logan a nod and a pat on her shoulder before she sat in the empty seat beside me.

  The man she’d talked with addressed the group once the last person was seated. “Hi, I’m Ron.”

  “Hi, Ron,” the group replied, me included.

  “Some of you have heard my story, others haven’t. Helps me to share it once in a while. Because, when I lost my baby girl, Denise—just fourteen with everything to live for, gone in an instant—I shut down for a few weeks. Then? I centered all my focus on my boy, Dillon, a senior in high school.

  “Drove that poor boy nuts. I was all up in his business and worried about everything: his friends, what he did at night, how his grades were, if he drank or doped. Whenever he went out, I agonized about him coming home. Even tailed him a couple of times.”

  Ron shook his head. “Crazy, I know. But I” —his voice cracked— “felt like I’d failed my daughter. I refused to fail my son. Except…I was doing just that when I began to smother him. We started fighting, bad.”

  His voice lowered. “And I put all that focus on my son at the expense of my wife—our marriage. She kept quiet the whole time. Suffered in silence at the loss of our girl even though she needed me.