Break My Heart (The Heart Series Book 2) (39 page)

“Lil!”

She’s struggling to get up. I found her. I can’t believe I found her.

The closer I get to her, the faster dread fills me. Bile, anger, and confusion all combine and rip up my insides.

Because that’s not my Lil.

I don’t know who this woman is, but whoever she is, she looks exactly like Lil.

I’d know my Lily anywhere. And she’s not her.

Fuck me.

Her gaze shoots up and finds me, and she looks at me like she’s seeing a ghost. Her cheeks are red and flushed, wet from tears or rain. Her eyes, Christ, they’re just like Lil’s.

She’s about Lil’s age, maybe older. Her short brown hair is plastered to her face and her head, curls matted, and clothing out of place. She looks like she’s been through hell and back.

“Who are you?” she croaks.

Oh, hell. Even her voice sounds like Lil.

My mouth opens but no sounds come out. Finally, I force my vocal cords to work, strained from all the screaming.

“You…you’re not my Lily,” I mumble, but press on, “I’m sorry—fuck, you look like her.”

“Ileana.” Her eyes grow wide, astonishment clear on her face.

My heart drops. “You know Ileana? Are you related? Where is she?” I’m firing questions faster than she can answer. I keep looking around, waiting for Lil to pop up out of the grass.

She shakes her head nervously. “She was with me.” She scans around us. “We must have gotten separated,” she finally mutters.

“What do you mean, you got separated?” Shit. “Is this about Will?”

Her whiskey eyes snap to mine. Her entire face changes and her knees threaten to give out. She’s going down having nothing to hold onto, and here I am standing in the middle of nowhere having the fucking weirdest conversation with a stranger I’ve ever had.

Quickly reaching for her, I keep her from hitting the ground. She starts sobbing and shaking her head no.

What the fuck is happening?

“This
is
about him, isn’t it? I’m going to kill that son of a bitch—”

“No! Please, don’t hurt him. It’s not what you think. Please.” She’s begging me not to hurt that asshole. Why?

“Lil!!” I scream so loud she covers her ears. “Lil!” I roar with all my might, using every single cell in my body and the last drop of breath inside of me.

“Something is very wrong. Oh God,” she mutters. “You need to listen to me, we don’t have much time,” she says, but I ignore her.

I don’t have time for this shit! I need to find Lil.

I point toward the road. “I can’t leave without her, so just start walking that way.” Christ, her expression mirrors mine. Pure helplessness.

“Oh no, no.” Utter, undiluted panic is etched all over her face. “You need to listen to me.” Her eyes pin me like she’s about to reveal the secrets of the universe.

“
You will never forget.

You will never regret.

You will love her for life,

You will keep her inside
.”

“What?”

She’s reciting some kind of poem, but I don’t give a fuck. “Just help me find her!” I scream, but she just keeps chanting.

I turn away from her, but she grabs my arm with such force it catches me off guard. She thrusts her other hand out, covering my chest. My eyes lock on hers, as if she’s holding me hostage. I’m hypnotized, and I can’t look away. My legs won’t move. My chest burns as if she’s reaching inside and branding my heart.

“
Never stop, never wane.

She will love you and she will wait
.”

Her words, low and purposeful, bounce back and forth inside my brain.

You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
Lil remembered but didn’t tell me.

Jesus H. Christ.

I snap out of her spell and grab her by the shoulders, squeezing with all I have, startling her and breaking the connection of her palm against my chest.

“Are you her?”
Why did I even ask that?

She’s startled but doesn’t answer.

“Are you
her
?” I demand.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m not,” she answers in such a sad, mournful way, my stomach turns, and I feel sick. All the air inside my lungs expels in one fell swoop. Just when I think it can’t get any worse, it does.

My brain is shutting down, my vision becomes blurry, and she’s gradually fading from my vision and hearing.

That’s impossible, isn’t it? I open my mouth to speak, and stumble away from her, but not without getting one last look at her face.

Her expression is pure agony, like she’s watching me being burned alive, unable to do anything about it. Her eyes are wide and horrified, her hands covering her mouth.

Then screams explode in the field around us.

“No, no, no. Please no!” she wails in torment.

My insides go numb. So do my hands, my body, my mind.

My hands fade, brushing over the tall grass, and going right through it.

What the fuck is happening
? I can’t move my mouth.

I have no voice.

No vision.

No being.

No more.

CHAPTER 40

Ileana

Getting on my feet, I do a quick systems check. I’m in one piece.

But something isn’t right.

The entire field looks fake: no flow, no wind, no movement. Everyone is gone.

Carol, Mary, Danny, and the sheriff.

The whole field, as far as the eye can see, seems frozen in time, as if someone hit the pause button.

“Are we back?” I ask, but there’s no answer.

My grandmother is gone as well. I’m all alone.

The realization sends my heart pounding, panic threatening to take charge.

But everything didn’t go according to plan, did it?
I need to keep a level head.

