Page 152 of Splintered Hearts

Thirty Eight

Jamie

I’m dying.

Unlike the first time I almost died I don’t want to feel a thing. It was a sick thing I did the first time around after the accident. I refused meds, treatment, anything that would make me feel better. I wanted to be in agony every second of every day.

My body eventually sort of healed. My mind did not.

Now, every breath I take is a struggle. I want something to numb this feeling inside me but Brianna had come over yesterday telling me to fuck myself in many different creative ways. It’s safe to say she will not be hooking me up. I have no one to blame but myself. It’s better this way. I know it.

Grabbing my phone I click it for the hundredth time today just to feel that pain all over. I know I won’t have any messages but I just want to see my lock screen. I have a gallery of pictures of him but I don’t dare open that gate right now. The lock screen is torture enough.

Hunter had come over later that day, not saying a word to me but slamming Noah’s door shut, only coming out to go to work. I’ve fucked everything up but I need to talk to Mark, for Hunter.

In reality, I know this is best. Ari brought me back down to earth. Dragged me back to reality—something my so-called friends have let me lose my grip on. I’m worthless and Noah is so much better off. What can a foster kid who knows more about abuse than love ever give him? Nothing.

I’m nothing.

Walking into my bathroom, I flinch. Fuck, I look like shit. Dark circles cradle my red-rimmed eyes. It’s only been days but it feels like eternity. I just don’t know what to do with myself. I’m barely eating, barely sleeping.

The only thing I’m working on is my nearly finished mural. Coming back to my room, I stop in front of it. A tear trickles down my cheek before I wipe it away. I still have a lot of work left to do. It’s coming along fast, though. My back screams with the evidence of how hard I’ve been working on it. I need to keep busy.

Luci’s in the middle. My only anchor for years. When we first met, I thought I was in love with her. I wasn’t, though. Love takes all forms and it doesn’t always have to be romantic. She was my soulmate in every other sense of the word.

Then she was ripped from me.

I haven’t finished her face yet. I still want to add makeup of some kind. I want to ask Bri what I should give her, but I’ll wait until she doesn’t want to kill me. On the right is Xavi, Bri, and Mom. To the left is Hunter, even Mark, and Noah. Beautiful. Kind. Someone so beyond my reach it isn’t funny.

A knock echoes down the hall, and I nearly trip over myself running to the door. My heart sinks. I don’t know why, it’s not like it would’ve been Noah. “Well, shit.” Xavier looks me up and down. “Can, uh, I come in?”

“Yeah.” Letting him in, I go to the couch, sinking into it.

“Just wanted to come by and figure out why Brianna’s so pissed at you. Why is it so dark in here? Who died? Well, this time.” I glare. “What! It’s just a joke, man. It’s my trauma, I’m allowed to joke.” I know that’s how Xavi copes with everything. Him and Luci were really young when they were taken from their father.

Their birth mother had died giving birth to Xavi and they were left in the hands of a hateful man who blamed his infant son for the death of his wife. While Luci was only three when her mother died and five when Lia adopted her, she remembered some things in the hazy way kids did.

One night, while both kids were with a babysitter, his father had come home. Luci used to say she didn’t know what changed. He’d always hurt them, but nothing to the point of what happened that night. He came home, killed the babysitter, then went to Xavi’s room and tried to smother him to death in his toddler bed.

Luci was hiding in a closet, scared for her life. She had the babysitter’s phone and dialed 911, praying for someone to save them both. At just five fucking years old. Xavi had passed out and their father thought he was dead. She thought he was dead. Sirens and lights lit up the house and he was arrested.

It was pure luck that Lia had found them—adopted them. They were hers. At the time she’d been working at the station when their father was brought in. When she heard what had happened she asked what was happening with the kids.

Foster care.

It had been years since her husband passed away, and more and more the thought of adopting or fostering children had been on her mind. It wasn’t easy, there were a lot of hoops to jump through, but that was it.

She was theirs.

“No offense, but you smell like shit.”

“Fuck off.”

“Where’s Noah?” I’m feeling dizzy. It’s way too hot in here. Did Bri not tell him? “Whoa, hey.” Xavi squeezes my shoulder, immediately taking a step back. “That is strong.” I glare but what’s the use. I don’t think I’ve showered since coming home and breaking Noah’s heart. “I need you to go shower. I’ll makeyou something to eat, then we can talk, alright?”

I know he’s not going to leave until I tell him what’s going on, so I give in, getting up and going to the bathroom.

I’m freshly showered but the house is cold. I notice my screen door open. It’s a cold day and I’ll be pissed if I have to turn the heat on. “I had to get some air in here. I put your wax melt on too. Cleaned up a bit. Made food. If the state of your house isn’t a cry for help I don’t know what is.” I sit at the table as he slides me a plate of food. “What’s going on?”

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