Fitting The Pieces (The Riverdale Series Book 3) (2 page)

           
She closed her hand around his
wrist.
 
Luke noticed her eyes were green
when they looked into his. “Every time I turn around, you’re there.” She said
without any emotion in her voice. It was just a statement. “And you’re looking
at me. I pretend not to notice half the time because I see the look in your
eye. I know what you want.” Her voice began to catch and she tightened her hold
on his wrist. She brought her free hand up and wrapped it around his neck. “Yet
here I am offering you what you want and you haven’t grabbed me and taken it
yet.” She tilted her head to the side and glared into his eyes. “I knew you
wouldn’t follow through with it.” Her fingers worked the back of his neck. “Mr.
Responsible always lets his conscience win in the end.” She all but whispered,
each word taunting him.

           
Something inside Luke snapped and he
snatched his hand back and without so much as a second thought he grabbed her
hips. He watched those bewitching eyes of hers go wide as he lifted her and
spun her around dropping her roughly onto the desk. He spread her legs with his
as he stepped between them. She opened her mouth to speak again. He didn’t want
to hear another word come out of her pretty little mouth and without restraint
his mouth crashed over hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled
him closer. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips and she parted them,
accepting him, inviting him to take what he wanted. He slid his tongue inside
her mouth and stroked hers. He thought he had died, but then he realized he
couldn’t have died because he was going to hell.
 
Because he felt like what he was experiencing
right there with Cara was a little sliver of heaven. She tasted of whiskey and
the slightest hint of peppermint. His hunger for her couldn’t be tamed and so
he took. He took everything she offered in hopes to suppress his hunger.

           
Her skirt hitched around her thighs
and when he slid his hand under the hem he felt the soft flesh there prickle as
goose bumps arose.
 
He hiked the skirt
higher until it pooled around her waist. He felt her hand glide over his
erection to the waistband of his jeans. With both hands, she worked the button
of his jeans before she brought down the zipper. He slid a hand into the back
pocket of his jeans and pulled out a condom. He tossed it beside her on the
desk, then placed one hand on each of her kneecaps.
 
He widened her legs before his hands traveled
back up her thighs. He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down her neck.

           
A moan escaped from somewhere deep
inside of her as she slipped her hands feverishly into the waistband of his
boxers. She closed her hand over his dick just as he slid his fingers under the
lace thong she wore. He bit back a moan as he dipped his fingers into her slick
folds. Before he could think of, all the reasons he shouldn’t, he ripped her
panties down her legs, shredding them in the process. She didn’t make a sound
as he slipped them off her leg in a rush. She glanced up at him and that’s when
he noticed the condom in between her fingers. He pushed his pants down in a
hurry, along with his boxers. He took the wrapper from her trembling hand and
pulled the condom out. He rolled it over the head before she took over and
finished slipping it over the length of him.

           
Cara braced her hands on the side of
the desk, her eyes closed as he drove himself into her. It didn’t matter how
wet she was, she was tight and with each inch he slid inside her he felt her
muscles clench all around his dick. He looked at her as he slid himself out.
Her eyes were still closed, so he pressed his finger under her chin and leaned
over, his lips a breath from her ear.

           
“Open your eyes and look at me.” He
whispered gruffly. Her eyes fluttered open under his command as he drove
himself back into her, her body arching in response. He wanted her to see it
was him who was making his way inside her. He wanted her to know it was him she
was wrapping her legs around bringing him deeper inside of her. And if only it
was this one time he’d get to be with her, he wanted her never to forget it. He
wanted her to suffer right along with him, because he was sure from this point
forward he’d never be the same.

           
His hips crashed against her, flesh
smacking against flesh, and he could feel her tighten around him. Her nails
clawed at his shoulders as the friction their bodies created rubbed along her
clit and brought her to the edge. He kept his eyes on her as her body awakened
in a violent outburst. She writhed and shook her head as if she was fighting
herself not let herself feel what was happening. Her body won the battle and
she cried out as her back arched and her walls clenched around him.

           
Cara was a sight on a regular basis,
but watching her as she came was something raw and beautiful. An image he’d
never forget, one that set his own orgasm off. He thrust into her again before
he exploded buried to the hilt inside of her.

           
Luke braced his hands on either side
of the desk as he tried to control his ragged breathing. He didn’t know what to
do. Did he kiss her? Did he take her in his arms like he wanted to and promise
they’d figure this out? He pulled back slightly and searched her eyes, in hopes
to find the slightest hint of what she’d wanted from him.

           
Her eyes never looked up at him
though. He didn’t press either instead he pulled himself out of her and
carefully discarded the condom. He heard her hop off of the desk and when he
turned around, she was tugging on the hem of her skirt. He slipped himself
inside his boxers and buttoned up his jeans. Say something, he told himself.

