Shattered (Koa #5)

2. Lila

Chapter 2

Lila

W hen Ian and I bought this house, the first thing I did was paint sunflowers in the kitchen. Before we were even unpacked, I was on a ladder. This house was the first space that was mine, and sunflowers were always my favorite. At first, Ian agreed to put the sunflowers in the kitchen. Once he saw how much I loved them, he let me paint them almost everywhere. He smiled so much watching me.

Since he left, the sunflowers don’t glow as much as they used to.

I’m making my morning coffee when Ian appears in my back door window, greeting me with a half smile. I’m still in my pajamas, a loose T-shirt, and baggy pants, but at least I brushed my hair for the first time in a few days. My ex-husband, in contrast, is impeccably groomed as always, with a clean shave, neat hair, and pearly white teeth .

He lets himself in, shutting the door behind him cordially. “Hey, sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” I say.

It’s not fine. He hasn’t set foot on this property since he left. We’ve seen each other, of course, but it’s like the house is a boundary he doesn’t cross anymore, which I’ve been grateful for.

Plus, I’m tired. I went to bed around one and was kept up for another hour because the dickheads who moved in next door were blasting music. That ugly old house is the only one near mine on a sparse road, so the noise wouldn’t have bothered anyone else. By the time two o’clock rolled around, I was getting ready to call the police, meaning my close cop friend Edgar, to come and sort the assholes out, but they thankfully shut it down. Whoever they are, they’ve already made horrible first impressions as neighbors.

“Coffee?” I offer.

He considers it for a moment too long before nodding. “Sure.”

I pour a mug three-quarters of the way up and go for the sugar next, freezing in the process. I cock my head to the side, raising a brow, trying to rack my brain, but it’s not there.

“I can’t remember how you like your coffee.” He usually drank tea with milk. He had coffee a few times per week, and I often made it for him, but I can’t remember how.

“Lots of cream and sugar,” he says gently.

Right. He drowns his tea in milk; he whitens his coffee. Even his alcohol he didn’t like strong.

The opposite of how he likes his women, apparently.

Ian and I were married for four years. We explored BDSM early on in our marriage, and I fell into the role of the submissive. Ian tried to dominate me, but he was too soft to degrade me or treat me like a whore like I wanted him to. After we made some new friends at a kink club called Koa in our friend Turner’s basement, I suggested an open marriage so we could explore our kinks further. He allowed me to do that but always refused to do it himself. When I broke down and suggested he sleep with his new employee, Allegra, to try to become more dominant, he finally agreed. They started by switching roles, with Allegra as the domme and Ian as the sub, and that was where they thrived. When Ian told me the truth, that he’s a submissive, I let him go. I knew he was falling in love with Allegra and that even though he still loved me, it wouldn’t be enough. What I need sexually, Ian can’t give me.

It’s been about a year, and things have been okay between Ian, Allegra, and me. But they also know I am not okay, just like everyone else. Anyone with two eyes and a pulse can tell. I’m in misery. They all assume I’m still heartbroken, and I try to shut that down whenever possible. I’m not heartbroken anymore.

I’m just lost and alone.

I bring his coffee, and he takes it, thanking me. Then I return with my own and sit at the table across from him. These were our usual seats way back when. Unless friends are over, I sit at this table alone.

“How are you?” he asks.

I shrug. “Fine. How are you?”

He pauses. Something’s up.

“Spit it out before I start to panic,” I say.

“Everything’s fine,” he starts before sighing and averting his gaze. “I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it. But you need to know. ”

“You’re pregnant?” I ask emotionlessly.

His brows pinch together. “Allegra’s not pregnant...”

When he doesn’t continue, I sigh. “Ian, I’m exhausted. Just spit it out.”

He takes a deep breath before finally coming out with it. “I’ve asked Allegra to marry me.”

My eyes widen in response. “Holy shit, you two aren’t wasting any time.”

He smirks. “Well, neither did we.”

“No, you’re right,” I admit.

We married after only a year, though he wasn’t transitioning from another relationship when he met me. I’m just... Angry.

