All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 10

Arriana

“You seem awfully quiet.” I ignore Andrew’s attempts at conversation, focusing intently on the target across the field. “Yo, Earth to Ree.”

Sighing, I click the safety on and slip off the noise reduction earmuffs. Leveling him with an annoyed glare, I snap, “What?”

“Wow.” He laughs, holding his hands up. “Bit touchy there, aren’t ya?” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms and giving him a look I hope conveys my level of annoyance.

It’s been several days since Fallon effectively removed herself from my life once and for all. She’s completely cut me off, won’t even look at the messages I send anymore. My only solace is she hasn’t blocked my number, all my messages still showing as delivered a small reassurance in this hellscape I find myself in.

I can feel myself reaching a boiling point. A point that, if I let myself fall entirely into the anger and pain, I don’t know if I’ll be able to claw my way out again. Not that I’d want to if she wasn’t there waiting for me.

If it wasn’t for Andrew, I’d have already gone off the deep end, of that I’m certain.

And even still, I can’t decide if I’m grateful or if I want to let out some of this never ending aggression on him and disappear.

“You’ve got that scary psycho murderer look going on right now. And I don’t really enjoy being on the receiving end of it.” He chuckles, but I can hear the slight twinge of anxiety in his voice.

Snorting, I shake my head, sliding my earmuffs back into place. I turn back toward the target, flick off the safety, and shoot off three rounds. I remove the ear protection and set the safety once more on the small handgun before setting both down and taking off. Bouncing down the field, I snatch up the paper target and return to Andrew, shoving it into his hands. “If I wanted you dead, Drewbie, you’d be dead.” I whistle as I walk away, not having to look back to know what he sees.

A paper target with three bullet holes. One in the heart, one in the head, and one in the dick.

“You know, you scare me sometimes!” Andrew calls out, making me laugh my first genuine laugh in a long time.

Glancing over my shoulder, I wink at him. “Good.”

There’s a brief moment of stunned silence before he barks a laugh, his heavy footfalls sounding shortly after. “Seriously though, Arriana. You seem off, even more than usual.” Andrew elbows my ribs, smirking to hide the worry in his expression.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair as I pull out my phone. I know there’s no getting out of this conversation, not when he’s got his mind set.

Without a word, I open my very one-sided text conversation with Fallon and hand it over to him. My fingers itch to be doing something as I watch him scroll back and read through the multitude of unanswered messages. His expression grows more and more concerned with each one, his forehead creasing and a slight scowl on his face.

“This is…”

“Pathetic?” I cut him off, snatching the phone back and rereading some of the most recent texts.

Me

What do you mean you’re sorry?

There’s nothing to be sorry about,

it was a perfect night baby

Me

Baby. Please don’t do this

Me

Fallon. Fallon please

Me

I love you mi vida. I love you so fucking

much, we can figure this out together.

Please don’t ignore me

I shake my head, locking the phone and shifting my gaze to stare out across the empty field. Memories I had long since repressed trying to surface once again.

“Mamá? Plea-please don’t ignore me.”

I blink, shaking my head once more to push aside the intrusive cry. A distant memory, the day my life changed forever.

Closing my eyes, I focus instead on Fallon’s beautiful face. Her iridescent eyes, pale complexion, naturally peach tinted lips. Long flowing blonde hair the color of a perfect sunrise.

My mind travels to the little things, to the imperfections and personalized aspects of her appearance that make her her .

Like the slit in her eyebrow, her slightly off center glasses as the frames are bent from repeated use, her chipped nail polish. Always chipped. I don’t know how she manages to do it, but I’ve never seen her with a perfect polish. The faint scar line that’s just beneath her chin. A small tattoo on either side of her spine of a pair of broken wings, feathers cascading below the wings in crumpled forms.

I envision every bump, every curve, every soft angle of her perfect body. From head to toe, I picture her in my mind’s eye and feel the distress inside grow at the realization that this might be all I have now.

Memories.

Clearing my throat, I slip my phone into my pocket and open my eyes to find Andrew watching me. “You got clean up today?” I jerk my head toward our set up.

He nods, opening his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Thanks, Drewbie.” Blowing him a kiss, I dart away, desperate to get home and surround myself with the things that will keep her memory alive.

“It’ll hurt less now than later.”

For the umpteenth time, I replay her words, trying to convince myself that there’s some truth in them. But I can’t, because deep down I know it’s a lie.

She’s mine. She always has been. Always will be.

I don’t care how much more it will hurt later, I don’t care about anything other than getting my baby back into my arms.

Drewbie

Got a job, want it?

I glance at my phone, a smile spreading on my face. Andrew and I have spoken several times since I bared my miserable state to him. I want to be annoyed at his mother henning, the constant check up messages and excuses to hang out.

But, oddly enough, all I feel is gratitude. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone care about me this much outside of Fallon, and even then, the first time someone who truly knows who I am. What I am. And still accepts me.

