A Shattered Heart

  "I love you, Kat. I've missed you so damn much."

  "I love you too, Mac. I'm sorry I've stayed away so long. I was so scared it would hurt even more if I was around you."

  "I know, but you can't cut me off again, okay?"

  "Promise," I said, holding up my pinkie.

  She solemnly linked her pinkie with mine, sealing a bargain.

  Talking with her was easier after that. We stayed on her porch late into the night and when we became too tired to talk any longer we crept up to her room and had our first slumber party in two years. I fell asleep feeling freer than I had in a long time. I didn't need an amusement ride after all.

  Mac's parents acted like it was perfectly normal for me to be at their breakfast table the next morning. Her dad regaled us with funny stories while he cooked us waffles. Her mom sat in her usual spot sipping her coffee, reminding him to pay attention to the waffles as he exuberantly launched into another story. It was all achingly familiar and made my heart pinch at times, but it also felt so right. I'd missed all this.

  After breakfast I swore I'd call her later before I headed for my own apartment feeling lighter. Dr. Carlton would be proud of me in my next session. I would have to savor the moment.

  I was smiling when I pulled into my complex, but the smile evaporated when I spotted police cars and ambulances parked in front of my building.

  Eighteen

  My stomach dropped as I climbed from my vehicle and apprehensively approached my building.

  "Stay back," an officer said as I tried to step around the yellow tape that stretched from Carlos' patio to the side of the building.

  "I live on the second floor," I said with my heart in my throat when I spotted a sheet covering a body off to the side of Carlos' patio. It rested a few feet from the stairs leading to my apartment.

  "You live on the second floor?" he asked.

  I nodded, averting my eyes from the sheet.

  "You're going to have to wait to visit your apartment. This is a crime scene at the moment. We're going to want to ask you a few questions about the deceased, Carlos Esteban."

  I gulped as my eyes moved to the sheet-covered figure. Carlos was dead. My eyes became blurry with tears. I hardly knew him, but during the past year we'd formed an odd sort of friendship. I couldn't believe he was dead.

  "How?" I asked, looking back at the cop for answers.

  "Stabbing. It looks like the assailant stabbed him in the back when he was entering his apartment. When was the last time you saw the deceased?"

  I could physically feel all the color leave my face. Stabbed. Carlos had been murdered. The waffles I'd just consumed churned in my stomach, threatening to come up. "Last night around eight." I swallowed, willing the waffles to stay down. "He was on his porch when I headed out for my run."

  "Did you talk to him?"

  "We said hi but that was it."

  The officer jotted my answer down in his notepad. "Was he still on his patio when you returned?"

  "I don't know," I answered, glancing back at Carlos' draped body. It was like a train wreck I couldn't seem to look away from. "I didn't go back up to my apartment after my run. I headed over to my friend's for the night. Do you know who did this?" I asked. An image of Carlos' guest from a few weeks ago filled my head, making me shiver despite the near ninety-degree temperatures outside.

  "We have a few leads. Do you have somewhere you can go until we finish up here?"

  "Yeah, I can go to my parents'," I answered, not adding that they would shit when they heard about this. I had a feeling my days at this complex had come to an end. Seeing Carlos on the ground in front of me was all the convincing I needed.

  "That sounds like a good idea. Give me your number and I'll give you a call when we're finished up here. If you remember anything else about last night, you can let me know then." I nodded, heading back to my car.

  My feet carried me to my vehicle despite the fact that my knees were shaking. Sliding into my car, I fumbled for my keys, but my hands were trembling too badly to slide them into the ignition. It was like a scene from a movie. After several attempts, I finally got the key to go in, but I knew I was in no shape to drive. Pulling my phone out, I dialed the first number I could think of. I wasn't aware I was crying until the voice answered on the other end.

  "Kat?" the voice asked, etched in worry. "What's the matter? Did something happen?"

  "Can you come get me?" I whispered, ignoring his questions. "I'm in my car in front of my apartment." I hung up and rested my head against my steering wheel. Tears poured from my eyes in a free-for-all. I barely knew Carlos but his death was like an open wound.

  By the time the familiar jeep pulled up beside my car, my tears had dried up, though I was still shaking. Brian barely put his jeep in park before bolting out of it and striding around to my side of the car. He pried my door open and pulled me out. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, cupping my face and searching for visible injuries. His eyes darted toward the ambulance still parked in front of my building. I had the feeling he was ready to haul me over to the paramedic.

  I shook my head so he would know I wasn't hurt. "It's not me," I reassured him. "Carlos is dead." My eyes filled with tears again.

  "The drug dealer?"

  "He was my friend too," I clarified.

  "I'm sorry," Brian said, pulling me close. "How did he die?"

  I closed my eyes, wishing I could get the image of Carlos' sheet-covered body out of my head. "He was stabbed."

  Brian stiffened and pulled away. "Get in," he ordered, opening the passenger door of his car.

  Any other time I would have bristled at being told what to do, but I didn't think I was capable of making any decisions at that moment.

  "My purse," I said weakly as Brian shuttled me into the jeep.

