Estranged Heart

Twenty-eight

Elijah

Eyes blinking open, I shield my face from the sun blazing through the parted curtains in the living room. When someone wiggles against me, I glance down at the sleeping man with his face buried against my chest and leg looped around mine. Smiling, I trace the sleep lines on his cheek, loving the cute little snoring sounds coming from him.

Rubbing the coarse hair of his scruff against my chest, he yawns and lifts his head back enough to rub one of his eyes with a closed fist.

“Morning,” I say, brushing back a small amount of hair falling in his face.

“Morning.” He peers up at me, lips stretched in a grin. “I see we never got to that movie.”

A laugh rushes out of me and I press a kiss to his temple. It’s too hard not to want my lips on him all the time, to go without touching him for too long, even when it’s just to wipe sleep dust from the corner of his eye or to slide the blanket lower down his hip.

“No. I guess we didn’t. Clearly we were more tired than we thought.”

“Amongst other things,” he says, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah.” I chuckle, running my fingers up and down his hip bone. “There’ll be other days.”

“Like tonight?” His breaths are shallow, blue eyes harboring mine.

“Like tonight. I don’t have much going on, so watching movies with you all day sounds good to me.”

“Movies and more of this.” His lips lightly sweep over mine and his tongue darts into my mouth.

I kiss him back, being less gentle, and roll my hips forward. Our hardening cocks rock together and we both let out garbled moans, tongues lashing against each other.

“Yeah, definitely more this.” I lick inside his mouth. “And some of this.” I slip a finger between his cheeks, rubbing over his slick hole wet from my cum.

“Mmm.” His lips vibrate against mine and his body waves the way water does when a disturbance causes a rift.

“I could wake up like this every day.” His eyes blink up at me, glossing over.

“You mean on a small uncomfortable couch being smashed by half my body weight?”

He snorts and lets out a sigh, shifting against me. “Yeah. I’m really okay with being smashed by you in the morning.”

I kiss the corner of his smirk. “Now I’m not so sure we’re talking about the same kind of smashing.”

“I’ll take it either way.”

My lips find his again, our tongues turning into a tangled frenzy. We stay here for what feels like hours, kissing, touching, and teasing each other, until we both get interrupted by Silas’s stomach.

“I should go get us some breakfast. I would cook, but I need to go drive by the restaurant real quick anyway.”

“Where are you going? Mabel’s Bakery perhaps?” He lifts a brow.

“If that’s what you want.”

He taps his chin, humming softly, and then nods. “Yeah, I’ll take one of everything. Please and thank you “

I huff out a laugh. “How about one of five things, and I surprise you?”

“One of eight and you got a deal.”

“Fine, but only because I’m too hungry to keep negotiating with you.” I press a quick kiss to his nose and then cheek, needing to pull away before I end up too deep under the covers with him again.

“Try not to take too long,” he says, tucking the blanket under his chin, looking completely disheveled with bruised lips and heavy lids. So damn beautiful.

“I’ll try, but I am being sent out with a long list.” I pull on my pants and tug on my shirt while he remains unmoving on the couch, looking at me with his lips stretched into a smirk.

“Oh, and bring me back a large chai with two pumps of lavender from the coffee shop across the way.”

“Anything else I’m supposed to do at super-fast speed?”

“Kiss me one last time.” He props his face on a closed fist and I bend down, capturing his lips with mine before pulling away to slip on my shoes.

“I’ll be back soon. Try not to snoop through my stuff while I’m gone.”

“I’ll only nose around your living room like you did mine,” he teases, sitting up straighter.

“As long as that’s all.” I shoot him a wink as I grab my keys on my way to the door. I tell him bye one last time, resisting the urge to kiss those irresistible lips again, and hurry out the door to my car.

There’s a small breeze sweeping over me when I reach the bakery and exit the car. Fall is right around the corner, and I’m ready for it to be closer to the time for Silas to crochet me one of his uneven sweaters. Laughing to myself, I walk through the double doors and stand in the short line.

