Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (2 page)

Our dinners pretty much always end up the same. Nelson and Lil sitting down talking shop, and Chris and I blasting the stereo and singing karaoke. Nelson is the designated driver tonight; at their place, Lil is. Chris and I love to make fools of ourselves. Lil joins in sometimes, but only when I need cheering up. Not that I’ve needed any cheering up for a while.

I’ve got the girl of my dreams, and I’m happy.

Lil doesn’t move from her chair. She just sits back, enjoying the spectacle Chris and I are making. We’re singing into our beer bottles, putting on our little dinner theater.

The song ends and “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol comes on. Chris dims the lights, then runs into the dining room, reaching for Nelson. Like Lil, he doesn’t move, so Chris plops herself right on his lap and starts singing to him.

As Nelson embraces his wife, Lil looks away. Sometimes I wish she’d let others see the girl I see. Slowly, I walk toward her.

“Hey.”

She glances up as I offer my hand. For a second I don’t think she’ll take it, because Nelson and Chris are here, but she does.

Pulling her with me into the living room, I press her against me. Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I close my eyes and breathe her in.

I want to freeze this moment. Lil in my arms.

She’s mine for eternity.

“Would you lie with me, and just forget the world?” Slowly swaying with her pressed tightly against me, I whisper the lyrics, more to myself than anything.

She answers so quietly I almost miss it.

“I would.”

I raise my head and stare into those beautiful, whiskey eyes that make my heart sing every time they gaze at me.

I’m drunk on her. Drunk on love. Drunk on lust.

“Can we kick them out so I can
lie
with you right here, right now?”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck. “No, that would be rude.”

I smile down at her. I love her so much. That’s all right. I’ll wait.

Once the song is over, Chris turns the lights back on.

“All right, break it up! I challenge you, Tom Colton, to a Lip-sync battle!” Chris announces to the apartment like there’s fifty people around. She’s an even bigger goofball than normal when she drinks, if that’s even possible. Not that I need any encouragement to play along.

“Challenge accepted! You’re going down, Christina Nelson!”

Lil chuckles and shakes her head. “Well, that’s my cue.”

قلب

Competition is fierce. Chris and I have done one solo each and now it’s the tiebreaker: a duet.

I beat Chris again, and she wants a do-over. She screams for Lil to join us, but Lil waves her off. I offer Chris the best two out of three rounds, so we start over. We’re blasting the stereo full volume, while Nelson and Lil have retreated to the kitchen, probably because we’re being too loud.

I hear Lil yell something about the neighbors, and that’s when the night goes from hit to shit in less than a minute.

I’m laughing, enjoying my life, when I glance over and spot her—Lil, standing frozen in the entryway, the front door wide open.

“Lil, what is it?” I ask, but she doesn’t respond. She takes a step back and sways. “Lil!” I scream, but I’m too late.

She goes down hard, and my world turns upside down.

CHAPTER 2

Ileana

Three faces stare down at me.

Will’s at the door
.
Shit
!

“Where is he?” I get up, pushing everyone aside.  

My head is aching, but otherwise—physically, at least—I feel all right. The front door is still open, and Nelson is just coming back in. I hear Tommy and Chris talking but I don’t care what they’re saying. I only care about Will.

“Where did he go?” I ask Nelson. “Did he take off?”

“Harper, if there was someone out there, they’re gone,” he says. “I even checked the entire floor. There’s no one.”

What does he mean? Will was right here. He must have taken off.

Tommy keeps talking, hovering, and so does Chris.

“I’m fine.” I need to find Will. “Did you see who was at the door?” I ask all three of them, but they just glance at each other like I’m nuts.
No way.

“Did. You. See. Him?” I ask, forcefully. “You
did
hear the knock on the door, didn’t you, Nelson?”

The damn music is still playing. Now I’m pissed, and in agent mode. I race to the stereo, shutting the music off, then face all three. They’re still staring at me like I’m not supposed to be up and walking around for some reason.

“What?”

