A Jar of Hearts (28 page)
Authors: Clarissa Cartharn
6
Eric stood quietly on the verandah, hearing Anne and her parents squabble, trying to make sense of the insanity he had hurled them into.
“How is it that you didn’t know he was the same man?!” her father screamed at her.
“I didn’t! I suspected at first… but there were some things… I don’t know…” Anne was fumbling for words.
“But why… why did he do it?” Lucy pressed her.
“I don’t know! I don’t why… what… how…” Anne stammered with bafflement and frustration.
“Well, you know what he is now,” Phillip grit angrily between his teeth. “Pack what’s important and let’s go home.”
“Dad, I can’t just-”
“I’m not hearing another word from you! You’ve had your way too long! You’re coming home, Anne!”
“Phillip,…” Lucy begged. “Surely there must be some rationality to what he has done.”
“What rationality, Lucy?!” he roared. “What fucking rationality? The man is a conning bastard that is all the rationality you need to understand this shit! He is a liar and he doesn’t deserve Anne!”
“Dad, please…” Anne croaked between her tears.
“Pack your stuff! Now!”
Eric shut the door, drowning out their voices. He didn’t want to hear anymore. Perhaps, her father was right. He had a week to tell her the truth and he had stalled it because deep inside he was a liar.
He leaned against the rails, trying to move his attention to the greenery of the mountains, but it did nothing to ease the guilt or the pain inside him.
A few moments later he heard the driver of the Bentley start his engine, doors slammed and the car veered out of his driveway and back into the main road.
She is gone
. He bit hard into his trembling lower lip.
She is gone and I did nothing to stop her.
His legs wobbled under him and he held fast onto the rails to stop himself from collapsing to the floor. He should have tried explaining it to her. She deserved to know why. Instead, he had cowered outside, refusing to confront the problem head-on like he should have. He must get her back. But how? Why would she even have him? There was nothing redeeming about him.
He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to stop his tears from running out of them. He gripped the rails until his knuckles grew white from his tight vice. Even if she didn’t want him, he had to try. He would go down on his knees if he needed to, but he couldn’t give up. Not without trying.
“Eric,” she said, hurtling him back into reality.
“You stayed,” he mumbled dazedly, not knowing whether to hug her or hold back. “You didn’t go.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said.
“But why? Your father was right. I am a lying bastard.”
“Yes, you are. But Lucy is right too. I believe you wouldn’t do this without a reason.”
He staggered up to her with disbelief. He was relieved that she hadn’t left, that she was willing to give him a chance… but… “You have too much faith in me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, Anne.”
“That’s up to me to decide,” she said curtly. She lowered her head, trying to breathe steadily. She was curbing her temper, he realized.
She then lifted her head and a strange peace had overpowered her. She cupped his face with her soft palm. “I have faith in you because I love you. I always have.”
“Anne-”
“Sshhh,” she whispered. “Let me say this. Deep inside… I probably knew you were Eric. I was denying the truth about you just as much as you were hiding it from me. I was enjoying what we had and I didn’t want to risk losing it.”
“Anne.” He licked his lips nervously. He had to tell her at least now. “I couldn’t tell you the truth before but when Mark visited us a week ago to inform me that the case was over, I could have told you then. But I didn’t. I was scared… I was afraid about what you would do. But I was wrong.” He covered her palm caressing the side of his face. “I hurt you and I am sorry.”
“You talk too much.” She gave him a small smile. “Why were you afraid?”
He stared at her confusedly. Surely she knew. He was a fucked up bastard. No woman as beautiful as her would care to tolerate a man like him.
“Don’t you believe that I love you?” she asked.
“You’ve never said the words to James,” he uttered.
“Only to Eric,” she agreed. “And I am sorry about that. So you see; you were not wrong to hide the truth from me. I was partly to blame.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he rasped quickly against her. “This thing… this entire thing is my fault alone.”
She shook her head. “You’re not listening, Eric. I’ve been wanting to tell you… James… that I loved him just as much as Eric. Maybe even more. But I held back too. It was like I would betray Eric if I said the words to James. But now, you’re both James and Eric…”
“Anne, don’t-”
“When we went to town to buy some beads for my cushions a few weeks ago, I found this.” She sniveled and held forward a jar filled to the brim with colorful beads.
Why hadn’t he seen her holding that? He took it, studying it and yet not knowing what to make of it.
“Open it,” she whispered.
He unscrewed the lid and spooned out a handful of it into his palm. His mind registered what they were and he looked up at her with amazement. “Anne, these are-”
“Hearts,” she completed for him. “Hundreds of tiny little hearts… my hearts… for you. I love you, Eric Tanner… James Connelly… whoever you are.” She grinned. “And every time we have a fight, a spat, or when we’re deciding to be just plain stupid about each other, you can toss one of those little hearts out. But when you see that I’ve filled them back up for you, you can be sure that I still love you. And I swear I will never stop loving you… not until you run out of your jar of hearts.”
His legs grew unsteady and his head spun. She loved him. Despite everything, she still loved him.
He threaded his hands through her hair and tugged her head to him. His mouth came over her lips as he kissed her long and hard. She groaned when he deepened his kiss, his hands wrapping at her waist to hold her against him.
“And you’re my
raison d’etre.
My reason for living,” he muttered deliriously. “The beat of my heart, the life in it.”