After I choose eight different pastries, I pay and drive on over to the coffee shop. I’m in and out of the drive-through within fifteen minutes with two drinks sitting in my cup holders. Not many people are out this morning, more than likely sleeping in and having a lazy Saturday. Something I can’t wait to do with Silas when I return to the house.

Fuck, he looked so damn good on that couch, and I can’t stop thinking about the way he was stripping on my front porch last night. Those pretty nipples were tempting me to bite them right there for the whole damn world to see. I forget where I am with him sometimes, losing myself in the spellbinding moments we create together.

Too focused on how much better his moans sounded while he was in my house versus on the phone, I nearly miss my exit. I really did like having him on my couch and waking up to his warm body snuggled closely to mine. The guilt was still there a little bit, but I’m also relieved to know that none of this means I loved Landon any less. Because I don’t.

As I’m pulling up to the restaurant, I see a car driving to the back. I don’t pay it any mind until I’m heading back to my car and it’s still there. Sitting in my car, I watch as a man gets out and lights a cigarette. I can’t see his face because he’s turned toward the back door. Probably someone’s ride or something. I’m about to drive away when Stacey walks out yelling something at the stranger, her face straining.

My interest is piqued again and I roll down the window to make sure she doesn’t need help. My hand freezes on the door when the man faces my way, my heart stopping the longer I stare at him.

Hank . The man with the boat. Why is he here and how does he know Stacey? Does he know her? An ugly sensation curls into my stomach and I step out of my car. I’m about to approach them when Stacey acknowledges his presence, storming toward him, and I hide behind a large pillar.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Stacey scolds him. “Didn’t I tell you to meet me at the funeral home?”

My heart gallops in my chest and the skin on the back of my neck prickles as I continue to listen.

“You were taking too long. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” Hank flicks ash her way.

Hands on her hips, she clenches her jaw, looking around, and I press the back of my head to the pillar, not wanting them to know I’m here.

“I told you I had to do something first. Remember the man I paid? The one who recommended your services to Landon? Well . . . he wasn’t supposed to keep coming back to dine here, but he came in today asking where Landon was. I guess he didn’t hear the news.”

“And? You think he’ll talk to the cops? It’s not like what really happened went public. Dan promised us he’d make sure it wouldn’t. To make it all look like it was out of respect for the family and to not jeopardize the case.”

Dan? Who’s this Dan? The head of the operation? I know this isn’t a coincidence. Stacey is the reason they chose my husband out of everyone else. She led them to him. Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down, pressing my body tighter to the wall.

“Who knows if we can even trust that asshole,” Stacey shouts, raising her hands above her head. She’s angry, when the only one out here who should be raging is me. I ball my fists, digging my heels into the ground.

“Who’s to say you can be trusted? Remember that job you half assed the other day? Well, I took the rap for it.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this out here.” She glances around again and he gestures to her to get into the car. As soon as she does, he puts out his cigarette and joins her, firing up the engine.

I feel sick. A wave of nausea washes over me and I’m trying to figure out how to process everything I heard. They work together. She paid a customer to recommend Hank to Landon. Silas . . . he . . . No. It can’t be. My breaths stab at my throat with each one I take. My heart feels like it’s about to explode in my chest and I’m hit with a dizzy spell as I get back in my car.

I don’t move for what feels like forever, my hands shaking against the wheel and my stomach feeling gut punched. When Hank hauls ass out of the parking lot, I follow behind him, careful to stay a far enough distance back that he won’t notice me. My mind is all over the place. Thoughts of Landon, of Silas’s face and memories of the past month spent with the man who may be responsible for my husband’s death.

Did he seek me out on purpose? He what . . . took my husband’s heart and then wanted his life next? I can’t make sense of any of the conclusions I come to no matter how much I try. His wife works at the same hospital where Landon saw his doctor. She had access to his files. Why would anyone do this? Sure, Landon had constantly been onto her about her bad working habits, but did that really warrant his death?

I’m seeing red the whole time I’m zooming through traffic, trying to keep up with Hank’s reckless driving. Does he know he’s being followed? He should consider it happening at this point. The man was so damn fidgety, with fear dancing in his eyes when I last encountered him at the lake.

