Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

By the time he got to them, she was solid and in control. She took the news well and insisted on driving home while he followed. I wish like hell I could have been with her, but I had to handle the mess left behind.

“You want a drink?” he offers.

“Yes, I want to down a bottle, but it won’t help.”

“She dozed off with the beast laid at her side. He’s going to be groggy for a while, and the pain killers prescribed are going to make him loopy.”

“As long as he’s not in pain.”

“I got her side of the story. Want to share yours?”

“In hindsight, I should have called Connie right away, but I figured tonight would be safe. Stupid decision. She got wind of our engagement and called Maya, in an outrage, while I was showering. Maya says she tried to ease the news by explaining some of the things I told her while we were at the beach and my previous relationship with Darby. Connie lost her mind, called me a liar and told our daughter that Darby is a home-wrecker. Maya is not equipped to deal with her mom’s brand of crazy. One thing led to another, and after convincing her that Runner was a threat to Connie’s health, Maya opened the door, pushed the dog outside, and the rest is history.”

“Sounds intense.”

“You have no idea. Losing Runner would have destroyed Darby.” Her face pops into my head, the terrified yell that stopped my heart playing on a loop.

“How’s the kid?”

“He’s fine, but that’s another story. His dad showed; he’s a lawyer. Immediately, they shifted the blame.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Her adrenaline crashed pretty hard. She’s regretting a lot of what she said to you.”

“She didn’t hold back, but she had good reason. Jesus, Evin. It’ll be a long time before I can forget the horror on her face and that bone-chilling scream. The image of her standing there, covered in blood, her dress ripped, cuts and bruises covering her legs.”

“Runner is pretty special to her. He took the place of the baby she couldn’t have.”

I wince, rubbing the throbbing ache that’s hammering against my ribs. “I better get inside.”

“I told her you were coming. I also went ahead and moved the mattress to the floor in the living room. Runner’s too drugged to jump up, and she’s not leaving his side.”

“Appreciate it. I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. I hope you can get this straightened out. Call me if you need me. Mom and Dad will be by in the morning to help.” He swallows the last of his beer, flicks his fingers in the air, and leaves.

I watch him drive away and quietly let myself in. Darby is awake, watching the door with a weary grin. “Hey.”

My feet take me straight to her side, where I squat to eye-level. “Hey, yourself.”

“I heard you talking.”

“Sorry if we woke you.”

“I didn’t know I’d see you tonight.”

“Where else would I be?”

“Did you take them back to Connie?” I notice she doesn’t use their names.

“They are with my parents. Cole is flipping out. Maya finally stopped crying. She realized her mother lied to her, used her to try to hurt you, and the guilt was too much. I didn’t know someone so small could cry that many tears.”

“We’re small but mighty.” She sifts her fingers through my hair. “Although, I’m paying for my herculean effort with every muscle.”

“How about I help get you to the bed?”

“Can you help me get him down there? I could use a glass of wine.”

I slide my hands between Runner’s body and hers, grunting at his weight. “I can’t believe you carried this beast. He weighs more than you.”

“Close, but not quite.” She fluffs the doggy bed laid beside the mattress.

I lay him down, and he huffs out a snort, which sounds distorted from inside the cone. There’s a shaved patch where his stitches are visible, and thankfully, it’s not nearly as bad as first believed from the amount of blood that soaked into Darby’s clothes earlier. “Tomorrow should be interesting when the anesthesia wears off. He’s not going to like that cone.”

“He’ll probably sleep a lot. The pain medication has a sedative.”

I stand awkwardly as she pours a glass of wine, gets a beer, and brings them to sit on the edge of the sofa. There are no words for the guilt and blame weighing down my conscious.

“Have I ever told you how I found Runner? Or, should I say, how Runner found me?”

“No.”

“I was at a party with Stephanie, and the hostess kept bragging about her dog’s new litter. She showed us the puppies and explained there was one that wasn’t going to make it. The puppy wasn’t doing as well as the others, had stopped eating altogether, and wasn’t showing signs of maturing. They expected him to pass soon. There was speculation he’d have blindness, have growth disabilities, never walk right, and certainly never run. He was more than the runt in the litter. As if he heard them planning his death, he looked up at me and weakly shuffled over. I held him that day and knew he had a chance. I bottle fed him that night, and he sucked it down like he was starving. It was a running joke that plants wouldn’t survive under my care, so no one got their hopes up. But after two weeks of me going over and feeding him bottles daily, he perked up and started socializing. By week eight, I was attached, and he needed a home. Our first night at my place, I was a nervous wreck because taking care of a living being was a huge responsibility. He was asleep, and I snuck off to shower. When I came out of the bathroom, he was racing around my room, searching for me. Therefore, he’s named Runner.”