Tangling Hearts (Hearts Series Book 3)

by Faleena Hopkins

  I reach for the remote on the nightstand, press the button, and watch the blinds shut all three windows, holding back the soon-to-be rising dawn and the busy world.

  No more interruptions.

  Chapter Nine

  Rebecca

  Same Time: 4:00 A.M. Staring at: Tommy’s T-shirt. Obsession: what’s underneath

  He’s sleeping. I can tell by the rise and fall of his chest. I’m sure I can get away with a little peek. If I lift his shirt by by the neckline, I can see what’s going on. There’s clearly a square shape pushing through the fabric. Is it a bandage?

  My eyes flit up to his as my hand slowly comes up. Eyeing his left shoulder, holding my breath, I slowly move my hand over his chest, hovering above his neckline. With my index finger slipping down first, I hook it oh-so-gently under the cotton. Tommy’s right hand latches onto mine so fast that I gasp. His eyes, mere slits, look over at me. I stare at him, heart slamming in my chest.

  His grip tightens on my fingers.

  “I was just going to…” I stop as his eyes narrow more. “You’re hurting me, Tommy.”

  He shoves my hand away from him hard and fast, and my whole body sways with it, pushing me back. He leaps off the bed and goes for his pants. I lift up on my hands, locking my arms at the elbows, surprised. “You’re leaving?!”

  He checks his wallet and his phone, like I might have taken something or called someone. I stare at him, aghast. As if I would ever go through his wallet! But the memory of pulling Brendan’s phone from his jacket stops me cold from objecting, and my jaw drops as I realize I’ve been doing things I would never do!

  “You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he spits out.

  Defensively, my neck lengthens and I cock my chin proudly upward. “What? I was just going to put my hand on your chest to cuddle up to you.”

  He looks at me in disgust. “Really?! Women! Do you think we’re that stupid? Do you really think we don’t see what’s going on in your heads?” He gives his temple a couple swift taps with his finger. “That we don’t get it? Who started the wars, Rebecca? We did. Who strategized and conquered not only countries but entire continents? WE DID.” He laughs a cynical ugly laugh. “And you think we’re stupid! Don’t think you can outsmart men because you CAN’T.” He strides over to one of the wine glasses and slams it into the darkened fireplace, the glass shattering as I cringe, shocked. He turns to me, hatred in his eyes for my entire gender. “Jesus, I thought you were different. There’s only one thing you women offer us. The ONLY thing. And it’s not your brains, Rebecca. You think you’re all so fucking smart.”

  I stare with my mouth furiously shut. He glares back at me and strides over to grab up the other glass. He throws that one from where he stands, the glass flying across the room and shattering in the fireplace so loudly it echoes. I begin to shake, unable to control it.

  “You know why it’s not your brains, Rebecca? Because you pull STUPID SHIT. This?” He points to his shoulder. “This is my body. If I want to leave my fucking shirt on, I’ll leave it on. Ever heard of boundaries?!”

  “You just fucked me in the window with the whole world watching and you want to bring up boundaries??!”

  He laughs. “You wanted that, and you know it. You could have said no. Did you say no? Because I know I did! But you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

  I pull the comforter up around my chest. A banging from the room next door sounds near my head. “SHUT UP!” I yell at it, and turn to glare at Tommy again, afraid he’ll do something violent.

  But Tommy does worse than hit me. Instead he says something I will never be able to forget, ever. “I know why Brendan never fully claimed you. He saw the truth about you. You can’t be trusted.”

  I scream, “STOP IT!”

  He smiles ruthlessly. “That’s why I never even heard about you before that night I showed up there, unexpected. If I hadn’t come over, would I even know you existed? No way!”

  “STOP IT!!”

  “If I wasn’t at the baseball game, do you think he would have kissed you in front of everyone? He was doing that to make me jealous, because he knew I cared.” Tommy’s eyes slice into my heart as he yells, the veins popping out of his temples, “I FUCKING CARED ABOUT YOU!”

  The sting of tears slaps against my cheeks, and I sob, “Stop it.”

