Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (43 page)

It’s then I
notice gauze covering the left side of chest.  My fingers brush over his
injury, but he quickly grabs hold of my wrist stopping me.  I pull away just as
his hand reaches out and pulls at my waist, moving me closer to his body.  His
hand rests on my barely noticeable belly, his fingers graze my skin.  I have
never fought against something so hard as I am right now.  There is nothing
more in this life, at this moment, than the want to pull him close, to run my
fingers through his hair while his forehead rests against my chest, to tell him
that everything will be okay.  Instead, my face goes blank watching him watch
me.

“I wanted
this…so damn much.  I wanted this…” his voice strains while he continues to
stroke my belly.  I’m unable to hide my emotions and cry silently, my hands
still at my sides.  “Why would you let me think it was mine?”  Alex lifts his
head, his gaze searching mine for any sort of explanation.

“I wanted it to
be.”  My voice is weak, practically choking on each deceitful word.

Alex lightly
pushes me back to pace the room.  Eyes menacing, he searches my face for
something.  Anything to make his pain go away.  He finds nothing in my blank
face.  He screams in exasperation, lifting his hands in the air before they
rest on the back of his neck.  Every inch of his muscular body strains when he
clutches his hands together.  I flinch as he growls before punching his fist
through a wall. 

“I fucking hate
you!  I hate what you’ve done to me.  You made me feel.  I was fine before you
made me care.  Before you made me love you.”  His screams elevate to the point
I have to cover my ears.  And then he puts his fists into the wall again.

I step back
until my calves are against the foot of his bed.  Anger has obviously sobered
him and now he’s in self destruct mode.  I inch closer towards the door as Alex
clutches his hands on top of his head, breathing hard.

I don’t get
far.  As soon as he realizes I’m trying to escape, he stomps over to me.  I
stand my ground with him knowing that I deserve his anger.  I’m not scared of
him.  I know he won’t hurt me, regardless of his state of sobriety.  Looming
over me, he waits to make sure he has my full attention.  “You running off to
him?” he growls at me. 

“No, I’m going
home.”  I keep my voice calm as he continues to look at me menacingly.

“You let someone
else stick his dick in you.”  I clutch my eyes tightly.  “You fucking let him
come inside you.  Was it good?”

I shake my head
as moisture escapes my tightly fastened eyes. 
Oh, God.  I can’t do this.

“Did you pretend
it was me when you were with him?”  I bite my lower lip to hide the trembling. 
He pushes his face closer and the only reason I know is because I can feel his
breath against my cheek; his lips skimming across my skin.

“Look at me,” he
snarls.  “Did he make you come?  Did he get to hear all your moans and whimpers
that were only supposed to be for me?”

He wants me to
look at him.  Fine.  I open my eyes, showing him the dripping emotion as tears
start to cascade down my face.  I look at every inch of his rock hard body. 
From his sex lines that peek out from the waist of his slacks, up the ripples
of his six pack, to the peeks of his chest, the stubble of his jaw, until I
meet the intensity of his eyes.  If looks could kill.

Alex lifts his
arms out to the side as if I’ve crucified him.  I attempt to push against his
chest and get nowhere, fast.  Looking past his attempts of self destruction, I
love him.  I always will.  Today.  Tomorrow.  Forever. 

“I’m looking at
you, Alex.  I know you don’t understand it now, but someday…”  My voice trails
off, my body trembling as he pushes his way towards me.  The look of menace in
his eyes is frightening.  So unlike the Alex that was once mine.  “No matter
what, Alex,” I plead.  He promised, but I guess so did I.

“You’ve ruined
me.  You’ve killed everything I had left.  Completely shattered my existence.” 
He keeps talking, but when my eyes can no longer comprehend the man shouting at
me, I block out his words.  I deserve this and I’ll take it for him.  Right now
he can use me as his verbal punching bag.  I can only hope it will quell the
storm brewing inside of him so that he doesn’t go straight back to the bar.

