Divine Hart

by Heather Shere

  Preston walks over to me and sits beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders. “You didn’t think we would miss this part, did you?”

  “Jesus guys, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”

  Lea puts a box in my lap. “Here open this one first, it’s from me.”

  I carefully tear open the paper because I want to save it and use it in something to remember this night by. I lift the lid on the box and find that it’s filled with all the latest and greatest makeup.

  “Lea, this is fantastic!”

  “I figured you’d have none of your good makeup left.”

  “I don’t, I only have a few little things. Thank you, this is much needed.”

  She smiles as Craig hands me a card. I open it and read it to myself. He wrote me a touching message about how much he has missed me and there is a gift card for Macy’s inside.

  “Thank you, Craig.”

  He raises a beer and takes a long swig from the bottle. Shaina then hands me a package, wrapped in different shades of purple. Opening it, I gasp. It’s a leather bound journal. The smell of the new leather fills my nose. Then I see my name engraved into the leather front.

  “This is beautiful, Shaina. Thank you.”

  “It reminded me of you. I thought you could use it for writing songs or something.”

  I open the journal and press my fingers into the indentation of my name. I don’t know why I never thought of writing my songs down. Or writing period. It takes me a moment to swallow past the lump in my throat.

  “Thanks, Shaina, I think I’ll start doing just that.”

  The last box is the smallest and Preston hands it to me. My heart starts hammering in my chest because the box is the size of a ring box. He wouldn’t, we aren’t there yet.

  “You already gave me my gift,” I argue.

  Preston shrugs like this is of no relevance. “And now I’m giving you another one. You should probably get used to it.”

  I open the lid on the box, almost afraid to look.

  “Go ahead and look, Skye, there’s nothing to freak out over in there,” Preston says with a laugh.

  I narrow my eyes at him. Damn him for knowing me so well. Lifting the lid, I see a copper guitar pick. I take it out and study it. It’s engraved with a flowy heart. I pause as grief over the loss of my guitar hits me.

  “It’s so you think about me when you play,” Preston says softly next to me.

  “Thank you, I love it.”

  “There’s a but in there somewhere, isn’t there?”

  I bite my lower lip, feeling guilty for spoiling his thoughtful gift. “It’s just…I don’t have a guitar anymore.”

  He takes my hand in his. Oh God, if he gets down on one knee I just might vomit all over him.

  “Craig?” His eyes are focused behind me.

  “It’s all set, Preston,” Craig replies.

  Huh? What’s all set? Preston stands up and guides me up with him. “Come with me, Detka.” He walks me across the living room and out through the sliding glass doors and I stop in my tracks.

  “Where are we going?” The last time we went into where his mother lived was the day she passed away. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to go in there and pack up some of her things.

  “My Mama loved it here,” he tells me. “She loved you and having you here. She would have wanted you to have this. Come look.” He gently tugs my hand and opens the door.

  I take a step into the doorway and gasp. I feel Preston’s hands on my shoulders as I look into this amazing room.

  “When did you have time to do this?” I ask, amazement clear in my voice. The room has totally been transformed from an extra living space to a recording studio. A white baby grand piano has centerstage and a new guitar is leaning up against it.

  “It took a little working out, but we were able to sneak workers in. Do you like it?” he whispers in my ear.

  “How can I not?”

  “Go look at the guitar.” He guides me with a hand at my lower back.

  Liliya’s carpets are gone, the room now hardwood floors, and pretty floral paintings are on the walls. It’s pristine, with clean lines and warm accents. Walking up, I run my hand along the piano and pick up the acoustic guitar, this one way better the junk piece I had broken in Hollywood.

  I strum my fingers over the strings and find that he’s had it tuned. I examine the pearl inlay of the neck, and up to the headstock where I see “Detka” engraved. He didn’t spare any expense as I notice all the tuning hardware is also custom made with scrolling lines.