  He nodded, reaching into my car and grabbing my purse and phone. He locked my car with the remote before handing me everything. I sat back in my seat, cradling my purse against my chest. Carlos was dead. How was it a person could go through their entire childhood without being touched by tragedy but the moment they stepped into adulthood they were bombarded with it? Adulting sucked major monkey asses.

  Brian pulled out of my complex and the weight on my chest lifted slightly as the distance between my building and us grew. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, relieved to be gone. It was probably a mistake to call Brian. After last night I was surprised he'd come, especially since he'd accused me of being selfish. I was pretty sure calling him in to rescue me fit into the selfish category, considering the fact I hadn't apologized for my behavior the night before.

  I opened my eyes to do just that but noticed he was going the wrong way. I'd assumed he was taking me to my parents' house, though I had no idea how I would tell them about Carlos, which is why I called Brian first. "Where are we going?" I asked as we neared the college campus.

  "My apartment. I've been staying in it since practice started back up."

  He pulled into a complex less than a mile from the campus. It was the same complex Dad had tried to talk me into a year ago. He felt it was a happy compromise from actually living on campus. At the time I'd balked at the close proximity to the college, craving more separation. Now it felt like a haven. The parking lot wasn't covered in potholes or broken-down vehicles. Every light in the parking lot looked like it was in functioning order. More importantly, the shady elements of my own complex were glaringly missing.

  "You okay?" Brian asked, turning to look at me after shutting the car off.

  "I don't know," I answered honestly. "Someone I knew was murdered where I live. It feels unreal, but this isn't some script for a bad TV crime drama. I don't even know how I'm going to tell my dad. He's been after me to move for almost a year now."

  "You're not living there anymore," Brian said with authority, climbing from the car and coming around to my side where I was still rooted to my seat.

  "You can't tell me where I can live," I told him when he opened my door.

/>   He reached a hand in, helping me from the car. "Do you want to live there?" he asked, bracketing his arms on the roof of his car and holding me in place.

  I weighed his words in my head. Did I want to still live in my apartment? I pictured returning to my apartment and walking by the spot where Carlos had been murdered. A shiver traveled up my spine as I pictured myself climbing my stairs trying to avoid the shadows. Could I do that? A resounding no answered my question. "Well, no, but it has to be my decision," I stated.

  "Fine, as long as you know that you'd be moving regardless," he said, moving in closer and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

  "You're not the boss of me," I muttered, noting the small dimple in his chin.

  His eyes twinkled with amusement at my words, but he refrained from commenting. "No, but I'm sure you would rather I didn't call your dad."

  "That's playing dirty," I muttered, tempted to bring my knee up to his crotch to wipe away some of his cockiness.

  "Maybe, but I care enough about you not to care about getting a little dirty. Do you have a problem with that?"

  I opened my mouth to answer but abruptly closed it. "Fine, I was going to move anyways," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. It wasn't entirely a lie. My lease was up in a few weeks and I'd recently been debating whether I wanted to sign for another year. The hassle of actually moving had been the only thing holding me back.

  "You were?" He quirked an eyebrow at me.

  "Yes, so it wasn't your idea. Now I have to find an apartment." I sighed, not ready to deal with that issue.

  "You can live here," Brian interjected, closing my car door.

  I gaped at him. "What?" He was crazy if he thought I was going to move in with him. We didn't even have a definition for what we were doing here. Sure, we'd slept together—more than once—but that didn't automatically deem us a couple. "I can't move in with you," I said, digging my heels in.

  "Why not?" he countered.

  "I could list a million reasons why not," I stuttered, looking at him incredulously.

  He surprised me by cracking up. "I was teasing," he got out between laughs. "I didn't mean move in with me, though I'm sure my roommates wouldn't complain. The complex has plenty of units available at the moment. If you jump on one now, you'll get it before the influx of students next month. You have to admit even your dad would approve of this complex."

  I digested his words. He was right about how Mom and Dad would feel about me making a move here, but did I really want to put myself in such close proximity of him? It had complicated disaster written all over it. "I'm not sure," I hedged. "I'll need to think about it."

  "Kat, this has nothing to do with us. This complex is perfect for you. It's far enough from campus that you won't feel bogged down by the whole college life but close enough that you can get around easier. Even if I wasn't living here I'd suggest this place."

  He walked up the short path, stopping in front of the first apartment on the second floor. I followed more reluctantly, almost afraid he'd think I was conceding if I checked out his apartment. In all honesty his suggestion was pretty appealing. I still hated the idea of moving, but not searching for a new complex was a pro.

  "So, what do you think?" Brian asked, handing me a Coke after I settled on the couch in his living room.

  "It looks like a typical bachelor pad," I answered.

  "That's because my roommates are total dogs. I'm talking about moving here. We can go down to the office now and start to get you squared away."

  I sighed, rolling my eyes. He was like a dog trying to get at a bone, completely relentless. "Not only are you bossy, you're also super pushy."

  "Not pushy. Assertive. I'm an action kind of guy. I see a problem and look for a solution to solve it."

  "You know I'm not your problem, right?" I said as he settled on the couch next to me with his own Coke.

