Shattered Heart: The Donnellys, Book 3 (25 page)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Cy
n crawled, in a state of absolute hysterics to the center of the living room. She collapsed on her side, to the rug Shane had bought for her. Tears, set on perma-flow, blinded her vision and streamed down her cheeks, wetting her face. She wept and wept, and when she thought there was nothing left, Cyn cried some more.

Absolutely convinced she was losing her mind, she fought to catch her breath. A heavy weight had settled on her chest, and her mind reeled and tangled, twisting her thoughts into a mess of emotion…and through it all, the tears kept on.

Thoughts of the night with Carlos played through her mind. The gun. And the moment she decided to take her chance, rushing him, and him hitting her so hard she saw stars.

But then Shane was there…he’d come home. Thank Go—
Home.
Cyn covered her face and a cry erupted from the depths of her gut so raw her whole body arched off the floor. He’d come
home
to
her
and saved her. God help her, what had she done?

“
Shaaaaaaane! Oh God!
”

Agony filled every part of Cyn—body and soul. She rolled to her side, curling into a ball. She couldn’t breath, couldn’t think…all she could do was weep. Everything was pouring out of her. The anger, fear, agitation, regret and guilt…and she was powerless to stop it.

“Cynthia? Oh my God, honey! What are you doing?”

Cyn felt Angie’s hand on her shoulder and she jerked away from the touch.

“Oh fuck,” Maiya said. “Chica, we’re here.”

She felt another hand smooth over her hair and again she tried to jerk away from the tenderness, but one of them was at her back and the other in front of her. She didn’t deserve their care. She didn’t deserve anything, not after what she’d done and how she’d treated everyone these past weeks.

“Let’s get her up and to her bed,” Maiya said.

“Got it.” Angie placed her hand on Cyn’s back.

“
N…nooo—
” Cyn sucked in a breath, “—
j…j…juss le…eave m…mee.
”

Maiya smoothed Cyn hair back from her face. “No can do, chica. We’re getting you in bed, and we’re not leaving you until you come through this.”

“On three?” Angie said.

“Yep.”

Cyn felt an arm slide beneath her from the front and one from the back and then she was righted, both her sister and Maiya forcing her to sit up. She opened her eyes to find Maiya squatted down in front of her. “Getting you to your feet, Cyn. It’d be great if you help a little, chica.”

Cyn nodded and swallowed.

“Good. Put your arms around me.” Maiya slid her hands around Cyn’s waist and Cyn felt Angie at her back.

Cyn did what her sister-in-law asked as they both counted to three and then lifted. Cyn tried to help, but her legs felt like jelly, right along with her insides. With a grunt, she was pulled to her feet and Cyn leaned against Maiya.

Maiya held her tight for a long moment. “I’ve got you, Cyn. We both got you, honey.”

“
W
…
whyy ar
…
rre yo
…
uu he
…
eere
?”

“Joey called us.” Angie stroked Cyn’s back. “He was worried. Guess he was right to be.”

“
Bbb
…
igg j
…
jjerkk
.”

“Yeah well, be glad he’s not here. Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you into bed.” Maiya pulled away and moved to Cyn’s side.

Angie was at her other side and together they walked her to her bedroom. All the while, Cyn sobbed and sniffled. She’d sent him away. She loved him and she’d sent him away. Her body broke into chills and she shook all over, more than she already was. “I ff…fuckked uppp sssoo baddd.”

“It happens.” Maiya steered them into Cyn’s bedroom. “It’s fixable, chica.”

Angie stepped away and pulled the blankets back on Cyn’s bed as Maiya turned, and helped Cyn to sit. Maiya raised Cyn’s legs onto the bed, and Cyn lay down and curled around herself again.

Chills wracked her body and her teeth chattered. She didn’t try to talk anymore; she could barely understand her own words. The situation wasn’t fixable. The expression on Shane’s face when she told him to leave flashed in her mind and Cyn squeezed her eyes closed and started crying again. The man had no reason to ever speak to her again, let alone forgive her for anything.

“Angie, go get a rocks glass of Jameson.” Maiya climbed onto the bed.

