A Shattered Heart (Fractured Lives 2)

Bentley grinned down at her affectionately before holding out a hand for me to shake. "Kat, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, swallowing my hand with his own. I was relieved he didn't mention the first time we'd met. I didn't want to dredge up the accident now.

Locking my car, I led the way to my apartment, avoiding the space where Carlos had been stabbed. I couldn't help an involuntary shudder as we passed the spot. Despite my misgivings of having Mac and her EMT here, I was glad I wasn't alone.

It took Mac a few extra minutes to climb the stairs to my apartment. She was breathing a little heavy, but she refused Bentley's hand. I smiled. Mac had found her backbone.

Bentley and Brian grabbed the boxes from my car while Mac and I started emptying out my cabinets in the kitchen, which was sparse at best. It didn't take long to pack everything into one of my boxes.

"Thanks for your help," I told Mac as she wrapped the few plates I had in newspaper.

She rolled her eyes. "When did we start thanking each other for doing what we've always done? That's never going to change. I hope you realize that. You'll be eighty and I'll be handing you your dentures."

Tears burned my eyes. I blinked rapidly. "What makes you think I'll be the one wearing dentures?" I asked around the lump in my throat. "You're the one who's addicted to sweet tea."

"Please. Your sweet tooth is way worse than mine. I bet we'll find five different kinds of chocolate while we pack you up today."

I smirked. "Not a chance. I polished them all off the other day."

She snorted, placing my one coffee mug into my one and only pan. I should have thought about buying more for my kitchen, but it seemed like such a waste. I hated cooking and really, if you had a microwave you didn't need much else.

Once my kitchen was done, Mac and I moved to my room. We continued to chat and catch up while we packed everything. We were careful not to mention the accident, but Mac filled me in on everything else I'd missed. Like how Jessica's parents had moved to Idaho so they could be close to family, and how Tracey's mom had donated a portion of her money from the accident to a pet rescue foundation. This snippet of information was a double-edged sword. Tracey would have been excited about that amount of money going to something she was so passionate about, but the loss of her was a price we all had to pay. Tracey would never go to veterinary school as she had wanted. She'd never start an animal rescue ranch like she used to dream about. Tracey's dreams died that fateful night. All of ours had.

We took a break at lunchtime when the pizzas the guys had ordered showed up. The majority of the packing was done, all that was left were my bathroom and hall closet.

"Thanks for all the help, guys," I said, sitting cross-legged on my coffee table. There was an empty spot on my couch next to Brian, but I wanted to give the illusion of casualness. He shot me a look but didn't comment as he popped the tab on his Coke.

"So how long have you guys been an item?" Mac asked as I took a bite of my pizza.

The pizza caught in my throat at her question, making me choke. Coughing, I tried to dislodge the melted cheese and crust that were currently cutting off my oxygen. Bentley reached over and hit me in the center of my back once, making the pizza shoot as unladylike as possible out of my mouth.

"Thanks," I said as tears poured down my cheeks. I glared at Mac, who was giggling uncontrollably on the arm of the chair she was perched on.

"A couple of weeks," Brian answered, taking a bite of his own pizza without choking. Traitor.

"That's what I figured," Mac tossed out once she was done laughing at my expense. I waited for her judgment. A look exchanged with Bentley. A raised eyebrow. A look of bitter disappointment. Anything to show that she was disgusted that I was hooking up with my dead boyfriend's brother. She did none of those. If anything she looked happy as a clam as she polished of her own slice of pizza.

She licked her fingers and turned to Bentley. "That means you and Brian have to be friends."

"Um, okay?" Bentley said, giving Brian a look that pretty much conveyed he'd do anything to keep Mac happy, even if that meant befriending her friend's boyfriend. "Do you want us to braid each other's hair too?"

"And paint each other's nails?" Brian added.

"Yes to all of the above," Mac quipped, grinning at me wickedly.

Bentley tugged her down into his lap. "Whatever you want, woman," he said, sealing his lips to hers. Mac giggled and tried to squirm away, but Bentley held her fast, deepening the kiss until her giggles died away. I looked away, feeling like I was intruding. I could see Mac and Bentley belonged together. I was wrong to have judged her so harshly before.

The rest of the packing was relatively painless and by the time Dad showed up with the U-Haul we were done. If Dad thought it was odd that Brian was there helping us out, he didn't comment. That was one perk of having an analytical father. He didn't put much stock into the emotional or gossiping aspects of life that most people dwelled on.

My apartment was quickly emptied out by the guys. Mac and I did minor cleaning, though the dreariness of the apartment made it hard to tell.

"No offense, Kat, but this place was a real shithole," Mac observed, trying to scrub a burn mark off the counter that had been there when I moved in.

I laughed, flicking my rag onto the counter and giving up. "Tell me about it."

"And you picked here to live, why?"

I shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I wasn't ready to be acclimated with regular society, I guess." I glanced around the room, seeing all of its ugliness, but I couldn't help but feel a certain kinship with the apartment. For a long time it represented how I felt inside. Lost, neglected, and incapable of love. It would forever hold a special place in my heart. It offered a sanctuary when I needed it the most.

"I get that," Mac said, tossing her own rag on top of mine.