Pressing my eyes shut, I push my anxiety down, try to take charge, try to keep my hands from shaking. I need to keep my wits about me.

The storm is gone. In its place, white fluffy clouds sit frozen in the sky like they’re painted into the landscape. I’m stuck in a vacuum. I’m in some kind of limbo.

“Shit.”

“Hello, Ileana.”

I whip around, drawing my Ruger on instinct.

My muzzle points to a tall frame. Sharp jaw and cheekbones, obsidian eyes looking inside my deepest corners.

The man is casually dressed, like he’s just going to the mall. But instead, he’s in the middle of nowhere with me.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” He didn’t just materialize out of thin air, did he?

“My name is Ahmad. Where I come from is inconsequential.”

Yeah right. Not to me.

“What the hell is going on,” I demand, pinning him in challenge.

My chest is heaving, terror oozing from my every pore. This is wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be here, I was supposed to go home...right?

Ahmed’s expression is one of sympathy. “Please, put down that weapon.” He seems resigned, like he’s doing his job. “I’m sorry it has come to this, Ileana, but there is no other alternative.” His chocolate eyes match his tanned skin perfectly.

How does he know my name?
“What does that even mean? What are you talking about?” My palms are sweaty, my heart pounding against my chest. I swallow thickly, hiding my panic deep inside, because I’m two minutes from losing my shit.

“You shouldn’t have gone back for her.” His exquisite face frowns with impatience, and I falter.

“My grandmother?”

He nods.

“But I did.” My hands tremble.

“And there lies the problem, so to speak.” He’s calm, keeping eye contact.

So, maybe this is about me. Maybe I’m being punished, my ticket cashed in, my ride over.

“Am I dead? Is this purgatory or something?”

“No, it isn’t,” he muses with a tinge of melancholy. “We just needed to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Consequences.”

“My grandmother was about to die. No harm, no foul. As I see it, everything from this point on is moot. She won’t go back to her life.” She won’t change my fate.

“This is not about her.” He pauses impatiently. “This is about Sheriff Colton, and his son Robert.”

The revelation claws into my chest and rips out my soul, bringing me to my knees.

Tommy.

Oh God…
what have I done?

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I hope you have enjoyed the ride so far. You may have guessed that their journey is not over. I trudge along, trying to articulate and share their story with everyone, and unlike Lil with her stubborn streak, I recognize there are things I cannot accomplish alone.

It should be known: I have the most supporting husband in the world. Without him minding the Fort, I wouldn’t be able to disappear for endless hours into the writing cave only to emerge to a cold dinner waiting for me. I love you, Bebo. You are my soft place to fall.

To my betas - Candice, Debbie, Lynette, and my hubby: thank you for your amazing input. The story wouldn’t be the same without it. To my oldest, my Afghan Vet and future Law Enforcement badass: Thank you for answering every random police procedural and military question I ask. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become! Allan and Gabe, thanks for answering my random medical questions without wondering why.

To my editor, my writing conscience, word Yoda/Ninja extraordinaire, Lea Burn at Burn Before Reading: Thank you for the invaluable feedback; your amazing dedication to the story and characters knows no bounds. You were right beside me coaching as I pushed, cursed, and gave life to this baby. This one, my dear, is for you. To my kick-ass proofreader and awesome beta, Kelli Spear: Thank you for loving literature as much as I do.

To Paula, Veronica, and Courtney, my allies in this crazy business, and to the Treehouse Triplets: Thank you for listening to my rants, frustrations, and talking me off the ledge. Your support means the world to me. Thank you Regina Wamba of Mae I Design for knocking it out of the park yet again. You’re a true artist. Word Bubble eBook and Print Formatting: Thanks so much for always putting those awesome final touches on my paperbacks that make it unique.

And to all the readers out there that are giving my writing a chance: Thank you for walking into the darkness not knowing what to expect. Reading is a big adventure. I’m humbled you’ve chosen to travel on my path. Last but not least, I want to thank the ladies in the Hold My Heart discussion group; your support and patience means the world to me, and I thank you for letting Ileana, Tommy, and Will into your lives. I wouldn’t be trekking this journey if it weren’t for you. You have waited patiently for this next chapter of their story; hopefully the wait was worthwhile.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Esther grew up in the beautiful Caribbean island of Puerto Rico before meeting and marrying her soul mate. A former military wife, she’s the mother of three boys, explorer, avid reader, communications professor, and knowledge hound. An Army Mom at heart, Esther resides in Minnesota where she spends her days teaching human communication, public speaking and writing about love, romance, and life.

To visit, or contact Esther:

http://emsotoauthor.blogspot.com/

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Coming soon

Book 3, The Heart Series

Also available by Esther M. Soto

Hold my Heart

Meant to Be

Copyright © 2016 Esther M. Soto

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the author’s permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

Published by

Sunny Girl Publishing, LLC

Oviedo, FL

Characters and events in this book are a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, are coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover by: Regina Wamba, Mae I Design and Photography

ISBN:
1537319736

ISBN-13:
978-1537319735