Heart in Wire: A by a Thread Companion Novel

Heart in Wire
Copyright © 2014 by R.L. Griffin

Cover by Georgina Brooks
Photography by Lorie Rebecca Photography
Cover Model: Assad Shalhoub

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved under International Copyright Law. Contents and/or cover may not be reproduced in whole or in part in any form without the express written consent of the Publisher.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One: The State of Things

Chapter Two: A Horrific, Wonderful Idea

Chapter Three: Let Me Entertain You

Chapter Four: Grizzly Bear

Chapter Five: White Knight

Chapter Six: Torn

Chapter Seven: Is That a Tooth?

Chapter Eight: Bob and Weave

Chapter Nine: Pretty Good for a Dead Man

Chapter Ten: Plan C

Chapter Eleven: Two Lies and a Truth

Chapter Twelve: An Unlikely Alliance

Chapter Thirteen: Oh, Billy, Did I Ever Even Know You?

Chapter Fourteen: My Face Hurts

Chapter Fifteen: Lies and False Realities

Chapter Sixteen: Safe and Sound

Chapter Seventeen: Would You Kill to Save a Life?

Chapter Eighteen: Second Place is the First Loser

Chapter Nineteen: A Grain of Sand

Chapter Twenty: The Beginning and the End of Everything

Chapter Twenty-One: Why the Lies?

Chapter Twenty-Two: Getting Under to Get Over

Chapter Twenty-Three: Who are we Anymore?

Chapter Twenty-Four: Realization Can Suck It

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Last Call

Chapter Twenty-Six: Back on the Horse

Chapter Twenty-Seven: First Date, Third Base

Chapter Twenty-Eight: She was Never Mine

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Full Circle

Chapter Thirty: Simple

Chapter Thirty-One: Dreaming of Boobs

Chapter Thirty-Two: Déjà Vu

Chapter Thirty-Three: My Person

Epilogue

Razorblade Kisses

Acknowledgements

By A Thread
Series Reading Order:

By A Thread
Tension
Seamless
Mending

Companion
Heart in Wire

DEDICATION

This book is for anyone who has been in love and thoroughly entangled in someone else’s web. For anyone who was so confident in what they had with the one they loved only to have the world stripped from them and the truth so different than what they believed. It’s for anyone who did everything and gave everything for that love only to have that person walk away, leaving with their truth and world. To anyone who had to start over and build a new world, relying on themselves to take one step at a time toward an uncertain future. That uncertainty turns to light. I promise feeling that love is like a riding a wave. You always risk getting pulled under, but it’s the ride on the top that makes the risk worthwhile…whether the ride is 30 seconds or 30 years, the ride never disappoints. Enjoy the ride.

PROLOGUE

He stood there, watching as the casket was lowered in the ground, and felt a warm, gentle hand wrap around his. After a few seconds, he looked to his right and there she was, right where he needed her to be, holding his hand. He blinked three times to make sure he wasn’t imagining her being there. She squeezed his hand, two short pulses.

“You came.”

“Of course,” she replied softly.

The crowd had dissipated quickly after the conclusion of the graveside service.

“Patrick?” his mother called from the limousine they’d rented.

He waved her off without even glancing her way.

“I can take you back to the house,” she said, and leaned into his side, resting her head on his right bicep.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m staying at a hotel.”

“Don’t you want to be with your family?” she asked, leaning back to look at him, her head tilting to the side.

“Fuck no. I don’t want to go anywhere near that house right now.” He stood, unmoving, as the funeral attendants arranged the plants and flowers by the grave. His mother had already taken the flowers she wanted. There were only a few left. He’d come back tomorrow and arrange them how
he
wanted.

“Let me take you to your hotel.” She pulled him toward her car by his hand.

“You alone?” he asked, not looking in her eyes.

She was silent for a few seconds too long. “Yes.”

Good
. “Let’s go.”

She held his hand until they reached her rental car. He took her in as he opened the door; he hadn’t seen her in person in a while. She looked different, older. Her eyes evidenced lack of sleep and a few new wrinkles around the corners, but she was still everything he wanted and was trying to forget; need coursed through him. Her hair was longer again and fell in waves over her shoulders. He liked it best that way.