  He popped the tab before answering me. "You know it won't kill you to accept help from other people, right? You won't spontaneously combust if someone does something for you." His knee brushed against mine. My head instantly filled with scenes from our night together. Neither of us had spoken about it, but I could feel it heavy in the air. It could have been my imagination, but I could sense he felt it too. I hated that I was so attracted to him. It felt wrong and seedy.

  "That's what you think," I quipped, finally answering him as I set my soda on a table that was littered with remotes. I didn't have a clue why they needed a half-dozen remotes. I leaned forward, lining them up by size in an attempt to avoid looking at him. His close proximity was tying my stomach into knots. I tried to remind myself why I was here. My mind refused to cooperate.

  He leaned forward and laid a hand on top of mine, stilling my remote control fetish. "Kat."

  The knots in my stomach loosened slightly at his voice. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help wishing I could lean into him and forget everything else for just a little while. I didn't move or look at him as I waited for him to say more.

  He didn't speak again though. Instead, he stroked his fingers across the back of my hand in small circles before traveling up over the back of my wrist. His touch was slow and steady as it moved up my arm. My breath caught in my throat as it found the bare skin of my upper arm. I could feel my resolve slowly disappearing as he lifted my arm and brought his lips to the sensitive skin of my wrist. We had a million things to figure out, but I couldn't make any of them stick around long enough to take root. All I could think about was his lips on my skin. I leaned into him, pushing all the reasons we shouldn't be together to the back of my mind.

  Nineteen

  Detective Morris called me late that afternoon to tell me I could return to my apartment. I was laying in Brian's arms on his couch when my phone rang and I debated not answering it. I'd been expecting the call that would signify they'd cleared Carlos' body away. The idea of returning to my apartment held no appeal. I knew I had to go back eventually, at least to pack a bag. I didn't think I could ever sleep there again.

  "I'll take you in the morning," Brian said, reading my thoughts once I hung up the phone.

  I was too grateful that I wouldn't have to return to my apartment to mind his assumption I would stay with him. Somewhere in the middle of making love I'd given up the will to fight my feelings for him any longer. He was bossy as all get out and might have been Dan's brother, which I was sure would earn us a fair amount of judging, but my attraction to him could no longer be contained. It wasn't just a physical attraction. Everything about him drew me in. His intelligence, kindness, even his assertive behavior. I liked being with him.

  "I don't have any clothes." I sighed, looking down at the clothes I'd borrowed from Mac. I'd shown up at her house in my running gear and she'd been more than happy to lend me something like we'd done almost all our lives. I didn't think to get any extra clothes since I was going home after I left her house.

  "You can borrow a shirt of mine to sleep in, or maybe you can sleep in nothing at all," he said, resting his chin on top of my head. He wrapped his arms around my waist, dragging me in closer.

  I nodded. "I should call my parents. God forbid they hear what happened on the news," I said, sitting up.

  "I'll order us some pizza while you call them," he said, standing up to give me privacy.

  With trepidation, I pulled up Mom's cell phone number. It wasn't going to be pretty. Mom answered on the first ring, and the call went pretty much like I expected. She put the call on speaker so Dad could add his two cents to the situation. His reaction was no surprise. He blustered that he knew something like this would happen, followed by telling me I would not be living there any longer. Mom agreed with him, but she was more concerned about my mental state and asked where I currently was. I stretched the truth and told her I was at my new friend's house. I finally hung up after reassuring them I had a safe place to stay tonight and promising I would stay with them until I could move into a new apartment. I silently vowed to make that a sooner than later
action.

  "Are they ready to send out the cavalry?" Brian asked once I hung up.

  "You know my parents," I sighed. I loved both of them dearly, but their overbearingness was hard to take at times. It was a habit for them to keep me on a tight leash despite the separation I strived for the last two years.

  Brian nodded, settling back on the couch with me. "They're a bit intense at times, but they have your best interest at heart."

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. "It must be in the water."

  He held up his palms in surrender. "I care about you. Sue me," he said.

  I tilted my head back and wove my fingers in his hair, dragging him closer just to show him he wasn't the only one in control. "I think I'd rather kiss you," I said, running my tongue along his bottom lip. I loved the fullness of it beneath my tongue.

  He shuddered in my arms. I smiled with satisfaction. At least I wasn't the only one affected.

  The pizza arrived before we could go too far, but we made up for the wait after we'd consumed every slice. We never made it to his room that night. Instead, we stayed on the couch long into the night talking and cuddling. The circumstances that had driven me to his apartment were forgotten. I suspected that had been his intention all along which only endeared him to me even more.

  The next morning we headed to his apartment complex office and within an hour I had a one-room apartment secured for the next twelve months, which left only the packing of my apartment.

  Brian had practice, so Mom met me at my apartment so I could pack a bag for my stay with them. It would take a couple days to get all the utilities switched to my new place, and everyone seemed to be in agreement I wouldn't be staying at my old one.

  Brian wanted to wait with me until Mom showed up, but I wasn't ready to cross that bridge yet. He didn't look pleased, but he must have sensed it was an issue he couldn't push.