Page 98 of Pieces We Keep

Stroking his jaw, I nod at his words. We all play tricks on ourselves to keep the darkness from swallowing us whole. Better for it to nibble at the edges while we push our way through life.

“After I came home from the hospital, I resented my family,” I explain after our lips part. “They would tell stories about Owen that weren’t true. They’d fudge details to make him smarter or funnier. I felt they were erasing who he really was, as if the real Owen weren’t good enough.”

Resting my head against Eagle’s shoulder, I try to catch my breath. The anger and grief battle inside me.

“I put all my sadness deep inside where I wouldn’t feel it. I focused on the future, getting healthy and moving away. I thought I could leave behind my pain. In some ways, I did. I spent twelve years focused on Fiona. She was my everything. As long as I kept my mind on her, I never needed to look over my shoulder at the past.”

Falling silent when the waitress stops by, I wait until she’s created distance before I continue. “I was a weak child, very quick to please. I learned early on how my parents’ love came with strings attached. If I pushed back against them, they’d turn cold and reject me. So even as I got older and thought I was an independent badass, I still ended up backing down once they got upset. The only reason I broke free was because my rage burned right through their disapproval. I no longer cared if they loved me.”

“Has your family ever reached out to you?”

“Yes, but not as much as you’d think. They blame me for being bitter. Like I should shrug off my issues. I wish I could scream my hate at them, but I’ve never been brave. I just left and didn’t look back.”

I’m still not brave.Despite Eagle sharing earlier and begging me to give him everything, I’m still afraid to admit I’m pregnant. I sense he might already know. Yet, the words get stuck in the back of my throat.

Rather than speak up, I look through my photos until I find a picture of the Victorian house in Vermont. “This is Fiona’s old home. It was like a prison to her. I chose to join her in that hell when I knew anger alone wouldn’t keep my bad memories away.”

“It looks expensive yet creepy.”

“I wasn’t happy there,” I admit, exhaling softly and thinking back to that place. “I loved Fiona. When we were upstairs, I could often pretend we were somewhere else. Most days, though, the home was filled with misery. Every time I took Gatsby out for a walk or went to the kitchen to get food, I’d look up at the three-story foyer and imagine Fiona’s little body falling. That house held a lot of bad memories.”

“But you didn’t want to leave.”

“No. The last week of Zaja’s life was like a snapshot of everything I hated about that place. She was in pain from a bowel obstruction but refused to go to the hospital. She had people who were always around, mooching off her. She loved how they kissed her ass. They were nasty people just like her, but she held all the power.”

Shuddering, I rest my cheek on Eagle’s chest. “That week, when she wailed in pain, they didn’t help her. I knew she would die if she didn’t get help. The crazy bitch was convinced someone poisoned her as a ploy to get her out of the house. When I asked if she wanted me to call a doctor, she claimed I was in on the plan. I knew she wouldn’t go willingly.”

I lift my head and study Eagle. His scarred body tells the story of violent battles. The Steel Berserkers Motorcycle Club didn’t take this piece of the world using their charm. They bled and killed to win. Eagle understands about making ugly decisions. I can tell him what I’d never admit to anyone else.

“I nearly called an ambulance. It was three days after she started wailing. I knew she would die soon. I stood on the third floor, listening to her animal-like cries echoing in the large house. I held the phone in my hand and started to dial. I couldn’t let her die. She might be evil, but I wasn’t.”

Swallowing hard, I nearly move away from Eagle. My confession feels all wrong. Why would I tell him something so ugly about myself before admitting I’m carrying his baby?Am I hoping to sabotage our happiness?

I look into his rich brown eyes and find him watching me in a relaxed way. Eagle must understand how I didn’t save Zaja. My story has an obvious ending, but he doesn’t look concerned.

“I thought about the first day I arrived at the house. Zaja told me how her daughter was a little devil who’d bite me. She and her stupid friends laughed. I walked up the long circular stairs to the third floor, where my charge was hidden somewhere. I remember how wildly my heart beat. I was terrified of the monster awaiting me. The job was loathed by so many caretakers. They swore they’d never go back to the house.”

Fisting my hands, I force myself to relive that day. “I opened the bedroom door where a plate of uneaten food rested. Inside was obnoxiously bright with every light on and a TV blaring. I scanned the room but didn’t see Fiona. I felt like I was stepping into a horror movie, where the idiot character knows to run but doesn’t.”

Exhaling roughly, I continue, “I thought of Owen. Something made his little face pop into my mind. I remember how scared he got over a ladybug landing on his hand. His fear mixed with mine that day. I felt like I might suffocate, so I pushed myself into the room. I needed a distraction. Even a little devil biting me would be better than thinking of my dead son.”

The restaurant seems too loud, much like that room did. “I found Fiona in the dark closet, curled up and crying. She smelled unwashed. I forced myself to say her name. She turned in my direction, falling silent like a startled animal.”

Wrapping myself against Eagle, I want to weep at how cruel people can be to each other.

“Even as I explained to Fiona why I was there, I was already planning to call in sick the next day. I didn’t want to be in that house anymore. Then, Fiona whimpered how she was scared. Her mother had moved the furniture in the room and left the lights on. Fiona was afraid to leave the dark closet. She couldn’t see right. Her head hurt. She couldn’t find her food or the way to the bathroom. She was lost in the dark.”

Wiping the tears from my cheek, I lift my chin and explain, “Fiona had worked hard at a clinic to learn to live with her brain damage and broken body. She came home to a woman who immediately sabotaged her. That’s why I didn’t help Zaja. Instead, I took one of Fiona’s noise-muffling headphones and wore it like she did. We watched movies and listened to music, ignoring Zaja’s wails. Eventually, the monster died. Her friends stole what they could and disappeared into the night. I called an ambulance. The locals knew about Zaja. No one made a stink about how she died.”

Exhaustion washes over me, and I grip Eagle to keep from falling over. “I planned to stay in that awful house with the drafty third floor. I figured we’d clean out the main floor and move downstairs. Fiona could have more freedom. It would be fine. Except she’d always be walking past the spot where her body crashed into the ground. We had no need for such a big house, but I was scared to leave.”

I stare into his eyes and say the words, “I’m a coward. I fear change. I hide from my problems. I don’t know the answers to most questions. I’m messed up and weak. I’m sorry I’m not a better person, but I love you, and I want you to love me. I’m also pregnant.”

Eagle skims his fingers across my cheek and then plays with my hair.

“Ruin’s daughter, Joie, is from his marriage to a party girl named Nicole,” Eagle says, and I frown at how he seems to have missed my announcement. “She was a hot chick with a mean streak. Ruin liked but never loved her. Yet, when she got pregnant, he built her a big, fancy house in the woods.”

Staring at Eagle, I don’t say anything. His fingers slide across my furrowed brow.

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