His car slows and I shift lanes, swerving behind someone else, paying attention to the parking lot he turns into. A funeral home. The one Stacey mentioned meeting him at before. What do they do there? Is that where they took my husband to be butchered before they used him as spare parts? Fuck these people. Fuck Stacey and fuck the man lying on my couch, whoever the hell he is. Is there a chance he didn’t know? How could he not? She’s his wife and they’ve lived in the same house all this time.

Has he been lying to me all this time? Grabbing my phone, I dial the police station and get transferred to Officer Robinson when his boss doesn’t answer.

“Hello, can I help you? Anyone there?”

“I . . . uh, yeah.” I find my voice. “It’s me, Elijah Pena, Landon Pena’s husband.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Pena?”

“I saw Hank. The man who owned the boat the accident took place on. He was at my restaurant meeting up with an employee of mine, Stacey Adams.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be letting us handle this case, Mr. Pena?”

“Yes, but you also said to call if I saw Hank again or with anything else that could help the case, so that’s what I’m doing. Stacey Adams paid someone to tell my husband to call Hank when he was looking for suggestions for a romantic date on the lake. She led Landon to that boat and now her husband has his heart.”

“That’s quite the accusation you have there,” he says gruffly.

“I heard her admit it outside my restaurant.”

“And you just happened to be standing there when she gave her confession,” he says pointedly.

“She was arguing with Hank about the customer she paid showing back up and asking about Landon. She was worried about the accident being traced back to her.”

“I see. I still find it odd you were there. Were you also working with them, and now you’re selling them out before they can do the same to you?” he accuses, his tone ugly. I really don’t like this asshole.

“No. Of course not. These people killed my husband and you’re wasting time with your stupid questions. They stopped at Luke’s Funeral Home off Broader Street and who knows what they went there to do. What if they have someone else?”

He sighs loudly, sounding bored. “Alright, alright. I’ll send someone to check it out. But for now, go home and wait for us to call you. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, I will, but I really need someone to go there now in case another life is in danger. They were up to something. Talking about jobs being half assed and him taking the rap for it.”

“And we’ll check it out. I’m sending a car now and I’ll also go there myself. Don’t worry, Mr. Pena. Whatever’s happening at the funeral home we’ll get to the bottom of it, but we do need you to stay out of the way while we do.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good,” he says curtly. “I’ll be in touch again as soon as we talk to both parties.” The line clicks before I can respond again, and I toss my phone on the passenger seat, cursing under my breath.

When I reach the house, I storm through the door, not sure how to approach Silas at first. I want to believe he’s innocent in all this but what if he’s not? What if I ask him about it and he lies to me? It’s not like I’ve known him for very long. For all I know, he’s been pretending to be someone he isn’t this whole time to throw me off. Either way, Landon had to die so he could live. He didn’t only pull me from a dark place, he was the reason I landed there to begin with.

Taking deep breaths, I urge myself to calm down. To remain level-headed. It isn’t until I walk into the kitchen and see him wearing Landon’s robe that anger burns hotter through my veins.

“There you are. I was starting to think you got lost somewhere.” He strolls my way, smiling softly, and I grit my teeth.

“Who said you could wear that?”

His brow rises and he looks down at his body, tugging on one of the ties. “Oh, I left my stuff in your car and got cold. I thought it was yours.” He swallows hard, his face paling. “Is it . . . Oh Elijah, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” He tugs at the front of the robe. “I should have asked first. I’ll take it off.” His eyes are sincere as he shrugs off the robe, his hands shaking.

“Did you know?” I jump straight to the number one question hammering at the front of my mind.

“I . . . huh? I told you I thought it was yours and—”

“Not about the damn robe. Did you know that your wife had my husband killed?”

“What?” His face contorts. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you know it’s his heart in your chest?”

He grabs at his throat, his features strained. “I . . . I considered he might have been a donor and after the accident—”

My hand makes a loud thumping sound when it crashes against the countertop. “There was no accident. He was kidnapped and murdered by organ traffickers. Your wife works for them. What even was this to you? Why did you keep showing up everywhere I was? Were you purposely stalking me to see what I knew?”