  “Go ahead and cry, Bec. You’re going to keep crying until you can learn to become a woman a man can trust.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  He walks to the bottle of wine, picks it up and heaves it into the fireplace, but the sound is dull now to the numbness that’s encasing my body from shock. Tossing a last hateful look back at me, he throws open the door and leaves.

  Wracking sobs rip out from my lungs. I bury my face in the pillow, pulling it tight around my head so I can scream. Minutes pass. A tentative knock at the door is heard, but I don’t move because I know it’s not Tommy. It was too gentle.

  A small female voice calls though the wood, “Mrs. Wells?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Wrenching the blankets off the bed, I jerk them around me, racing to the door to throw it open. “What? I’ll buy new wine glasses! They’re like what – ten bucks each? Leave me alone!”

  Just as I’m about to slam the door shut on her, she says, looking sad, “I guessed you turned him down then…”

  Flustered and confused, I grip the door, staring at her. “What are you talking about?!”

  “He said he was going to propose. I guess it didn’t go well. I’m so sorry.” She looks so earnest that I can’t help but burst out laughing.

  “He said that?! That’s hilarious! God, are you as naïve as you look?! Well, get ready honey, the world’s a fucked up place and there are no fairytale endings. Unless you count the ones where everyone dies at the end!”

  I slam the door shut on her and her innocence, plodding back to the bed to climb in and cry myself to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Tommy

  Keys: rattling. Feet: loud on the living room floor. Fear: unavoidable

  I walk in like I should be here, like it’s okay that I left, like I’m a grown man who can go where he wants. Predictably, the stomping at the top of the stairs makes it clear that Dad’s up, and he’s not happy. What else is fucking new?

  I look up and meet his eyes, not interested in the game but knowing I have to play.

  “What the fuck?! Did you leave?”

  So, that answers that. He didn’t know. I could have snuck back in. But this was smarter.

  “Yeah.” I lift up a bag of Jack in the Box in one hand, an extra large Dr. Pepper in the other, with the straw all bent and sucked on. “I was hungry for some grease.”

  He scowls, screening my face like a human foolproof lie detector. “I didn’t hear the garage door open.”

  “I took your truck.” Throwing him a sneaky grin, I add, “Had to see if I could get away with it.”

  He does his half-sneer, the one that says he gets it, that I haven’t fallen far from the tree. That he’s almost proud of me. Almost.

  “Fuckin’ kid.” He turns around and I head to the den thinking I’m in the clear and I can get some much needed sleep, but he stops me. “Hey!”

  Backward I step into his line of sight. “Yeah?”

  His chin jerks. “If you’re able to drive, you’re able to go back to work, and sleep in your own bed.”

  Staring up, I nod. “I’ll be out tomorrow.”

  “Go now.” His eyes are firm. “In your own piece of shit car. Keys are in the coffee-table drawer.”

  I take a sip of my soda, looking at him from underneath my brow. I let the sound slurp loud. Real loud, and release the straw with a snapping sound. “I love you, Dad.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I smirk. Break eye contact. Motherfucker wants to show he’s in control. That I can’t sneak out and win. He’s the boss. Not me. And I’d better never forget it. It’s pin-drop quiet as he watches me walk to the
coffee table for my keys. I slide the drawer open and pull them out, nice and slow. “Night, Dad,” I say, still smirking to cover up my hatred for the man as I walk toward the garage.

  His voice reaches me just before I’m out of earshot. “See you in six months—the Tiburon job.”

  I close the door, slowly listening to the click as the latch slides into place. Releasing the handle, my shoulders go lax, exhaustion taking over me. I don’t want to drive back over the bridge again. I just wanted to sleep, even if it was on the fucking couch.

  Lowering myself carefully into the scrubbed-clean seat of my BMW, I sit in the closed garage, turn the key and stay with the car running. I could let the fumes take everything away from me. Check out of here for good. Would I care? Is there anything after this? Would I know I died? Would I go to hell? If there’s a heaven, I doubt I’d be invited in. But maybe I would. Maybe that’s why Brendan survived, so I wouldn’t be a murderer and be locked out of the Pearly Gates for good.

