Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(10)

Three





Mack





I drove up the short gravel lane to Ian’s house, the sun a blister in the sky, my hands and my legs still shaking like a bitch. Squinting against the glare, I came to a stop in front of the house.

It was painted a light blue, the trimmings and porch white.

Quaint and sweet and homey.

Such a mindfuck that Ian was really living this life.

I shut off the ignition to my unmarked patrol car. The white Suburban with super tinted windows was supposed to come off as incognito. Still, it stuck out like a car coming at you in the dead of night with high-beam lights.

Pushing out a sigh, I just sat in it for a second, trying to get myself together before I went inside. But I couldn’t shake the girl from my skin, the surprise at seeing her.

The devastation that still remained clear.

Hurt flashing like a beast, toiling in the air between us.

Did I think she’d feel any different? Did I think that enough time had passed that she’d give me a quick, careless hug and offhandedly ask how I was?

Like she hadn’t thought about me in years?

But I guessed maybe that’s exactly what I’d hoped she’d done. Moved on. Found something bigger and better away from this dead-end town. God knew, I couldn’t give her the kind of life that she deserved.

Hoped she’d realized it’d been for the best.

Maybe even thank me for it.

Which was damned stupid because she didn’t even slow down long enough to thank me for buying her things, hightailing it out of there so fast I was left wondering if I’d hallucinated seeing her in the first place.

Hardest part was that feeling was still there, this sensation of coming alive when I was in her space speeding beneath my skin, seeping all the way down to my bones.

Need and lust? Yeah. They were there. No question.

But it was bigger than that.

Something unfound.

Special.

I guessed maybe that’s what it’d always come down to.

Izzy Lane was special.

I huffed off the confusion trying to drag me under and grabbed the box of diapers from the passenger seat, hopped out, and started up the sidewalk just as the front screen door was flying open and banging against the wall.

Mallory Paloma came bounding out at full speed.

If I said Sophie Marie was a ball of energy, Mallory was a tornado getting ready to touch down, though her velocity hit you in an entirely different way.

“Uncle Mack Attack! You’re here! You’re here!”

She clamored down the steps. Well, calling it that was actually a disservice, considering she basically soared off the porch, propelling herself into the air with a leap and a spin, landing in some kind of awkward backward plié. It almost had me dropping the diapers to sprint for her to keep her from falling and cracking her head.

The fumble didn’t even slow her down.

She booked it down the walk and threw herself at me, not even giving me time to adjust the diapers.

I caught her with an oomph, swinging her up into one arm while I tucked the box under the other.

“Hey,” she grinned with all her teeth, arms wrapping around my neck tightly as she leaned the rest of her body back, her pin straight white hair and bangs framing her cherub face.

Yup, another angel, this one with wings.

“Hay is for horses,” I told her, giving her a little tease.

“That’s the oldest joke in all of ever, Uncle Mackity-Yak,” she said, hiking a sassy shoulder.

“Oh, really?”

“How old are you, anyway?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowing in a combination of disgust and sympathy.

“Old enough to know better, apparently,” I mumbled under my breath. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to be cooler the next time I see you.”

“You can try, I guess.” Another shrug. “Not sure how that’s gonna work out.”

Awesome.

I was getting skewered by a 6-year-old.

I just was winning at life, wasn’t I?

“Breaking my heart here, Mal Pal. Breaking my heart,” I grumbled, starting up the walk.

She broke out in a howl of laughter. “I’m playing with you, Uncle! Don’t you know a joke when you hear one? You’re the coolest of all the coolest. At least that’s what my daddy says. Coolest guy around. That’s what he told Mommy.” Her head pitched to the side in consideration. “But that you’re gonna die alone because you won’t pull your head out of your ass. I don’t want you to die so you should definitely pull it out.”

My eyes about bugged out of my skull, and I stumbled to a stop, reminding myself to kick Ian’s ass once inside.

Glad to know I was such an interesting topic of conversation.

Her mouth puckered in an ‘o’. “Oops. I’m not supposed to say that, am I?”

“Definitely not.”

Not the word or that she’d let on that her dad was throwing me under the bus.

“Daddy says bad words sometimes, even the really, really bad ones, usually when he thinks we’re not listening or when he gets stressed out. Like he is right now. It’s a good thing you got here when you did,” she rambled, all matter of fact, that speeding train so easily jumping tracks. “Things are gettin’ crazy in there. Looks like a tornado hit.”