  “I’m speechless,” I whisper.

  “Is that good?” Preston asks from the doorway.

  “Of course it’s good,” Lea says, smacking Preston’s arm.

  “Thank you, really this means so much to me.” I set the guitar down and walk over to Preston and wrap my arms around his waist. I hug him so damn tight. He doesn’t hesitate and returns the hug and kisses the top of my head.

  “Okay you lovebirds, can we get this party rolling? We all know if Skye starts tinkering with her new toys in here, we won’t see her the rest of the night.”

  I roll my eyes. “Let’s go, I can come in here tomorrow.”

  We all head back into the main house, Preston and I walking side by side, holding hands. It really takes me back to when we first met, he still can make me feel like jelly and fireworks. “Thank you,” I whisper just for him and he grins.

  Preston lets go of my hand when we get back inside the house and he and Craig do another shot. “Za zdaróvye,” Preston says as they tip them back, this time Craig wheezes after it.

  “Shit, Preston, what the fuck was that one? It was sweet at first then burned like hell.”

  Preston laughs. “Bread wine, we should really be sipping it and not knocking it back.”

  Lea is grabbing the microphone from Robbie and she nods her head signaling that she’s ready for the song to start. That reminds me to flip through the book again to find a fun song.

  The song starts with a thunder crack and I frown trying to place it, the second she starts singing, my eyes open wide and I don’t know If I should laugh or have her committed. Probably both if I’m being honest. She starts belting out the chorus and I crack up. She’s singing “It’s Raining Men,” while looking at both Harrison and Robbie in turn. She is playing with fire but thankfully she has given me a great idea.

  I quickly thumb through the songs and find the one I was looking for. I almost giggle. I write the song down and have to keep myself from skipping to Robbie. I get to him just as the song is coming to a close.

  “Craig’s up next,” Robbie says.

  I see Craig lean down and whisper into Preston’s ear. He shakes his head and starts laughing. They’ve been knocking back the shots non-stop. It’s evident they’re a bit tipsy, but we have enough rooms for everyone to stay the night, so we don’t have to worry about them driving home.

  We…us…home…it’s coming more naturally by the day and I should be freaked out but I just feel happy.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I groan as Craig starts belting out “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!”

  Shaina claps her hands like a baby seal, laughing her ass off and smacking Craig’s ass as he struts by her. The minute the song is over, Shaina jumps up and grabs the microphone. She’s usually so serious and worried about her public image that she rarely lets loose, but she starts singing right in front of Craig and his mouth drops as she sings “I Kissed a Girl.”

  I bust out laughing. The look on his face is priceless as she sings as dances in front of him. I want to see if Preston is going to sing. Once she is done Robbie looks to me, since he has my song, and I subtly shake my head, indicating that he should ask Preston first.

  “Harrison? Preston?” he asks.

  Harrison immediately shakes his head and Robbie rolls his eyes thinking he’s got one over on his competitor.

  “I’m a lover not a singer,” Preston replies, lifting his glass of
whiskey and silently toasting us.

  “I’ll go.” I giggle, barely containing myself as I walk over to Robbie.

  “You’re a pretty funny lady, Skye.” Robbie laughs as he hands me the mic.

  The music starts and I close my eyes getting myself into performance mode. I don’t need to look at the monitor to know the words. I’m a huge fan of the band’s music and have listened to it enough I could even play it on the piano. The opening notes of “Death of a Bachelor” start playing and I start to sing. Changing a word here and there, Preston looks like he’s about to choke on his drink, while Craig shoots his through his nose. I keep singing with a straight face and sit down in Preston’s lap as I sing about the demise of his bachelorhood.

  When the second the song is over, both Shaina and Lea squeal with laughter. Preston hugs me laughing.

  “You are trouble, Detka,” he whispers and nips my earlobe.

  “It’s one of my charms.”

