Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

I swallow hard, staring at the business card until I have my thoughts remotely under control.

“Hey, what’d y’all get your teachers this year?” Cole and Maya look at their mom for answers.

“I picked up some of these new chocolates my boss has been raving about. They sell them at the shop by the office.”

I jump to my feet, ripping the card, and tearing the delicate ribbons with it. “You need some cash?”

“Are you actually offering?”

“You usually have no problem taking my money. How much?” I try to sound normal, but the acid in my voice gives me away.

She goes back to glaring, and I feel like a dick with my kids as witnesses. I pull a few hundred-dollar-bills out of my wallet, fold them in half, and step closer to slide the money in her hand. “Do something nice for yourself this weekend while I have the kids, Connie. Thank you for picking up the end of the year gifts.” My focus goes back to Maya and Cole. “We’ll grill with Uncle Miller tonight.”

There are murmurs of approval as I say goodbye and ignore Connie’s inquisitive scowl.

When I get to my truck, my adrenaline is pumping so hard I’m light-headed. The card still tucked in my hand is like a burning poker on the skin. The fucking smell fills the cab of my truck, and I know she had her hands on those packages.

Chocolate was her specialty. That was twelve years ago.

I haven’t touched a piece of chocolate since.

•—•—•—•—•

“Where are you?” Miller’s shout is amplified throughout my truck.

“Going to be late.”

“Why am I not fucking surprised? I thought you were going to leave this alone.”

“I never said that.”

“You agreed Friday night to let this shit lie.”

“No, I drank beer and let you rant on about how this was nothing but a coincidence and trying to find her would be like opening a fatal war wound.”

“I didn’t get through to you at all. Waste of my damn breath.”

“Miller, this is Darby we’re talking about here.”

Just saying her name sends a pang to my chest.

“Nothing has ever been just Darby to you. That’s why I’m concerned. You’ve never had a clear head when it came to that chick.”

“You used to love ‘that chick’.”

“Loved her and then loathed her. That bitch nearly destroyed you. Leave her in the past.”

“You ever go to the depths of hell, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Until then, you need to back the fuck off and let me do what I need to do. If she’s in this town, I deserve to know.”

“And then what? Chase her down like the twenty-three-year-old pussy-whipped idiot that took the abuse the first time?”

Anger boils in my blood, and I swerve into the small parking lot to stop from turning around and heading back to the office to kick my brother’s sorry ass.

“You’re a fucking dick.”

“I may be a dick, but I care about you. Sometimes, the truth hurts, and you telling me about this may be the only thing that saves you from spiraling down the black hole we dragged you out of.”

That stings. Everything about this situation slices me up inside. He doesn’t need to remind me of the past; I lived through it. I fucked up big time, and not a day goes by I’m not reminded of that. Lucky for me, I have two great kids that help ease the regret from mistakes that should have been avoided.

“You know what she meant to me and what we went through,” I point out, grinding my teeth to keep from losing my cool.

“Just text me when you’re on your way to a job site. I have some papers that need your signature.” The line goes dead.

Having my older brother jump my ass is another fucking notch to add to an already shitty Monday. All weekend, my head was swimming with questions about Darby. Focus was impossible. For the first time ever, I asked Connie if I could drop the kids off early last night, lying about an early morning meeting that couldn’t be rescheduled. It was another dick move because the kids were already in bad moods. Cole didn’t like losing his video games, and Maya didn’t like getting a lecture from her dad about respecting her mom. In order to try to cover my ass, we went shopping, and I stocked Connie’s house with enough groceries to last a month.

One look at her when she opened the door proved she didn’t believe my excuse, but she didn’t push the issue. When I got home, I grabbed the scotch, opened my computer, and spent the next four hours glued to the internet. Then I sat staring into space, drinking more than I should have, thinking about what the hell I should do.

Every sensible thought told me to let this go. Self-preservation was at the top of the list. But my heart had other plans, and when I woke up this morning, the decision was made.