Read Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) Online
Authors: Ann Stewart,Stephanie Nash
SHATTERED
HEART
by
Ann
Stewart and Stephanie Nash
Copyright © 2014
Ann Stewart and Stephanie Nash
All Rights
Reserved
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance
to any person, living or dead, any place, events, or occurrences, is purely
coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the
author’s imagination or are used factiously.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the
property of their respective owners.
No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except
by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you
are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an
author/publisher contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and
support the author by purchasing the e-book from one of its many distributors.
T
ABLE OF
C
ONTENTS
Saturday, November 3, 2012
I’m sorry.
Two words left
on hotel stationary. That’s what I’m leaving him with; two overwhelmingly
devastating words. My hands shake causing me to drop the hotel branded pen on
top of the notepad. I know he deserves more, so much more, and before you
judge, I’m also quite aware how cruel it is for me to jump back into his life.
But, I had to
know.
From the corner
of the cedar wood desk, I glance over at the plush bed where my heart sleeps
soundly. My heavy eyes run over the curvature of his naked body; down his back
to his firm, tight ass, landing on his muscular thighs. Catching my bottom lip
in between my teeth, I fight the urge to crawl back into bed with him, to
nuzzle against him and forget everything that has kept me away all of these
weeks. All I want is to breathe him in and feel him inside me, one last time.
To feel his embrace and know I’m safe when I’m in his arms. To feel his breath
against my skin as he murmurs he loves me over and over again.
But, that would
never be enough. If I stay, it will ruin us both.
I never meant
for this trip to be any kind of rekindling of our broken relationship. My
intentions were pure. Ensure his safety, to know that the one person I’ve
given my heart to was still alive and out of harm’s way, and then leave.
Mission
accomplished.
So, why is this
so hard?
With an already
shattered heart, I sigh and tiptoe around the hotel suite in search of my
shoes. Luckily they aren’t hard to find, and as I lean down to slip on my
sandals, I take one last look at him. I know this will crush him; I never
meant to give false hopes. I just had to know.
Who are you kidding, Ely?
What did you think would happen when you found him?
With tears
silently streaming down my face, I walk over and place one final kiss on his
slumbering temple. Alex stirs as a lone tear falls against his cheek, but
doesn’t wake. With my final gesture of love, I quietly exit the door and rush
towards the elevators and through the lobby of the hotel.
I know what I
must look like; a psycho, crying hysterically, rushing through the empty lobby
at three o’clock in the morning. Given my state, I’m not surprised when the
bellman flags a cab for me the moment he lays eyes on my grief stricken face.
With a look of sympathy, he rushes to the cab to open the door for me.
My heart jumps
in my chest, threatening to break through, as a commotion is heard coming from
the lobby. I can hear my name being cried out and instantly I know it’s him.
I’d know that voice anywhere, deep and melodious, yet completely encased in
panic. Selfishly refusing to turn around, I pull my overnight bag to my chest
and quickly get into the cab, slamming the door shut.
“JFK please.”
The cab driver nods at my desperation. The masochist that I am, I careen my
head towards the lobby and see Alex running towards me barefoot, half naked
with only his slate grey slacks on. “Please hurry,” I urge the driver.
“Miss, I can’t
drive through these cars,” he explains, pointing to the numerous stalled cabs
in front of us.
Damn New York traffic.
As Alex approaches, I tremble
in terror and immediately lock the doors, jumping when his hand slams against
the glass, frantically trying to pry the door open.
“Elyssa, what
are you doing?!” His brows are furrowed, worriedly pulling on the door handle.
“Open the fucking door, Elyssa. Don’t do this.” Alex slams his hands against
the glass. With his gaze on me, the knowing look of desolation in his eyes,
I’m frantic with worry that he might actually break the window with how hard
he’s pounding. I’m not worried about the cab driver, or even the window, but
for what it would do to Alex.
He
will get hurt and it will be my
fault. Like everything.
Oh shut it, Ely. What’s a slice on his hand when
you’ve already slivered his heart?
“A friend of
yours?” the driver jokes, peeking over his left shoulder as he attempts to
merge into the next lane.
I’m not sure if
anything would deter Alex, who’s now jogging alongside the cab, pulling at the
door handle, eyes never leaving my face. I can’t bear to look at him, but can
see him out of the corner of my eye. I see his desperation. I’m weak and
right now, I can’t be weak. I need to be strong. For him. For Nana. I need
distance to get my head on straight.
“Elyssa…please…look
at me,” he urges, while he jogs along with the moving cab. “You love me. I
know you do. Don’t fucking do this! Whatever’s going on, we can fix it.” The
cab driver starts to accelerate, but Alex keeps up. I close my eyes and remain
still, tears streaming down my face. I can only imagine the pain he must be
experiencing; the hard cement against his feet as he runs in unison with the
cab, the coldness of the frigid air on his bare chest. A loud thump jolts my
eyes open.
“He’s fucking
hitting my car.” The driver pulls out his phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Please don’t.
Just go faster,” I beg of him.
In a moment of
weakness I turn to look at Alex. Tears streaming down his face, he slams his
hand against the window one last time. “Please don’t do this to me again. I
fucking love you.”