“Just what I was thinking. I’ll bring the bottle.”

Cyn glanced up as Maiya stretched out next to her. “Cyn, I know what you’re thinking. I know you think it’s hopeless, but, honey, nothing is ever hopeless. If I learned anything, I learned that.”

Cyn shook her head and wiped her cheek. She’d fucked this up so bad there was no way Maiya was right.

“Aw, darlin, you’ll see.” She handed Cyn a tissue. “Blow your nose, sweetheart.”

Cyn took the tissue and did her best, but her nose was so packed not much came out. Angie returned, glass in one hand—half full with the amber liquid—and the bottle of Jameson in the other. She handed the glass to Maiya before moving to the other side of the bed. Cyn felt the mattress dip and then Angie stretched out behind her.

Maiya sat up and held the glass in front of Cyn. “Cyn, drink some of this, honey. We gotta get your nerves settled a bit.”

Cyn rose on one arm and took the small glass from her sister-in-law—who’d become a best friend and as much of a sister to her as Angie and the rest of her blood sisters were. Cyn put the glass to her lips and sipped.

“Yeah, how about a little more. Like maybe all of it.” Maiya raised a single brow.

“We have a whole bottle so drink that down, sis.” Angie rubbed Cyn’s back.

Cyn looked at Maiya through her blurry tear-filled eyes, nodded and drank down the remaining booze. The warmth of the whiskey coated her throat and tummy. Maiya took the glass and handed it to Angie. “Fill ’er up, Ang.”

“At your service.”

After a moment, Maiya had the glass in her hand again. “Another, but just a sip of this one.”

Cyn was so desperate for a reprieve from her emotional hurricane, she took the glass and instead of sipping as Maiya had suggested, she tossed the whole thing back. The burn wasn’t as intense but was still effective. She handed the glass to Maiya, lay down on the pillow and closed her eyes.

“That wasn’t a sip, but all righty then.” Maiya lay down too.

Cyn felt her two sisters curl around her, both with an arm around her waist. The booze spread through her veins, smooth and steady, as Cyn focused on her breathing. Her head pounded and her heart raced, but as the booze did its job, her body and mind began to settle.

A haze wrapped around her, and combined with the warmth of Maiya and Angie against her, Cyn’s body grew heavy and sleep took hold.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

C
yn woke alone in her bed, head and chest aching, along with a very heavy heart. Sitting up slowly, she grabbed a tissue from the box on her nightstand and blew her nose— And oww, that didn’t help the ache in the head thing. Her bedroom door was open and she could hear voices off in the distance. Assuming Angie and Maiya were still there, and having no idea what time it was, Cyn wiped her eyes, and headed for the bathroom.

After she’d washed her face, she made a point to not look in the mirror—she knew she looked like death warmed over, but worse, she couldn’t stand the sight of her own face. Cyn was disgusted with herself for all that she’d done to everyone.

Especially for what she’d done to Shane. He didn’t deserve it. And she didn’t deserve him.

With weariness weighing heavy on her shoulders like a wet wool blanket, Cyn made her way to the kitchen. And stopped dead in her tracks. Holy shit—her mother was at the table, along with Angie, Mary, and Katie. Maiya and Stephanie were perched on the window seat.

What the hell! Cyn’s kitchen wasn’t small by any stretch but Jesus, the amount of estrogen filling the room had to be pushing maximum overload and breaking some obscure laws of physics. The thought made Cyn smirk, before she pressed her fingers to her forehead and attempted to put a leash on the demon that always seemed to jump out of her mouth.

Feeling like she’d gotten herself somewhat under control, she looked back up at the gaggle of women in her life. “Did someone die or is this when you sit me down and have some sort of an intervention?”

Maiya let out a snort and Angie blurted a laugh. Cyn’s mother shot them both a look and then turned her gaze to Cyn. “No one has died. Thank God. Now, how are you feeling?”

“Intervention it is then.” Cyn nodded and moved to the counter. Steph was there so she knew there was already a pot of coffee ready.

“What makes you think we’re staging some sort of intervention?” Mary asked.

“Because you brought out the big guns. Katie’s here.” Cyn pulled a mug from the cabinet.

