Cane was gone, and once again, my heart was broken.
Chapter Four
CANE
Heartbreak.
I’d never experienced it until that moment. The feeling couldn’t be described, only felt. I always heard about the monstrosity of a broken heart—that it leaves you helpless and hopeless, completely broken inside and numb on the outside. Anyone who hasn’t experienced it won’t know what it’s like. Anyone who has, knows that it will tear you the fuck up.
A heart is already fragile, vulnerable, but a broken heart comes with a dollop of pain and a heavy sprinkle of misery.
I went home that night and stared at the blood on my bedroom floor. It had gotten darker. The house was so much quieter, and my thoughts were so fucking loud. I couldn’t stand it.
I rushed back downstairs, grabbing the mop bucket from the pantry that I’d never touched before and filling it with hot water. I rushed to the laundry room and dumped some bleach into it, snatched up a towel and a sponge, and then went up to my room again.
The cops had already come by to check for evidence and get their DNA samples. All that was left was a mess—a reminder of what I’d lost. Not only Kandy, but a baby. My fucking baby. She was only nineteen years old, and I’d gotten her pregnant, then she was stabbed because of me. Our relationship had cost her so much. She was right.
I dropped to my knees and scrubbed.
Scrubbed.
Scrubbed even harder.
I scrubbed so hard that my hands reddened from the action, and my muscles locked to keep balance. Before I could stop myself, a roar had ripped through me. It bellowed, echoing throughout the house, down every hallway and bouncing off the walls. The sounds closed me in and, defeated, I dropped the blood-stained sponge into the bucket, watching the crimson stain bloom in the water, tainting it.
I huffed hard, eyes falling. The floor was clean. Hardly a trace of any blood left.
I thought it would satisfy me, but it only reminded me of my reality.
Kandy was done with me for good, and her family had been finished with me long before that.
I didn’t know when I would see her again, but what I did know was that I couldn’t stay in this house anymore. I couldn’t stay in this city. There was nothing left for me here.
After the investigation was over, I had to leave Atlanta behind for good.
Chapter Five
KANDY
The detective returned the following morning, a woman trailing in behind him. The questions were way worse this time around, and they still hadn’t found Kelly.
Where could she have gone that quickly? The detectives had confiscated my phone, so I had no idea if Cane was trying to get in touch with me or not. As badly as my heart was hurting, I did wonder if he was okay.
Two days later, I was clear to check out. Mom pushed me in a wheelchair to get to the exit and Dad was parked in front of the hospital, watching us come toward him when we got closer. He put on a faint smile and said, “I got it,” to Mom, before walking around the wheelchair and gripping the handles. He helped me get into the front seat of the car, but hunching over was beyond excruciating, despite the high dosage of pain meds my doctor had prescribed. According to my doctor, Kelly had used a tremendous amount of force with her blow, to have stabbed me deep enough to puncture my uterus. It almost felt like a phantom version of that knife was still penetrating me. Yes, it hurt that bad.
“You okay?” Dad asked as he buckled in. Mom was sitting in the backseat.
I nodded. “I’m okay.”
With a bob of his head, Dad took off. The ride was mostly quiet. Some old school music played softly, which soothed the awkward void. It was a relief when we’d made it home. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed after being cooped up in that hospital room for two whole days with my parents breathing all over me. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that they were there for me and that they cared, but it became overwhelming having them make every single decision for me, like I didn’t have a mind of my own.
When Dad pulled into the driveway of our house, he parked and killed the engine of the car, then rushed around to the passenger door to help me out. “Want me to carry you up?” I looked into his eyes and realized he was dead serious.
“Uh, no, Dad. It’s okay. Just help me walk up?”
“Yeah.” He held onto my midsection, making sure to avoid my wound, and took slow steps with me until we made it to the door. Mom was already inside, waiting at the threshold. She gave me a sympathetic smile, and I forced one back before turning and heading up the stairs with Dad still at my side.