           
Cara dressed as quickly as she
possibly could without turning around and facing him. He ran his fingers
through his hair roughly. “Cara.”

           
She turned around abruptly finishing
with the buttons of her shirt. “Don’t.” She said her voice was hoarse and full
of remorse.
   
Her eyes brimmed with
unshed tears and a haunted detached look that disturbed him.

           
Luke stared at her for a moment,
watching as she struggled to hold back her tears. He hated himself in that
instant when her eyes met his again. She closed her eyes for a moment as if to
put on a mask of sorts and when she opened them again they were cold and her
stare was hard.
 
More than a little
confused by the mixed emotions playing in her expression, he took a step back
giving her space.

           
“Now you could say you had your
brother’s girl.” She clenched her fists at her sides, without another word she
turned around and walked out of the office, her words ringing in Luke’s ears as
he stood there in the wake of destruction.

Dear
Jake,

I
don’t even know why I’m writing to you, it’s not like you’ll ever read these
letters. It’s not like one day you will find a box of shit I left for you. No,
only I get the privilege of sifting through all this crap. I suppose I should
thank you for leaving behind all these letters, it’s not like they pour salt in
my wounds or anything. Not at all. I especially enjoy the little notes with
instructions, yeah, those really warm my heart. It’s great to know you thought
of all your loved ones when you were dying. It’s great to know that you knew all
along you’d leave me. I guess one of us should’ve been prepared.

I
used to have a best friend. I remember him walking into the bar whenever I
worked, instantly searching the room for my eyes. I remember seeing him and thinking,
there he is, my person. I remember that one night he waited for me outside of
my job. I remember jumping onto the back of his bike and him taking me on the
ride of my life. The ride I’d never forget. I’ll never forget what it felt like
to wrap my arms around your waist and have the wind blow over me as we drove to
our spot. I’ll never forget that night. It was a beautiful night between me and
my best friend.

My
best friend is now called painkillers. These little pills that help me forget
the best friend I once had, my best friend who I centered my whole world
around. I sometimes think the universe played a cruel joke on me. If I never
discovered that somewhere in the fifteen years of our friendship I fell in love
with my best friend, if I never admitted that truth, then maybe I’d still have
my best friend. If we would’ve never tried to tempt our luck and explore the
love, then maybe, just maybe, you would’ve never gotten sick. Maybe your
illness was a product of our love. I wasn’t put on this Earth to be loved and
having your love was too much, so it had to be ripped from me, in the cruelest
possible way.

So
now I’m stuck here until I gather the nerve to end this vicious cycle someone
has planned for me. I don’t have a fiancée anymore. Instead of getting married
today, I’m writing you a goddamn letter. I’m not even that upset that I’m not
primping for a wedding. Maybe that’s because my new best friend is swimming
through my blood stream.

I
am angry. I am hurt. I am dead, but no one has put me in the ground yet. I miss
my best friend. The one I took that ride with. The one I lost.

I
hate you.

I
love you.

I
miss you.

I’m
sorry. So sorry I tempted fate.

Love
you always and forever,

Cara

           
Luke Lanza glanced in his rear view mirror as he pulled
up in front of Riverdale Elementary and watched his daughter as she looked out
of her window.

           
“Here we are, my lady.” He said as he put the truck in
park and twisted in his seat to face her. Ava unsnapped her seatbelt and
grabbed her book bag from the seat beside her. She slung it over one shoulder
and leaned over the console. She smiled at him with her lopsided toothless grin
and eyed him as if she owned him, which he could admit, she did.

           
“Give me some sugar.” She said pointing her finger
towards her cheek.

           
Luke laughed, his daughter never ceased to amaze him with
her wit. He leaned over to shower her cheek with kisses before pointing to his
own. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and kissed his cheek with a
smacking sound.

           
“That’s my girl!” He said before moving his hand to
ruffle her hair.

           
“Dad! Don’t you’ll mess my hair!” She cried exasperated.

           
Luke held his hands up in the air as if he had just been
caught red-handed. “Okay, fine!” He said, surrendering to his seven year old.
“Don’t forget, you’re going home with Aunt Sam today, and then I will pick you
up after work.”

           
“Okay, oh and it’s Friday! Pizza night!” She exclaimed
reminding him of their weekly ritual.

           
“It’s a date.” He confirmed with a smile as he watched
her open the door. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to get out of the car and
help her out, but stopped himself because she claimed it would be too
embarrassing. She jumped out of the car and when she landed firmly on her two
feet, Luke sighed relieved. “I love you.” He called out before she could shut
the door.

           
“I love you too.” She whispered before slamming the door
shut.

