Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Could barely force the words out around the torment crushing my ribs.

A tear got loose. He tried to hide it when he said, “Don’t worrrrry. It’s okkkkay.”

He seemed barely able to form the lie over the thickness in his voice. A lie I knew wasn’t done maliciously, not in any way, but to pretend like everything was okay.

Some days I knew it just couldn’t be.

I could feel my heart rioting against my ribs. “You can tell me anything. Did you know that? You can tell me anything.” My words deepened in emphasis, close to desperate. “Confide anything. If you’re hurting or scared, you can come to me. You don’t ever have to be ashamed.”

That blue gaze flashed hesitation before he was forcing out the response, “I dddon’t think I’m strrrong enough.”

Everything tightened. “Strong enough? You’re the strongest person I know.”

I was trying to get my voice to come out positive because fuck, it was the truth, but it was wobbling.

His crooked mouth hung open in the most heartbreaking sort of surrender. “It huuurts too bad.”

God.

I couldn’t handle this.

Couldn’t handle the desperate need to make this right and being completely powerless to do it. This kid’s plight was one I couldn’t undo no matter how bad I wanted to.

“I’m so sorry, Benjamin. I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. I wish I could change it.” My words were a tumble of grief.

He just stared at me, like he was trying to make sense of why and what this meant. Trying to process the awareness that clawed between us, a fierce force drawing us together.

Making a decision, I took a right and headed in the opposite direction of Izzy’s place and back toward my house. We rode in silence, and my attention was snapping around the yard as I pulled into the drive, a swelling of hostile protectiveness rising up within me at the thought of me putting this kid in danger by bringing him here.

Benjamin shifted in his seat, edging up to get a better look, confusion in his expression.

“What are we ddddoing here?”

“Want to give you something,” I told him.

He didn’t respond, just sent me a look of trust.

That kind of gutted me, too.

Ensuring nothing was awry, I returned to the truck and unbuckled this kid who had gotten so deep under my skin that I hardly recognized myself anymore.

I pulled him into my arms.

Holding him because I got that was what he needed right then.

Support and unwavering encouragement.

And suddenly, I was getting all the warnings that Izzy had given. The fact that this wasn’t easy—not in the least—but it was the most important job I would ever have.

He exhaled a shaky sound and wrapped his arms around my neck.

Devotion pumped.

Intense.

Overpowering.

Blinding.

Could feel it streaking my veins and settling as a firm reality in my soul.

I carried him inside my house and carefully set him on the couch. “I’ll be right back. I want to show you something.”

He nodded, curiosity filling his expression, the kid all bony and angled, the sight of him hitting me so perfectly.

Emotion clawed my throat. Anxiety and hope going on a rampage. I rushed to my room. A couple seconds later, I reemerged at the end of the hall.

Benjamin remained on the couch. The glow of the evening light flooded in around him, and he cast me a timid smile. Unsure of what was going on.

And I was praying silently that I could explain this to him right, that I might be able to make him understand the position I’d been in when I’d made the worst decision of my life—praying harder that he wouldn’t hate me—as I slowly approached.

I was carrying the book with the dragon drawn in stencil on the spine.

The one that I’d found in my mother’s things. The one that had always felt like it meant something. Held a power beyond the pages of a book. Magic in the words. Life in the illustrations.

Carefully, I sank down on my knees in front of him. “I want to give you something.”

He angled his head, eyes scanning the crudely, gorgeously drawn cover. “Whhhat is it?”

Could barely swallow around the massive lump in my throat. “It’s a special book. It’s a special book that my mom made for me, and I found it at a time in my life when I felt like I couldn’t go on. When I felt like it was hopeless and everything in my world hurt too bad. When I didn’t want to go on any longer. When I wanted to give up.”

His brow pinched, and I edged up on my knees a bit and set the book on his lap. “Inside, it’s a story about a boy who felt the same way. Like he didn’t have the strength to become who he was always destined to be. But he found a friend in what he thought was supposed to be his enemy, and through that, he learned who he was. He found power in that. Even though it was hard and seemed impossible.”