Me

Bet your sweet ass I do *winking emoji*

Drewbie

*eye roll emoji* very professional

Me

*middle finger emoji*

The text bubbles pop up and disappear several times, making me chuckle as I imagine Andrew trying to think of the best comeback. After a while, he gives up as the bubbles disappear.

I shake my head, tucking away my phone. I know he’ll get me the info when it’s ready, even if he’s pissy when he does it.

Pushing up from the couch, I walk into my bedroom with the intent to shower and get ready for when the hit comes through. Sir Ichabod chirps from his crate, derailing my plans.

“My precious baby boy.” I croon, crossing the room and unlatching the metal to pull him into my arms. He chitters away, nuzzling against me in an attempt to roam free.

Chuckling, I set him down, watching as he darts about the room. An uneasy feeling settles low in my gut as I watch him, a gnawing sensation I’ve become familiar with in the time I’ve been separated from Fallon.

As he moves to explore the rest of the apartment, the melancholy spreading through me deepens. It makes no sense, but as I watch him disappear, all I can feel is the emptiness my life is. A feeling I haven’t had in a long time.

I slam the door, stomping into the house.

“Stop it right there, young lady.” Linda calls out, emerging from the kitchen. Her hands are covered in flour, the apron she has tied around her waist also sprinkled with the white powder.

Rolling my eyes, I flip her off and continue my furious stomps down the hall. I beeline toward the room that has become my bedroom, opening and slamming that door as well.

This fucking sucks.

Kicking off my shoes, I fling my body face first down on the bed. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to do something to get rid of this feeling inside of me. But somehow I know it won’t do any good, nothing I do now can change what happened.

A quiet knock sounds on the door. “Go away.” I grumble against the bedding, too drained to lift my head to shout the demand.

The door creaks open anyway and I let out an exasperated breath, pushing up on my hands to glare over my shoulder. “I said go away , Li-” My words cut off as I spot, not my adoptive mother, but one of the other boys her and her husband adopted and expect me to call my family.

Even though I have a family.

Had a family.

“Hey, Arri.” Cooper murmurs, his easy going smile only serving to aggravate my nerves.

Huffing, I crawl up the bed and slump back against the headboard, leveling him with a venomous gaze. “What do you want, Cooper?” I bite out, crossing my arms.

He glances over his shoulder before closing the door and crossing the room. “Can I?” He gestures to the empty space beside me.

I shrug my shoulders, already feeling the volatile emotions beginning to fade, leaving behind an empty ache. Not that I’d admit it to anyone, but I’d rather not be alone when the worst of it hits.

Cooper crawls up beside me, bending one of his legs and stretching the other out in front of him. “Rough day?” He finally asks after a few moments of silence.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Guess you could say that.”

It really was one. Stupid Suzie Crawford found out what happened to my parents, my real parents, and made it her personal mission to terrorize me all day. Not that it’s any different than any other day with her, but this one hit extra hard as she poked fun at my dead mother and incarcerated father.

“Wanna talk about it?” Cooper offers, pulling me from the painful thoughts.

I shrug again, staring at the corner of the room. We sit in silence until I can’t take the quiet anymore. “What do you want me to say?” I snap. “My life sucks. I miss my parents. I miss my home. I miss my language .” Sighing heavily, I run a hand through my hair, wishing things were different.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve been here for several years already, that all the therapists, case workers, and judges think I should be “well adjusted” because I’m now in a “normal” home life. I’m never going to feel at home. Not here. Not where I’m not understood on the most basic level.

“Would it help if I learned?”

The quiet question startles me. Turning my gaze to meet his honey eyes, I find something reflected back at me I didn’t think I ever would again. “What do you mean?” I look away, refusing to accept the possibility I could have a friend. That there could be someone who cares about me enough to want me happy.

“Your language. Teach me.” Cooper nudges my shoulder with his, a twinkle in his eye. Almost as if he’s excited to learn.

I shake my head, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Don’t pretend you care.” I mutter, resting my chin on my bent knees.

Cooper scoffs, clutching his chest with his hand. “That is offensive. I do care.” When I don’t respond, he gently places his hand on my shoulder. “Please, give me a chance.”

Swallowing around the emotions the memory brings up, I pull out my phone, opening the contacts. My finger hovers over Cooper’s name, but I can’t bring myself to reach out to him. He’s got his own life, his own worries. He doesn’t have to add on his little sister’s bullshit, no matter how close we grew to be as kids.

An incoming text makes my decision, the expected details for the job. Clicking on the message instead, I quickly peruse the info before setting down my phone on my dresser and heading into the bathroom to get ready.

While I won’t be able to alleviate some of these feelings right now, at least I’ll have something to focus on in the meantime. Something to distract me from the aching sorrow that’s become my constant companion.