Page 85 of Broken Hearts

Sage turns her face into my neck, resting her lips against my skin. “Tell me something about him,” she murmurs. “Something that…I don’t know, was important to you.”

I blow out a breath, knowing that this is something Sage will probably ask me for a long time, given all the years she missed out on with him. And while once that question would’ve pissed me off, preferring instead to keep my stories to myself, now it doesn’t.

Now, I want to tell her everything.

The good.

And the bad.

“When your dad first took me in,” I start, knowing this story is exactly that—good and bad. “I was such a little shit.”

Sage lets out a soft laugh, elbowing me gently. “Yeah, I think you might have mentioned that.”

I glance down to find her smirking at me, and I chuckle, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose. “No, I mean, I really was, though,” I tell her. “I was so fucking angry, and I didn’t trust anyone, least of all this guy who acted like he wanted to look after me. I figured it had to be a con.”

“A con? Why?” Sage asks, shifting so she’s sitting between my legs, half turned so she’s looking at me, her body wrapped in my arms.

“Foster parents get paid, Sage,” I tell her. “It’s supposed to help cover the costs of looking after us or whatever, but more often than not it gets spent on booze and drugs. I figured Mitch was like all the rest. Didn’t give a shit about me, just about the money he would get.”

She rests a hand on my jaw, her eyes sad as she waits for me to continue. It’s weird because I’ve never told this story to anyone, and yet I want to tell her. I want to tell her everything because she’s still here. And not just that, she’s staying.

For me.

No one ever stays for me.

“It took me a while to realize that Mitch wasn’t getting any money, that he’d told them he didn’t need or want it,” I eventually continue.

Sage smiles at that, curling her hand around the back of my neck as she pulls me in for a kiss. “That sounds like him,” she whispers.

I kiss her again as a million different thoughts and images and feelings now wash over me. Images of the life I’m going to get to have with her, all the feelings I’ve been trying so hard not to feel for her. All of it just unleashes inside of me, needing to get out.

“I love you,” I whisper, brushing my thumb across her cheekbone.

Her smile changes, into something sexy and sweet and all mine. “Love you too,” she whispers back before she adds, “Keep going.”

With a teasing groan, I drop my face into her neck, nuzzling against her. “My last foster parent was pissed,” I continue. “Pissed he’d lost his cash cow, pissed at what Mitch had done. Apparently, they were looking into things and there was a chance the other kids he didn’t give a shit about were gonna be taken away too. He was gonna lose all his bank.”

“Good,” Sage says, nodding her head. “He shouldn’t have been allowed to have anyone.”

I nod once, my eyes moving to the ocean now, thinking Sage doesn’t know the half of it. And I’m not sure she ever will because while I might be able to tell her the good and the bad, I don’t ever want to subject her to the ugly.

And there were times when things were really fucking ugly.

“He came here,” I now say, my mind flashing back to the day, to all the things that happened.

“When?” Sage asks, her words low.

I shrug. “Maybe a couple of weeks after I was taken from him.” I pause, swallowing hard, because it doesn’t matter how much time exists between that day and now, the fear and the pain never goes away.

“Nate,” she now whispers, her hand resting over my heart, which I know she can feel pounding in my chest. “Tell me what happened.”

I nod, because I do want to tell her, even though it’s fucking hard when I’ve never told anyone. “He came into the shop,” I say, my gaze on the setting sun. “Mitch had run upstairs, so I was there by myself, I was…” I swallow again, willing myself not to bolt, to not get angry or pissed or just stop. “He walked right up to me, grabbed me by the neck, lifted me off the ground and slammed me against the wall. He was drunk, he fucking stank of beer and weed and fuck knows what else.” The words are pouring out of me now, as though the second I give voice to them, I have to get it all out. “He held me there while he slammed his other fist into my stomach so fucking hard I nearly puked. I thought he was gonna kill me this time, he was so angry he wasn’t getting his money. Told me it was all my fault, that I was just one big fuck up and now I’d fucked this up for him too.”

Sage sniffs, and when I glance down, I can see she’s crying, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she watches me.

“Hey,” I say gently, brushing her tears away. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she says, shaking her head. “I hate that all this happened to you.”

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