  Karaoke was over from that point on, the rest of the night was spent just chilling out and it felt damn good being with my friends again. I don’t know why I was so hesitant about hanging out with everyone, it’s like we were never apart.

  Robbie didn’t drink, so he drove Harrison and Lea home at the end of the night and Craig and Shaina stayed over.

  “Preston, that was the best party ever!” I tell him as I fall back onto the bed, exhausted.

  He crawls on top of me. “I’m so glad you had a good time. It was fun.”

  I run my fingers through his hair and stare up into his glossy eyes.

  “Detka,” he slurs on top of me with his whiskey breath.

  “You’re drunk, Preston.” I withhold the giggle that’s about to erupt.

  “Detka, there are ninety-six words for love. How about we flip those numbers and I show you how I feel?”

  I bust out laughing. He begins scooting down my body as I laugh and lays his head on my stomach. He stills and seconds later, loud snores vibrate on my belly.

  Twenty-Three

  I wake with a start, my eyes popping open in a sudden alert stare. I listen to the silence of the house trying to think what could have disturbed my sleep. It takes a few moments to confirm that nothing is wrong. Skye’s sleeping in my arms and softly snoring. It’s cute, she doesn’t think she snores.

  The muscles in my back are cramping up and my head is pounding, so I slide away from Skye, putting a pillow in my place. She grumbles and then snores into the pillow. I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen up some. This happens sometimes when I overexert myself. Shaina examined me when I came home, ran a series of tests on me to see if I had any torn ligaments or tendons. The results showed I just have scar tissue and it will probably never go away.

  With each pull of my stiff muscles I fight not to get lost in the past. I walk down the hall and softly close the door behind me. I need to give Harrison a quick call. I punch his number in from memory and the phone rings a couple times before he answers.

  “This’d better be good, Preston, it’s six am and some asshole had me doing shots last night…” he groans into the phone.

  Quietly, since the rest of the house is silent, I chuckle, scrubbing a hand over my face and wincing at my hangover. Sucks to be him today if he feels like this. “Where are we with the plan?”

  Harrison groans. “Same place we were when I saw you five hours ago.”

  “Well then, rise and shine. I want things happening today.”

  “You’re a sick bastard, Preston,” he mutters, but I can hear him getting up, which is what I wanted.

  As Harrison grumbles in my ear, a sleepy Skye comes shuffling into my office with one of my shirts on, her curls wild and all over the place. She gives me a sleepy smile and comes right over. I twist around in the chair and she climbs up in my lap. I cradle her as she rubs her temples, fighting to keep her eyes open.

  “Call me when you have the next update,” I tell Harrison and hang up the phone. It’s a pet peeve of his, but I get a little thrill out of hanging up on him each and every time I do it.

  “Delivery problems again?” she asks in a sleepy voice.

  “Something like that.” I shift, my muscles tensing again.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “My back’s a little sore today, it’s nothing. Do you want to go back to bed?” I shift her again.

  She frowns and sits up, then slides off my lap. “Is it your scars? Maybe I can rub it out.”

  “It’s okay, a dip in the pool should help work it out.” I’m usually good about putting a shirt on first thing in the morning so that she doesn’t have to see them, but I thought I would be in the pool and out again before she even woke. “Why are you awake so early?” I ask her softly, she has been doing well at sleeping in when I get out of bed.

  She shrugs her shoulders. “I woke up.”

  The way she shrugged it off has me curious. “Detka, look at me.”

  “Yes, Preston?”

  “Tell me why you’re awake,” I ask gently

  She swallows then says, “I had a nightmare.”

  “Has anything happened in the last few days to trigger that?” As soon as I say the words, I remember her father’s visit.

  “My father, you know he always triggers them.”

  “You know he can’t get to you here, right?” I ask as she climbs from my lap.

  “Yeah, old habits.” She shrugs. “Now, let me see if I can help your back.” She rubs her hands together and has this cute little grin on her face.