  Turning on the radio, I lay my head back on the seat, thinking about what a good idea this is. My parents finding me in the morning. My dad’s face when he sees I finally got the last word. They’ll have to explain to the cops why I have a bullet-hole in my dead body. The cops would probably think it was my dad who did it. Would that be so bad?

  Let them think it was him.

  I smile, feeling sleepier…

  But maybe Dad would rat me out and say it was all because of Fuckhead Brendan that this happened, that I lost my cool. What am I asking maybe for? Dad would definitely rat me out, and then Brendan would know he got the drop on me all these years – that I couldn’t handle the heat.

  Fuck that shit.

  I step out of the car and hit the button on the wall, watching the street slowly coming into view, along with another day alive. I climb back in and drive away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Annie

  Dream: walking down a path. Wearing: a white dress and flowers in my hair. Eyes: fluttering open because someone’s looking at me.

  “What time is it?” I ask on a stretch, smiling at Brendan’s sleepy face. His hair is sticking up in funny places, and he looks crazy-adorable.

  “I have no idea,” he smiles, reaching to move a lock of hair from my cheek. “I closed the curtains sometime before dawn.”

  “Mmm.” Snuggling up to him, I kiss his shoulder and trace the angles of his collarbone, coming up to circle his Adam’s Apple with the tip of my finger. “I left my purse in the stadium.”

  He chuckles. “You mean my living room?”

  My eyebrows go up innocently. “You mean they don’t hold the World Series there? They could.”

  He laughs. With a firm kiss on the top of my head, he mumbles, “I don’t know what time it is, and I don’t care.”

  “I have to meet the contractor today.” My legs stretch out and I let my whole body follow, pulling away from him. “So let’s hope it’s still early so we can lie in bed some more and do filthy things to each other.” I climb out of his enormous bed and look over my shoulder to make sure he’s watching. He is, and when his eyes rise to meet mine, I grin. “You should see your face. Do you have a robe?”

  His hand languidly points to the door on the wall that stands between the bathroom and hallway doors.

  “Let me guess. You’ve got a closet the size of my apartment, too.”

  “I haven’t seen your apartment,” he says, behind me.

  Throwing him a flirty look, I call over, “Play your cards right and you just might get to.”

  His mouth spreads into a groggy grin, and he adjusts the pillow, both hands sliding under his head, his biceps flexed fan-fucking-tastically. “If I’m lucky…”

  “That’s right. If you’re…” I open the door. “HOLY SHIT!”

  He busts up laughing. “Jesus. You’re making me feel obnoxious.”

  His closet would make a male version of Martha Stewart cum in his pants at the sight. Dark wood. Floor-to-Ceiling shoe shelves. Middle island. A wall of ties sectioned off, and a high-end cubbyhole each filled with its own hat or cap. I grab a thick, navy blue cotton robe, slipping it on as I walk out. “Your baseball hats are spoiled. I bet when you bought them they thought they were going to be shoved in a gym bag with someone’s smelly shoes, not kept in a palace shrine to be bowed down to.”

  “The way your mind works.” He smirks. His eyes change and I see the hunger in them again. “My robe looks better on you.” His legs are sprawled out under the blanket – mountains of muscular length with a tent popped up where they meet.

  I have no choice but to walk to him and climb on top, the oversized robe impeding my progress but not enough to stop me. “Mmm…”

  “This is good. I like this.”

  “You like me straddling you like this, huh? I can’t imagine why…” I lean down and kiss him, and rise back up to adjust my legs, moving the robe up a little. “I think the blanket should get out of our way, too, don’t you?”

  He nods to one of the nightstands. “We should get a condom.”

  Mood: killed.

  Not because I don’t use condoms. I used them with Christiano until we decided we were exclusive and I went on the pill, which was in the first month of our meeting. That’s probably why I keep forgetting to use one; I haven’t in years. But now that Brendan’s brought it up, it just reminds me that we are most certainly not exclusive. He made it clear that’s not how he rolls.

  So I bend and kiss his forehead. “I need to make sure I’m not missing the meeting with my contractor.”