           
He ignored the car behind him that honked for him to pull
away and looked after Ava until she made her way safely into the school. The
horn honked again and with a smile he pulled away from the school.

           
Friday’s were usually a day full of routines for Luke,
who was he kidding, his whole life was one big routine. There wasn’t a day of
the week he didn’t have mapped out. However, Friday’s was the day he went to
his late brother’s tattoo shop. He had been delegated the responsibility so,
once a week he made his way over to the shop and checked on everything. He was
certain the shop would be up to par, it always was. When Jake had died, his
good friend and right hand at Riverdale Ink, Pete DeSantis had agreed to run
the tattoo parlor for the Lanza’s. Everyone in the family agreed that Pete was
best suited for the job. He worked beside Jake for years watching him grow his
business. It was the right decision because Pete was undyingly loyal to
Riverdale Ink and even with its owners passing the business was still striving.

           
Luke pulled up into the spot in front of Riverdale Ink.
It was still early and the shop didn’t open until noon, but Pete would be there
for Luke’s and his weekly meeting. He stepped inside the place and like every
time before something inside of him ached. The bell chimed letting his presence
be known as he glanced around, noticing everything was just as Jake had wanted.
 
Not a thing was altered, except he wasn’t in
the first booth wiggling his eyebrows at the first person who walked through
the door. He made his way towards Jake’s station, it was clear to see no one
had used any of his equipment. On the counter sat some of the sketches that Jake
had been working on, and on top of the pile sat the drawing Jake had tattooed
to his chest. There was no mistaking the beautiful women staring back at him in
the form of black and white. She was the woman who haunted his dreams. Luke
lifted the piece of paper, realizing he was probably the first person to ever
touch anything in his brother’s area since his passing. How fitting, he
thought, as he stared down at the drawing of Cara.

           
“He was one talented son of a bitch.” Luke heard Pete say
from behind and quickly placed the sketch back in its rightful spot. “I still
can remember how he pleaded with me to make sure when I inked him I captured
her just as he drew her.”

           
Luke turned around to face Pete, who stood just outside
of the cubicle. “My brother was a perfectionist when it came to his work.”

           
Pete nodded in agreement as Luke stepped out of Jake’s
station and they walked towards the lounge area in the front of the shop. There
was no office in the shop because there was no need for formalities Jake had figured.
They each took a seat on the black leather couches.

           
“We had a decent week.” Pete said, handing Luke a manila
envelope. “The spreadsheets are all in there, along with the credit card
receipts.” He handed him another envelope. “There should be two thousand there.
Everyone’s been paid, but there are a few bills that came in, those are in the
manila envelope.” Pete said as he leaned back against the sofa, his tattooed
arms sprawling out along the back of the couch.

           
Luke placed the envelopes on top of one another and then
looked up at him. “So everything’s good.”

           
“Yeah, we’re all good.” Pete paused and then ran one of
his hands along his shaved head. “There’s just one thing.”

           
Luke arched an eyebrow and peered at Pete.

           
“I fired Spike.” Pete said flatly and waited for Luke to
respond.

           
Luke drew his eyebrows together as he tried to put a face
to the name. “The guy who does the piercing?” Pete nodded. “What did he do?”

           
Pete blew out a breath and leaned forward as he looked
across at Luke. “He’s been selling pills and I’m not a hundred percent certain,
but he could’ve been selling them out of here a few times.” He paused and let
Luke digest his news then continued cautiously. “To Cara.”

           
Luke tore his eyes away from Pete and looked down at the
floor. “He was selling pills to Cara?”

           
“She came here a few times. She wasn’t herself man, she
was strung out on something.” Pete said remorsefully. “Spike has been dealing
for a few months now. He calls himself the Street Pharmacist so my guess is
she’s killing the pain with prescription pills. Last night she came in her like
a bat out of hell and went straight towards him.
 
I was inking someone so I couldn’t just stop,
but I saw the exchange and by the time I was able to check out what was going
on, she had already left out the back door.”

           
 
Luke swiped his
hands down his face and let out a breath. Cara was spiraling out of control and
he blamed himself. He blamed himself because he knew about this for months and
it was still going on, and now it was probably worse. He should’ve put an end
to it already; he vowed to himself right then and there, that he would now. It
didn’t matter what it took, he wouldn’t fail her or his brother even though he
felt as if he already had failed his brother in more ways than one.

           
“I’m sorry Luke. I didn’t know what else to do. I had to
tell someone, she needs to get help.”

Luke looked up at Pete
and shook his head.

           
“No you did the right thing.” He sighed heavily. “I know
she needs help.” He looked at Pete evenly. “I’ll do everything I can to make
sure she gets it.” He slapped his palms against his knees before he stood to
his full height and leaned down to grab the envelopes. He held them up to Pete.
“Thank you.”