  I feel my muscles tighten and I try not to wince in pain, but now that she knows the details of my ordeal, it was only a matter of time before she would want to try and help me.

  “Maybe straddle the chair?” she says, looking around the room for an alternative and coming up short.

  I stand up and grab her hand. “I have the perfect place, come on.”

  “Where are we going?” she asks, following me out of the office.

  “My gym.”

  “I’ve been keeping away from this room like the plague.” She giggles.

  “Really, why?”

  “Exercise? Come on. Preston, I hate working out.”

  “You’re missing out,” I tell her.

  The sound of our bare feet slapping against the tile floor echoes off the walls as we approach and I open the door for her, ushering her inside. “Welcome to my sanctuary.” I smirk.

  She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out. She slowly closes her mouth and with a pleasantly shocked look on her face she glances at me and then back to the room. I place my hand at the small of her back and apply gentle pressure, encouraging her to go in.

  I watch Skye’s face as she takes it all in.

  “Holy shit, Preston. You’ve been holding out on me,” she gasps, eyeing the jacuzzi and beyond it, the steam room and sauna. The room is also filled with the best workout equipment and weights I could find and a massage and therapy area for those times when working out isn’t helping and I have to call my masseuse.

  The full sliding glass doors open up into the backyard when it’s hot. I keep them closed and the air on, which is why she’s never seen in here before. The windows are tinted for privacy.

  “Do you like it, Detka?” Her face says she loves it, but I want to hear her tell me. I know it’s just a workout room but this is where I find my peace of mind and work off my anger.

  “It’s awesome!” she says in awe.

  I chuckle while I sit on the table with my back facing her. “Is that back rub still in the cards?” I watch her reaction in the mirrors on the other side of the room.

  She takes one more look around then turns toward me and looks at my back. “Of cou—” The rest of her sentence is cut off as she stares at me, not at my face but my back.

  It takes all my willpower not to stiffen and go in search of a shirt. It’s not that she hasn’t seen glimpses, I don’t exactly hide it. But now that it’s all out in the open I feel more exposed somehow. I watch over my s
houlder as her mouth presses into a thin angry line. The silence drags on, and she hasn’t taken her eyes off my back. It’s scarred fairly well, but it isn’t disfigured. Her eyes scan all of the old wounds and finally stop just below my shoulder. The scarring on the outside looks bad, but it is those muscles underneath that pain me and tighten up.

  “God this pisses me off. I want to knock those two bastards’ heads together.”

  Her touch is featherlight as she follows each scar with her fingertips.

  “It was a long time ago, Skye.” Her fingers still trail along my back, her touch so soft and light, comforting. Thoughts of her are what got me through that time.

  Her lips press into my shoulder where my muscles twitch and burn. I watch her in the mirror, the sight would bring me to my knees if I were standing. She has an enraged look on her face, yet her lips are soft. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and she lifts her head and says in my ear, “I could kill them for this.”

  She walks around the table and bends down in front of me. I cradle her face in my hands. “They have made things right, Skye. It wasn’t their fault.”

  “Well someone needs to pay. I want to find the person who sent you there and kill them with my bare hands.” She’s breathing hard just at the thought.

  I stroke her face, softly. “I’ll get my revenge, Detka. You don’t need to get your hands dirty.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, but I take full advantage of my position and capture her lips in a swift kiss. When I pull away she has a glazed look in her eyes and it doesn’t escape my notice that she is wearing just a t-shirt. I have to chant to myself down boy, down boy, down boy. I’m trying to take things slow and when it finally happens, I don’t want to give her a school boy quickie romp. I’m no two pump chump.

  I push her up off my lap before I cave and smile innocently. “How about that massage?” Not waiting for a response, I give her my back. She doesn’t waste any time and starts working my shoulders out. Her fingers go straight into the knot, and I grunt in pain and hold my breath waiting for her to release the muscle. Christ, is she digging her knuckle into it?