Shattered and Shaken Read online

  I shake my head “Nope. There's nothing we need to discuss. You lied to me, used me, and left me... nothing more needs to be discussed. You're a dick,” I shrug.

  He lifts his eyes to the sky and lets out a grunt. “You're impossible, you know that?”

  I'm impossible, really? I kick his shin. “Ow, what the fuck was that for?” he asks, rubbing the pain out of his leg.

  I huff, “Because you're an impossible dick, that's why.” Why the hell is he here asking dumb questions? He deserves everything I throw at him and more. I push myself from my seat and open the door to enter the house. I wish I could keep my mouth shut, but this is me. That’s just not going to happen. “You crushed me, Wyatt; leaving me broken and vulnerable - that's what the kick was for. You have no idea the heartache I went through. The decision you left me to make, by myself, was one of the hardest decisions a woman could ever make...” I will not cry any more tears over him. I force down the quiver that’s trying to come up. “And if I had a gun, I'd blow your balls off,” I manage to spit out with as much sincerity as I can muster, before going inside the house.

  ***

  BLAKE’S WORKING AND SOPHIE’S vacationing with her parents, so it's just me and my Kindle. Three hours later, I'm still on the first chapter of a book I've been dying to dive into. My brain's overloaded with emotions. I'm angry, annoyed, humiliated, dismayed, aroused; any emotion you name, I'm feeling. All the years he’s been away, I wished for his appearance, but now that he's here, I want him gone, kind of. I’m conflicted. I hate that my body reacts to him positively. I hate that my heart aches for him to tell me he's sorry and that he loves me. His being here has me strung out. Blake's repaired my heart, and once again, Wyatt's tearing it apart.

  A knock on my door startles me. “Come in.”

  Wyatt ducks his head in. “Sure you're not going to shoot my balls off or anything?” he asks nervously. Why the hell not! I’m too exhausted to fight.

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” I scoot up my bed and cross my legs, providing space for him to sit.

  He takes a seat almost a little too close for comfort. “Butterfly,” he begins, placing his index finger over my parted lips, which really pisses me off, even more so as his touch sends a tingle through my system. “Let me say what I came here to say and I'll leave, if that's what you want.” I close my lips and he continues. “I know you hate me, and it kills me to know I inflicted so much pain on you. I never wanted to leave you behind, but Kyle insisted it'd be best for me to just disappear.” His eyes mist as he speaks. His words remind me of the video Kyle recorded, telling me Wyatt did as he was asked.

  “Where did you go, Wyatt? Did I not mean enough to you? You couldn't give me an explanation? Why?”

  He swallows so hard I hear his saliva travel down his throat. “Al, Kyle stood up for me on so many levels. He protected me from my father; he accepted me as his brother. When he decided to join the military, I couldn't let him go on his own. I followed him.” He reaches for my hand, and this time I allow him to take it.

  My eyes would normally tear up, but the creek's dry this time. “Go on.”

  He nods. “I was so pissed that he made the decision to enlist without talking to me first, so pissed.” He bounces his fist on his knee. “I had to make sure he was safe, make sure he came back to you, even if that resulted in me dying. I was determined to keep his heart beating, for you,” he declares, squeezing my hand. His words make my throat constrict; I want to reach out and hug him, thank him, but I don't. He continues with his explanation. “That night I saw you in the kitchen crying, all I wanted to do was comfort you. I wanted to make your pain go away; I did it the only way I knew how. The conversation I had with Kyle didn't pop in my mind until you fell asleep in my arms that night. I watched you the entire night, never took my eyes off you…” His voice trails off as he struggles to compose himself.

  And just when I thought my eyes were dehydrated, they fool me. I scoot closer to Wyatt, letting him know that it's okay to cry, man or not. His hand cups the side of my face. “I never wanted to hurt you, Butterfly. I'd never intentionally hurt you,” he whispers, a tear rolling down his cheek. My eyes are filled to the rim with water. I can't tell him that I believe he wouldn't intentionally break my heart, because he did. He had a choice to tell me, but he didn't.

  Now that I think of it, it should’ve been obvious. Each time Kyle was away training, I never saw Wyatt. We would talk over the phone, but he’d tell me he was visiting a family member out of state, or picking up some extra shift at work. How could I have been so blind?

