Page 35 of The Burnt Heart

Briar with a foaming pink mouth.

Briar alone and writhing in pain.

Briar calling out my name as he spat up blood.

I flexed my shaky hands to try and circuit break the hounding images. A breath shuddered out of me.

“Was this your stupid idea? How was that ever going to work?” I jabbed at Ray out of frustration.

“It’s still being tweaked. Look,” Ray sighed, his hand twisting the doorknob. “It’s better for everyone if you stay close. He’ll have a loose tongue for a while, another side effect. Might be an opportune time to ask questions.”

I gazed at Briar, drowning in the desire and adoration that beamed out of his sapped face, and gave in.

19

Adelaide

Itucked my feet under my ass and scrolled on my phone. Anything to stop looking at Briar. His warmth filtered through me on the couch. My lungs hurt from the pleasure I derived from it. I didn’t want this weakness. I shouldn’t get enjoyment from his closeness. My fingers tightened around my phone, and I bit down on my bottom lip. The sharp spike of physical pain was enough to distract me from the overwhelming emotional hurt. As soon as this experimental drug wore off, I would leave. I examined him from the side of my eye. Briar’s head tipped to the ceiling and his forehead creased slightly like his thoughts were fitful. Anchored by our entwined fingers. His curls had the faintest scent of his shampoo. How many times had we held hands like this? So natural, like puzzle pieces cut for each other. But I couldn’t think about it. Too much had changed.He’d quietened down since we started touching. Unbelievably, Ray’s advice had worked. Being in my old apartment was rough against my nerve endings. It felt like a lifetime ago that I’d sat on this very couch and had my heart ripped out. The agony was muted, time washing over and numbing the sting. But I didn’t forget, and I certainly didn’t forgive.

Yet. Here I was.

The glare of the screen taunted me. My stomach swooped like I was looking at something illicit. Instead, it was scores and scores of messages from Logan. Gnawing curiosity had consumed me after the comment Jesse had thrown out. About him sending me messages. I’d unblocked his number, determined to scoff and harden my heart even further. Instead, it had the opposite effect. It was like a travel journal. He’d sent photos of a myriad of places, punctuated with brief descriptions. I stared at a beautiful photo of winding grapevines, with the sun setting behind them. The light streamed golden through the thick greenery, making it seem enchanted.

You would love the Sauvignon Blanc at this winery siren. I’ve bought a bottle to share, and I’ll send it when I get back. The hotel I stayed at has high tea with macaroons, and you can get extra pillows. I checked x.

Clearly, the shooting had skewed my emotions somehow. Otherwise, I would never have allowed my heart to flip. I scowled in the low light of the phone. He’d been sending these messages for months, always describing what I’d like about each place. It was deceptively simple, but every few sentences he wrote showed me he had been thinking of me, and of how well he knew me. Frustration bubbled in my throat, and I swallowed audibly past a knot. The past two months had bled away, like water down a drain. I didn’t give myself a chance to contemplate the organ thumping in my chest. It had been bad enough withJesse. The persistent flowers and absurd date ideas he sent every time I met with Ray rankled. Each new flower bunch went straight in the bin, and I wouldn’t acknowledge the stack of cards I’d tucked in my bottom drawer. I tossed my phone to the side with a huff. Was this the start of a new torture? Jesse had mentioned that two months were up, and he was coming for me.

When I’d tossed out the date, it had been out of desperation. My thick walls had been crumbling, and I needed space before I fell apart. I knew they wouldn’t leave until I gave them something.

But I hadn’t expected them to wait. I thought they would get used to life without me and realize they were better off. I knew I was.Liar. I shook my head and clenched my jaw. It didn’t matter.

They could fight all they liked. I wasn’t about to let them in again. When it mattered, they had chosen money. Clenching my jaw, I glared at Logan as he sprawled over the couch opposite us. I should just leave, get out of here, but I couldn’t make myself. I was wary of what reaction Briar might have, but a small part of me was soaking up the feeling of closeness. This was my secret weakness. I was still trying to kill the love I had in my heart for these men, and it was harder than I expected. I tried to smother it with anger, that I had in spades. But it made me sick too. It was exhausting clinging to the rage, especially late at night when I just ached to be held.

What I still couldn’t understand, was why?

It made little sense and the number of times I’d turned the question over in my mind was dizzying. I just wished I could cut the love I still held out of my chest so I could move on and forget them. Briar squeezed my hand. His eyes still closed, he murmured.

“Don’t you want to ask me anything?”

Logan slid me a loaded look as I clicked my tongue. Did I? What if the answers made the mess in my chest even worse? My hand was clammy in Briar’s snug hold, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What could you say that would fix this?” I whispered. Omitting some of the truth. These men held my heart in a prison, and I didn’t want to give them any opportunity to reach in and cause more damage.

“You can ask me anything, siren. I’m not drugged, but I’ll answer.”

Logan chimed in, and I sighed.

“You know, the last time I sat on this couch, I thought you were going to ask me to marry you. I can’t understand why you would make such a reckless choice. All those years destroyed, for what? That’s the part I can’t understand. Why?” My voice cracked.

Briar made a noise of regret and turned his body into mine, earnest devastation in every line. My lower lip trembled, and I caught it with my teeth. Was it possible for a person’s chest to crack open? The pressure made it difficult to breathe.

“Orazio orphans. Leeches. Punchbag parasites,” Logan reeled off a list of words. “Just some of the g-rated names we’ve been called. Some whispered. Some said right to our faces. Your father encouraged it. You know he famously disapproves of us. From the second you claimed us, he’s been trying to break us apart. We were the dark stain that marked Orazios golden girl. What we did was the worst decision we’ve ever made. One I will regret all my days. But it was born of desperation. We took everything, the insults and beatings. But hurting you wasn’t a decision we made lightly. It felt like the only option.”

My stomach twisted at his admission. What were they talking about? My father had always been hard on them, but he wouldn’t do this. He didn’t approve, but I’d always assumed itwas the thought of his little girl with three guys that made him squeamish. Not that they didn’t have a name, legacy, or wealth. Logan noticed my look of disbelief and shook his head, jaw clenched.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I accused.

“Family is everything to you. Your father is your hero. Honestly, Adelaide, we weren’t sure you would believe us. If we told you and you had to choose between your family, your legacy or us? Would we really be your choice? All three of us still feel like we aren’t good enough for you. We were afraid you might decide this was too hard. You wanted something conventional. So, we kept quiet, but it never stopped. It just got worse. Your father said the only way he would ever accept us was if we proved we were worth your love. That we didn’t just take from you like parasites. His girl deserved a partner who could build their own empire, rather than bleed you of yours.”

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