All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) (23 page)

I glanced at Brant, who was grinning his ass off at big, intimidating Kade Edenfield meekly asking for a hug.

I nodded and sat forward, leaving room for his wide arms to wrap around me. When he leaned in and gave me an ever-so-gentle squeeze, I whispered into his thick blond hair. “I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

That damn lump was back as I watched him walk back into the house, his hair falling into his face and hiding his expression as he gave us a final wave and disappeared inside.

I turned to Brant. “He knows, doesn’t he?” There was no accusation in my voice, no anger. Just the realization that Kade’s departure from his usual foreboding demeanor had been because of me, because he knew what happened in Denson and he wanted to make me feel safe.

“Yeah, gorgeous. He knows.” Brant’s voice was soft and apologetic as he moved to sit beside me on the couch, patting my knee. “I felt like he needed to be aware of the situation before we came to stay in his home. He’s the only one who knows, and you can trust him to keep it that way. I hope you aren’t angry with me for telling him.”

“No. You’re right. He needed to know.” I pulled in a deep breath, nodding. “He was wonderful to take us in, and he was so great to me… they all were.” I heard the distinct sound of the front door closing.

As soon as I realized we were alone, the tears started to fall.

And for the first time in days, Brant dared to pull me into his arms where I wept for what felt like an eternity.

Brant

The night air was getting colder and colder as I sat there with Lauren huddled in my lap. She’d nestled her head against my neck after her tears settled from torrential to a trickle and finally to an occasional soft whimpering as she drifted off to sleep. I’d pulled the blanket around us but the thin cashmere couldn’t stand up to the biting chill in the evening air.

I wasn’t particularly concerned about myself. It was her I worried about, a habit I’d fallen into weeks ago that I was helpless to control. There was no reining in the protectiveness I felt for her. No possibility of ignoring the way she’d imprinted herself onto my very soul without even trying.

She’d been through so much.

Seen so much pain and heartbreak.

So many unimaginable hurts from so many directions.

And she was still standing.

A fighter.

A survivor.

An inspiration.

She walked a razor-thin line between fierce and fragile, simultaneously managing to be both and neither.

And, man, how I adored her… no matter which side of the line she occupied at any given moment.

The wind skirted through her hair, lifting the bright red strands to tickle my nose, making me smile. She breathed deeply and evenly against my neck, and I wanted to hug her against me, pull her so tight to me that every inch of her would be warmed by my body heat. It was too soon for that, her burns still needing to heal.

But heal they would, and then I would hold her the way I wanted.

If she let me.

I leaned my cheek against her head, breathing her in as I slowly moved us to the edge of the couch. She didn’t stir so I moved a little more, slowly threading my left arm behind her knees and tensing my right arm behind her back as I prepared to stand. Still no reaction. She must have been absolutely exhausted.

Tentatively, I stood, taking an excruciatingly long time to rise to my full height, moving incrementally to be sure I didn’t wake or hurt her as I moved.

She sighed in her sleep and wrapped her arms around my neck as I started off toward the house and in through the patio doors, leaving them open until I could come back down and lock up. I crept across the living room and hooked a right down the long hall that led to the stairs and Kade’s bedroom.

The house had ten bedrooms, all lavishly furnished and guest-ready.

But only Kade’s suite had a lock on the door.

He’d graciously offered it when I mentioned needing locks, no question, no raised eyebrows, just a quick nod and a genuine offer of whatever Lauren needed to feel comfortable and safe.

The guy was fucking awesome.

I took Lauren’s sleeping form to the edge of the bed and crouched down until I could snag the covers with the tips of my fingers and pull them back, trying not to wake her with my off-balance movements.

When I leaned down to lower her onto the massive California King mattress, her eyes shot open and she gasped, pulling away for a moment with terror in her eyes before seeming to realize who I was.

