All My Broken Pieces (FindingLight #2)

Chapter 46

Fallon

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” I’m anxious to get on the road to wherever Arriana is taking us, but I can’t help the guilt at leaving Hudson behind.

He smiles, pulling me into a tight hug. I’m startled by the sudden embrace, stiffening before relaxing into his arms and wrapping my own around him. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.” His hold tightens, squeezing the air from my lungs. But I find I don’t care, it feels so good to be able to hug him like this again. “You…you helped save my life, Fal.” He whispers.

My heart cracks, moisture pricking at the back of my eyes. “I didn’t do anything.” I admit, my mind replaying all the ways I failed him over the last few months.

Pulling back, he moves to grip my shoulders, shaking his head. “No. You did. More than you’ll ever know. I-” He gulps, glancing around to make sure there’s no one in earshot.

I follow his gaze, finding the apartment around us empty. Turning to him once more, I wait for him to finish his thought.

Releasing me, he runs a hand through his hair. “I was trying to end it that night.” He admits, shocking me into a stunned silence.

I had thought he might have, but to hear it out loud…it’s so much worse.

Avoiding my gaze, he lets out a heavy breath. “I was so alone. I-I couldn’t keep doing it. Not being able to accept who I was, having to try to pretend that none of it mattered.” Running another shaky hand through his hair, he shifts his eyes to mine. “But then you showed up. And you kept showing up. Even when your own world was falling apart.” The tears welling up in mine are mirrored in his eyes, a small smile forming on his face. “I can’t ever thank you enough, Cher. All I can say is thank you and I love you.”

I feel the wet trails sliding down my cheeks as the dam of emotion breaks. Launching forward, I pull him back into my arms. “I love you so fucking much, Hudson. I’m always here for you. No matter where I am, I’m just a phone call away.” He buries his face in my neck, nodding his head.

“Fallon!” Arriana calls. “Time to go, baby.”

I reluctantly pull away, pausing momentarily to hold Hudson’s gaze as I repeat. “Seriously, if you ever need me. Call.”

He smiles, holding up one hand with his small finger outstretched toward me. “Pinky promise.” I can’t hold back the grin as I curl my pinky finger around his. Moving our connected hands in a sharp handshake, he pulls back and shoos me out the door. “Now go, live your happily ever after, sis.”

Giggling, I spin toward the door, excited to begin the adventure. As I turn, my eyes pass over the kitchen, giving me pause. I clear my throat, gesturing toward the door. “You go ahead, I’ll be there in a moment.” Hudson looks at me curiously before bending to pick up the last box and heading out the door.

I watch after his retreating form momentarily until I’m certain he’s out of sight. Moving quickly, I snatch up my bag and rush into the kitchen. I crouch down, pulling open the cupboard door and rummaging around the contents. My hand lands on the item I’m searching for, a lump forming in my stomach as I bring it out.

Just so Hudson doesn’t find it.

I try to convince myself as I shove the half empty bottle of whiskey into my bag.

All the other alcohol in the apartment had been disposed of at the demand of Arriana. She has every right to be worried after what happened, but that was an accident. It’s not like I have a problem.

No matter how much I try to convince myself of it, I still push the bottle to the bottom of the bag and hide it beneath the other items.

Pushing to my feet, I sling my bag over my shoulders and head out toward the rest of my life. My smile spread across my face a permanent fixture. With one last look over my shoulder, I pull the door closed and officially shut that chapter of my life.

Ready to ride off into the sunset with my love.

Being on the run officially sucks.

It’s much more glamorous in my stories. In reality? It’s exhausting.

Every time we see a cop, or drive through one of those traffic camera things, I can feel my heart climb into my throat at the thought they might know it’s us.

And don’t get me started on pit stops.

If I have to go inside another gas station and have a near heart attack as Arriana speaks effortlessly to the cashier like her life isn’t on the line, I don’t think I’ll make it.

Exiting one such station, I climb into the car Andrew obtained for us. The mid-size SUV sporting blacked out windows and looking like every vehicle I imagined a mafia member would own. “You know we look like drug dealers in this thing?” I gripe, slamming the door shut behind me.

Arriana chuckles, sliding into the driver’s seat and closing her door with much less force. “I’m a much cooler criminal than some drug dealer, baby.” She winks at me, throwing the car in drive and pulling out onto the road.

I roll my eyes, looking around me in search of the book I was reading. “This what you’re looking for?” Arriana hums, holding up the novel.

I reach for it, growling in frustration when she pulls it out of my reach. A sly grin spreads across her face. “Ask nicely.” She teases, only serving to further grate at my frayed nerves.