  He brings his face closer to mine, the tips of our noses touching. “I love you, Allie. I've never stopped. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you, forever.” He captures my mouth, his tongue begging for entry, but I refuse.

  I shove him away. "No. No, get out. Now!” I scream, attempting to dry the tears he doesn't deserve to see shed. He stares at me, speechless. “Get out, Wyatt!” I push him hard several times, but he doesn't budge. I jump off my bed and grab his arms, trying to pull him up and off my bed; he's too strong. So I do the only thing I know to do to make him leave; I punch him in the chest.

  He stands up and holds his arms to the side, giving me full access to his body. “Go ahead, baby. You can't inflict any more pain on me than what I've felt every day over the last four-and-a half years,” he confesses.

  I consider his confession for a moment, and then I go at him again, full force. I punch him repeatedly. “You inconsiderate, insensitive, arrogant, virginity-taking, heart-breaking, piece-of-no-good shit! I hate you!” I sob, punching him with every word. I punch him for making me fall in love with him, and for making me give up the most important person in my life. And I hate that he enjoys the pain I’m inflicting upon him! I rear back and punch him in the jaw.

  “Yeah, is that all you got? Huh?” he sneers. “Feels like mosquito bites,” he adds.

  His words fuel me; it’s like adding gasoline to a fire. I take a few steps back and rear back my knee, aiming for his balls. As I lift my knee, his leg guards his jewels, and his arms capture me, squeezing me tightly. “I fucking love you. You hear me?” He turns me in his arms and looks me in the eye, searching my soul. “I'll leave, but you need to know one more thing. I've died a thousand deaths trying to return home to you, baby. I'll fight for you until all oxygen escapes my lungs and the beating of my heart goes silent. I'm coming back for you, promise,” he vows, kissing me tenderly.

  Well, promises are made to be broken, and the heart’s sole purpose is to be shattered. His promise means nothing to me.

  ***

  THE NEXT DAY I catch my mother leaving for work, but I grab her before she heads out. I take her by surprise when I pull her to me, hugging her tightly. She doesn't hesitate in returning the love, and we hold each other in silence. Our hug is more than an expression of love; it's us telling one another we're sorry without words. I feel her tear splash against my shoulder. “I love you, and I'm sorry for being- for being such a bitch,” I admit.

  She laughs, and it’s music to my ears. “You're not a- well maybe, sometimes,” she acknowledges.

  I place my hands on her shoulder and look her in the eyes, needing her to see my sincerity. “I truly am happy that you found love again,” I assure her. Her smile widens and wrinkles surround her mouth on both sides. As usual, her smile's contagious, and I can't help returning an equally large, genuine smile. It's a real smile, not a fake plastered one.

  She pats my cheek and turns to leave for work. “Mom,” I say, grabbing her attention.

  “Yes.”

  How do I ask this without sounding like a bitch? “Umm, why is Wyatt here? I mean, is he staying here?” I ask.

  She rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. He has nowhere else to stay, Allie. Trust me, I don’t want him here anymore than you do, but I can’t turn him away. Like it or not, he’s family,” she sighs. “He promises he won’t be here long, but be careful; I see he still has some
sort of effect on you,” she adds before exiting the door.

  The house is quiet, and I wonder where Wyatt is. His duffle bag is on the floor next to the couch, but his jeep is gone. I turn on the television and flip through the channels but nothing's on, nothing ever is. I go through our movie collection and stumble upon the DVD Kyle made. My instinct is to toss it aside, but I need to watch it. Maybe, it'll help my anger dissipate.

  I insert the DVD and press play. Kyle appears in front of his stereo. “Before you press the power button, listen,” he orders. I roll my eyes at how well he knows me. He presses play and our song begins to play. Turning the volume up, I bob my head, swing from side to side, and sing along, loudly. Andy Grammar's “Keep Your Head Up” is the best song ever. It was our theme song. The lyrics are inspiring and motivating. “Only rainbows after rain, the sun will always come again...” not true, but it sure does make you feel better, no matter what situation you're in. When you listen to this song, it makes you believe you can conquer all things, life or death.

