Page 41 of The Burnt Heart

“What is it?” I groaned. Jonah was hovering in the doorway, his hand at his waist.

“You were screaming in your sleep.” Lara smiled tentatively. “I couldn’t wake you.”

I threw my legs over the side and stood in one fluid movement. My fingers were shaking, and I knew what was coming. I needed to be alone. Jonah stepped to the side in an annoyed puff.

“Boss,” he growled.

“It’s nothing, just a bad dream,” I grumbled, slipping into the guest bathroom and locking the door. I turned on the tap, dangling my fingers in the cold water. Bloodshot eyes reflected in the mirror, and I ducked my head. Even if I closed my eyes, I couldn’t escape the barrage of thoughts that flooded me.

It was always blood. The thoughts that hijacked my mind weren’t real, but they felt like they were.

A silver blade glossy with red smears.

The sound like a punch as it sunk into my mom. Her body jerking on a silent cry.

An unsettled exhale clawed out of my throat. I lifted my shirt, where the raised scars tangled over my abdomen. They shimmered almost silver in the light, pale lilac, faded over time, but the pain was still fresh in my mind.

The thoughts pressed in. I made myself stare at my reflection, fingers inert in the frigid water. The ice of it shocked me, allowed the lines of pain to be gathered and stuffed away.

Logan’s eyes glassy as he lay in the sand.

Jerking backwards with the pop of a gun echoing in my ear.

I flexed my fingers, the slow stiff movements calming me. I hadn’t had intrusive thoughts like this for so long. But they were always worse when I was under stress. I whistled out a slow breath, restraining the exhale.

I needed control. Jonah thumped on the door again, a wordless check in. My cheeks flushed, and I pressed my icy fingers against them. My guard knew more than he should about how these thoughts affected me. I opened the door with a glare.

“Can’t I get a second alone?” I muttered, striding past his pursed lips.

“Do I need to make calls?” he persisted from behind me. Lara pushed over a glass of orange juice warily. I took a sip, shoulders drooping slightly when the perfect burst of Orchard Hearth hit my tastebuds. My nostrils flared at Jonah’s insinuation, and at the accuracy of his pointed words. Previously, whenever I’d had an intense bout of intrusive thoughts, I would reach out to one of my guys. The last time my thoughts held me in their tight grip like this was when I was convinced my father was going to be swept up in crime reform by Chief Goldman.

I couldn’t call them. Even though every part of me wanted to.

Not one of them told me to get over it, to just try harder. They understood how hard it was for me. They all suffered in their own way, Jesse his need to protect at the expense of his safety, Logan being touched, and Briar trusting himself. But I didn’t need them. I’d managed before I met them, and I would manage now.

“Like I said, it was a nightmare.”

The oily lie was slick on my tongue, but I didn’t need anyone worrying about me right now. I couldn’t have them thinking I was weak.

My phone vibrated against my palm for the hundredth time this morning. My father wasn’t happy with how we’d left our conversation last night and had been trying to reach me for hours. I shut it down with a sigh. I rubbed my eyes blearily,glaring at the hints of sun peeking over the horizon. Tormented by intrusive thoughts, I’d given in to the urge to read Briar’s journal. Everything in my body felt heavy, like cement choked my veins.

He’d pressed so hard with his pen that bumps raised on the pages. I’d ran my fingers over them like braille, trying to absorb his confessions. He’d peeled himself open for my judgement. The words were rawer and deeper than I could have expected. I was too sleep deprived to process anything. Especially with the chaos I’d just walked into.

The Calder Place site was teeming with people, the steady rumble of trucks as they readied themselves to start clearing the lot. I adjusted the hard hat on my head.

“Tell me again.” I slanted a glare at the site supervisor, and his chest rose deeply as his eyes darted to the side.

“W-w-we didn’t realize anything was amiss until you came, Miss Orazio. Security said they’d alerted you last night and didn’t hear anything. They had the proper paperwork, so I figured it had been arranged in advance. It was getting demolished today. Honestly, it saved us a ton of time. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?” My voice cracked like a whip and the site supervisor flinched. He scratched at his thick beard. “Someone accessed this site and took something that belongs to me. Not just anything, but a whole. Damn. Tree. Nobody heard or saw a thing? Get me footage and talk to Jonah about hiring more security. This project is not to be tampered with. Do you understand?”

I didn’t look my most imposing self with a hard hat on, but the man’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, sufficiently cowed. My mask dropped as he scurried away, jerking his phone to his ear. I’d earned a sleep in after the night I’d had, but I couldn’t miss this. Picturing the tree that held mine and the boys’ carvedinitials falling to the ground had been heart wrenching, but it was necessary.

Everyone was here to work. They didn’t know they were getting ready to raze my history to nothing. How could these strangers understand that the ground they were steadily churning into mud had grown a love that I thought was forever? I crouched next to the severed tree trunk and swallowed the lump that was choking my throat.

The empty space of our tree split the fabric of my universe. For so long its branches had painted the sky and the gap it left was a hollowness inside of me as well. It seemed a silly thing, when the tree was going to be knocked down anyway, but I wanted to be here to watch it fall. Call it closure, or something deeper and weaker, but I had planned to be here, regardless. I wanted to say goodbye in silence to the tree that was the heart of so many beautiful memories. My fingers itched to run over the initials we’d carved one last time. I hoped it might close the door that last night had jammed open again. One less link to my ill-fated love. But when I’d arrived, the tree was already gone. Someone had gone to the trouble of removing the tree in the middle of the night. The evidence of our history? Stolen. Who would have bothered? Jesse was in the hospital, Briar drugged and Logan busy being their caretaker. There was no way they could have organized this.

Could they?

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