It’s been days with only the occasional sip of liquor tying me over to the next. The bottle now nearly empty and my irritability growing with each drink bringing me closer and closer to being completely without the only thing that keeps the already overwhelming anxiety at bay.

I can feel the familiar buzzing under my skin and I flex my fingers in an attempt to distract myself enough that I don’t lash out at my girlfriend for just trying to be playful.

At my silence, Arriana slowly lowers her arm, glancing over at me. Without a word, she indicates off the road and pulls into an empty parking lot. A heavy silence falls in the vehicle as we idle in place.

“You need to talk to me.”

I startle at the quiet demand. Turning to face her, I clench my jaw and slowly spit out between my teeth, “Like you talk to me?”

Stop, just talk to her.

I ignore the small voice inside, opting to glower instead at my other half. She flinches, running a hand through her hair. I expect her to argue, to fight back, but am shocked when instead she murmurs, “You’re right.”

The agreement is enough to shock me out of my spiral. “I am?” I whisper.

I’ve always had to fight to have myself heard, and usually I just give in, deciding the argument isn’t worth it. Years of conditioning that what I think doesn’t matter at war within me with the realization that that’s not my life anymore. Not when the person I’m with cares about me , about what I want and what I need.

But right now, what I need, I can’t admit. Not to her. Not after everything.

Turning toward me, she nods, taking one of my hands in hers. “I’m scared.” She admits, shocking me further.

I gape at her wordlessly, unsure what to say.

Awkwardly chuckling at my silent disbelief, she shrugs. “Yeah, I’m not familiar with the emotion. I’ve only been truly afraid a handful of times in my life. But right now, I’m terrified.” Reaching a hand up, she tucks my hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. “I’m afraid I’m losing you. That you fell in love with the idea of me, but now that you’re having to see the reality that…that you regret your decision.”

I gulp, shifting my gaze away from her face. I still haven’t asked what really happened, but I’ve pieced together by the little road trip we’re on that it couldn’t have been good.

Would I regret it? If I found out the truth and it’s worse than I think, would I want to run away?

Something settles inside me as I realize the answer. Some of the unnerving buzz fading into the background.

Covering her hand on my cheek with my own, I wait for her to meet my gaze before speaking. “There’s nothing you could have done that would make me feel any less in love with you. Do I regret coming on this trip? Kinda.” I shrug, but quickly continue when her face falls. “But do I regret coming on it with you ? Hell no.”

She smiles softly, stroking her thumb along my cheek. “What is it then, baby? What’s wrong? And please don’t lie to me.”

I gulp, shifting in my seat. “Well, besides the cramped car for thirteen hours a day, and the, you know, hiding from the law ? Oh, and the surviving off of chips, gross gas station corn dogs and sandwiches, and whatever other snacks we can get. Yeah, just peachy. I don’t even know where we’re going, Arriana.” My rushed words flow out before I can stop them, my tone getting sharper with each sentence. “I’m not built for this life. I’m the ‘stay inside and read a book with a nice cup of coffee’ type girl. I live my adventures through fiction. I’m…I’m really tired.” My shoulders slump, silence following my little outburst.

A quiet laugh has me whipping my head up.

Arriana holds up her hands in surrender, trying to hold back her laughter. “I know you’re not made for this, mi vida . And that’s part of why I love you.” Grabbing the book from her lap, she holds it out as an offering. “I promise where we’re going you’ll be able to spend all day every day with your nose in a book. There won’t be anymore looking over our shoulders, only endless days of relaxation and me worshiping you as you deserve.”

I tentatively take the offered book, shifting in my seat to get comfortable, my cheeks flaming as I think of just what she means by worshiping me .

“Okay.” I mumble, letting the frustration go and opening to where I left off. “Where are we going anyway?” I mindlessly ask, not expecting an answer. I peek at Arriana out of the corner of my eye, finding her watching me with an unreadable expression before a small grin pulls up the corner of her lips.

“Mexico.”

I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my chest at the most obvious answer. “And here I thought you were original.” I chuckle, turning the page.

My face is jerked to the side by Arriana’s sudden grip on my chin. I gape at her, my thighs tightening in response as heat pools between them.

Her grin is unnerving, a gleam in her eyes that has a shiver running through my body. “Careful, baby. Or I’ll show you just how original I can be.” My eyes dart toward movement, watching her tongue slide along her lower lip. Releasing her hold on me, she turns back toward the road, shifting into gear. “Enjoy your book.” The humor in her tone a direct contrast to whatever I just witnessed.

Trying to ignore the desire to find out just what she meant, I return to the story, reading the words without reading them. My mind instead imaging all the creative ways she could show me her originality. And, for the first time in a while, I feel excitement again.

Mexico here we come.