Tattered (Tattered Heart Duet Book 2)

by Brooke O'Brien

  “When I found out my dad died, I left my platoon early. My sergeant told me they were only expecting it to be a few more days before they would be coming home. Otherwise, I would’ve had my dad’s funeral sooner and left to head back out with them. Anyway, the call I got was from my sergeant. I guess some of the guys were on surveillance duty when the Humvee they were riding in hit a roadside bomb. Two of them didn’t make it and the other two are in critical care. I don’t know—” he pauses, squeezing his eyes shut again not wanting to voice the words out loud.

  Setting my notebook down, I move to climb onto his lap and I’m grateful he lets me. Wrapping my arms around him, I press my lips against his neck and send up a silent prayer of thanks. I know the reality of the situation because I’ve spent many nights lying awake at night thinking about getting the same news. The one saying something happened to him and he wouldn’t be making it home, at least not alive.

  I feel Maverick’s body shake as the sobs rack through his body and my heart breaks for him. He’s felt so much loss in his life, it’s no wonder he struggles to let anyone close to him.

  His arms wrap around my lower back, rubbing his fingers along the skin beneath my tank top. There is so much I want to say to him in that moment. I want him to know that I’m here for him, that I’m not going anywhere. There is another part of me that realizes that his dad dying saved his life, because he would’ve been there and the way he’s feeling now, could’ve been me.

  “I need you to know I’m sorry,” he mutters, his words coming out broken.

  “We don’t have to talk about that—” I say.

  “No. We do,” he interrupts, stopping me as my eyes meet his. “I have been thinking this week, especially about my friends’ wives who are grieving the loss of their husbands. I want you to know I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have let you go. I know how you felt when I left you because watching you go, I couldn’t do it. All of this has just reminded me that I can’t take us for granted. I love you; I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen years old and you flew past me on your skateboard nearly knocking me on my ass. I don’t care where I go or what I do because being with you is what will make me happy. I can live anywhere in this world because as long as I’m with you, I’m home.”

  Tears fill my eyes. I bite down on my lower lip, struggling to keep my emotions in check. I’ve spent so many nights lying awake missing him. My heart and body have ached to have him with me, to hear those words pass his lips.

  “It’s not my fault. You were the one who got in my way. You were following me around, even then.”

  A grin breaks out across his face. I can’t help it. My heart warms as a curve lines my mouth, matching his.

  Wrapping my hand around his neck, I run my thumb along the edge of his jaw. “I love you, too. I promise there is no one who will ever love you like I do.”

  “Well, that’s good, because I don’t want anyone but you.”

  I scoff, laughing. “You better fucking not,” I murmur as my lips crash down on his. His arms wrap around me tight, holding me close to him.

  Epilogue

  MAVERICK ~ ONE MONTH LATER

  My knuckles rasp on Graham’s office door. He glances up from the papers he was shuffling through, looking at me. His hair looks like he’s ran his hands through it and his facial hair is longer than he normally keeps it.

  I don’t dare mention it though. He’s been on edge lately and if I had to guess, it has everything to do with the five-foot-four blonde who has kept him on his toes since we were in high school.

  “I’m going to head out for the night. Ryan and I are having a date night tonight.”

  It’s been three weeks since I returned home from attending the funerals. Originally Ryan wasn’t going to be able to come with me. I flew out to Georgia and much to my surprise, she showed up at my hotel room the next morning. I was so fucking grateful to have her there with me. Going through this without her would’ve been hard, especially because I’ve been feeling guilty for not being there.

  I’ve been struggling with nightmares, survivor’s guilt as my therapist calls it. I keep feeling like had I been there, maybe the situation would’ve turned out differently. Sleeping next to Ryan has always brought me a sense of peace, but when the nightmares started in, she insisted that I talk to someone. I know she was worried and I hated that, so I did what she asked.

  As hard as it’s been for me to open up and talk to people, I’m glad she’s pushed me to do this. Now I’m taking doc’s advice and taking my girl out for the night. Ryan and I skipped past the dating stage. Time has never really been in our favor, so we decided to take a few steps back and enjoy taking things slow. Which is really kind of silly if you ask me because after I told her how I felt for her, I insisted that I wasn’t going to leave her again. That also meant that for as long as we’re together, I won’t go to bed another night without her by my side.

  We’ve been talking a lot about moving out of her loft and finding a place with a little more space, but for now, we’re just enjoying each other.

  “Alright, sounds good. Have a good night, man. I’ll see you next week.”

  When I decided to stick around Everton, I knew without a doubt I wanted to help Dean and Graham get their business off the ground. It was also great to work with my friends, especially after everything that has happened.

  A few minutes later, I pull up in front of Tattered and park next to Ryan’s Jeep. Pushing the button on my remote, I lock up and decide to head inside the shop knowing she’s likely still finishing up.

  The bell rings as I walk through the front door and I spot Ryan in her room off to the side. I nod my head at Chris, giving him a silent hello before heading over to see my girl.

  She’s cleaning up for the day. Leaning against the doorway, I watch her cross the room and bend down to put something away.

