All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 4

Arriana

“Wai-wait.” The man gasps, lifting his hands in a useless shield.

I tilt my head, a manic grin covering my face. “You want to play some more first?” He looks at me with wide, horrified eyes.

“Crazy bitch.” Killian mutters behind me.

I tilt my head in his direction, my smile widening. “Oh, you love me, grandpa.” His jaw tightens at the nickname, sending a thrill through me.

He makes it too easy.

Chuckling to myself, I return my attention to the man kneeling before me. Normally I would know more about our targets, but I’ve been…distracted. My mind keeps wandering back to Fallon and what could be distressing her so much.

My irritation grows at my lack of answers and this man being the reason I had to leave in the first place. Cocking my head, I twirl the knife in my hand, running my gaze down his battered body.

He might have already paid a little bit for his part in this all. And by a little bit, I mean he may be missing some fingers, toes, and one ear.

What can I say, I’m upset.

Sniffling, he cowers away from my attention, as if making himself appear smaller will protect him from my wrath. I bend to a crouch, snapping my hand out to grip the back of his head. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got places to be, people to see.” He opens his mouth to protest but doesn’t get far as I stab the blade through the side of his neck.

A sickening satisfaction fills me as I see the end pierce through the other side, his lips opening and closing soundlessly as he chokes on his own blood around the sharp knife.

Beautiful.

Killian makes a noise of disgust, pulling my focus back from the sight of the man’s life slipping away.

I don’t know why I find such joy in taking the life of another. It’s just something that’s always been part of me. I was enraptured with violence and death even as a child, constantly trying to sneak peeks at the grownup movies my brothers got to watch because they were older and boys.

The hypocrisy from my adoptive parents always irritated me. As if being a sixteen year-old-boy somehow makes you better suited to watch mangled and mutilated bodies on TV. I don’t get why it would be any different for a thirteen-year-old girl, but whatever.

It wasn’t until I was nineteen that I fully came into my own realization of how sweet ending another life could be.

I walk down the aisle, pushing the cart and bobbing my head to the music in my headphones.

I’m so lost in my mission to finish the shopping list that I don’t catch the man following behind me until I’ve purchased all my things and begun my trek back home.

“Hey, sweet thing.” He calls behind me, his voice loud enough to hear over the playlist in my ears.

My spine stiffens as I tug the headphones out and speed up my steps. I can hear the heavy thump of his footfalls as he continues his pursuit. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end at the feel of his breath ghosting over my skin moments before he grips my arm and yanks my body to face him.

“Don’t ignore me now, pretty girl.” The man drags his gaze down my body with a lick of his lips. “What do you say we have us a good time?”

I shake my head, backing away as I try to pull free from his hold. “N-no, I’m good.” I snap back, cursing myself for the shake of my voice. The fear and frustration build as my back presses against a firm surface, effectively having cornered myself between him and one of the buildings in my attempt to break free.

“Don’t be like that, baby.” He growls, pressing his disgusting cock against me. I suppress a gag as I feel the hard length on my thigh.

Breathing through my nose, I glare up at him. “Back the fuck off.” I snarl, my anger burning off the fear trying to creep up.

He looks down at me, reaching his free hand up to run it down my neck. My eyes dart around the empty sidewalk, wishing I hadn’t come alone.

I thought I was fine. That no one and nothing could hurt me.

I was wrong.

His hand encircles my throat, pulling a shocked gasp from me. It was the wrong thing to do as his eyes darken at the sound, his cock twitching against my leg. “That’s it, make some noise for me.” He groans, leaning closer.

My body is frozen as I try desperately to remember what my brothers taught me during one of the few times we all got along.

“Go for the low blow.” Spencer chuckles, squaring off against our brother.

Cooper stands his ground, beckoning Spencer to take his best shot. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter if it’s the ‘coward’s way out’, Arri. You’ve just gotta distract them long enough to get away.”

“Yup yup, a swift kick to the balls will do that.” Spencer smirks as he flies forward, knocking Cooper to the ground.

I can hear their laughter echo in my head, their words giving me the strength I need to get out of this, to get away from him .

Shifting so I can try to knee him, I let out a frustrated noise when I can’t move. The bags of groceries slip from my hold as I uselessly push my palms against his chest. “Get off of me.” I demand, my voice cracking as my attempts to free myself do nothing.