“Elijah, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Was this some game? Were you hoping to find out what a horrible husband Landon was so you could feel better about yourself?” I was going off the rails and could no longer stay on one track, jumping from one to the next.

“Stacey would never do something like that, and I don’t even know if it’s Landon’s heart I have. It could be someone else’s for all we know.” His voice croaks.

“And you know your wife so well, right?” I feel like I’m cracking on the inside and I can’t stop the words from rushing past my lips. “Why else do you think you like the same things he does? Why do you think we connected so quickly? I’m not sure anything between us was ever real.”

“Of course it’s real.” He reaches for my hand and I slap him away. “Please. Let’s just sit and talk about all this. Did something happen at the restaurant? Did you run into Stacey?”

“She admitted to wanting Landon to get on that boat that night. She got into a car with the man who blew it up and nearly killed me.”

“She told you all this?” His eyes lock on mine, unblinking.

“I overheard them speaking behind one of the restaurants.” I take a sharp breath, holding it for so long I think I’m about to pass out when I finally let it out. “She works at the hospital my husband was going to and accessed his information. She must have seen he was a match and set the whole thing up.” It’s still hard to believe the words as they come out of my mouth. Landon hired this woman and kept her on, giving her chance after damn chance. How could she have done this? How could anyone?

Holding a hand up, he takes a breath and rubs his temple. “Wait. When? Where? There has to be some misunderstanding.”

“I know what I heard and saw. Your wife is a murderer. Are you one too, Silas? Are you here to distract me from seeing the truth?” I hope not. Please don’t let him be a part of this. Does it matter if he is or not? It’ll be hard to come back from this either way, but at least I’ll be sure he’s not a monster too, and that maybe . . . maybe some of this was real. That something good actually came out of this mess whether it lasts or not.

“No.” His frown deepens. “If this is true, I knew nothing of it. I swear I didn’t. I’d never . . . Oh God . . .” He squeezes his chest, gripping the counter, and his eyes point down to the ground. “I don’t feel so well.”

I move forward when his eyes roll into the back of his head and he drops toward the ground, catching him in my arms. I carry him to the couch, laying out his body, and shake his shoulder lightly. “Silas? What’s happening?”

He gasps for air, reaching for me, and I wrap my fingers around his cold hand. He starts spasming and his eyes shut again. Panic rises inside me and I call an ambulance, staying on the line with the dispatcher and doing everything she says. A numbness comes over me and I feel as if time is never ending as I wait for the sirens to sound outside my house.

They’ll call Stacey if she’s listed as his emergency contact and she’ll be at the hospital. I don’t know what I’ll do if I see her but I can’t let Silas ride there alone. I’m confused and want to hate him but I can’t. What if he really is telling me the truth? His eyes pleaded their innocence and squeezed at my heart.

When the ambulance arrives, they lift him on the stretcher and cover his face with a mask. I follow them in my own car since I’m not family, and they don’t let me past the waiting room when I arrive at the hospital. Pacing in circles, the room grows smaller around me and my stomach twists in knots as I wait for a nurse to come out to speak with me.

“Are you Elijah?”

“Yeah,” I blurt, not sounding myself.

“He’s awake and asking for you. I’ll take you up to his room.”

I nod and follow her down a long hallway, counting squares until her steps come to a halt in front of a room. “He’s right in here. He’s stable but very weak and exhausted.”

“He’ll be okay?” My voice comes out slightly above a whisper.

“He will. Any longer without his medication and we might have been having a different conversation.”

“He wasn’t taking his meds?” How does that make sense when I saw him pack them and chase them down with water more than once? I scratch the back of my head, peeking into the room when she cracks the door open.

“It doesn’t appear that way based on how fast his body is rejecting the heart.”

We enter the room and Silas is lying still on the bed, groggy and slowly moving from side to side.

“I’ll leave you two alone now.” She smiles softly and exits the room, closing the door behind her.

“Silas?” I inch closer to the bed, my heart sinking when I take note of all the wires connected to his body. He looks up at me with hazy eyes and flushed skin.

“I . . . What happened?”