  “Damn,” I mutter to myself. I didn’t think she’d hear me over the music, but I must’ve been talking louder than I expected.

  “You like what you see?” she replies over her shoulder, not even bothering to look over at me.

  “You know I do.” Moving on impulse, I cross the room and wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her up. She turns to face me, sliding her hands over my chest.

  Leaning down, I press a kiss against her lips. Her hand is touching a place on my chest that’s still sore from the tattoo she recently designed, now permanently displayed on my skin.

  “How’s it feeling?”

  “Not bad, I think it’s healing pretty well.”

  Her hands wrap around the hem of my shirt, pulling it up so she can take a look. The tattered heart resembles the one that she has on her forearm, but the talent she put into the design symbolizes so much more than that for me. The flag that wraps around the heart, like a shield of protection. It’s perfect and I’m proud to have her heart with me now, wherever I go.

  She leans forward and presses a soft kiss against my skin and I feel the jolt shoot through me. Ryan’s always had this effect on me.

  Wrapping my hand in her hair, I tilt her head up and press another kiss against her lips. Only this time, I deepen it as my tongue tangles with hers.

  “Baby, you should be careful. We have plans for tonight but with the look in your eyes, I think I’d much rather take you upstairs and stay in for the night.”

  “Our reservations aren’t for another hour. I’m sure we could make use of our time until then, don’t you think?”

  The desire on her face and the swollen look of her lips gives me ideas of my own. Ones that have nothing to do with making it for our dinner plans.

  “You’re fucking perfect for me, you know that?”

  “Wasn’t it just this morning you were calling me a pain in your ass?” she asks, raising her eyebrow as her lips curve into a small smile.

  She knows how to drive me crazy and right now she’s doing it again.

  Reaching down, I wrap my hand around her ass cheek and squeeze her flesh throu
gh the tight denim of her jeans.

  “I’m glad you reminded me. You still owe me for that little tease this morning. I guess we’ll have to make use of that hour before dinner after all.”

  I press her body against the counter, rubbing my hard length against her. She hitches her leg over my hip as a deep moan passes her lips.

  “Fucking perfect,” I mutter as my mouth crashes down on hers.

  This girl has ruined me.

  The End!

  Sneak Peek of Where I Found You

  Prologue

  ELLIE ~ 12 YEARS OLD

  Sitting on the floor in my bedroom, I’ve been staring off into space for what feels like an hour now. My mom sent me downstairs to play, saying she didn’t want to look at me. It’s not the first time she’s told me she couldn’t bear the sight of me, but it hasn’t hardened my soul, doesn’t lessen the hurt. My thoughts continue to replay the way she was digging through the kitchen cabinets while tears streamed down her face. Her eyes red and her hair a tangled mess as she searched the cupboards for more alcohol.

  “Anything to make it go away,” she repeated over and over. She never said what she meant, but I knew.

  She wanted to take away the pain she felt after my Dad left us and went to heaven.

  I try to stay away from my mom when she’s drinking, but it seems like all the time lately. So instead I hide out in my room. It's my safe place.

  I can hear my name being shouted from somewhere upstairs. I know my mom isn’t home. Coming up empty after a thorough search of all her hiding places, she headed to the store for reinforcements. Only one other person could be yelling for me.

  My heart starts to pound as I squeeze my eyes shut and say a prayer. I beg God every night for him to leave me alone. I’m living the same nightmares that keep me up at night.

  The dry, hoarse sound of my name being called again brings me crashing back to reality. On shaky legs, I stand while taking a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I want to run, but I know what would come either way, so instead, I leave the safety of my bedroom and head up the stairs. As soon as I reach the landing, the stench of cigarette smoke invades my nostrils, causing my stomach to turn.

  I hate the smell of cigarettes. It’s not only the scent or how they make my head hurt, but because they remind me so much of him. The two are synonymous and will forever be etched in my memory.

  The football game blares on the TV as smoke floats through the air. The curtains and windows are open. A fresh breeze flows and sunlight streams in onto the hardwood floors. I can hear the outside laughter of the neighbor kids, and for a minute, I wish I was like the other kids my age, spending the afternoon riding their bikes up and down the sidewalk or playing hide ‘n seek.

  I would give anything to be hiding in my room.

  Letting out a silent breath I didn’t realize I had been holding, I steal a glance out of the side of my eye to see him sitting in his chair in the corner of the living room. The ashtray on the end table is nearly overflowing with cigarette butts. My lip curls in disgust.

  “C’mere, sweet girl,” he says with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

  I stare at it as if I can somehow will it to fall, leaving burn marks on his skin in the process. Anything to get him to leave me alone for a while.

  “Come sit up here on my lap,” he commands, the tone forcing my feet to move.

  Advancing to stand in front of him, I take in the glassy, bloodshot look in his eyes. I wish I could say it surprises me, but it doesn’t. The clear liquid in the glass on the end table confirms what I already know. He’s been drinking. Vodka, to be exact.

  It's not his first drink today, and I know it won’t be his last.

  Moving to sit on his knee, I turn to face the TV screen and use the football game to distract me from the way my stomach churns. I tell myself over and over to remain calm and remember to breathe, all while wishing I was anywhere else but here.