  As I walk barefoot to the door, he calls out, “We have to use one, Annie.”

  I flip around, surprised at the straight-on confrontation of what I was hoping to avoid. I touch the wall, looking at the perfect paint job. “I know. It’s okay. I just have to find out what time it is, that’s all.” I glance to see him somberly looking at me. “Brendan – I have no problem with condoms. I don’t want to get pregnant, that’s for sure.”

  I just have a problem with thinking of you sleeping with another woman. It dries me right up.

  “I can see it bothers you.”

  “We all want to go bareback, right? It threw me, yes. But it’s really okay. I just want to make sure we have enough time. I’ll be right back.” With my best reassuring smile, I turn and walk out the door, shutting it behind me so I can have a moment alone to handle my feelings. Loving someone who wants to see other people takes a great deal of patience, and I can only hope I’m up for the task.

  As I walk into the living room, everything is very still and quiet. I can’t even hear the hum of a refrigerator. I guess Mark must have gone to work. Walking up to the coffee table, I find our wrappers and take-out bags are gone. He must have cleaned the mess for us. That was considerate of him. I look towards the upstairs floor, thinking of how I underestimated Mark. I wonder if Tommy and Ross were nicer than I thought back then, too? God, I can still see the four of them walking across campus; Reservoir Hunks. Inaccessible to a misfit like me. And here I am now, wearing his robe and walking around their penthouse. I wish I could go back in time and tell my old self how things played out. Where’s a time machine when you need one?

  Pulling out my phone, I see another missed call from Christiano. Guilt sinks my heart, bringing my body with it collapsing onto the couch, staring at his name. I can’t call him now. Not only is Brendan in the other room, but it’s just after 10:00 a.m. I have to leave now.

  Sigh.

  I walk into the bedroom, the phone hanging from my hand, my spirits sunk. “Bad news. I have to go. It’s ten o’clock.”

  Brendan frowns and rises up on his elbows, wincing as his ribs bend. He adjusts for comfort. “What time are you supposed to meet him?”

  “Eleven.” Walking to him, I smile regretfully. “I’m sorry I don’t have more time. Me thinks I need a shower, to be presentable. And a change of clothes. I didn’t expect to be whisked off to your palace, my king,” I smile.

  He pushes off the
blanket. “I want to go.”

  “Oh.” I step back to give him room to get up, shocked. “Okay.” He didn’t ask if I want him to go, which is good. I think jumping up and down and shouting YES, would have stripped away the last bit of mystery I have left.

  “Just give me a minute.” He vanishes into the closet.

  A few minutes later, he’s locking up and I’m following him to the elevator. He pushes the button. “Last night and today? They’re the first times I’ve taken the elevator since we moved in.”

  “You take the stairs every time? Wow. I don’t know if I have that kind of discipline.”

  “You’re taking a Krav Maga class.”

  “True.” I smile, and turn my head to watch the numbers go down. I can feel him looking at me, so I glance sideways. “What?”

  One corner of his sexy mouth is turned up and his eyes are soft. “You’re beautiful, Annie. You’ve got no makeup on. No lipstick. Your hair’s messy, and---” He shrugs and smiles, turning to watch the buttons light ‘L’ for Lobby. “---you’re beautiful.” The doors open. “After you, Freckles.”

  A blush heats up my cheeks and neck as I walk out first. A flash of the party where I got wasted and Corinne got Brendan flies instantly into my mind. The way he looked over at me today and overlooked me then, it makes me a little angry. Walking to my car, I sneak a glance behind me to him, and he is unburdened by conflict, oblivious to how weird this all really is.

  We get in the car and drive to my place, without saying much. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m speechless. He’s looking out the window at the city zipping by, tapping his thumb on his thigh in time to the music, unaware that I’m wondering why things had to happen this way, because really… was I that undesirable just because my hair was dyed and I wore more makeup? Isn’t your soul mate supposed to recognize you? Or is it really timing that’s the key? Is it all these things put together? Why did I know, when I saw him? Is there even such a thing as soul mates, or is that just a product of people’s desire to think their perfect half exists, and if they find…