Undeterred by my continued demands, the man reaches between us, sliding his zipper down. I grit my teeth as I hear the metal sliding, the sound bringing me closer and closer to his gross dick. Closing my eyes, I brace myself for what’s about to happen, for what I can’t fight against.

Just when I’m about to give up all hope, the man is suddenly gone.

I blink my eyes open, looking around in shock. My gaze lands on the man kneeling a few feet from me, his hand twisted back so far I’m surprised it hasn’t snapped. He whimpers and cries, pleading to be released. My eyes shift and I gasp at the person beside him.

Dressed in all black like some vigilante, the stranger stands above my assailant. The little light shining from a nearby street lamp reflects off his head. His eyes are shadowed, but from the set of his jaw I can see the animosity rolling off of him.

He glares down at the asshole at his feet. “You like picking on helpless girls, do you?” He seethes, twisting the man’s wrist further. The other man shrieks, trying uselessly to free himself.

Shifting his gaze toward me, the mysterious man calls, “You okay, princess?”

A wave of shame hits me at how weak I must seem right now. My earlier frustration growing once more that I required saving, that I had to rely on someone to swoop in. Swallowing down the emotions, I make a mental vow to never let myself be this helpless again.

With my new set determination, I jerk my head, willing the shake of my body to calm down.

The vigilante’s eyes soften before he returns his furious gaze back to the sniveling man at his feet. “I should put you in the ground for this.” He snarls, bending to a crouch next to him.

I catch sight of something reflective in his hand and find my feet moving of their own volition. A desire to make my attacker pay nearly as strong as the frustration at my own helplessness. I can feel the anticipation growing with each step.

Coming to a stop beside him, I lay my shaky hand on the mystery man’s shoulder, pulling his attention to me. “Ca-can I?” I ask, cursing myself for the tremble of my lips and stutter of my words.

He studies me for a moment before inclining his head and passing over the blade.

My fingers close around the handle and I feel a settling deep in my soul, as if this moment is years in the making. Hidden thoughts and fantasies of letting out some of the burning need for violence bubbling up.

Without a word, I snap my wrist forward and stab my would-be rapist in the heart. Or what I had hoped would be his heart. I must have missed as he doesn’t crumple into a bloody heap as I expected, but rather howls and tries to pull away.

A soft chuckle sounds beside me. “Nice try, wanna go again?”

My jaw sets as a renewed determination takes over. I roll back my shoulders with a jerk of my head.

I can do this.

He grips the handle and rips it from the man’s chest, blood trickling from the wound. Taking the offered blade once more, I run my gaze over the man’s body, trying to figure out where to strike next.

It’s so different doing this than I imagined, than any media has portrayed. I always thought I would instinctually know what to do, but it’s become apparent I was wrong.

“The throat is always a good bet.” The deep voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. My eyes zero in on my assailant’s throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he repeatedly swallows. “If you stab right through, sometimes you’ll be able to see the blade poke out the other side. It’s a pretty brutal way to go.”

Brutal.

I like the sound of that.

Moving my arm out to get as much momentum as I can, I slam my hand against the man’s throat, the blade sinking into his flesh. Peeking around his head, I smile as I see the end poking out the other side of his neck.

My mystery savior turned murder sensei whistles beside me, drawing my attention to him once more. I turn and find his face covered in a wide grin. “That was pretty badass, princess.” He chuckles, releasing his hold on the dying man. Extending his hand to me, his grin widens when I tentatively shake it. “Name’s Andrew.”

I swallow, glancing at the sputtering man lying on the pavement before looking back at Andrew. “Arriana.”

Who knew that night would be the beginning of, well, everything. Shortly after that first meeting, Andrew and I became close friends and one thing led to another and now I’m a super badass hitwoman with Andrew as my business partner.

A grunt sounds beside me as Killian picks up the deceased man’s body and gets to work cleaning up the crime scene.

Okay, a super badass hitwoman with two business partners, one of which might not be my biggest fan. But I’m working on that.

“Fallon came by.” Killian says, shocking me out of my thoughts.

I narrow my eyes at him, confused why he’s telling me this. He’s not usually a wealth of information and I have to typically pry anything from him. “Okay?” I ask slowly.