They’re just standing there, all wearing that familiar expression. Pity. Tommy knows damn well how I feel about pity.

“Lil, you’re bleeding.” He points to my brow.

I didn’t even feel it. The corner of my eyebrow is cut. I must have hit it on the floor.

I wipe away the blood with my forearm. I’ve got more important things to worry about. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Chris heading toward the hall bath, probably to fetch the first aid kit.

I try to focus. “You did hear the knocking? Nelson, did you take a good look at him?”

Nelson wallows in hesitation. By his expression, I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.

“I didn’t really hear a knock. I just saw you head over and open the door. There was no one there.”

He’s looking straight at me. Not with pity, but honesty. He’s a thinker like me. No way had I imagined it, but Nelson continues. “They must have taken off, maybe some kids screwing around.”

I take a deep breath, and notice Tommy hovering.

“I’m fine.” My tone is low and cautious.

He knows what I’m saying. He backs off, running his hands through his hair. He’s beyond frustrated. He’s been so patient with me. I haven’t been the best of company since my incident. And it appears I’m hallucinating. As if the nightmares weren’t enough.

I can’t talk to anyone about this and it’s eating me up inside, taking my sanity one little morsel at a time. Soon there will be nothing left of me but a hollow shell. At this pace, I’ll be in some psych ward at the mercy of others in no time.

I know what I need to do. I pull a page from Sophia’s playbook.
Three. Two. One.

“I’m sorry guys, I can’t hold my liquor like I used to.” I smile apologetically.

Chris smiles and starts tending to my eye. I hadn’t even noticed they managed to direct me to one of the dining room chairs.

“Thanks, Chris. I’m sorry I scared you.” I give her a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, honey. Maybe it’s too much too soon.”

It’s not. This is what I need, to work and keep busy. No way am I going back on medical leave.

“Seriously, I don’t know what happened. I thought I heard banging. I guess it was just the music.”

They’re still watching me, but Nelson and Chris seem more at ease. Not Tommy, though, he’s not biting. He knows better. He’s leaning on the kitchen counter, strong arms crossed, and his jaw muscles twitching.

Nelson looks at his wife. “Honey, let’s call it a night. I have an early day tomorrow.”

I shoot Nelson a grateful smile.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Chris won’t leave unless I make it convincing.

“Good as new. It’s not deep, right?” She’s managed to stop the bleeding and cover the minor cut with a butterfly bandage.

“No,” she says, resigned. “All right, I’ll jot down some notes for Tommy, okay?”

She’s being all motherly. I’ve always loved that about her.

“Yes, ma’am.” I head for the kitchen to pack them some cake.

She’s watching me warily but going along with it, and so is Nelson. As far as they’re concerned, the incident is over. Tommy is another story. He hasn’t moved from the counter.

“I’ll see you early tomorrow, all right?” I say to Nelson.

“Are you sure you’re good to come in?”

“Absolutely, I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I don’t want Tommy to find out that Nelson just received a call about new burn marks in that field in Bloomingfield.

Seeing them off with a smile, I wish them both a good night. After closing the door behind them, I move to collect the leftovers of what began our evening of fun and games.

Tommy was biding his time until they left. Now he’s just staring, waiting for me to explain. I have to consider all sides. Perhaps there were kids knocking on doors, but that doesn’t explain how the hell I saw Will Shaw standing in my doorway.

“Tommy, could you please check on Mrs. N.?” I ask sweetly, before he can get a word out.

He’s skeptical, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly, but I press on. “Please, if there are kids knocking on doors and screwing around, I want to make sure she’s okay.”

Mrs. N. is in her eighties, alone, and her safety is not something I take lightly. Besides, I need some time on my own.

I grab an ice pack from the freezer for my eye. Still leaning on the kitchen counter, he doesn’t move a muscle. Piercing me with those deep, inquisitive eyes, he radiates doubt and skepticism.  I walk over, lean close, and press my body against his. I
need
to touch him. His rock-hard body makes me feel safe, like nothing can hurt me. He smells of cologne and a light sweat. His scent brings me comfort, keeps me sane.

