Shattered Heart: A Single Dad Romantic Suspense

by Lara Norman

  People said Devon’s name. Their voices grew frantic with every repetition, but he liked it there in his void. It welcomed him, held him, and offered succor to his shattered heart. He used to think he was strong. He’d had his entire life planned in a way which made him happy. He worked hard to fulfill his dreams, only to have them cruelly snatched away. No, he didn't want to wake up. He wanted to remain where he was with his corroded soul and heart of stone.

  Pretty soon, the realization hit him that he didn't have the luxury of hiding as he heard more and more voices calling to him. He couldn't let his mother suffer because he wanted to retreat from reality. He couldn't imagine how she had taken the news. He heard Lori, teary-eyed and apologetic as usual. He wished she would realize he didn't blame her. John was talking, telling them to back off and give everyone space. Devon remembered the phone call he’d had with John earlier in the day and felt a fresh wave of agony. He moaned, doubling over as the kick-in-the-stomach feeling grew more pronounced.

  “Come on, Devon, everyone is worried about you.” Devon recognized Chief Hemsworth’s voice.

  “Has he been arrested?” Devon croaked out.

  “As we speak.”

  With a last goodbye to the life he once knew, he opened his eyes. The muted light of the overcast day was a blessing. He blinked several times and focused on Rebecca Hemsworth.

  “I couldn't let him get away with it. I couldn't.” Even to his own ears, he sounded like a petulant child.

  “I know, Mr. McMillan.”

  Devon wiped his face as he realized he was crying. Sitting up and discovering he was still on the muddy ground, he zeroed in on the deputy speaking to the traitor as he stood there in handcuffs.

  Chief Hemsworth walked away to speak to the crowd, and John remained with Devon. It didn't go unnoticed by Devon that John blocked his view. “I can’t believe it was him.”

  John snorted. “It’s always the ones closest to us who we least suspect.”

  With those words, Devon realized his entire foundation was shaken. Who could he trust? How could he trust? “What did he have to say for himself?”

  John sighed. “Look, Devon. You need medical attention. Let us load you into an ambulance and transport you to the hospital. Your family wants to talk to you, and I know you want to get back to Hailey.”

  “No. No ambulance, no treatment. No family.”

  “No family? Devon—”

  “I said no family!” he shouted. He didn't have it in him to face any of them. What would they say? Would they blame him for not seeing it coming? Was it his fault?

  In placation, John put his hands up. “Okay, I hear you. You don't want to see Hailey looking like that, though.”

  Devon looked down at himself. His knuckles were bloody. A mixture of blood and mud stained his sweatshirt, and the hem had a tear. Again, he felt like a child. “I’ll go home and change.”

  John spoke tactfully. “You and I need to have a talk, yeah?”

  Devon looked at John in surprise. He was in his uniform, including a thick black jacket with the embroidered J. Hurley on one side. It was an official talk, then. “Okay. Can it be at my house?”

  “Sure, Devon. You don’t strike me as a flight risk, but I’ll drive you over, anyway.”

  Carefully, Devon stood. His bones ached. On second thought, he wasn't a child; he was ancient and moldy. Crime scene tape surrounded the parking lot which was full of the curious, the officials, and his family; what was left of them. His mother cried almost hysterically, holding onto Lori as they supported each other. Lori was a mess. Devon felt sorry for her.

  “I don't want to speak to them, but I don’t want them to worry about me.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Devon.” John walked to the line of bright yellow tape and spoke quietly to the McMillan women. They cried harder, and Lydia kept her gaze on her son.

  Devon had to lower his head. He couldn't look at her. Feelings of guilt engulfed him once more.

  When John came for him, he led Devon to his official car and let him slide in the front. They didn't exchange small talk on the way, and the sergeant didn't begin an interrogation on such a short drive. They pulled in front of the modest two-story in Robin’s egg blue, and Devon stared at the white shutters, suddenly realizing why he’d felt so uncomfortable there earlier. It was a logical reaction, all things considered. Only so many ghosts could fit in one building before it felt haunted.