Shrugging, he continues his task. “She seemed upset.” He moves his eyes to mine and a shudder runs down my body at the look in them. “Thought you’d want to know.”

Okay, something is definitely wrong.

And I need to find out what.

I don’t respond to him, working quickly to help clean up so we can get the fuck out of here.

I knew it was a dumb idea leaving things how I did. Estúpida . So fucking stupid.

My stomach churns with an unfamiliar anxiety as we work, Fallon’s downcast expression haunting me with each passing second. I’m practically buzzing by the time we climb back into the car we rode over together in. My knee bounces the entire way back to our shared building.

As soon as Killian puts the car in park, I leap from the vehicle and rush inside, brushing past the doorman on my way in. Jamming my finger against the elevator button, I chew on my fingernails as I wait.

Killian joins me, stepping into the lift without a word, the forever stoic man.

Unless it’s his relationship on the line.

I suppress an eye roll at the familiar scene and how I had comforted him at the time, but alas, the man has no words of wisdom or comfort for me.

Of course not. Stupid men.

He inserts his key into the elevator, twisting to unlock the doors so they slide open to reveal his living area. His penthouse is fancier than mine, but I don’t need all this, my nice two bedroom condo with a beautiful view of Seattle is enough for me and mine.

Rushing into the room, I look around wildly. Ava comes down the hall, her hair wrapped up in a towel. “Oh.” She mumbles, coming to a stop when she sees me.

My eyes narrow and I take a step toward her. “Oh?” I echo, something about her reaction to seeing me doesn’t sit right, beyond our usual slight animosity toward one another.

Gulping, she adjusts the waistband of her sleep shorts, shifting her eyes between Killian and me. “Did, um, did you talk to Fallon?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, genuine concern filling her eyes.

Taking another step closer, I grit my teeth. “No. Where is she?”

I don’t know what she sees on my face, but whatever it is is enough to trigger her fight and flight response. Squaring her shoulders, she opts for fight. “She’s not here.” Ava snaps, crossing her arms.

Okay, this bitch.

Before I can react further, Killian steps around me, blocking her from my view. “Enough.” He growls, jutting his arm toward the elevator. “She’s not here so leave.”

I puff my chest out at him, my body humming with fear fueled anger. Deciding it’s not worth the effort to deal with them right now, I spin on my heel and leave. My heart is pounding erratically in my chest the entire ride down to my floor. By the time I slide my key into the door and push inside the apartment, I’m surprised I haven’t had a heart attack.

“Fallon? Baby?” I call, closing the door behind me.

Quiet cries reach me and I run.

Sprinting as fast as I can, I dash down the hall and skid to a stop in our bedroom, my head whipping around for the cause of her tears. I come up empty, finding the only person in the room is Fallon. She sits on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands in her lap with her head dipped forward, her hair hiding her face.

I move to take a step forward to comfort her when my eyes land on the suitcase sitting on the floor beside her. A strangled noise escapes my throat at the sight, pulling her attention to me. “Baby?” I croak, taking a shaky step toward her.

Fallon watches me, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s going on?” I ask, looking between her and that goddamn bag. She doesn’t respond, the only sound her broken breaths around her tears. Kneeling before her, I take her hands in mine, silently begging her that I’m misreading this. But she doesn’t deny it, she doesn’t say a word.

After several moments of agonizing silence, I finally ask, my voice cracking, “Why?”

Fallon’s eyes sadden further. “Because it’s not real.”

My heart spasms, my chest cracking open. “Not real.” I repeat, trying to understand the words.

She extracts one of her hands, running her fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry.” She whispers.

I shake my head, pushing to my feet. “No.” I mumble, pacing the space in front of her. “ No. ” I repeat, more forceful this time. Fallon flinches, her fingers bunching up the fabric of her sweats. “Fuck that. It’s real.” I spin toward her, taking her face between my hands as I beg. As I lie my heart wide open. “ Mi vida , it’s real. We’re real.”

Fallon’s expression pains at my words, but it’s not enough, I can see it in her eyes.

“Please,” I beg, tightening my hold. “Please don’t leave me. I-” My voice cuts off as a sob breaks from my chest. “I love you.”

A sorrowful noise to match my own comes from her, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t tell me the words back. Instead, she watches me with a broken look. One that conveys too much and too little all at once.