“You passed out and had a seizure. They said your body was rejecting the heart.”

“Was it all a dream?” His voice sounds weak, and an ache stretches down the center of my body making it hard to move. I want to be closer to him but I also can’t be. I’m being pulled in so many directions and it doesn’t matter which one I go in. Either way I’m suffocating and reaching for relief. Where is it when I need it? I once found it in him but things are different now. Aren’t they? I look at him and see Landon’s lifeless eyes. Yes, they’re different, but the man I need to make all this anger go away is also the reason behind it all.

“What?” I finally answer, leaning against the frame at the end of his bed.

“Stacey being involved in Landon’s murder. Me having his heart. You not really wanting me and us not being real?” His face falls more, his eyes sunken in.

“I . . .” I look away from him because it’s too fucking hard. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now.”

He squeezes his eyes tight and a tear drops down his cheek. “I don’t either.”

“I’m going to head home. I wanted to make sure you were okay before I did. They’ll get you back on your meds and hopefully you’ll be out of here soon and we can figure it all out then.”

His hand grazes mine as I walk past him. “Don’t go. Please.”

My chest pains, and with my throat clogging up I say, “I have to. I can’t think clearly while I’m here and you need your rest.”

“Will you come back?”

“I don’t know.” I look away from him. “It might be a good idea not to see each other for a while. You know, with all this new information coming to light. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with the case, and they may consider some foul play if they know we’ve been seeing each other.”

“Elijah, I didn’t plan to ever meet you. It just happened. Maybe because of Landon but I stayed because of you. Because I wanted you. I still want you. Not just my heart but all of me. I can feel it in my entire being when I look at you.”

“I have to go now. I’m sorry.” Being here is too hard. I keep thinking about how Landon died so he could live. So we would meet and fall in love. How fucking twisted is all of this? I’ve somehow wound up smack in the center of the universe’s idea of a sick joke.

There’s a deep ache seeping into my bones, weighing me down as I drag my heavy feet out of the room. A sense of loss follows me as I walk down the long hall and push my way through the hospital doors. I don’t remember the walk to my car. One minute I was breathing in a rush of the outside warm air and the next I’m pressed against my seat. The small space suddenly feels too big as I slump back, shrinking as the world grows around me, swallowing me whole.

A small voice yells at me to go back and stay with him. To hold his hand and watch that light I’ve grown to love so much shine in his eyes. To caress his smile enough so I could feel it again, if only for a short while. My anger wins, though, a roaring fire in my blood spilling out of my fingertips, and I’d hate to burn him more than I already have. My hurt and anguish wrap around me like a current, shoving me in a direction far away from him and everyone else.

Hands squeezing on the wheel, I blink away the slow-moving tears and drive away, fighting hard not to look back. I’m making the right move. This I know for certain. Why does it feel so wrong? How can I still want him so damn much? Go back, my heart screams. To who exactly? To him, or Landon’s heart? Has it only been the organ beating in his chest that kept bringing me back to him? What would we be if he never had Landon’s heart? Strangers?

Everything is spinning and doesn’t stop when I pull up in my garage.

Silas had to have known. Who keeps a secret this big from their spouse without it ever slipping through the cracks? All her late nights working, and mornings she didn’t make it home. He looked me right in the face, acting as if he had no idea where she was and I believed him.

I think I still do. That other voice is reaching up and tugging at my heart, wanting to be heard.

“What if he really didn’t know?” I say to myself, exiting the car. “What if this time, you’re the reason for losing everything again?”

But was this everything? Was he? Those kisses in the rain yesterday felt like it. So did the way we spun each other around and held hands on the skating rink. The way he curled into me on the couch and chanted my name as we both came undone against each other.

The silence of my house echoes around me as I enter the garage door, and as I’m stepping into the kitchen, the broken glass on the floor catches my attention. I freeze, staring at the broken back door, my gaze shifting to the large kitchen knives on the counter as I hear a shuffling noise.

Someone’s in my house. Heart jumping into my throat, I look around frantically and grab one of the knives. “Who’s here?” I call out, backing out of the kitchen and opening the door to the garage again.