  The two men went inside the house. John sat at the kitchen table while Devon jogged upstairs to take a shower. He was quick about it, conscious of the other man’s time. He saw the bag he’d packed earlier and took it downstairs with him, making a pot of coffee and staring out the back window as it brewed.

  “I’m selling the house.”

  “Oh?”

  “I can’t stand the thought of him being in here. It makes my skin crawl. I won’t bring Hailey back here.”

  “Where will you live?” John glanced at the yellow notepad in front of him, though he wasn’t taking notes just yet.

  “I don't know anymore. I thought I might move in with my parents until I could find something else, but I just don't know. Everything I thought I knew is a lie.”

  “What happened, Devon?”

  Contemplating the gently asked question, Devon turned to retrieve mugs from the cabinet and fill them. He set one in front of John and sat across from him with the other. “I went to the hospital first.” He rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth. “I had to confirm she was okay. There was a guard on the door, and Chloe was inside the room.”

  “And you went in, spoke to Chloe?” John prompted as he wrote.

  “Yeah. I told her you knew who it was, but I didn't say anything else. I couldn't even form the words.” There was silence as Devon thought about what happened after that. It was very blurry. “I ran.” He looked down at his busted hands and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t remember everything. I just knew I needed to check the truck you mentioned. I wanted to see for myself.”

  “And what did you find?”

  Tears slipped down Devon’s face. “Hailey’s hair clip from the day she went missing. It was in the bed of the truck under a leaf.” When Devon picked up the mug, it shook.

  “And then?”

  “I know who drives that truck the most. I knew what you’d said. I couldn't—I didn't—”

  “Breathe, Devon. In and out.”

  Devon thumped his fist to his chest, tear-streaked eyes meeting John’s. “How could he?”

  “I don't know yet. He wasn't very forthcoming with answers.”

  Devon’s breath left him in a whoosh. “I don’t care what you have to do to me. I know I was in the wrong.”

  “Devon, I don’t think anyone wants to prosecute you.” John tapped his pen on his pad. “You messed his face up pretty good. It’s a good thing Chloe called her mom on her way there.”

  “I wanted to kill him.” Still do.

  “Obviously, I can't let you do that.”

  Devon snorted. “Obviously.”

  “You were in shock, Devon. You suffered a trauma. I sincerely doubt any court would find you guilty should I feel the need to arrest you.” John jotted something down and both men jumped at the pounding on the door.

  “Let me get that,” John said in a warning tone.

  Devon followed John out of the kitchen. The pounding was harder by then, and John held an arm out to keep Devon behind him. Looking through the door scope, he sighed heavily.

  “You need to keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

  Devon raised an eyebrow. “Who is it?”

  John shot him a look and opened the door.

  Devon gasped. “Anna!”

  “I want him arrested!” She directed her shouting at John, but pointed at Devon. “Did you see what he did to my husband?”

  “Ma’am, lower your voice.”

  “Don’t tell me to lower my voice! Why haven't you arrested him yet? I’ve had a dozen phone calls in the last half
hour from people telling me he attacked my husband unprovoked!” Everything about her was indignant, from her body language to the tone of her voice.

  Devon seethed silently, desperate to unleash some of his anger on Vince’s wife. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but he was trying to abide by John’s orders.

  “Mrs. Buckley, you need to leave. You’re on private property. If you wish to discuss the matter of your husband’s case, you may go to the station and speak to someone there.”

  That seemed to deflate her entirely. “His case? What case? What are you talking about? Why does Vince have a case, but Devon doesn’t?”

  Devon closed his eyes. He had a feeling Anna was in the dark, but it was hard to know. With his trust smashed to pieces, he was no longer certain of anything.

  John sighed. “I can repeat my previous statement if necessary.”