Pushing the memory of my hallucination away, I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss his jaw softly, his light stubble tickling my lips. “I’m all right, promise,” I whisper against his skin.

His arms hang at his sides; he won’t reciprocate. He’s worried about me, and there’s nothing that I hate more than worrying him with my bullshit.

You can do better, Ileana.

Burying my face in the crook of his neck, I softly brush my lips over the base of his throat and place a kiss there. His arms lock around me like a band, pressing me tightly against him.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he utters into my hair, hands rubbing my back soothingly.

It’s working.

“I’m sorry. I think I might have overdone it at the gym, that’s all.”

Blaming it on my stab wound always works, even though I’ve fully recovered. I wonder how much longer I can get away with that.

Tipping my chin up with his index finger, he plants a tender kiss on my lips. He’s gentle, loving, showing me how much he cares. I respond eagerly; I need him these days like my next breath. Without him, I’ll disappear.

He lets go of me, adjusting the ice pack I’m holding and making sure it’s against my eyebrow.

“I’ll be right back.”

He heads for the door, and as soon as it closes behind him, my smile, like my composure, gradually slips away.

In my bedroom, I discard my clothes along the way to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, I take stock of the damage: my left eye is slightly swollen, and dried blood stains the butterfly bandage. My left cheek is tinged red, probably due to the impact with the hardwood floor. My left shoulder is sore, which is most likely because I landed on that side.

What reflects back at me is a lie. I’ve become one giant, walking lie.

I’m lying to those I care about the most. I am far from fine.

When I was a kid, my mother would go on with whatever she was doing without so much as a word or a glance my way. Sometimes she would stay out all night, leaving me to fend for myself.

Things were entirely different when she was married to Sergeant Ramirez. When he returned home from deployments, she would treat me like other moms treated their kids.

It was very confusing, to say the least. Those years they were married, I hated when my stepdad had to leave because I knew what it meant. I would become invisible again.

Once Sgt. Ramirez got wind of her cheating, he divorced her.

That’s when it all changed for me. It didn’t matter that I was surrounded by people in school during the day. Once I entered our apartment, I was a castaway on some deserted planet. It took me an entire year to face the facts: the only reason she kept me around was because Sarge sent her child support, even though he was not my biological father. Without me, there would be no money. I was her meal ticket. That’s a tough thing to realize when you’re nine years old.

After an incident with Children Services, I knew the perception of normalcy was key. I made sure my hair was brushed, my grades were good, and my clothes were clean and mended. After all, I learned from the best: my mother.

As long as I act like everything’s fine, they’ll believe it. Which is what I did tonight. Just like Sophia always had around Sarge so he never knew any better.

I need to watch myself, especially around Tommy. He’s been so happy since we’ve gotten together that his trademark smile barely leaves his lips. He’s thriving at his new job with the DEA. The last thing he needs is me having some kind of existential meltdown.

Perhaps this isn’t my reflection. Maybe it’s an echo of what’s left of me.

Think rationally
,
Ileana
.

Let’s say, hypothetically, that one of my fellow agents went missing for four months, and then showed up in a farm field lying next to a serial killer. When questioned, said agent claimed to have traveled seventy years into the past, landing in 1944, and remained there for three weeks while learning the serial killer had been traveling to the future to kill women.

Right
.

Psych Eval and dismissal from the bureau, guaranteed.

I shake my head. Is this what happened to my great-grandmother, and my grandmother? Did they start hallucinating, and before they knew it, lose their minds? Did they go off the deep end then take their own lives? I know Sue committed suicide. Maybe my grandmother leapt off a bridge or took a long walk off a short pier, and no one was the wiser. That would explain her falling off the face of the earth.

Christ. If that’s the case, Sophia is the winner in all this. Crazy, selfish Sophia. Maybe this is why she has no heart. Did she cut it out? Did she will it to wither and die?

No heart, no feelings. No feelings, no pain. No pain, no insanity.