Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(17)

Sorrow constricted my throat, making everything tight, my heart and my stomach and my skin. “And how do you stop being afraid of the one thing that can destroy you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you slay it.”





Five





Izzy





Four Years Old





Fear crawled all over her, like ants were marching across her skin, bitin’ everywhere they went. She hugged the limb tighter, so scared to let go, but the bark was rough and hard and it was gettin’ harder and harder to hold on.

It hurt.

It hurt.

But it was gonna hurt way, way worse if she fell the rest of the way to the ground, and she was gonna get into so much trouble.

A breeze rustled through the trees, and the branch she was clinging to swished to the side.

Her eyes stung so bad, her tears hot where they were streaking down her cheeks, making her hair stick to her face.

Don’t look down.

Don’t look down.

“Help!” she cried out again, her throat hurting almost as bad as her arms from screaming for so long. “Please . . . someone help me! I want my mama!”

Her arms were shaking as bad as the leaves, and the tears were coming faster, her arms tired and weak.

Her daddy had told her she was gonna get a broken leg or a broken head the last time he’d found her climbing up and down, so, so mad, crying, too, and saying he’d never been so scared.

She’d promised she’d never, ever do it again.

But the tree—the tree was her favorite place.

“Help,” she whimpered more, quieter this time. “I don’t wanna be alone. Please. Someone help me.”

Her stomach felt funny, like she was gonna throw up, the heat on her skin too hot and sticky, her head feeling light.

Her head flopped a little. Her hands started to slip, and she scrambled to get a better hold, before she was right back in the same position and slipping again.

She almost was giving up, letting go, because her daddy was down in his library and her mama had gone to the store and she was supposed to be in her bedroom playing with dolls and she’d been out there alone for so long.

No one was gonna find her.

“Please,” she sniffled, the word not even reaching the air, knowing it was too late.

She thought her mind was gettin’ lost in one of the faraway worlds she liked to make up when she saw movement at the edge of the yard. She frowned and tried to wipe her eyes on her shoulders without letting go of the tree.

It was a boy.

A boy who was running across her lawn, his hair like white flames where he sprinted across the yard beneath the bright summer sun.

His big brown shoes flopped as he ran, and he wasn’t wearin’ a shirt, just an old pair of ratty pants.

“Help,” she shouted again, a rush of strength racing through her arms. “Help! Over here!”

He skidded to a stop beneath the tree and peered up at her. “You been yellin’ up there? I could hear you all the way to my house.”

Izzy’s heart raced, more scared than she’d ever been, her arms close to slipping. “Yes, I need help. Go get my daddy. Hurry fast.”

Except he wasn’t running for the front door, he was starting to find his footing at the base of the tree. “Hold on, I’m gonna get you.”

“You’re not big enough.”

He scoffed like that made him mad. “I’m plenty big enough. You want me to just leave you out here? You’ll be nothin’ but a splat of blood on those rocks if I don’t get you right now.”

She wailed at the sound of that. “Please don’t let me be a splat of blood.”

“I’m not gonna let you fall,” he told her, his voice sounding like laughter, climbing higher and higher, propelling himself up with his hands and feet, so fast she thought he might be flying.

He made it all the way up to where she was, and he looped an arm around her waist and hauled her up so she could sit on a branch, freeing the weight from her arms. And it felt so good and hurt all over and she was crying again.

Relief.

She wanted to hug him and hug him and hug him.

“What you cryin’ for, Little Bird?”

Hiccupping, she wiped the tears and the snot from her face. “Cuz I didn’t wanna die. You saved me.”

He laughed. “I wasn’t gonna let you die, silly. I heard you, and I came running. That’s all you gotta do. Just start yellin’, and I’ll know when you need me to save you.”

She sniffled a little, a smile pulling to her face. “Okay. But what if you’re not strong enough?”

Except, he seemed pretty strong. Maybe even stronger than her daddy. Brave to come rushing right up that tree like it was nothin’.

“Psh. What are you talkin’ about? Don’t you know I’m a dragon?”

He flexed his scrawny arms, his biceps the size of tangerines.

“A dragon?” she asked, curiosity making her eyes pinch.

“Dragons are the strongest and the fastest and the fiercest. So scary. Just like me. Except you don’t gotta be afraid because I’m a good dragon. Even my mama says so.”

“Okay,” she agreed super fast because that sounded just fine to her.