Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

And he loved me.

Now, he detests me.

My Infinity flies around the corner less than two minutes later, and Miller leaps out, tossing my fob on the seat and stalking to me. “Get out of here, and if you have any decency, give him the night with his kids.”

That striking pain hits my gut, but this time, I don’t bowl over. There are a lot of things I want to spout back, but the only thing that comes out is, “Thank you.”

He looks me over, shakes his head, and disappears through the back door of the restaurant, leaving me in humility.

I drive aimlessly home, emotions everywhere, but no tears. I can’t do this anymore. It’s a losing battle. My business can definitely keep afloat with the way things are going now. Solid income, great word of mouth, and now a presence in the social scene. It’s all there.

But I’m done with the cloak and dagger. It’s time to spill my guts.

After that, I’m signing the Brasher contract.

Chapter 9

Pierce

The rage inside is already brewing before I round the corner and spot the Infinity parked on the street. Darby is nowhere in sight, so I pull into the driveway slowly in case she’s waiting around back.

Nope.

No sign of her.

Maya is blowing up my phone with text messages. She wants to know what we’re doing this summer since Miller mentioned us all going to Myrtle Beach. Then Connie joined in about the vacation. She felt like being with the kids was a family affair.

At dinner, Mom looked sick, Dad looked resigned, and I was the one to point out that work was important for bills to get paid. Needless to say, my kids’ end of the year celebration was tainted with a total black cloud. That’s why Miller worked hard to cover the uncomfortable vibe and may have oversold the idea of a summer vacation. It worked for a while.

Then the dessert presentation came to our table. I thought Connie was going to come out of her skin when offered Darby’s selections. Dad overlooked everyone, ordered his favorites, and Mom tried to keep the peace.

I knew something had happened before I walked into the restaurant, but Miller kept shooting me looks that told me he’d explain later. As soon as Connie drove off, he unloaded.

I was torn between being thankful to him for stopping what could have been a nasty confrontation and wanting to kick his ass for being such a dick to Darby. She was clearly at a disadvantage in that situation. Once again, I found myself wanting to protect her, which pissed me off even more.

I grab my phone and see three missed calls from Connie. Against my better judgment, I return her call.

“Hey,” she answers on the first ring.

“Are the kids okay?”

“Of course.”

“What’s going on?”

“It was a great dinner tonight, don’t you think?”

“It’s always a great dinner when my parents celebrate the kids.”

“Thank you for including me.”

“Didn’t have a choice when you put me in a bind.”

“Don’t be a jerk. We had fun as a family.”

“What do you need, Connie?” I walk around the corner of the house and stop dead.

“We should talk tomorrow.”

“About what? We had all night together.”

“Maybe we should discuss the living arrangements again.”

“No. I need to go.”

I hang up and stare at the sight from the sidelight of my porch. Darby is laid out on my oversized porch swing with her arms and legs curled around the pillows, asleep. The closer I get, I notice she’s not actually curled around them; she’s clutching them securely in a protective hold. The Darby I remember was always a bed hog. She loved to spread out—arms and legs everywhere. We’d fall asleep wrapped around each other and wake up with her all over the place. Many times, we’d wake up upside down because she’d turn over, and on instinct, I’d follow. It never bothered me because I liked that, even unconscious, we fit that way. Most mornings, I’d wake up before her and lie there, listening to her shallow breaths and feeling nothing but peace.

There’s nothing peaceful about her position tonight. She looks small, frail, and afraid. I crouch down and put a hand to her shoulder to wake her. She darts up in a frenzy, searching the area until her eyes land on me. I hold my breath for a brief second and watch the cloud of doubt cover her expression. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you,” is all she says.

I stand, offering my hand, which she takes as I lead her into the house, turning on lights as I go. Her hand tenses in mine, but I take her straight to the kitchen, thinking she will be more comfortable.

The mistake rains down on me immediately as her hand snatches out of my grip, and I turn to see her white as a sheet, staring at the refrigerator. “Maybe we should go back to the porch.”