Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart, #3)(81)

Mack didn’t care. He’d turned his back and headed for his room so he could crash, until his father had said it.

“If she’s so good, maybe I should take her for a ride. Maybe her old mama, too.”

Rage had spiraled through the middle of him. Hatred bigger than it’d ever been.

But really, his father had only been pointing out who Mack really was. An example of their sick, depraved world.

It was the last time he’d climbed that tree.

Like he’d just told Ian, don’t draw attention to what you wanted to keep hidden.

To what was important.

To what was good.

And Izzy Lane was the only good thing in his life.

Sean started to pull her through the crowd in the living room and through the kitchen, smug smirk on the bastard’s face as he was leading her outside.

Izzy’s attention was locked on Mack the whole time.

Uncomfortable and scared.

She cast him one last glance over her shoulder as the door shut behind them.

That was all it took to send that whole philosophy flying out the window.

“Off,” Mack demanded.

Clarissa clawed her way closer, pouting like she thought it was sexy. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Don’t worry about what I do,” he grated, shoving her off.

Rage buzzed from Mack’s body when he stood.

He might as well have been on autopilot with the way he moved, no sense or reason, just one destination.

Pushing through the crowd, he ignored anyone who tried to get his attention, and the second he had his hand on the door handle, he flung it open and surged out into the deep, black night.

A firepit blazed in the distance, the heavens dense and darkened.

His gaze scanned the silhouettes of couples and groups that were sprinkled throughout the yard.

But there was only one who mattered. The one who’d gone off the far side of the deck with that asshole, over by a hedge of overgrown shrubs, close to out of sight.

Didn’t matter.

Mack was sure he could find her blind.

“Sean, don’t. Let’s just go. I want to go home.”

“No, you don’t. You want to stay.”

“No, I don’t.”

“I think you do.”

“Let me go.”

Fury split through the middle of Mack.

A physical rendering.

He ran across the deck and hurled himself over the railing, dropping to the ground, a rampage of violence skating through his veins. Every muscle hard. Possession riding high.

Fucker was so invested in defiling his Little Bird, he didn’t even notice when Mack streaked up behind him, unaware Mack was even there until he had an arm around his neck and was yanking him back.

“What the fuck?” he shouted, hands scratching at Mack’s arm and trying to get loose.

“Did the girl tell you she wanted to go home?” It was nothing but a threat at the prick’s ear.

“Mack.” Izzy sagged forward, pain and relief in his name.

“Why are you here?” he demanded, fear slicing through him, a hot, jagged knife at the thought of what might have happened had he not been there to protect her.

And he’d promised that he would always, always protect her.

Hurt and disbelief churned through her features, and Mack’s stomach was twisting in that fucked-up way that he couldn’t let it.

“You don’t get to tell me where I can go.”

“So what, you want me just to let this skeeze touch you when you don’t want to be touched? Turn my back? Is that what you want?”

She slipped out from the spot where she’d been pinned. Mack kept Sean locked, dickbag kicking and flailing like he thought he stood the chance to bust free.

Izzy spun on her heel to face him. The tears streaking down her face glimmered in the light. Torment was written on every inch. “No, Maxon. That’s not what I want at all.”

She started backing away, moving for the deck stairs, her head shaking. “But isn’t that what you already did?”

Mack watched as she turned and fled. He kept hold of the prick until she was safe and out of sight. Mack tightened his hold, kid choking, Mack’s threat low at his ear. “If I ever see you anywhere near her, they will find your body buried in the forest. You got me?”

Mack released him, and Sean surged forward, whirling around and holding his throat. “Are you fucking crazy?”

He guessed he’d always been when it came to Izzy Lane.

“You get one warning.” He pointed at the asshole who was still choking, and Mack backed away before he turned and jogged back into the house, his eyes darting everywhere.

But Izzy was gone.



Mack killed the engine of his car outside the shack that he called home. It plunged his world into darkness. Into an unbearable silence.

Just the whoosh of the trees and the howling of ghosts.

His mama’s voice in his ear.

Vapor and mist.

“You are better than the world you were born into.”

Groaning, he rocked his head back, squeezing his eyes closed before he forced himself out of the car.

It was a car that had been bought on the solid. Too bad every penny funding it had been dirty money.

Guilt lanced through his spirit, and he dragged his feet toward the house, only to freeze when that feeling rushed him from behind.