“Shit. I’m sorry, baby girl. You were sleeping so soundly I was trying not to wake you up.” I smoothed her hair and pulled up the covers, watching her pulse pound in her throat. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She shook her head, taking a deep breath and slowly blowing it out between her barely parted lips. “No. I just forgot where I was for a second. I was dreaming… Isaac…” Her voice caught in her throat and she looked away. Her eyes widened as she took in the room around her. She locked her gaze on me. “This is Kade’s room. Why am I in Kade’s room? I mean, I know I used his shower but I don’t think…”

“He wanted you to stay in here.” I told her in a soothing voice. “This room has better security than Fort Knox. The door has locking bolts on three sides of the frame. There is no getting in once it’s locked.”

“Why does he have…?”

“Had trouble a while back with a crazy stalker. She was caught on his property more than once and even made it into his old place long enough to steal a few items and do some disgusting things on his bed. Now, he’s understandably wary.”

“I bet.” She winced. “So, he knows about that stuff too?”

I shook my head. “No. I just suggested that a room with a lock might go a long way toward easing your mind. He agreed.”

“And he’s okay with giving his code to some strange girl just because you vouched for her?”

“I don’t need his code. I have the default code that I used when I installed the locks.” I gave her a smile. “He’s called me for the default a couple times because he forgot his own code, actually. Hazards of jet-lag and world travel, I guess.”

She laughed softly, relaxing back into the pillows for the first time. “I can picture him standing out in the hall with his phone in his hand, irritated as hell at having to get you to grant him access to his own bedroom.”

I chuckled with her. “Yeah, it’s always entertaining. Last time, I made him promise me front row tickets to a show.” I thought for a minute. “Actually, the bastard still hasn’t come through on that. I’ll have to call him out when I talk to him again.” I shook my head. “I’m gonna head down and lock up, do you want me to bring you back something? Do you need something for pain so you can sleep?”

She shook her head, her eyes searching my face for a moment. “Will you come back?”

“Sure I will, gorgeous. I just need a few minutes to set the alarms and I’ll be right back. Okay?”

She gave a nod looking small in the enormous bed. My girl was on the fragile side of the line tonight. “Okay.”

•••

I came back a few minutes later after locking up, grabbing her a bottle of water from the fridge, and taking the fastest shower in the history of man. She was sitting up against the headboard, propped against the thick pillows with a sweet smile on her face. “There you are.” she said, her gaze traveling the length of my body, taking in the thin t-shirt and sweatpants I’d thrown on as I was dashing back to her side. “Which room are you in?”

I hooked a thumb in the direction of the door. “One right down the hall. Not far.”

She dropped her eyes to her hands as she wrung them together atop the thick white comforter. “I’m probably being a baby, but would you consider staying here with me?”

“Sleep with you?” My voice sounded strangled.

Smooth, Matthews, really smooth. You sound like someone just squashed your nuts.

She shrugged, still not meeting my eye. “You make me feel safe.” A pause. “I understand if you don’t want to and I swear I’m not looking to get anything started. I just don’t want to be alone. I didn’t know how to ask for something like this because, to be honest, I’ve never slept in a bed with a man. It makes me nervous, but I figured it would be okay because it’s you.” She looked up, eyes wide and vulnerable. “Because I trust you.”

I turned back to close the door, engaging the lock and listening as a heavy clinking sound announced that the locking bolts were in place around the door frame. After that, I held her gaze as I made my way to the far side of the bed, where I wordlessly pulled back the covers, turned off the light, and slid in beside her.

When I was settled in and she had moved over so that our hands touched as we lay on our backs, I looked up into the darkness and admitted, “I was going to sleep outside the door, you know?”

Her voice was calm, serene. “I know. You did that every night at the cabin, too.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you talk in your sleep.” she said.

I frowned into the darkness. “I do?”

“Yeah. Not a lot, just a few words here and there. It was enough to make me aware of where you were, though.”

“What did I say?”

She blew out a breath, sounding tired as she fumbled around for my hand. “Mostly gibberish. The only words I could make out were ‘I’m sorry’ and a name.”

My breath caught in my throat. “What name?”