  Slow breaths, Ellie.

  Inhale slowly. Exhale slowly.

  He takes a deep drag from his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray. The smoke swirls around in front of my face. I hold my breath for as long as I can. He reaches out to pick up his half empty glass of vodka. Just before taking a drink, he tips his glass to me in offering. The grin on his face says it all. He thinks it’s funny, like the last time I fell for believing it was water.

  That’s not a mistake I will ever make again.

  Shaking my head, I somberly turn back to the TV. I can feel his chest vibrate against my back as he laughs before throwing back what’s left of his vodka. I want to be mad at him but I don’t have the strength to fight him.

  Not anymore.

  Wrapping his arm around my stomach, he pulls me back leaving no room between us. His hand runs along the underside of my chest, and it catches me off guard, causing me to tense. I don’t like it when he touches me. I harken my ears for the sound of my Mom’s car pulling into the driveway. At least when she’s home, he doesn’t bother me.

  Sweeping my long blond hair away from my face, he leans down pressing his nose against my neck. Running his cheek along mine, the stubble of his facial hair feels like sandpaper against my soft skin. He moves his hand down my stomach, groaning as he presses down, rubbing himself against my butt.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I fight back the tears that threaten to fall. The last thing I remember is the grunting sound he makes and the words my father used to say.

  Now they only cause me sadness.

  Pressing his cheek against mine, he groans, “That’s my sweet girl.”

  One

  ELLIE ~ TODAY

  Losing someone close to you is one of the hardest things you can go through. The moment reality hits you, knowing you will never see them again can be the most difficult part to accept. The finality of death has a way of chipping away at your heart, bit by bit.

  You’d think by now I’d be used to it, I’ve spent most of my life picking up the broken pieces of my heart. But there is no guide to help you navigate through the stages of grief. Everyone has their own way of working through it, but for me what I wanted was to be left alone.

  The solitude of silence.

  I guess I’ve just gotten sick of seeing the look of pity on people’s faces and their constant questioning whether I’m okay. What did they expect me to say? It’s as if they believe there’s a difference in the pain you should feel between losing someone unexpectedly or knowing it’s their time. I started to wonder if they even gave a shit. If I were honest and told them how I felt, they’d be in tears. We can just leave it at that.

  I’ve spent the past three hours in the backseat of a cab. I suspected the driver was a lot like me, feeling weighed down by the constant need to fill the silence. If I wanted to waste my time with small talk and pleasantries, I’m sure we could chat about the rain beating heavy on the roof of the cab, or I could thank him for how fast he has managed to get me out of that godforsaken town.

  I don’t though, because what’s the point?

  The only sound that fills the silence is the GPS signaling we are approaching our destination. Pulling to a stop, I let out a deep breath as I look out the window taking in the dimly lit cafe.

  It’s been raining heavily all day, and the winds have started to pick up. Unzipping the front pocket of my backpack, I feel around for my coin purse, pulling out the cash I tucked away before turning to pay the driver. Mumbling a quick thank you, I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt as I open the passenger door.

  Rushing around to the trunk, I heave my suitcase onto the ground as I situate my backpack. I have less than an hour before I board the bus out of here. With a seven-hour bus trip ahead of me, I use my time wisely, stopping for a coffee and a quick bite to eat. My stomach growls at the thought.

  A bell rings as I open the old wooden door to the cafe. A wooden bar lined with barstools wraps around the front and tables sit around the outside of the room. It’s small and quaint.

  There's an o
lder man reading a newspaper at a table off to the side and a couple up at the bar laughing together as the waitress refills their coffee. By the looks of it, the weather must be keeping people away this afternoon.

  With a kind smile, the waitress raises her hand motioning for me to seat myself. Pulling my suitcase along behind me, I maneuver myself over to a table in the back corner, the sound of the wet wheels dragging along behind me. Pulling out the chair, I choose a seat closest to the window.

  The thunder cracks, drawing my attention back outside. Ominous clouds roll through the sky as another storm is brewing, leaving the sky an angry gray. I just hope the bus departure is not delayed. Another night here is not on my agenda.

  I moved in with my Grams when I was fourteen. Rarely would you see me venturing out of my house, much less the small town of Garwood where I grew up. A smile brightens my face as I think back to our talks at her dining table and her hopes that this day would come.

  “Ellie, promise me when you graduate high school, you’ll get out of here. You’ll do everything your father would've wanted for you and that I’ve hoped for you. Promise me you will no longer be held back by your fears and that you’ll follow your dreams.”

  I always knew I would have to go at some point; I just didn’t have the courage to leave her behind. She was the only person I had after my father passed away.

  It was nine days ago she, too, left me. You’d think after all the losses I’ve experienced I would be used to it by now, but laying her to rest was the hardest of them all.

  I decided it was time to make good on my promise. I knew if I didn’t, my past would eventually come crashing down around me. I’ve accepted no matter where I am, I will always feel like I’m looking over my shoulder. The fear of the day he’s released will always be there.

  “These bars will only protect you for so long, Ellie. When I get out of prison, I’ll find you. I’ll always find you.”