  The song ends and Kyle's sporting his goofy grin. “That's it. I know it's probably a lame excuse for a video, but hopefully it put a smile on your face.” He reaches out to cut the recorder off, but stalls momentarily. “Oh, and Allie, remember to live like it's your last day on Earth. Laugh as if no one's watching, love someone until your heart stops beating. And most importantly, forgive and forget. There's no meaning in holding grudges or hate, it only affects you, not the other person. Life's too short to live any other way,” he adds before powering down the recorder.

  Kyle disappears and the screen goes blank, and to my surprise, I'm not crying.

  My stomach drops at the sound of his voice. “Man, I miss him,” Wyatt interrupts, hands tucked inside his pockets, his thumbs hanging from his belt loops. He sits on the couch, leaning up to rest his elbows on his thighs. “I tried to save him, you know. Tried to stop the bleeding, I tried to keep him alive, but I couldn't.” His head hangs and I see the tears fall to his jeans. “I held his hand in the middle of the ruckus, prayed for God to take me and spare him," he sobs.

  Going to him, I place myself between his legs. Resting on my knees, I reach up and wipe away his tears. I wish his being upset didn't affect me, but it rips me in two seeing him cry. “I'm sorry, Allie. I tried - fuck, I tried,” he's heaves.

  Without hesitation, I climb onto his lap and kiss him, taking away his pain momentarily. In this moment, no one else matters. We know the loss of the other. We both feel the pain of losing Kyle. The electricity that flows between us is undeniable. Wyatt picks me up and repositions us on the couch, laying me onto my back. “God I've missed you,” he murmurs, nibbling my bottom lip.

  I close my eyes and give into my desires, allowing his mouth to savor me, every inch of me, until my phone rings. Wyatt ignores it and continues worshiping me with his hands and mouth. “Wyatt, stop. I need to answer that,” I insist, scrambling to sit up. I grab my phone but I'm too late. I've missed the call from Blake. “I have to return this call. Should I go upstairs or can you keep quiet?” I ask.

  “I'll keep quiet,” he replies, his lips giving a lopsided grin.

  I'm in so much trouble. I feel sick. Guilt hits me. What the fuck was I thinking! I can't do this to Blake. I love him. I press send on the phone, returning Blake's call, but press end as soon as the phone began to ring. There's something I have to straighten out with Wyatt first. “We need to talk.”

  He follows me back to the couch. “Okay, shoot,” he urges.

  This is not going to be easy. “I'll be right back,” I inform him. I can't hurt him, sober anyway. Going into the kitchen, I go to the refrigerator and pull out my emergency bottle of Fireball whiskey. Two shots of this hotness and I'm invincible. After taking down four shots, I head back into the living room, slightly buzzed. I take a seat on the opposite side of Wyatt. “Okay. You can't barge in here and think you can pour your heart and soul out to me and I'll fall into your trap, because I won't,” I assure him. I’m impressed that my voice is holding and sounds resolute. Yay me! “The heart you shattered, the heart you left behind...someone's reconstructed and claimed it,” I point out.

  He's paying attention, but I can see in his eyes he doesn't believe a word that's coming out of my mouth; I continue anyway. “Wyatt, I had been low and lost without you. I searched for you every day. I Googled you, Facebooked you, nothing... I thought you were dead.” I take a deep breath to ease the anxiety that's trying to surface. “My soul was crushed. It took work to breathe, to live. Blake is the reason for that; he owns my heart. I can't break his. I won't,” I declare, blinking back threatening tears. “So please, if you love me like you claim, let me go. Don't make me fight the emotions raging through my body, just let me go, please,” I plead.

  He shakes his head in disapproval at my request. "No. I won't give up, ever. Allie, don't let your love for me go to waste. And yes, I'm going to make you battle with your emotions. It's the only way you'll be able to choose between who you want and who you need; you need me just as much as I need you,” he says, his voice firm.

