All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 28

Arriana

2 months later

One hundred and forty-four days and…

I glance at the clock sitting on the wall of the dining room.

Seventy-three minutes.

That’s how long it’s been since I was arrested.

I’m seriously regretting the decision to not listen to Andrew to take Fallon and run.

Not that I’ll ever admit that to him.

At first I was relieved when Andrew told me that my arrest was for assault and battery on Scarlett. The stupid bitch deserved it, and that was easy enough for him to bribe my way out of.

However, that relief was quickly dashed when my mugshot ran through the system and was flagged in connection to Thomas’ murder.

Fucking bullshit.

The added level of severity to my crimes has made things more difficult to clear my name.

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” Andrew assures me.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I look over the small park we decided to meet at today. He’s been saying the same thing for the last three months with no luck. Changing the topic, I massage my aching shoulder as I ask, “How’s Fallon?”

Andrew’s eyes sadden before he shifts his gaze around the busy park. “Not great.” My heart cracks at his quiet words. “She’s staying with her brother, helping him during his recovery from what I’ve gathered, but…” His voice trails off as he rubs the back of his neck.

“But what?” I press, turning to fully face him.

Andrew flicks his eyes down before looking back up at me. “We just need to get you back home.” He says instead of answering my question.

I wasn’t able to get more information out of him at the time, and still haven’t nearly two months later.

Groaning, I push up from the table, snatching up my plate and making my way over to deposit the uneaten food into the trash. I’ve lost so much weight since being here I’m starting to grow concerned at my ability to still hold my own in a fight. I just can’t bring myself to shovel down the disgusting stuff Billie likes to call food, my nerves making me constantly nauseous aren’t helping matters either.

So much of my time here reminds me of the various foster homes I was forced into before Linda and Henry adopted me. The disgusting food, the strict rules, and the horrible companions I find myself trapped behind these walls with.

“If it isn’t the psycho bitch.” A snide voice calls out behind me.

My back stiffens at the sound of Zandra’s voice. One such person who I’d love to let out some of my pent up frustration on, but knowing I can’t without jeopardizing my place here.

Zandra, or Alexandra Cassidy, has made my life a living hell since I arrived.

Sure, I might not have helped matters when I busted her lip on my second day here. But she was a cunt, so what did she expect?

“Fresh meat.” Zandra snickers, puffing her chest out and placing her hands on her hips. Her green eyes drag down my body, setting my teeth on edge at the lust shining in them.

There is only one set of green eyes I want looking at me like that.

“What team do you play for?” She hums, licking her lips.

My lip curls back. “Not yours.”

Zandra chuckles, clucking her tongue. “Huh, coulda sworn you were giving off vag vibes.” She takes a step closer to me, her chest nearly brushing against mine. “Don’t worry though, freshie. You’ll learn to love it.”

I lean away as I bark a laugh. “Oh, you misunderstood me.” Dragging my gaze down her body and back up, I sneer, “I’m strictly a tacos gal. I’m just not interested in eating yours .”

She reels back, her eyes widening in shock for a split second before narrowing to slits. “The fuck did you just say?” She hisses.

I quirk an eyebrow, pretending to flick hair over my shoulder as I turn my back to her. “You heard me.”

Before I can take a step, I’m tackled to the ground. Flipping me on my back, Zandra straddles my hips, wrapping her hands around my neck as she leans forward to spit out, “You’re going to pay for that.”

A laugh bubbles up from my chest at her threat, because, who the fuck is she?

“What’s so funny?” She demands, tightening her fingers to accentuate her question, but not enough that I can’t still speak.

I laugh again. “Love the ferocity,” My humor dies off as I drop my tone low. “But you shouldn’t make threats you can’t follow through on.”

Before she can respond, I roll us over so she’s flat on her back and I’m now straddling her. “See, you don’t know me,” I bend over, hovering my face over hers, my teeth bared. “But you’re going to now, puta .” My fist flies forward, connecting with her mouth, the impact busting her lip open.

Leaping to my feet, I walk away from the pathetic woman as she sobs like I’ve broken her jaw instead of split her lip. Her voice carries after me, making my heart clench. “Psycho bitch!”

