Broken In Pieces: Billionaire Stepbrother Romance (Wounded Hearts Book 1) (22 page)

The morning sun wakes me. I stretch and finally pry my eyes open. I realize Blade has already left for work but there’s a sheet of paper and a book lying on his pillow. I figure he must have left something out of his briefcase but when I pick it up and begin to read, I’m shocked. It’s for me.

Baby girl,

I understand that it’s hard for you to talk to me right now. It just seems to bring up too many emotions. I know I’ve been a jackass but I promise I am a jackass who loves you with all his heart.

I reacted poorly when you told me that you love me and I’m sorry for that. My reaction wasn’t because I didn’t love you, it came from fear. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. The last person I ever loved was my mother. When she died, I closed that part of myself off and never allowed it to be touched again.

Then, you happened. The most amazing, gorgeous, caring person I have ever known was in my life and I didn’t have a clue how to handle it. You brought hope back into my life and I hadn’t had that in years. You inspire me, you bring me joy and I can’t bare the thoughts of being without you.

I know you say you don’t know me and I think it’s time we fix that. I fear that when you know all of me, you won’t love me anymore. But, that’s a chance I have to take or I may lose you forever. It’s a risk either way so I
have
to try.

Over the next few days, you will get to read about all the things I’ve kept from you….a diary about my life, if you will. Please try to keep an open mind and remember who I am today. If you have questions, please ask them. I’m willing to give you anything you need to work through this.

There is a WE. There will always be a WE. I always tell you that you’re mine when the truth is, I’m yours. You own my heart now and that will never change, no matter what your decision is.

I hope you enjoy getting to know me and I hope it doesn’t completely run you away.

With all my love,

Blade

Holy fuck….holy motherfuck!!
I never expected this. I’m absolutely taken back. I sit, staring at the pages and fear overwhelms me.
What could be so bad about his past that it scares him to tell me? Do I really want to know? Do I have the right to know?
I’m truly lost. I still love this man with every fiber of my being even though I can’t accept any more secrets. I lay back, pondering …..
Will this destroy us? Am I asking for too much?
I can’t wrap my head around this right now. I doze back off as all the ramifications are running through my head.

When I wake again, the letter and book are still there, staring me in the face. Donna knocks on the door before she enters with a tray full of breakfast. “You okay, Sher? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I hand her the letter and begin to eat as she reads. “Wow…..uhhh, just wow. I don’t know what else to say,” she looks bewildered. “Have ya read the rest?”

“No. It makes me nervous,” I reply.

“If you want him in your life, ya have to work through all of this. It looks like he’s willing to, now you just have to decide if you’re willing too,” she gives me a sympathetic look. I nod in confirmation and then she leaves the room. I finish my breakfast, take my tray to the kitchen and thank Donna for everything she’s doing. “Psst…think nothing of it. This just puts you on the hook to take care of me when I get kidnapped, shot and knocked up all in a matter of days,” she giggles.

I bust out laughing a hard belly laugh. “Oh shit, don’t make me laugh,” I grasp my chest. I haven’t laughed that hard in weeks and it’s a wonderful release. “I’ll be on the balcony if you need me,” I say as I get my laughing under control and head out with the letter and book.

I read the letter again, looking for any clue as to what the pages of the journal may hold. It reveals nothing so I take a deep breath and open the cover of the book. The first page reads:

MY BEGINNING

I was born Damien Hawthorne on January 1, 1987 to Madison (Maddie) Hawthorne. Maddie was seventeen years old and unwed when she got pregnant with me. That’s right, I was a bastard child. Maddie was a beautiful woman. Her long raven hair trimmed her petite face and her cyan eyes shined like new money. She never saw a stranger and she was kind to everyone.

Her family disowned her and kicked her out of the house when they found out about me. She was completely alone. Even with all this, she used to tell me that I was an angel that God had sent to save her.

Maddie lived in a shelter for most of her pregnancy, where they helped her finish her high school education, get a waitressing job and acquire a small apartment. When she told me stories about this time in her life, she would have a twinkle in her eye that let me know she felt like she had the world by the tail. She said even though she had no one, she had everything because I was with her, even then.

Maddie went into labor about a month too early. There were some complications so a C-section was performed. She said the pain afterward was horrible and this is where she first encountered pain medication. Little did she know, the pain from having her “angel” would be the very thing that led to her demise. As far back as I can remember, Maddie’s life was always spent on a journey trying to find the next pain pill.

When I was very young, it wasn’t so bad. Her addiction hadn’t claimed her completely yet, so she was still functioning. She was working some low paying job that would barely get us through. While she worked, I would be with some neighbor or daycare, until she couldn’t pay for my care again. When this would happen, she would have to miss a few days of work and would end up losing her job. But, she didn’t give up. She would pick herself up and find that next job.

We spent lots of days hungry and some of them homeless. When we did have a place to live, it was always a tiny, roach and rat infested hole. Our furniture, when we had furniture, was items that people sat out for the trash. Maddie would bring something in and clean it up the best she could. She was always so proud of her treasures.

When I turned seven, she said I was old enough to stay home alone while she worked at night. If she didn’t have to pay childcare, maybe we could keep our apartment and not have to move again. While the apartment wasn’t much and was in a really bad part of town, it was still better than sleeping in some alley way. I knew she was counting on me so I never told her how terrified I was when she left at night.

As soon as she was out the door, I would grab a blanket, pillow and flashlight and hide in my closet the rest of the night. The noises from the street couldn’t be heard in there, it was my safe haven. I always made sure to be back in my bed before Maddie came home so she wouldn’t know.

One morning, Maddie didn’t come home. I thought she had forgotten me but I was too scared to leave the apartment. The only food in the house was a loaf of bread that had started to mold. For two days, I picked mold off the bread and ate the good parts. I had water from the faucet so at least I wasn’t thirsty.