But I’m not angry at Ian. I know how he loves. He falls hard and fast and gives everything, and Allegra does the same. Ian’s a good man, a proper gentleman in every sense. He’s even having this conversation with me now, so I force a smile.

“I’m happy for you.”

He sees right through me, but he’s got it all wrong.

“Thanks. We’re announcing it tonight at Koa. If you don’t want to be around for the announcement, I can let you know before it happens.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He’s not offended. Instead he offers a soft smile, and I force my own, wishing I didn’t have to. Wishing the prospect of him and Allegra getting married didn’t scare the hell out of me.

Shortly after Ian leaves for work, I hear some crashing on my back deck as I pull my scrub top over my head. I rush down to the back door in the kitchen, instantly relaxing when I spot a curtain of long red hair through the window. I roll my eyes as I open the door and step out onto the deck in my sock feet. It’s just after eight, and the sun is already beating down, warming my cheeks.

Juliet has hauled an enormous weighted punching bag up three steps and onto my back deck, and I have no idea how she did it. She’s tall and fit, sure, but she would not be the one I’d call if I needed heavy lifting done, that’s for sure.

She positions it in the center of my deck before straightening her back and letting out a sigh, her perky eyes meeting mine as she finally notices her audience.

“Morning,” she says in a singsong voice. The woman is thirty-four, five years older than me, but she acts like a teenager sometimes. She wakes up with boundless energy, which is exhausting when I need at least two cups of coffee before I’m a human being.

I try to formulate the question and don’t know what I’m asking. Instead, I settle on a confused arm gesture and a “what?”

“Ian told me you might need something to punch this morning, so I swiped this from Gareth.”

I sigh in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” Juliet drops into one of my deck chairs, making herself at home. “So, what is it? Is she knocked up? I wouldn’t be surprised, the woman’s fertile fucking Myrtle.”

She’s not wrong. Allegra’s already been pregnant twice. “She’s not pregnant.”

“So they’re getting married,” Juliet says, noting the obvious next guess.

It’s not my secret to tell, but the look on my face must give her the answer as her brows lift.

“Just don’t say anything. They’re making the announcement tonight.”

She doesn’t react; instead, her eyes narrow on me with concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say simply.

“You should call in sick, and we’ll spend the day together.”

I shoot her a glare. “You know I can’t do that.” I’ve called in sick four times in the last two months. If I do it again, Dr. Parr is going to be pissed.

“I could eat you out before you go.”

“What?” I balk.

“Oral. Fellatio. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Because I can, on your clit.”

“What a charming and generous offer,” I mumble.

“You enjoyed it at the lake, in front of everyone.”

I roll my eyes. “That was a show for the guys.”

“Macy thought it was hot too, she told me.”

“Juliet... What is this about?” I sigh.

Finally, she spits it out. “Turner may have wanted me to check in on you, too.”

My blood boils as I bounce to my feet. “Can anyone just ask me a direct fucking question!?”

She winces. “To be fair, you’ve been a little explosive lately. They just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ”

Juliet has been my friend for ages, but I wouldn’t exactly call her the sensitive one. “And they sent you?”

“No, they asked Macy, but I was right there both times, and I guess I beat her to the punch.”

“That makes a lot more sense.”

Hurt flashes in her eyes, and I regret my words. I shouldn’t have said that.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” she snaps, jumping back to her feet and heading towards her car.

“I’m sorry, Juliet,” I yell.

She stops, turning on her heels to shoot me an irritated look. “This is why Turner and Ian wanted me to check on you. I brought you a punching bag so you’d stop using people instead.”

She doesn’t give me time to apologize before she climbs into her car and takes off.

I consider avoiding the party altogether. Juliet’s pissed at me, and part of me doesn’t want to be there for the announcement. But if I’m not there, it’ll only feed more into everyone’s assumption that I’m heartbroken. So, despite how badly I’d rather cuddle up on my sofa alone with popcorn and some movies, I throw together a charcuterie board with what I have on hand, put myself together, and head over.

