All of Me (Confessions of the Heart 2)

Criss-crossing my legs, I pulled her onto my lap and wrapped an arm around Thomas. He snuggled into my side, my nine-year-old putting aside his shield of armor that he typically wore in favor of consolation during the late hour.

Sophie Marie continued to sleep through the ruckus, her tiny breaths filling the air as I opened the book. The pages were full of freehand drawings, and I opened my mouth and whispered the words to my older two children who snuggled closer.

“Once upon a time, there was a prince and two princesses. They were the most fearless in the land, held hostage by a ruthless king. The prince . . . the prince wore a crown of rubies . . .”

I squeezed Thomas just a little tighter. I could feel him fighting an affected smile.

“The baby princess wore a ring of sapphire, and the sweet reigning princess wore a pendant of diamond.”

Mallory flapped her arms in excitement, lost in the inflection of my voice when her character was woven into the story.

“But they weren’t only brave, they were also smart. So, one day, they came to their handmaiden who cared for them with every ounce of her being. They were sure she had their best interest at heart and would help them no matter what. They knew she would help them make a plan to break free from the castle. They knew of the endless maze of bushes that grew ten feet tall around the castle, confusing any reckless warriors who dared come against the king. Many had been lost to the maze, their minds sent into a permanent bewilderment that left them wandering throughout their years. But not the prince and the princesses . . . they knew a secret way, their loving handmaiden helping to guide them as they set out into the night . . .”

Only our story wasn’t so much a fairytale.

It was our reality.

My children nothing but pawns in an elaborate game. In the end, I knew I’d be the expendable one.

All signs pointing to a tragedy.

For them, for us, I refused to let that happen.

I wouldn’t stop until we found our way out.

Five

Ian

I’d been sitting in my office for the last four hours with the contents of a file spread out in front of me. Pretending I could focus on reviewing the details for a case that was going to court next week rather than the fact I was actually sitting there, all spun up and feeling like I was going to go right out of my mind.

A fucking pussy who couldn’t shake the feeling that had been chasing me down for the last two days. This cagey urge to get wrapped up in the middle of something that I had no tie to. No binding or connection to the situation other than a random encounter at a bar.

But when I closed my eyes and the only thing I saw was that stunning face, it made me feel like I was. Like I’d already stumbled into something that I couldn’t climb out of.

Her wallet was burning a goddamned hole in my pocket, and not because I was itching to spend the whole fifteen dollars she had stuffed in there.

I was going to take it and that bracelet to her, make sure she was okay, and then get the hell out of there.

Put the girl out of my mind.

My phone rumbled on my desk, and I exhaled, thankful for the distraction, even though the chances were stacked high that it would be some stupid question that I’d have to grin and bear. Teeth clenched tight while I pretended like I cared as a client droned on about something insignificant or irrelevant.

But at least I could allay the annoyance, knowing a five-minute call was an easy five-hundred made. You’d think they’d stop with the inane bullshit when they realized how much their stupidity was costing them.

Guessed I shouldn’t complain.

But this grin? The one that spread across my mouth when I saw who was calling?

It was real and unstoppable and knocked down a piece of that wall.

Immediately, I reached out and accepted it.

A face that was so much like mine popped up on the screen. The two of us resembled each other so closely that I felt like I was looking into a mirror when I looked at him.

That was where our similarities ended, though. My brother was made up of courage and strength and loyalty. I was built of greed and immorality.

I could only wish I could be as good as the guy smiling back. But I gave up on that idea a long, long time ago. It wasn’t gonna happen. Some things were just embedded bone deep.

Still, I admired the asshole, the guy carving himself out a spot in my bleak, black heart. For being the one who’d kept it beating for all those years.