  Anna gaped at the two of them, tears coming to her eyes. Covering her open mouth with her hand, she glared at Devon and turned to go. After they watched her make it down the front walk to her car, John shut the door.

  “All the time he spent with me. The times he came here and collected the stuff the neighbors left. Helping us search for her when he knew exactly where she was, for Christ’s sake. He grieved with me, or pretended to. He knew I feared she was dead, and he never said a fucking word.”

  “I can’t pretend to understand how you feel, Devon, but I can assure you, when all is said and done, those actions will weigh against him.”

  They went back to the kitchen and dumped out what was left of their lukewarm coffee. An unnamed feeling sat in Devon’s gut. It was a pebble at first, the kernel of emotions all mixed up to make him feel nauseated. It had grown over the course of the day until it became a marble slab weighing him down. The events of the day, the thought that someone he had loved like a brother could betray him in such a brutal manner, gutted him. Why in God’s name would Vince want to harm Hailey? With no request for ransom, it hadn’t been for financial gain. Devon was positive he’d never treated Vince as anything other than his dearest friend, his surrogate brother. Jealousy didn’t make sense. So why?

  “Want me to take you back to Merrimac Valley Hospital?”

  Devon jumped as John spoke. His mind had been a million miles away. “Uh, sure.”

  On the ride, he stared out the car window, thinking about where to go from there. He had no clue what he was doing with his life anymore. Everything had fallen apart. Whatever he touched turned to shit until he was left with next to nothing. Hailey didn't deserve to suffer because of his shortcomings. How would he nurture her, raise her, when he was terrified of fucking her up more than she already had been? If his mere presence was the catalyst for disaster, then where did he fit in?

  He was afraid the answer was nowhere.

  He thanked John for the ride and walked calmly into the building that felt like his second home. He took the elevator up to the correct floor and wondered how many family members he’d have to face. He didn't have the right words for what they would surely ask. How could he answer questions when he had so many of his own?

  “Devon.”

  Stopping, he waited for her to catch up without turning around. Coming to a stop beside him and merely standing there, Chloe reminded him how low the circumstances had brought him. He wished he could suck up her strength through osmosis. For a second, he wanted to physically lean on her for support, but he straightened his spine and looked at her expectantly.

  “I wanted to apologize in case I overstepped.”

  “No, you were right.” He looked into her dark brown eyes and saw the sincerity. But Vince had looked sincere, too. “I shouldn’t have attacked him.”

  “I thought you were really going to kill him.” Her voice was soft, her head tilted and her hands clasped in front of her. Earnest was the word he would use to describe her.

  “I was.”

  Devon walked away from her to face whoever waited for him in his daughter’s room. It suddenly felt like a firing squad instead of his loving family. The thought of facing them made him queasy, and suddenly he wanted them all gone.

  He became aware Chloe was following him. He let her catch up and then decided he might as well ask for what he wanted. “Can you tell them all to leave?”

  “Who?”

  “My family.”

  He saw the frown flit across her features. “There’s nobody there but Frank at the door. I was in there until she fell asleep, and then I went down the hall for a bathroom break and a cup of coffee.”

  “Oh.” He paused in front of the security guard. “This time I have my license.” He fished it out of his wallet and handed it over.

  “You’re good, sir.”

  Devon pushed open the door and didn't complain when Chloe followed. She’d saved his ass enough times he couldn't find it in him to protest.

  Hailey was sleeping, as Chloe had said. She was on her side, not her favorite position, and Devon wondered why she would choose to sleep like that.

  “Her leg was bothering her. The nurse propped it with a few pillows and she found more comfort on her side.”

  As though his heart could still break, Devon felt a sharp pain in his chest at the thought of Hailey’s broken hip and how much pain she must have been in. He sank into the chair nearest the bed, the recliner he’d claimed from the first day, and bowed over his daughter’s hand. He wanted to cry; he felt the sting in his eyes, but there was nothing left in him. Nothing but a mountain of grief, and he was too debilitated to scale it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Devon couldn't leave Hailey. Everything had gone to hell the last time he left, and he wouldn't make that mistake again. He was on a steady rotation of babysitters once more, but he was finding it difficult to speak to any of them. Nothing they said would change what they’d gone through, or that someone they loved had broken their trust.