“I fucking loved
you!” he erupts again.  He’s unraveling right in front of my eyes.  If I wasn’t
convinced by his words or the holes in the walls, the picture frame he just
yanked from the side table solidifies my assumption.  He tosses a photo of the
two of us across the room before grabbing my shoulders and begins to shake me. 
“How could you do this?” 

I panic.  Thoughts
swirl through my mind.  Alex’s words of anger, the look of danger in his eyes,
and the scent of alcohol catapult me back to old memories.  Memories I never
thought I would have to relive.  I panic because as Alex shakes me I know our
baby is in danger.  The thoughts or concerns I never had when I was pregnant
with Cole’s baby are in the forefront of my mind.  I tremble out of fear.  Fear
that the next few moments will determine the rest of our future. 
I want
this baby.  I need this baby.  I need to know that I didn’t put us through all
of this grief to just end up with nothing left.

Frantically, and
with all my might, I push Alex away.  Clutching my belly and backing away from
him I scream with the sound of a thousand lions, to make him drop his hands.  Dropping
his arms, he backs away and almost collapses.  His eyes soften as he watches me
protect our unborn child.  The realization he was making a huge mistake clear
as day on his face, he pulls at his hair and scrubs his face. 

After a minute,
he takes a step forward, reaching out.  I don’t give him a chance and back away
even farther, shaking my head while silently more tears fall.  “Please don’t
hurt me!” I scream, stilling Alex in the process.  “I want this baby, Alex.  I
want this more than you could ever imagine.  This can’t happen.  Not again.  Do
you hear me?  I can’t let you hurt her because you’re angry.”  I shake my head
as I slide down against the wall clutching my belly. 

His voice is
calm as he drops to his knees in front of me.  “Hart… I’m not him…I’m not
Cole.  I would never hurt the baby and I would die before I hurt you.  I’m just
so…I wanted this too…I just wanted this to be true.”  He drops his head,
wrenching his hands together.

“But I guess…in
the end you’re lucky the baby doesn’t have my genes.  You’re lucky you’re not
stuck with a permanent piece of me because I just can’t do anything right.  I
would have fucked this up, too.” 

I almost lose my
resolve and tell him everything, but he beats me to it.  Just as I’m about to
tell him my lies, Alex’s hand braces my neck, gently pulling me to him.  He
leans in and kisses my forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling away. 
“I’ll love you forever, Hart.” 

Alex stands and
stares at his bed before letting himself fall against his cool black sheets.  I
pull myself up and watch as his eyes flutter shut.  “I’ll love you forever,” he
mutters again before his breathing evens out.

“I’ll love you
forever,” I whisper before walking out the door.

Friday, December 14, 2012

“What can I get
for ya, sweetie?”  Overly cheery at six in the morning, the petite waitress
incessantly chews her gum while she stands with a pen in hand waiting for my
order.  Her gray hair held back in a black scarf reminding me of a style from
the fifties.

Okay, I’m sure
you’re wondering where the heck I am and why.  Over the past week, Oliver
asked, then begged, then pleaded for me to go to San Diego with him.  Each time
I said no.  But, when I got the text, his “last ditch effort,” his words not
mine, to leave with him, I took the opportunity.  I know, I know, probably not
the smartest move, but can you blame me?  With all that’s happened, good and
bad, I needed some space. If only for a few days. 

When Oliver
picked me up from my apartment after I left Alex’s, I’m sure he could tell I
was crying.  I’m also sure the few tears I shed on the drive over weren’t
masked by the darkness of the night.  But he didn’t pry or push me to talk
about the situation.  He probably assumes my tears are because of Alex.  He
could have said a whole lot of hurtful things, because he hasn’t been shy about
despising Alex, making him the villain, when in reality Alex is only a pawn in
my wicked game with Arianna.

So here we are,
in sunny San Diego at a diner close to where Oliver lives, ordering breakfast. 
When we pulled into the parking lot, Oliver muttered the only words exchanged
between the two of us since we left Las Vegas.  He explained that it was still
too early to head to his house, saying something about not waking his parents.

