Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

Teno shook his head. “No. I won’t leave you.”

“Go. There is nothing left for you to do here. There is nothing to gain. Prove who you are. Inside. You’ve already proven it to me.”

Teno looked at his truest friend. The one who was to be his enemy. A vile creature to be left as dust and ash. Teno grabbed him by the ears, dragging him close.

Black eyes stared back, ridged in flames and surrounded by ire. But held within was eternity. “I will not leave you, my friend. We fight. We fight together. It is you who will earn your right.”

The Dragon’s black eyes deepened, and it struggled to climb to its feet. Massive and unsightly. The most beautiful thing ever seen. It nudged Teno with his snout, and Teno pressed his cheek to the fire that burned from within. He ran his palm down his coarse neck. “It’s you who will earn your right.”

I guessed it was this passage that always made me wonder exactly who it was I was fighting for.

Eight

Izzy

I glanced at the clock.

Only for the three-thousandth time this morning. In the last twenty times I’d checked, only two minutes had passed.

Goodness.

I was gonna drive myself right out of my mind.

Needing a distraction, I lifted the lid off the pot and poked at the boiling potatoes with a fork, trying to breathe around my heart that had ridden all the way up into my throat.

Or maybe it was actually floating outside of me, like a child who was misbehavin’ and wouldn’t do what it was told and sit still.

All night it’d been fluttering, wings wayward and wild, my night spent tossing in my bed, wondering if I’d made the worst mistake of my life.

Inviting that man to my house.

Could I be ripping myself open any wider?

Just begging for him to reach out and punch in a few new holes. Apparently, there weren’t enough already.

“Would you stop it?” my mama scolded softly from where she was putting the freshly-baked biscuits in a basket.

“Stop what?” I asked, wiping my sweaty hands on the back of my pants.

Erasing the evidence.

She huffed out a dubious sound. “You’ve been flitting around this kitchen like a loon the entire morning. You might as well have your head cut off the same as that bird that’s currently roasting in the oven.” With the butter knife held in her hand, she pointed at the oven where the chicken was roasting.

“Seems about fitting, considering I put my neck on the chopping block,” I muttered under my breath.

Pushing out a sigh, my mother set the knife down on the counter and moved my direction. She placed both her hands on my face, dipping down to catch my gaze when I tried to drop my attention. “Hey, baby girl. Look at me.”

I did.

She squeezed a little tighter. “I know you’re nervous, but you are doin’ the right thing.”

On a long sigh, I blew out some of the strain I was holding in. If I kept it in for a second longer, it was gonna drive me mad. I peeked up at my mama. “And what if it turns out bad?”

“Then that’s on him.”

My lips pursed. I knew she was just trying to give me encouragement, that I couldn’t make the right choices for Maxon, but still, that feeling in my chest grew heavier with the thought. “But that’s the problem, Mama. If he does turn his back? I’m not sure I can handle that kind of rejection from him again. I’m pretty sure it will crush me.”

Even after all these years.

“Love always hurts, Izzy Mae. That’s what makes it so important.”

I shook my head, not even willing to go there with her.

“I don’t still love him.”

The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkled. “You just keep tellin’ yourself that. You think a mama doesn’t know when her baby girl is in love? I knew it then, and I know it now.”

“I think you’re delusional,” I told her, trying to play the heaviness off.

She quirked a brow. “You mean old?”

Soft laughter rolled out. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

She moved back to her biscuits. “Well then, I guess you should be thanking your lucky stars that your mama still has it together enough to make your favorite meal.”

“And to butt her nose into my business. Don’t forget that.”

She swiveled a fraction, grinning wide. “Never. I’ll be meddlin’ until the day I die.”

“Lucky me,” I mumbled, going back to the potatoes, poking at them again.

“Damn right, you are.” She winked.

In amusement, I shook my head, and her smile softened. “No matter what happens, your daddy and I are here for you. You are never alone.”

I started to tell her how much that meant to me, but she beat me to the punch. “Of course, we don’t look quite as good as that man who has you in a stir. But I guess we’ll have to do.”