Turner lives on a large property in a beautiful house. I drive my car down the long driveway to the back of the house, where a parking area is packed with cars. Some loud chatter confirms that everyone is in the courtyard. All members of Koa have entry codes to Turner’s back door, so I use mine to head inside. Past the entryway, I see Juliet and Turner in the kitchen. Juliet immediately averts her eyes and leaves through the door to the courtyard, which makes me feel like shit.

I step into the kitchen, feeling Turner’s eyes on me the whole time as I set my platter on the table, adding to the monstrous spread of food.

“Can we talk before you go out?” Turner asks.

I sigh, finally meeting his gaze. He’s riddled with concern, and I don’t want to deal with it, but he won’t let me avoid it. “I guess.”

“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. You don’t seem like yourself these days.”

“And what, you couldn’t find anyone else to check on me?”

His expression sours with the beginnings of anger. “Don’t be angry with Juliet. She’s concerned. We all are.”

“Well, you don’t need to be, I’m fine. And I’d appreciate it if you all stopped talking about me behind my back.”

I try to push past him to get to the door to the courtyard, and he stonewalls me, blocking my path.

“Why don’t we go downstairs? You haven’t been to Koa in a while, have you?” he asks, gentler this time.

“No thanks.” When I try to push past him again, he still doesn’t stand aside to let me pass. “Turner…”

“When’s the last time you had sex?”

I steel. “Why is that your business?”

“Because you used to come to me at least three times a week, and you seem to have completely lost interest. You used to be a sex machine.”

Why is that my title? “People can change, you know. ”

He softens. “I get that. But I don’t think that’s what this is. I think you’re depressed.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Lila, watch your mouth!” he growls. “I’m not here to give you hell. I want to help you.”

I glance out the door, seeing my friends are all out there. They’re laughing, having a great time.

“Y’know what, tell everyone I said hi. I’m not feeling good.”

“Lila!”

I turn on my heels and head for the back door, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. “I don’t wanna be here right now,” I growl, slamming the door behind me.

It’s after ten when my phone rings, and I accept the call and lift it to my ear.

“Hey.”

“Hey, want some company?” Macy asks softly.

“Sure. Key’s under the mat, I’m in bed.”

“With clothes on, I hope.”

I chuckle. “Get up here.”

A few minutes later, I hear her truck pull into my driveway. I listen through the open window beside me that faces my driveway and the house next door as she enters, kicks off her shoes, and softly treads up the stairs. My cracked door springs open a moment later, and she slips inside, her curly blonde hair taking up half her small frame. Wordlessly, she crosses the room and gets under the covers with me, staring up at the ceiling to match me.

“Ian must’ve told you ahead of time,” she says.

I turn towards her, and she matches me as our eyes meet, and I nod.

“You haven’t said much about this whole situation from the beginning, you know,” Macy says gently.

She’s right. I have kept my mouth shut about the whole Ian/Allegra situation. I’m still friends with both of them, aren’t I? I care about them both.

“What’s there to say? I let him go.”

She reaches out to take my hand, something she always does, and squeezes it.

“I hate this house,” I say, letting a couple of bitter tears spill.

Her brows knit together in surprise.

“It was never my house; it was our house. Being alone in here… It’s so fucking loud it’s deafening. Yes, I’m over him. Yes, I’ve let him go. But now it’s just me in this big stupid house, and everyone around me is in love.”

Macy winces as she realizes exactly what I mean.

“It’s not like you’re all throwing it in my face or anything.” Allegra and Ian repel like two magnets whenever they see me looking. “I’m just… Lonely for something that no one here can give me.”

“Love?” Macy asks softly.

I nod, my tone growing more playful as I try to pull myself together. “And mind-blowing sex.”

She chuckles. “You’re saying no one here has given you mind-blowing sex? ”

“Do you want me to tell you about your husband?” I joke.

Her mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening.

“Macy, I’m joking. Turner’s probably the best. But we don’t fit together that way. Plus, I couldn’t do that to Juliet.”

“Does she have feelings for Turner?” Macy asks in surprise.

“I think she does, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Why not?”

“Turner doesn’t do relationships.”

Macy frowns. “I hope that’s not true forever. He needs love just like anyone else.”

Just like me...

“Are you missing the party?” I ask.

