Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)
“Little Bird fly,” he muttered, close to incoherent.
Still, I heard it somewhere in my soul.
One second later, he was passed out, and I sat there in the muted light, watching him breathe.
The steady rise and fall of his chest.
The man so beautiful it wasn’t fair to my broken heart. My mind so conflicted and confused I had no idea where we stood.
My gaze caressed over him.
Like a fool, I reached out and traced my fingertips down the dragon he had tattooed on his left arm.
It appeared as if it were perched on his shoulder, the tail wrapping down and around his arm, the monster’s eyes red and confused.
Beautiful and deadly.
“My dragon.”
I knew if I got too close, I was gonna get burned.
Eleven
Mack
Seven Years Old
Mack darted through the forest, moving tree to tree, hiding behind their fat trunks as he stalked around the perimeter of the meadow.
Stealthy and fast.
He crouched down, peering out behind a big oak, her sprawling, spindly branches twisted and gnarled. Some stretched toward the sky before they drooped to the side, and others crawled along close to the ground, like fingers reaching out to dip into the yellow flowers that grew wild in the clearing.
Streaks of sunlight sheered through the sky, touching down like glittering darts on the toppled trees and gurgling stream.
Movement rustled in the middle of it, and Mack jerked, shooting to attention, before he went running to pounce.
Sprinting as hard as he could, he hurdled over a downed log, splashing into the water, coming up fast on the other side.
He dove, just barely missin’ the rabbit that went scurrying away.
He flopped onto his butt.
Dang it.
He wasn’t ever gonna be a hunter, especially if the only thing he could hunt with was his bare hands.
He froze when he heard the rustle from above. The tinkling laughter that filtered down, impaling him like those laser-beam rays of light.
He peered up into the dense tree that sat at the edge of the meadow. Already knowing what he’d find. Or who he’d find.
Her face peering down just as intently as he was peering her direction, the girl at least twenty feet up in the tree, and his chest was clutching in a strange way.
In a way that made him want to shout at her to get down.
“You missed it,” she said, like he didn’t know.
He scowled, not likin’ it one bit that she’d seen it. “What are you doin’ followin’ me? Thought I told you not to come down around here?”
It wasn’t safe.
There were snakes and spiders . . . and . . . and his dad.
Something ugly crawled under his skin. He had to stop himself from climbing that tree and hauling her down himself.
But there she was, perched in her nest.
She laughed, shifting around to sit on the branch. “Who said you get to tell me what to do?”
“Well, your pa sure isn’t gonna like it if he knew you were up in that tree.”
He was always yellin’ at her that she was gonna break her neck. Mack promised himself he wasn’t ever gonna let that happen. But he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stop it if she never listened.
She was always going on, doing her own thing, singing and laughing and playing.
Free.
Following him everywhere. He couldn’t ditch her, no matter how hard he tried. She was a pest, a tag-along who wouldn’t leave him be and made him feel strange in a way he wasn’t sure that he liked.
Her eyes went wide from her roost. “You wouldn’t go and tell him?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “And why shouldn’t I?”
She started to scramble down, faster than she should, her foot going for a branch that was too thin.
She stepped on it, and Mack’s heart lurched. He raced to get under her right as it snapped.
She screamed.
He stretched out his arms, trying to stop her fall, and her body hit his with a smack. It was nothing but a blur of her wild, wild hair, her flailing arms and thrashing legs.
He held her tight against himself as the impact sent him tumbling back onto the meadow floor.
Arms wrapped around her as fiercely as he could.
Protecting her.
Ignoring the pain when his head struck the ground.
Ignoring the way his chest felt funny when she scrambled around, her hands planted on either side of his head as she stared down at him. “You saved me again.”
“Told you I would.”
She smiled. Smiled this smile that was brighter than the sun that cast her head in a halo. “That’s because you’re my best friend.”
He frowned. “You can’t be my best friend.”
She frowned right back, still pinning him. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m a boy and you’re a girl.”
“So?”
He hurried to think of a better reason.
“Because I’m a dragon and you’re a bird. I might eat you.”
She laughed, her face twisting up in joy.