I love you, too.
I clutch my overnight bag against
my chest hoping to ease the ache that resonates inside.
Putting his
phone away, the driver checks his rearview mirror, changes lanes and speeds
away. I risk a glance behind and see Alex hunched over, out of breath in the
middle of the street.
I did that.
I not only broke him, but I
humiliated him at three o’clock in the morning in the middle of New York City.
Good Job, Ely!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
“Hey, what’s
wrong?” His thumb brushes across my cheek while I sit stock still, facing
forward in his Mustang.
I know what he’s
referring to. I haven’t been in the mood to do anything for weeks, let alone
up for going to a movie tonight, but he insisted. He practically threatened to
have me committed if I didn’t attempt to get out more. For the past few weeks,
since Alex left, I’ve tried to fill the gaps of my life with either work or
Oliver. We’re not dating, but Oliver being his persistent self flirts heavily
and sometimes he’s hard to resist. But, I do.
I glance over
his rugged features. His five o’clock shadow, highlighted by bits of light
from the lamp that hangs above the parking stall in front of my apartment,
makes him look even rougher around the edges. Oliver. The type of man who
colors outside the defined lines of life; always pushing me to move faster,
asking me for more than what I’m willing to give. But I’m stuck, and pushing
back is all I’ve got left, and where I’ve stayed. It’s not fair, but neither
is life and I’m tired. No, not tired; I’m exhausted.
“Just tired is
all, but I needed this. Thanks for insisting, I really enjoyed the movie.”
Not a lie, but not entirely the truth. Not that I can remember what happened
during the hour and fifty minute long commercial for how the government hides
themselves in plain sight. Interesting maybe, since it was a true story, but
it didn’t really catch my attention. Something my life, which has been
directly affected by our bitch of a CEO, Arianna Salerno, coincides with.
I’ve worked for
her at Salerno Health for two months now and although I expected my career to
flourish, I never expected the events that transpired after I started. Not
only has she been callous towards me, she’s been working me to the bone day and
night with multiple projects that she insists I work on alone. Not that I
can’t handle the work load, but when you couple that with my deep depression; I
guess you could say that I’m mentally and physically depleted.
“Well, if you’re
that tired, I could come in and read you a bed time story.” His brows bounce
with each word, making me giggle. I sigh and shake my head, ringlets of brown
brushing against my face. When I look into his eyes, I briefly see a hint of
disappointment before he quickly shakes it off and mutters, “Hey, a guy has to
try, right?”
“Of course
you
do,” I reluctantly smile at him.
At least he’s consistent
.
“So, I get
you’re tired, but I know you better than you think I do. There’s something else
you’re hiding. Ever since you’ve been back from visiting your
friend
,
you’ve been off. Did something happen?” His eyes dart from left to right,
searching my eyes. “Because you know if you need to talk, I’m here.”
I know what
you’re thinking. Visiting a
friend
? Yep, that’s me; a liar. That was
the excuse I gave Oliver when I suddenly left in the middle of my work day. I
had to go see a
friend
; a friend who happens to be my ex-boyfriend,
Alex, who Oliver feels is his nemesis and competitor of my heart. Or, so he
thinks.
I had spent
hours glued to news reports and constantly checking my phone for word from
Alex. News coverage painted such an ominous picture. The streets were
flooded, powers lines were down, and people were homeless. Hurricane Sandy.
The whole city was in complete shambles and my heart was somewhere in the midst
of all that turmoil.
When I hadn’t
heard anything from him, and neither had Janice, I did the only thing I could
think of. I bought a ticket and flew my ass all the way to New York, which was
a huge accomplishment for me considering my fear of flying. To be honest, I
don’t remember the flight at all. It probably helped that I took a large dose
of Benadryl as we boarded the plane, washing it down with a bit of alcohol as
soon as we were seated. I know it wasn’t the brightest idea, and definitely
two things I don’t condone, but either way, it got me to Alex; alive and not
completely freaking out.
I plaster a fake
smile on my face because honestly, that’s all I can muster right now.
Obviously, I haven’t done a great job of hiding my anxiety and pain after
returning from New York. But in my defense, it’s only been a few weeks since
the man I love, the man I started a secret love affair, left me in all his
glory to conquer New York.
Okay, maybe it
didn’t go exactly that way; I wish it were that simple. Where do I even
begin?
Let me start off
by saying that I believe I’m a very forgiving person. I want to see the good
in all people. If that makes me naïve, maybe a little ignorant, I’m okay with
that. Because of everything I’ve gone through, I live in the now. So when I
found out about Alex’s past, his very dark past with his Dad, I looked past his
issues. I did this because of what he’s overcome and what he’s made of himself
now, not what happened when he was a teenager.
But, when I
found out his more recent past, one where he was a male prostitute, my heart
hit the floor. And then to find out that Arianna, my pseudo mother figure, my
mother’s best friend, Alex’s own boss, was his madam…well, that was just a bit
too much. I know in my heart if it was only his past choices I had to contend
with, I could move past it and we could work on making a future together. I
loved him that much. Correction, I love him that much. But, like so much of
my life where nothing comes easy, getting over his past was the least of my
troubles.