“Zoey.” she said, clearly curious from her tone but not pushing or questioning.

“Oh.” I scrubbed my free hand over my face. “I’m sorry if my talking woke you. I didn’t know I talked in my sleep.”

She gave my hand a squeeze, dismissing the apology. “No one ever mentioned it to you before?”

I shrugged, not that she could see it. “I live alone, always have. So, there’s been no one to notice.”

“What about when you had women over?”

“No one ever stayed the night.” I could feel myself blushing and was supremely thankful for the darkened room.

“Not once?” Her voice was doubtful.

“Nope. Tonight is a first for us both, I guess.”

I could feel her shifting, her hand slipping from mine as she propped herself up on her elbow to face me. Only her silhouette was visible in the traces of moonlight that the heavy drapes failed to block. “If you don’t want to stay…”

“I do,” I assured her. “I really do. I would have suggested it myself if I hadn’t been worried that you’d take it as a come-on.”

She snorted softly. “I wouldn’t have, but I might have messed with you about it a little.”

“Like you did with the aloe earlier?’ I smiled to myself.

“Exactly.” She chuckled, lying on her side to face me, interlocking our fingers once more. “I like making you blush. It’s fun.”

I huffed out a breath. “And easy, apparently. It doesn’t take much when you’re around.”

She was silent for a while, her thumb lightly rubbing the side of my hand. After a few minutes, she took in a deep breath and asked the question I knew was coming. “Will you tell me about Zoey?”

It was my turn to pull in a lungful as I steeled myself to give her the answers I knew I owed. She’d told me her story, let me in and trusted me despite her natural tendency to shut people out. I owed her the same trust, the same respect. I just hoped I could tell the story without making her doubt me.

I blew out the breath I was holding, and began…

•••

“Zoey was my high school girlfriend. My first love. We grew up in the same small town in Pennsylvania, went to school together all our lives, and began dating in middle school.” My throat closed up when I remembered her back then. Her hazel eyes flashing in my mind, a smile on her face and laughter tumbling from her lips as we ran across the soccer field after school, chasing and playing. I cleared my throat and pressed on. “I’m sure you’ve heard Clay and Spencer joke about me being some sort of genius—which I assure you I’m not, by the way. Well, they got that idea because I graduated at fifteen.”

Lauren’s breath hitched slightly but she withheld comment.

“Zoey and I actually tested in the same IQ range—though she was a year younger. We got basically the same scores and were both offered the opportunity to skip several grades.” I felt myself tensing and forced my jaw to unclench. “The only difference was, my parents agreed to it, wanted me to excel and knew I was being offered an extraordinary opportunity.”

Lauren’s voice was empathetic. “And her parents refused, didn’t they?”

I nodded into the darkness. “Yeah. They said there was no need for her to skip the grades since they had no money for her college education anyway. And when she suggested that she could get a scholarship—which was a near-certainty with her grades—they called it asking for charity and refused to even entertain the notion.” I ground my teeth. “Her parents were intimidated by her intelligence, and, I suppose, by mine. They weren’t particularly bright and almost seemed angry when she talked about things they didn’t understand. It was like they wanted to hold her back to make her like them. I hated them for it, but I never told her that. She loved them, wanted them to love her the way she deserved, so she just bowed to their wishes without fighting. Maybe she thought it was futile to try to convince them anyway. She never talked much about it, just shrugged it off like it was inevitable.”

“So, she was left behind when you graduated early and went to college?”

“Yeah.” My voice cracked, betraying the emotion swelling in my chest. “I went home at holidays, saw her as much as possible, but I could hear it in her voice when we talked, see it in the way her smile never touched her eyes even when we were together. She was miserable in that town without me. We had always been there for each other, been apart from the crowd because we were different. Without me there, she withdrew into herself. I hated it, hated myself for leaving, hated her parents for holding her back. Hell, I even hated my own parents for insisting that I take the scholarship I was offered, knowing I would have to leave her behind.”