Truth be told, I
may have to thank him later.  I’m pretty sure Oliver also wanted to give me a
chance to get my head wrapped around my thoughts before jumping into a family
filled weekend.  Something we both know I’m not use to. 

“Just some
coffee and the special,” I mutter.  The waitress turns her attention to
Oliver.  He’s clearly comfortable with his arm draped over the back of the
booth as he looks over the menu.  “Oh wait, can you change it to orange juice
instead.”  I mentally slap my forehead.  Coffee equals caffeine, which is bad
for the baby. 

“Sure.  Fresh
squeezed every morning.”  I muster a smile even though I’m dying inside.  “You
want your usual Ollie?”  She leans over and rustles his already messy hair. 

He smiles
sweetly up at her and nods his head.  “How’s business, Gale?”  Oliver glances
around at the full tables.  The place isn’t big, but it’s an older café which
has been kept up with a bit of maintenance.  The black tables and red chairs
situated in the middle of the room seem new, but the cash register shows its
age.  “Seems to be going good.”

“What?  You want
your old job back?” she laughs, and when I look over at Oliver he scrunches his
face.  The friendly banter between the two is endearing.

“I don’t think I
ever got a paycheck here.  I always had broken plates and free meals deducted
from my check.”  Oliver looks a little satisfied with himself, revealing this
tidbit of information.

“Free meals?” I
question, jumping into the conversation with a raised brow.

“Oh…Casanova
over here used to offer meals to all of the pretty girls.  With those eyes and
sharp wit, you’d swear we were serving up women and not food.  But then again,
that’s how he met the banshee.” 
Banshee?
 
“Speaking of Melanie,
you must have the darndest luck because she’s out on the balcony having
breakfast with a fellow who looks more than a little questionable.”

Oliver’s face
darkens as he leans over to look out the bay windows along the far end of the
room facing the coast.  Outside, the tables are lined with white cloths which
are now basking in the sun’s rays.  From where I’m sitting, I can’t see what he
sees, so I stare up at Gale who is looking at Oliver with pity.  She seems
almost sorry she mentioned this so-called banshee.

I try to bring Oliver’s
attention away from the couple who seem to have captured his attention.  “So,
how many free meals are we talking about?” 

Gale winks at
me, secretly thanking me for ending the awkward silence.  “Tons.  What Oliver
never realized is that they came in just to see him.”  Gale leans over and pats
Oliver’s cheek.  “He didn’t need to offer free meals for attention.” 

The carefree
mood returns as his green eyes shine brightly up at Gale.  “No, I realized it. 
I just got bigger tips when they thought they were special.”  Oliver chuckles
when Gale playfully slaps his bicep.

“I’ll go put in
your order, big head.”  Gale walks away and Oliver’s bright eyes follow her.  I
get the feeling he’s avoiding looking at me, knowing that ever since she
brought up this
Melanie
person, now I’m the one with questions.

He continues to
look around, sipping his coffee that was just dropped off to the table.  “You
gonna tell me what’s wrong?”  Way to avoid the elephant in the room, or better
yet, outside on the balcony.

“You gonna tell
me why this Melanie person has your panties in a bunch?” 

“I’ll show you
mine if you show me yours.”  He lifts his brows suggestively, although I know
he’s uncomfortable with this topic by the way his jaw clenched when I said her
name.  “Ladies first.”

Squinting at
him, I worry my bottom lip and decide there’s nothing to tell.  Not right now. 
“It’s nothing, Oliver.”

“Can’t be
nothing if it sent you all the way to California to escape it.”

“I just needed
some distance; a minute to think,” I say a little too quickly, even though it’s
the truth.

“Is it Alex?”  I
wait a moment, but end up nodding.  Oliver sighs, waits a beat, and then
continues, “He doesn’t deserve you.  I wish you would finally realize that
there’s more fish in the sea, specifically a green eyed one sitting right
across from you.” 
He’ll never give up.

I blush.  “One
day you’ll realize he’s really not a bad guy.  If anything, it’s the situation
that’s keeping us apart, not Alex.”