Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

“If I had the answer for all the nonsense going down in your brain, I would be a very rich man,” Ian razzed.

“Cut it, man. You are rich. You wanna rub that in, too?”

Wouldn’t call his life golden, but the fucker had sure gotten lucky when it came to the dollar signs.

Ian laughed, and then his tone sobered. “Here’s the thing, Mack, you’re calling me for the answer, and you and I both know you already know what that answer is.”

“And what’s that?” I challenged, changing lanes and passing a couple of cars.

“You know this lands right back on your father’s doorstep. You’ve got to stop worrying that you’re going to follow in his footsteps. Make his same mistakes.”

“Already made plenty of them, haven’t I?”

The chokehold he had on me still felt like steel lining my ribcage. Memories of the path I’d been traveling. Who I’d almost become.

“Yeah, and you were a kid. A teenager who didn’t have a whole hell of a lot of a different choice. And you’ve been running around for the last twelve years, this badass cop, putting every criminal behind bars so you can prove that you’re nothing like him. Denying yourself happiness, thinking your life is what you owed.”

Ian’s voice twisted in emphasis. “Now it’s time to prove you really are nothing like him. Know you’re scared, and this fatherhood thing came from out of nowhere. Believe me, I get it. But the only answer to any of this is to step up and become the man you were meant to be. The man every single one of us know you are.”

The lump I’d been fighting for the last three days bobbed heavily in my throat. Every question I’d had about pushing my way into their lives rising to the surface.

“And what if that man isn’t good enough? What if I fail? Those boys . . . they’re . . . amazing.”

Affection and fear buzzed through my being.

“Not sure if I can risk bringing them into my life.”

“You really think there’s a chance you’re going to make their lives worse rather than better?”

“You really think I won’t?”

“Uh, yeah,” he shot back.

“You say that so easily. Look what I almost got you wrangled into when I first met you.”

“Again, you were fucking seventeen. And I think it’s pretty clear I went looking for any trouble I could find. It’s not like you dragged me into the sordid life. I was already there. And that was a long time ago, and you don’t come close to resembling that same guy. Hell, you didn’t then. Why do you think you raged against it so hard? Why do you think your father is behind bars now?”

“Izzy.” Answer to that was easy. I would have done anything for her.

“Izzy,” he dished right back, though he served it like a solution.

I sat there silent until he pressed, “Izzy’s here, man. Right there. What are you going to do about it?”

My head barely shook, guts knotted up in the lust that I hadn’t been able to shake since the first day I’d caught sight of her. Had only gotten worse with every interaction. With every pass.

Sunday night out on her porch had very nearly done me in.

“Want her,” I admitted, voice rough. “Want her in a way that’s not even reasonable.”

There I went, cutting myself wide open. But this was Ian. The guy who got me better than anyone else.

“And the boys?”

“Want them, too. In my life. Permanently.”

With Izzy right by my side.

Ian laughed like it was completely obvious. “Then it seems to me the only risk you can’t take is not fighting to have them in your life.”

“Wish it were that easy.”

“It is, man. It is exactly that easy. You go after what you want. You fight for it. You take it. You protect it with everything you have. It’s the only thing that we can do.”

I started to give him shit for being so goddamn sappy when my attention snagged on someone walking along the main sidewalk. He was turning into an alley that ran behind houses in a neighborhood about two miles away from mine.

Maybe it was the color of his hair or the demeanor of his stance, but I knew it the second I caught sight of him in my periphery. “Gotta go.”

Without saying anything else, I ended the call and made a quick left into the neighborhood while I called for backup. I jerked my Suburban to the curb and jumped out, heartrate ratcheting high.

I jogged as quickly and quietly as I could between two houses, eyes darting everywhere, keen, beating back the fury that wanted to come unleashed. Did my best to remain concealed and level-headed, hand on my gun strapped to my side as I slinked along.

A dog started going wild at the fence of the house on the left, barking and growling like a raging beast, paws digging under the wooden slats.