  I wish he was wrong, but everything he's saying has an element of truth. He moves along the couch so that he's in front of me, using his thumb to trace back and forth across my chin. “And baby, when your fight overwhelms you, I'll be your soldier. I'll be here to catch you if you fall, and when you hurt, I'll carry your pain, always.” I wish I could break his heart, crush him to pieces like he did to me, but I don't have it in me. I hate that I love him more than I hate him, but what can I do? The heart wants what the heart wants, right? Wrong! My heart has no fucking clue what it wants. It's deceitful! He has no idea how difficult he's just made my life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE LAST FEW WEEKS passed by smoothly. Wyatt's staying here with mom and me until he can find a place to rent, and thankfully, things between us haven't been awkward. Sophie's still on vacation, and Blake's been working almost every day since we returned home from Nashville. Apparently whoever made the schedules, mistakenly scheduled several residents to take vacation at the same time, so Blake's had to fill in. I still haven't mentioned Wyatt being here; it's not a conversation I'd like to have over the phone. I need to look at him when we talk, because his emotions show through his eyes, not his demeanor. Okay, maybe I’m also a bit chicken-shit.

  I've made a point to keep mine and Wyatt’s relationship in the friend-zone category, nothing more, hopefully, no definitely, I think. You see, I’m still as confused as hell. Ladies, don't let anyone tell you, you can't love two people at the same time, because you can. My heart is conflicted. I truly love Blake; mind, body, and soul, I love him. This is exactly what I was afraid of, hurting him. If there's anything I can do to prevent from tearing him apart, I will. I've made a commitment to myself to stay with Blake, but sometimes things are easier said than done. When I'm with Blake, I feel loved, cherished, but not fully complete. With Wyatt, I feel complete. Despite the fact that he abandoned us, my heart’s sealed with love for him, and there's nothing I can do to break his hold on me.

  “Oh no, you’re thinking. Your thinking can be dangerous,” Wyatt teases, offering me coffee.

  Taking the coffee mug from him, I wrap my hands around the heat to warm my fingers. “Yeah, well, no one asked for your opinion, dick,” I mumble, taking a sip of coffee.

  He lies beside me on the bed in nothing but black Calvin Klein boxer briefs, his abs contracting as he chuckles at my eyes devouring him; not to mention, my tongue’s hanging out of my mouth like a dehydrated puppy. “Aww sweet, sweet Butterfly.” His fingers trickle down my neck and he takes a strand of my hair between his fingers. “It's not even 8am and you're already thinking about my dick. I'm flattered.”

  My coffee projectiles from my mouth. “You took that the wrong way, buddy,” I choke. Rushing to the bathroom, I wet a washcloth to clean up the coffee, praying it doesn't stain my sheets. Sophie's jokes would be endless. Her seeing diarrhea-like stains on my sheets, I'd never live that dow
n. As I scrub the stain, I look up to see Wyatt's eyes attached to my chest. “Can I help you?” I should've put on a bra, but it's early and it's not something I do until I've had my shower.

  “Actually, there's a lot you can help me with,” he says suggestively, grinning and winking at me. Shit, there he goes, making me damp between the legs. Oh Lord, if I'm going to resist this man, I need God to show up and show out, soon.

  “You're full of yourself. We're just friends, Wyatt,” I remind.

  He positions himself on the bed so that he's on his knees, resting his weight on his hands, and leaning into me. “Who you trying to convince, baby, me or you?” he whispers against my lips.

  Pull away, just pull away. “Me- you... I- I mean you,” I stammer, breathlessly. His breath against my lips is exhilarating. Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he moves closer to me, and I know he's ready to attack.

  “Please don't, don't do this,” I plead, panting. He knows how he affects me. He's playing dirty, resting his lips to the crease of my mouth.

  “Why not? You want me, admit it. Don't fight the temptation, baby,” he suggests.

  But I have to. I can't give in to him. “Wyatt, I'm begging you to please, please stop. Don't try to make me love you, again. When it comes between the two of you, I'll pick him,” I advise. Both he and I know it’s a lie, but if he knows that I still love him, he’ll use it to his advantage.

  Hesitantly, he removes his lips from mine and scrambles off the bed. “I'm only leaving because I can see the pain in your eyes, but rest assured, Butterfly, you'll be mine again. It's inevitable, baby,” he announces, exiting the room and slamming the door behind him.

  As soon as the door shuts, I become dizzy…. nausea claims me.

  I hide out in my room for the rest of the day, avoiding Wyatt. The nausea comes and goes in waves. Maybe I'm hungry? The only thing I've consumed today was coffee, and that was earlier this morning. It's late in the afternoon and I need to eat something; maybe it'll help reduce the uneasiness my stomach's experiencing.