ALSO BY CLARISSA CARTHARN
THE YEARNING
CLARISSA CARTHARN
They were two people brought together by grief, bounded by circumstances they never chose, and learned to love all over again.
CLARISSA CARTHARN
BOOK 1 IN THE JAR SERIES
He was the assassin running for his life and she was the blind refuge who gave him reason to stop and fight for theirs
When Eric Tanner, an assassin, is targeted to be murdered by his former employer, he seeks refuge in the house of a blind woman, Anne Mullen.
Eric knows how to live in silence. He’s done it all his life. So when he discovers Anne is blind and living on her own, he thinks this would be his perfect hideout.
But then he makes the mistake of his life. He forms an attachment to her. And for a man in his profession, such attachments are a weakness. Now, he must do everything he can to protect Anne from the world he’s come from.
VEILED DESIRES
CLARISSA CARTHARN
Nora Jennings quit her job as a photographer for a small community newspaper to fulfill her dreams of traveling. First stop- Kashmir, the land renowned as heaven on Earth.
But dreams have a terrible habit of turning into a nightmare. And suddenly she finds herself bound and gagged in Afghanistan, ready to be wedded to Pashtun warlord, Adam Afridi.
CAPTIVE- VEILED DESIRES
CLARISSA CARTHARN
HAPTER 1
Freedom- you don’t know what that means until it is taken away from you.
Nora Jennings breathed in the cool, Kashmiri air. She had long wanted to visit the little state in India. She couldn’t remember what attracted her to it first. Perhaps, it was the green hills of Sonmarg, or the wintery alpines of Gulmarg. But when she received her first opportunity to travel, of all places she chose Kashmir.
Her best friend, Amy had called her stupid. “Do you know the place is in conflict?” she had said. “They kidnap western tourists and sever their heads as well.”
“That was in 1995, Amy. It’s been almost twenty years since.”
“It still is dangerous, Nora,” she said, shaking her head. “There is so much of the world for you to see. Paris, London, Madrid, Venice. Why not one of these?”
“Because we know so much about those places, it’s like I’ve visited them already. But Kashmir… Kashmir is unknown. It’s different.”
“You’ve lost your mind, Nora. You really have.”
But Amy being Amy didn’t stop to try and change her mind until she had purchased her ticket. And for that reason, Nora had bought it quicker than she would ordinarily have. As expected, Amy stopped urging her to not go. However, her opinions on Nora’s supposed erroneous decision lasted until she boarded the flight.
The cool breeze ruffled her hair as she sat back in a floating
[1]
shikara
, watching other colorful canoes pass by silently on the peaceful waters of Dal Lake in Srinagar. Houseboats swamped the lake, operating as houses and stores. This was the Venice of sub-continent India.
She smiled at the children on the narrow piers that linked one houseboat to another. Some waved at her, while others smiled shyly. She smiled back, readying her brand new Canon point and shoot camera. The price had cut her back on her savings drastically but it was well-worth the investment. Photography was the major reason she had chosen to come to Kashmir. The scenic views, the historic elements- they were a delight for any person with a passion for the stilled arts.
Her job as a photographer for a small community newspaper like the
Chicago Herald
hadn’t paid much, but she had loved it. However, there came a point of time in life when you assess your dreams and you realize you hadn’t even lived half of them. She was twenty-eight, graduated with a photography major and working the same job for the last seven years. It was a life she never had envisioned for herself. This was not how it was supposed to have turned out.
In her little chart of life goals she had drawn out at eighteen years old, she had pinned a gold tack on twenty-two, along with a detailed plan on journeying through Europe. But somewhere along the years, the chart fell off her board and flew under her bed, where it remained buried in dust until she spring-cleaned two months ago. When had time slipped by and taken over her life? For all she knew, she’d be hit by a bus in the busy streets of Chicago and she would never live those goals. Three days later after discovering her lost chart of life’s visions, she had handed in her resignation, ready to take over the world.
She aimed her camera at the children and they shouted with glee. She laughed and silently prayed at the same time that they wouldn’t fall into the water. She’d hate to cause any harm to them at her expense.
The sounds of the clicks of her camera entwined with the luscious sweeps of the canoe by the boatman, making her feel alive and adventurous. This was what she wanted to live to do for the rest of her life.
As the boat veered towards the sunset, she saw the man stand at the end of a platform, his hands on his hips, his eyes peering seriously onto the lilies that bobbed on the surface of the water. His clothes were damp and clung deliciously onto his body. She suspected from his native attire that he was a Kashmiri local. But there was something else that distinctly caught her eye. Perhaps, it was his tall height and well-defined muscles that were transparently obvious through the thin, damp material of his long loose tunic. However the case, she didn’t want to dwell too much on the fact on why he intrigued her. His profile was beautifully mingled with the sunset in the horizon and she couldn’t afford losing the opportunity to take his picture.
She aimed her camera at him, taking a quick couple of shots before he turned and frowned at her. She immediately set her camera down. He didn’t like it, she thought as she bit her lower lip. His eyes narrowed, focusing on her intently and she lowered her own. She looked away, sneaking a small smile. Regardless of how he may have felt about it, she had found her heroic shot. She could sell it online. It was bound to be worth something.
She let her dark tresses loose over her shoulders, watching the birds skim over the lake. This was her last day in Srinagar. Tomorrow, she was traveling to Kupwara, the crown of Kashmir. She had spent a week in Kashmir and it had been nothing but heavenly. Amy couldn’t have been more wrong.