“Don’t call me that.” I snarl, slamming my plate down and turning to face Zandra and her stupid fucking clique.

Seriously, are we in high school? Because these girls follow her around like she’s the queen bee or something, and I’m sick of it.

“What’s the matter, puta ?” Zandra sneers, making her squad chuckle. “I looked that up, by the way. I also looked something else up and I gotta say, bitch doesn’t do you justice, perra psicópata .” Her eyes sparkle as she catches my teeth grinding.

Her pronunciation is shit as she says the words how they’re spelled, per-raw sy-co-pat-uh, but I can tell what she’s trying to say, and the repeated insult sends me into a near blind rage.

“Congratulations,” I clap my hands. “You learned how to use a dictionary.” Zandra’s eyes narrow at me, but I don’t stop. “ Quizás la próxima vez puedas aprender a usar un espejo. Tu perra fea .”

I laugh as she lunges for me, dancing out of her reach. “ ?Qué pasa, mija? ” I chuckle, thoroughly enjoying the rise I can get out of her. “Your dictionary didn’t teach you that one?”

She stands upright, balling her fists and glaring at me. “I don’t know what the fuck you just said to me, but you’re going to take it back.”

My eyes dart between her and her posse as they stalk toward me. “Now, now ladies.” I say, holding my hands up as I back away. “No need to get your panties in a bunch. Here, I’ll even help you for next time. Want to really insult someone? Tu madre debería haberte tragado . Just ask yours.” Spinning on my heel, I take off, laughing wildly as I run down the hallway and up the stairs.

Billie shouts after me to slow down, but I don’t care. Fuck this place and fuck all of them.

I glare out the window, my heart aching as I long to hear the sound of my baby’s voice. To see her eyes light up as she tells me about her latest story or an idea she has but is too nervous to put down on paper.

The longer I spend behind these walls, the more I feel like a caged animal. The fact I couldn’t bring my phone with me and that Billie has strict rules regarding the house phone usage makes matters even worse as I can’t even call home to hear Fallon’s voice.

We’re each only given limited access and can only call our approved contact, in my case that contact being Andrew. I get the reasoning behind the rules, the fear someone might say the wrong thing to the wrong person and bring her home crashing down. Even still, I’ve very nearly caved and dialed Fallon’s number instead on numerous occasions.

Fuck .

I groan as I run a hand down my face, aching to get away from this place. Needing to be back in the arms of the woman who is my entire world. My mind wanders, picturing my beautiful nymph and just what I’d do to her if she were here with me now.

Glancing over my shoulder, I find I have a rare moment of privacy. I leap to my feet and shut the bedroom door, needing to do something about the ache between my legs, to release some of the painful need that has only grown during our separation.

Climbing the bunk beds to lie on my hard mattress, I slip my hand beneath my waistband, biting my lip as I brush my fingers across my clit. Slowly pushing them inside of my aching pussy, I imagine it’s her fingers. “Fallon.” I moan quietly, my eyes squeezing shut. My fingers pump in and out beneath my pants, bringing me closer and closer to the edge as Fallon fills my mind.

Her gorgeous blonde locks cascading over her bare shoulders. Perky breasts, nipples pebbled. Goosebumps cover every inch of her exposed skin. Her mouth hanging open, head tipped back as ecstasy floods her system.

My mouth waters, needing to taste her, but it’s only a memory.

I groan, forcing myself to focus on the image of her and not my current predicament.

Her body arches, hands roaming over her pale skin. “Please.” She begs, her eyes on mine, pupils blown wide with desire. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, drawing a moan from her chest as she slips her hands between her thighs and spreads her legs. Her fingers move to part her lips, laying her glistening pussy on display for me.

“Fuck.” The word is a breathless whisper on my lips. My body convulses, the sensations heightened as the echoes of her pleasure sound in my mind.

I come down from the high of my orgasm, an ache in my chest as I blink my eyes open and find I’m alone.

Pulling my hand from my pants, I drape my arm over my eyes, trying to push back the now familiar melancholy. I don’t know how much longer I’ll survive living here, separated from the person who makes my life worth living.

As the pain rips my heart apart, one even more distressing thought fills my mind.

Is she okay without me?