No answer comes and I quicken my steps. As I’m turning around to face my car, a man is waiting for me at the back end of it wearing an evil grin. “He said you’d come home eventually. He was right. You should have stayed at the hospital. And why were you there to begin with? Visiting your boyfriend?”

“Who are you and what do you want?” I hold the knife higher and he laughs, flashing the gun on his hip.

“You were told to back off and didn’t listen. Given way too many chances if you ask me. If it were up to me, I would have taken care of you a long time ago. Right after you survived that boat crash.” He places his hand on the gun holster and I shove the pointed end of the knife at his throat.

“Don’t you dare.”

He backs up and I rush forward, drawing blood.

His face hardens. “You were never supposed to live, you know? For a while, it worked in our favor. It still might, now that you’re fucking the man who paid to have your husband’s heart. How do you think that would look?”

“Fuck you.”

“No. Fuck you.” A gun clicks behind me and I drop the knife. That voice. It shakes me to my very core, and when I turn around with my hands in the air, an angry Stacey slams the end of the gun to my forehead. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I was supposed to have my husband back. Then you came and took him away from me again.”

“What did you do? Why?”

“Why not?” She breathes out a laugh. “He was dying anyway. Why let a good heart go to waste when it didn’t have to?”

“That wasn’t your fucking choice to make,” I roar, veins bulging through my skin.

“It sure felt like it. He thought he was better than me and made sure I knew it. Kind of hard to feel that way now when you’re buried six feet under the ground.”

“You took an innocent person’s life. You’re a fucking monster.”

“What did you tell Silas?” Her face stills.

“Everything he deserves to know. That his wife is a killer.”

“You have no proof, and you’ll never get any either. You’ll disappear and so will this whole investigation. Silas and I will get another chance to mend what you broke . . .”

“You’re delusional,” I spit. “You’re the one who broke your relationship. You alone. You thought a new heart would fix everything, but the issues in your marriage went beyond Silas being sick.”

“Shut up.” She waves the gun around, reaching for the back of her neck. “I’m done hearing you talk. You know nothing about me and my marriage. Nothing.”

“Put a bullet in his head already and let’s be done with it,” the guy behind me says.

“No,” she says, steadying her hand. “Death is too easy. I want him to experience what his husband went through but fully alert and oriented. I want him to feel us cutting his body to pieces until the very fucking end.”

This woman has completely lost her mind. They say love will make you crazy but that’s not what this is. No, this is anger and jealousy. This is too vile to come from a good place, and that’s what love is. She thought she had it with Silas but their whole relationship was based on control and manipulation. “You think you can keep getting away with this? Silas knows what you did. The cops know. It’s too late for you.”

“Silas isn’t fully oriented and he’s on a lot of pain meds. He doesn’t know what’s real right now and it won’t be the first time I make him see things my way over everyone else’s.” Her eyes are wild and she smirks. “And as for the cop . . . well . . . let’s just say he won’t be a problem either. Time for you to go to sleep now.”

A needle presses to my skin and I shove back my elbow, hitting the man behind me in the face. He drops the needle, and I move my head before Stacey slams her finger on the trigger, shooting her friend in the head instead of me.

“Fuck.” Her eyes widen, and as she aims the gun at me again, I bulldoze her in the stomach. The gun crashes to the ground and she curls in on herself, slowly reaching for it. I get to my feet and the heel of my shoe slams against her fingers.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Bending down to retrieve the gun, I keep my eyes on her every move and that’s when I hear footsteps behind me. My eyes widen and cold air creeps up the back of my neck. A hard object is slammed over my head and I crumple to the ground, vision burning as I try to make out the other person in my house.

“You had one job,” the deep voice says. “And here I am cleaning up after you again.”

The man’s face comes more into focus and my next breath catches in my throat as he smiles at me.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Pena,” Officer Robinson says. “It’s all going to be okay now. You’ll be joining your husband very soon, and we’ll be making several new clients very happy with the gift you’re about to give them.”

Pressing a foot to my chest, the asshole cop bends lower to shove a needle in my neck and then my whole world goes dark.