           
Pete nodded and stood as well. “No problem man.” He
followed Luke towards the door. “When are you going to let me finish your
piece?” He asked him.

           
Luke looked down at his arms and stretched them out
before turning them slightly. His inner right forearm had the outline of a
warrior with wings symbolizing Jake’s fall from the greatest battle of his
life. Pete still had to shade it in.
 
His
left forearm had his daughters name scripted across it, Ava Rose, which was
complete. He glanced up at Pete. “I’ll be in touch maybe next week.”

           
“Sounds good. Oh, and good luck with the Cara situation.”
Pete said as Luke waved a hand above his head and walked out of Riverdale Ink.
He was going to need a miracle not luck, he thought as he made his way to his
truck. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to call her. The date stared back
at him and he froze in his tracks. Today was the day she was supposed to marry
Jake. He threw his phone onto the seat of his truck and slammed his palm
against the roof trying to figure out what he should do. It was no use, he was
fucked.

* * * * *

           
Cara Sloane made her way up the steep green grassy hill
in the cemetery. Her feet walked robotically up the incline to the willow tree
that sat perched on top of the hill. The two most important people in Cara’s
life now rested eternally a couple of yards away from one another. Her mother,
who had died when she was just a young girl and the only man she ever loved.
The man she was supposed to marry on this day.

           
Jake Lanza had become her whole life. Still, she wondered
how she never noticed all those years they had been best friends, that, she had
been in love with him. That was just another regret to tack onto the list. Had
she not been too frightened to take that leap and let him know she wanted more
than to be just his friend, they would’ve had more time. She could have been
standing in front of his headstone as his wife and not just his fiancée that
held him as he left this world.

           
Cara stared at the headstone with bloodshot eyes. It
still felt surreal to her that he was gone, and all that was left was the stone
in front of her.

           
“Today should’ve been the happiest day of our lives.” She
said flatly. “Instead, I’m talking to your tombstone, wondering for the love of
God, why
I
am still here?” She looked
up at the clear sky. She had never questioned death when her mother had passed,
but now it was all she could do. “I know you’re at peace and I should be
thankful for that, but I can’t be. I never realized what a selfish person I
was. You were suffering and all I could do was keep praying that you wouldn't
leave me."

           
She paused for a moment, then glanced back at Jake’s
headstone and lifted her bare left hand. “I’m not wearing your ring anymore.
Your sister and Nick are engaged.
 
They’re really going to get married; you always said they belonged
together.” She frowned and let her hand fall to her side. “I guess seeing them
so happy and on the brink of a wedding made me feel a little ridiculous. Sam’s
wearing a ring that is full of promise and represents the future, when all mine
did was represent the past and something that will never be. I will never be
your wife.”

           
She let out a shaky breath that she seemed to be holding
in. “I guess that’s what it meant all those times I dreamt of myself getting
married.
 
In my dreams I never saw who I
was marrying; there was no one there waiting for me at the altar.”

           
She kneeled before his head stone, not caring that the
ground was moist and her jeans would surely stain. She reached into her
pocketbook and pulled out a black leather bound journal. Her fingertips grazed
the cover before she averted her eyes back to his stone.

           
“I found your journal.” She said her voice hoarse and
full of emotion as she tapped the cover of the book she held in her trembling
hands. “There must be something wrong with me because every page made me madder
and madder.” She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “I’m so mad at
you, because each letter is a goodbye. You knew we weren’t going to get
married.” She opened her eyes and the tears slipped from the corners as she did
so. She lifted the book to the stone as if he could see it. “It’s all right
here in your own words. You expect me to move on with my life when all I can
think about is how angry I am that you knew you would leave me. You said your
goodbyes while all I got to do was watch you die.”

           
She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand before
she slipped the book back into her bag. “Well, now wherever you are it’s your
turn to watch.” She straightened her posture and stared at his name. “You can
watch me exist...” She wouldn’t dare say live, because she knew that was
anything but what she was doing. No, exist was the better choice of word. She
stood up and brushed the fresh grass clippings off of her jeans. “… Until I
don’t anymore.” The last part of her sentence came out in a harsh strangled
whisper. She sniffled before leaning down to press her lips against the cold
headstone. Her warm lips full of life against the slab of stone only
reinforcing the fact that she was alone. She stood straight and reached into
her purse to pull out the orange prescription bottle that was her salvation.
She unscrewed the cap and threw her head back as she shook the pills into her
mouth. She closed her eyes as she swallowed the pills. Her eyes slowly
fluttered open and she turned on her heel without another glance towards Jake’s
tombstone.