  “Honey, it isn't your fault,” Lydia had said.

  “We've got to lean on each other to get through this,” Don told him.

  “I'm here for you, brother, whatever you need.”

  Lori was the only silent presence. She wept as she sat with Devon and Hailey. He felt the weight of her guilt as his own. She didn't see what happened. She didn't notice Hailey slip out. She felt responsible. Anna was her best friend, and she’d missed whatever signs pointed to Vince being unstable.

  All of this, he understood. It was etched in his skull, tattooed on his brain. Guilt was a constant companion. It gnawed on his intestines and twisted them up in knots until it was all he could feel. He jumped at every noise, looked over his shoulder more often than he should, and he didn't trust anyone to be completely honest. Everyone had an agenda, even if it was relatively innocent. Maybe their agenda was nothing more than looking out for themselves or their spouse. Maybe their agenda was to get through the day without seeing Devon break down. Or maybe their agenda was something more sinister, something hidden deep down that was waiting to come out at the most inopportune time. It was a second entity clinging to their skin, camouflaged by acts of kindness. He couldn't be sure. The same people were in his life day after day, minus the two he hoped to never see again, and yet he viewed them all as strangers now.

  His daughter was the only human he felt connected to, the only one too innocent to betray him. To her he clung with every breath he had left in his worn out body. Hailey was making great strides, and he was hopeful she would be released soon. Since he’d vowed never to go back to the house Vince had made himself at home in, he had no choice but to stay with his parents in the interim. It would be the most beneficial choice for Hailey, and he would swallow any and all discomfort if it was what was best for her. He needed to make plans for her physical therapy soon, but for now he just watched her heal with a smile on his face. She was the only light in his life.

  Two weeks after the revelation of who was at fault for Hailey’s disappearance, Lori went into labor. Devon wasn’t planning on being there for the labor and delive
ry portion, but he’d always assumed he would visit with them as soon as the baby was born. Leaving Hailey wasn’t an option, making him feel incredibly torn, but Chloe stepped in and made a suggestion which changed everything.

  “Why don’t we ask the nurse if Hailey can ride in a wheelchair over to the maternity wing? Surely, she wants to see her new cousin.”

  By the time they got permission and let the medical staff load her up, Hailey was exhausted but excited to see Aunt Lori and Uncle Caleb’s baby daughter. Lydia was sweating but beaming proudly as she opened the door and ushered them into the room. She kissed Hailey’s cheek as she thanked Chloe and pushed her granddaughter over to the bed where Lori was sitting up with the baby in her arms. Lydia rubbed hand sanitizer into Hailey’s good hand as they talked about germs and the baby’s health. Devon washed up before standing with his brother on the opposite side of the bed from their mother and Hailey.

  “Did you name her Maisie?” he asked Caleb. It was the name at the top of their list, but they swore it would depend on how they felt when they saw her for the first time.

  “We did. It’s the perfect name for her.” Caleb grinned so wide Devon felt a pang of jealousy as he remembered the euphoria of Hailey’s birth.

  “Meet your cousin Maisie,” Lori was saying to Hailey. They had pushed the wheelchair parallel to the bed so they could face each other.

  “She’s so tiny,” Hailey said. She touched the back of Maisie’s hand with her fingertips.

  “You were that small, too, bug.” Lydia's face was flushed. “All babies are relatively small when they’re born.”

  “And you borned her, Grandma?” Hailey asked with a wrinkled forehead.

  Lydia tried somewhat successfully not to laugh. “Actually, Aunt Lori borned her. I just helped.”

  “Because you’re a baby doctor.” Hailey grinned, inexplicably proud of her grandma.

  “That’s right.” Lydia winked at Lori as she laughed.