On the third day, I was sure she wasn’t coming back. There was no more bread and I was hungry. I spent the morning working up the nerve to venture out of the apartment to try to find something to eat. As I closed the door behind me, Maddie was coming up the stairs. The morning she didn’t return home, she had been arrested for stealing food, from one of the local markets, to bring home for me. She hadn’t forgotten me, she had been in jail.

I stop reading and look out over the skyline. The image of a little boy, hungry and scared, runs through my head as my tears begin to fall. I can’t believe what I’m reading.
Poor little Blade
. To look at him now, you would never know his life began this way. He’s always so strong and has everything under control. Then anger begins to rise in me…
How the hell could a mother put her child through this?!
I’m ashamed of the way I’ve felt so deprived of my mother’s love. She never left me alone, I was never hungry or scared
. Poor little Blade
. Part of me doesn’t want to know more but the other part knows I have to keep reading.

By the time I was eight, Maddie’s pill addiction was escalating. Even without childcare, she was having trouble paying the bills. I was glad for school days, they got me out of the chaos for a while. Even though I never fit in at school, at least I got to eat there. The other kids weren’t kind to me. I was made fun of a lot, for my ragged clothes or the holes in my shoes. I never made any friends because I just tried to stay away from everyone. It was easier that way.

One day as I returned home from school, the landlord was coming out of the door to our apartment while he was zipping his pants and fixing his belt. I looked at Maddie in disbelief. She just smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I just caught up all the rent. We don’t have to move.” Even at eight years old, I knew she was doing what she thought it took to save us but I still couldn’t believe it. I stayed mad at her for a long time. I would rather have slept in the streets than for her to do what she did.

The “payment” for the rent began Maddie’s journey into a new lifestyle…prostitution. My mother had become a pill whore. I guess she realized she could make more money for pills by selling her body than by working her minimum wages jobs. I still loved her with all my heart but I had lost all respect for her and I believe she had lost all self-respect.

At the age of nine, there were so many men in and out of our apartment, I didn’t want to be there. I started hanging out on the streets, with the wrong people. I stole what I ate and I only went home to sleep. I wasn’t going to school most days until a truancy officer showed up on our door step. He threatened to have Maddie dragged into court. She “took care” of the situation just like she did with the landlord. There was no court this time but I had to start attending school regularly.

I hated school, not because of the kids this time but because it had taken me off the streets for a large part of the day. My grades were shitty and my teachers could have cared less if I was there or not. I slept through most classes which let me stay out on the street for most of the night.

I started doing some work for an older Italian man, named Bellincioni. Everyone called him Belli for short. Belli was a small fish in the New York crime world but he had long reaching arms. He had more money than any of us ever dreamed of having and he sort of took me under his wing for some reason. Some say I reminded him of his son who died when he was seven.

One day Belli asked me about my grades. I had seen his men beat the hell out of a guy for lying to him so I wasn’t about to lie like I did when Maddie had asked the same question. I told him the truth, a little nervous about why he was asking the question to begin with. He just shook his head in disgust and I will never forget his words… “Such a fucking waste! Why the hell the Man upstairs would bestow such intelligence on a boy, who doesn’t want it, is beyond me.”

He pissed me off but I never said a word, I knew better. That day Belli made me a deal, every time I brought him a daily assignment with an A, he would give me ten dollars. Every time I brought him a test with an A, he would give me twenty dollars. If I had all A’s on my report card, he gave me two hundred dollars.

Going to school had become profitable so I was all in. I busted my ass and learned everything that was expected of me and then some. Between the money I made for my grades and the money for the jobs I did for Belli, I could pay a few of our bills myself. I always made sure the rent was paid because I hated the thoughts of Maddie paying it her way. At least with the other men, they’d do their business and be gone. The landlord was a different story, we had to look at him every day because he lived in the building.

Delivering for Belli sent me into some really rough places so I bought a switchblade with some of the money. Everyone knew better than mess with Belli’s boy but I still felt better having some protection on me. One day, I made a delivery and the guy is high out of his mind. He wants the package before he shows me his money. I tell him there’s no way that’s happening so he decides to get rough. He’s a grown man so at nine, I’m not doing much to hold my own with him. When he starts choking me to the point I feel like I’m going to pass out, I know it’s him or me. I whip out the switchblade and start slicing. I run for my life, leaving him lying in a pool of blood.

I run in the door at Belli’s place and as soon as he sees me, all the color leaves his face. I look down and I’m covered in the man’s blood. I’m trembling so bad I can barely talk but I explain to him and his men what had just gone down. Belli has one of his men buy me some clothes and sends me in to get cleaned up.

When I come out, Belli says they found the guy and I hadn’t killed him. He assured me that he had taken care of everything and I wouldn’t have a problem again. I never saw the man again but word on the street was that Belli had made an example of him so that no one tried something like that with one of his boys again. They say he was tortured to death.

Over the next couple of days, it had become a friendly joke among Belli’s men about how good I was with the switchblade. I was given the nickname Blade and from that day on it stuck. When I got older, I legally changed my name to include it. It was part of who I was, how I survived

This incident brought about my first encounter with Detective Torres, only he wasn’t a detective then. Torres was a beat cop who was tough as nails. He didn’t take any shit from anybody and he’d throw you in jail in a heartbeat if you’d broken the law. He questioned me about the guy’s disappearance. I told him the truth, I didn’t know any more than he did about it. I’d only heard the rumors.

I would run into Torres on a regular basis after that. It was as though he was keeping an eye out for me, making sure I never got into too much trouble. He told me several times over the years that I was a good kid who needed to get away from the life I was running in. Back then, I had a chip on my shoulder and just thought he was some old man who didn’t know anything about my life.