“Where are you staying?” she asked, starting the car.

“The Bohemian,” he responded.

“Where is that?”

“River Street.”

“Why are you staying there, Patrick?”

“I just...” his voice cracked and he tried to reign in the emotions that he knew were on verge of bursting out.

“It’s okay,” she said soothingly, rubbing her fingers over his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Kind of a role reversal, huh? You feeling any déjà vu?” he asked, grabbing her hand to make her stop rubbing.

He stared out the window at the passing landmarks of his childhood during the silent ride from the cemetery to River Street. She pulled the car up to the hotel and the valet hurried over to her side of the door. She stepped out with the confidence she always had and he missed. Speaking softly to the valet, she put several dollar bills in his hand and headed to where Patrick waited for her at the door. He pulled her into a full embrace, which soothed his nerves in a way he didn’t want to admit to anyone, then grabbed her hand and led her through the funky foyer of the hotel to the elevators. They remained quiet on the way up to the seventh floor. He kept brushing his thumb over her knuckles as a reminder that she was actually there.
For him this time
.

When they reached his room, he held the door open for her and pointed toward the Glenfiddich he’d bought yesterday. “You want a drink?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” she agreed, her voice weary.

Patrick filled their glasses then sat on the bed, staring intently into the glass of brown liquor. “How did you know?” he started.

“Your sister,” she replied shortly.

Startled, his eyes finally reached hers. “You talk?”

She nodded, met his eyes then looked away.

“Will you sit with me?” He patted the bed next to him, needing her close to him.

“Sure.” She moved cautiously, drinking half her scotch before she reached the bed. She sat close to him, their outer thighs touching.

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oh, Patrick. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Anything but be with me
. He turned to her, setting his glass down on the bedside table. He gently took her face in his hands and pulled her to him, his lips touching hers.

“I can’t...”

His heart constricted as if it was being shocked. He moved away from her quickly, but she came with him.

“Patrick, let me be here with you. Help you.” She pulled him into her arms this time, enveloping him with her coconut-scented shampoo.

He let her push him so he was lying on the bed. She scooted down until every inch of her body was touching him from behind and wrapped her arms around him. His body felt on fire.

He began to cry.

Chapter One

THE STATE OF THINGS

He lay in his bed, just waking from a restless sleep, his mind full of images of her.

She was in Key West.

She’d escaped death.

Again.

Without him.

The light came through his blinds and filtered in softly, showing his beige walls and bookcases. Books, all non-fiction, lined the shelves, peppered here and there with pictures of his family in Georgia and his family in DC.

He rubbed the stubble on his face with his hand, trying to rub out his dreams of her. Patrick Greer knew exactly when he fell inextricably in love with Stella Murphy. Almost four years ago…

They were doing a long run one morning. The run had been perfect, their rhythm in sync and both of their thoughts miles away. They were almost back to where he’d parked his car and he’d arrogantly turned to trot backwards, taking in her messy black waves pulled into a bun and the sweat glistening on her skin. Her body was toned and her muscles were perfect—lean and not too scary. She had on a long black sports top and black spandex that had white stripes down the leg. Her skin peeking through at the stomach was ivory. He longed to touch it. He’d wanted to touch her for months, but knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. She was trailing him a bit so he motioned for her to step up, tripping and falling into the grass next to the sidewalk. He was embarrassed for a second, but she held her hand out to help him up.

Right at that moment, a bird shit on her shoulder. They both watched as it oozed down her arm, and then she laughed. Her laugh was the loudest, most obnoxious, glorious sound he’d ever heard. Stella, he’d always called her El, had lived with him and his roommate, Billy Reeves, for almost an entire year, and that was the first time he’d ever heard her really laugh. It shattered all his thoughts that his feelings for her were only lust. He wanted to touch her; fuck her, yes, but he wanted to protect her, wake up with her, make her breakfast in the morning…love her. He wanted to hear that laugh in bed, out of bed, in the shower, everywhere.

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