“No. I was leaving anyway. It was getting pretty loud, way more than usual. Chaos still gives me anxiety.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Macy has gone through more devastation than anyone I’ve ever known. We met when she moved to Alton about a year and a half ago. Before she came to us, Macy had been held hostage, raped, and brutally tortured by her stepbrother Colin for days. He shot her in the back and left her to die, but Macy managed to survive and escape. We knew something was up when we met her, but no one could imagine. Eventually, Colin came back for her, abducting her from Gareth’s house while he was at work. We all came together to find her. Gareth got shot during her rescue, but he survived, and Macy got away with some broken fingers and minor injuries.

The story of what happened to her was her darkest secret, and it all came to light during her rescue. After she came home, she needed time to open up. It was hard to listen to, and it made me physically sick. Neela and Allegra hadn’t moved to town yet, so it was just Juliet and me, and Juliet works away often. Macy and I bonded during that time. She needed me to be strong, and I was there for her when she needed me.

“Do you wanna talk?”

She pauses, her shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath. Eventually, she brings herself back down.

“Sometimes, I close my eyes and still feel him behind me. I can hear him threatening Gareth...”

Her eyes tear up, a deep sadness clawing its way out.

“I had a nightmare last night, the first one in a long time.”

“What was it about?”

Her lip quivers. “A play-by-play of him threatening Gareth.”

I remember every detail she told me about that story, and it gives me chills to think about it. Colin came for Macy while she was alone at Gareth’s house. She fought him off and got to safety, but Colin had her phone and threatened to text Gareth and set a trap to shoot him. Macy asked him to take her and spare Gareth, and he was true to his word. He took her away and left Gareth.

“How hard was it? To open that bathroom door?” I ask.

“The hardest part... But I couldn’t fight him; I never would’ve won. It was hard to wait for just the right moment.”

She’s said those exact words before, and they haunt me every time. To be so terrified, and in so much pain, and to be forced to endure it, knowing there’s no hope of escape... To have to wait for just the right moment...

I don’t know what fucking clock my asshat neighbors are going by, but naturally, I wake up to Macy grabbing my arm as an obnoxious rock song comes blaring through the window, sending us both flying straight up in bed. Once my heart beats again, confirming it didn’t stop, I glance past Macy, who’s stiff as a board and wide-eyed. The clock on my bedside table reads almost one.

“These motherfuckers kept me up last night, and now they’re even louder!”

Furiously, I throw the blankets off me, crawling out of bed to step up to the French window. It’s large and overlooks the house next door and both driveways.

And finally, I see one of my neighbors.

He’s outside, camped out on their back deck in a lounge chair, and I have a clear view of him from the deck lights. He’s slumped in his seat with his feet up and a beer in his hand. He adjusts a large speaker sitting beside him. The guy is large in frame, clean-shaven, with sharp facial features, red hair, and fully tattooed arms. I watch him shout something towards the door, though I can’t hear what he says. Then, the second man steps onto the deck, stopping just outside the door with a beer in his hand, taking my breath away.

Jesus christ…

He’s also tall and built, with a colossal chest and thick tattooed arms. His dark crew cut matches his thick, downturned black brows. He has a huge cut on his cheek, and his eyes are dark and piercing as they move over the deck, taking in the scene of his friend and his sound system. I’ve never met a guy who screams danger as much as this one, even when compared to Turner and Gareth.

And then, he moves .

With my bird’s eye view, I can spot his limp. He favors his right leg, and I see the side of his wince as he steps, walking around his friend and shielding him from seeing, which seems odd to me. They’re either roommates or partners, so why is he hiding a limp from him?

When I don’t move, Macy hurries out of bed and joins me at the window, peeking out beside me, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

“Please keep your doors locked…” she says.

I know why she says that, because she’s broken, and everyone in the world is a threat to her. But I’m not broken. “They don’t scare me.”

“Lila, what’re you gonna do?” Macy asks nervously, grabbing me by the arm. “Lila!”

I shake off her arm, glaring at her. “I’m gonna tell them to fuck right off!”

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of!”

When I push the ajar windows wide open, Macy grabs my arm.

“Lila!”

To Macy’s horror, I don’t listen.