“Please don’t do this.” It’s a desperate plea. But the words aren’t enough, they’re not enough to keep her here with me.

Unsure what else to do, I slam my mouth to hers, hoping the connection with our physical bodies might be enough to tether her here.

She groans into the kiss, her hands going to my hair, clinging to me like I’m a lifeline.

If you need me so badly, why are you leaving me?

I can’t voice the question out loud, instead I put it into my actions. Pushing her back, I hover over her body, kissing down her neck. I grip the hem of her shirt, tugging it up and over her head. Her perfect tits captivate me, the thought of never seeing them again breaking me apart further.

Leaning down, I take her pebbled nipple into my mouth, licking the sensitive nub. She writhes beneath me as I reach up and pinch her other nipple between my fingers.

See, you want me.

I slide my thigh between hers to add friction as she bucks her hips. Moving my mouth to her other breast, I nip and suck until she’s a mewling mess beneath me.

Pulling back, I grip her sweats and yank them down her body, my eyes running over her bare flesh.

I need you.

I run my fingers down her chest, along her stomach, stopping just shy of her pussy. She arches into my touch, wordlessly begging me to go lower. My eyes flick up to hers, tears welling in mine as I find them streaming down her face.

Please don’t leave me.

I shift down the bed and lower myself onto her, kissing along her thighs. The need to mark her, to claim her as mine, overwhelms me. I sink my teeth into her soft flesh, the sound of her crying out echoes in the room.

“Ple-please.” She begs.

I don’t know if she’s begging me to stop, to keep going, to let her leave, or to force her to stay.

“ Te amo. ” I whisper against her skin, wishing the words changed anything. A quiet sob breaks from my chest again as I turn my face and spear my tongue into her pussy. The salty taste of my tears mingles with the sweet taste of her.

No peudo vivir sin ti.

Please don’t make me.

Sliding my tongue out, I push back in, fucking her with it as my soul cries out. Fallon whimpers, her body writhing under my attention. Sliding a hand up, I circle her clit with my fingers, my other hand gripping her thigh so hard I’m sure it’ll bruise. Just another hopeless attempt to mark her as mine.

Mi vida.

My life. I won’t survive without you.

The thoughts swirl as I build her up, her body tensing. Just as she grows close to her release, I sit upright, making her cry out, “Why?”

“Why?” I whisper, licking my lips and finding the taste of her on them. “Why?” I repeat louder, moving to hover over her, my legs straddling hers as I’m inches above her face. “You’re right. Why ? Why the fuck are you leaving?” I growl, my hurt morphing into anger.

Her eyes widen, never having been on the other end of my wrath. “I-I-” She stammers.

I run my fingers down her throat, tracing down her body slowly. “You?”

“I-I can’t do this.” She cries, gasping as I shove two fingers inside of her.

“You can’t do what, baby?” I ask, curling my fingers. Her head pushes back into the pillow, body arching as I brush against her sweet spot. “Answer the question.” I demand, stopping my movements.

Her eyes fly open, a heat to match my own anger burning in the green pools. When I make no move to resume fingering her, she closes her eyes, releasing a heavy breath. “I can’t keep hurting you.” She whispers.

My heart stops.

“Baby.”

She doesn’t respond.

I rest on my forearm, gripping her chin with my free hand. “Baby, look at me.” Blinking her eyes open, she meets mine. “You’re hurting me now.” I murmur, running my thumb along her jaw.

She flinches, a fresh wave of agony crossing her face. “I know.” The words are barely a breath, a broken acknowledgement to what she’s doing. But it doesn’t stop her from ripping my heart from my chest and tearing it to shreds. “It’s better this way. It-” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “It’ll hurt less now than later.”

I search her eyes, desperate to find what changed, what happened to bring this all on. “There doesn’t have to be a later, mi vida. I love you. I fucking love you.” I curl my fingers inside of her, pushing my palm down on her clit. Her eyes roll back, breasts pressing against mine. “You’re my life. I-I won’t survive without you.” I admit, my voice cracking. “Please stay.”

My fingers brush against that spot again and her mouth falls open in a silent cry as her orgasm washes over her. I watch her closely, memorizing every small movement, every little detail.

Because, even as I said the words, even as I laid my heart bare, I knew it wasn’t enough.

She’s already left me.

The moment she packed that bag.

She was gone.