Katie chuckled and Cyn glanced at her oldest sister and gave her a small smile before pouring herself a coffee. After taking a sip of the hot brew, she turned and faced her family. “Honestly, Mom? I feel like I’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”

“That’s quite the visual.” Katie winked at her. “But I do know what that feels like.”

Cyn took a seat at her countertop bar and faced the most important women in her life. She supposed an intervention made sense…to
them
, but what they didn’t know was they were wasting their time and hers. Cyn’s mother rose, moved to the coffee pot and refilled her mug. Cyn glanced over at her. Her mother caught her gaze and Cyn felt the first, then second tear roll down her cheeks.

Mom put her mug down and immediately moved to Cyn and pulled her into an embrace. “Ah, my sweet girl.” She stroked the back of Cyn’s hair. “It’s going to be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will be. I promise you.”

Wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist, Cyn absorbed the comfort that—no matter how old a person got—they sometimes needed from their mom. Her mother stroked her back and Cyn let the tears flow, not that she had much of a choice because it seemed that the anger she’d been marinating in and spewing everywhere, was all fizzled out. In its place was raw hurt. She cried over what Carlos had done to her, and she cried for what she’d done to Shane…she knew she’d hurt him.

Cyn wanted to fix it—all of it. Herself and the situation with Shane. But fixing herself was the first step. Cyn sniffled and her mother handed her a tissue. Pulling away, she blew her nose as she glanced around at her sisters. They were all crying too.

“So…” She glanced down at her fingernails. Her normally perfect manicured nails looked like shit, which was because she’d been neglecting them. She’s been neglecting a lot of things. “I’ve decided I’ll go to therapy.”

“Oh, chica, that’s awesome!” Maiya hopped up and came running to Cyn. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!”

Angie was next, moving beside her. She gave Cyn a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want me to go with you? You know, for the first time or something?”

Cyn let a small smile arch her lips. She loved Angie, all of her sisters really, even Mary. But Angie…Ang had always been hers. Even with their age difference, she and Angie got along. She played with Barbie dolls with Angie long after Cyn had lost interest in them, all because Angie wanted to play. “I think this is something I should do myself, honey. But you can meet me afterward with some Boom Chocolatta and a spoon.”

Angie laughed. “I’m so down with that.”

Cyn leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “So the intervention wasn’t necessary. Last night’s—” She glanced between Maiya and Angie. “That was last night, right? I didn’t lose days to some weird emotional coma, right?”

Angie giggled. “No, it was last night. But, for real, wouldn’t it be cool if you could actually do that?”

“Do what?” Mary asked.

“Jeez, Mary, keep up. What she means, little sister, is that if your heart is broken or you’re deeply sad about something, it’d be cool to just go into a little coma and get a short break from the heartache.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Oh. Weird.” Mary frowned.

Cyn laughed. “And that’s why we call Katie the big guns. Plus, she’s the only one Mary listens to and doesn’t boss around.”

“That’s not true!” Mary got to her feet and rested her hands on her hips. “Stop picking on me.”

“Sit down, Mary. You need a Valium or an orgasm…something. I don’t know which, maybe both. But just cool your jets.” With one brow raised and arms crossed on the table, Katie stared up at Mary.

Mary sat almost as fast as she’d stood, right on command, and Cyn had to suppress a “Told you so.” Somehow, she managed to not say it. It wasn’t worth it, not right then, anyway.

Their mother smoothed Cyn’s hair back from her face. “One of the servers at the restaurant has mentioned someone they go to, they sound like they might be pretty good. I’ll ask her the name.”

“Okay.” Cyn nodded and smothered a yawn with the back of her hand. She was tired. But more so, she was weary…and she was defeated—hopeless even. At least those were the feelings that kept rising and receding, only to rise again, inside her.

“Good. I think we’ll get out of your hair, unless you want us to stay?”

“No. I’m okay.” Cyn looked at Maiya and Angie. “Unless you two want to stay again?”

Maiya ran her fingers through her hair. “Wish I could, honey. I need to get home to Jacob. He’s missing me something fierce…and Ryan is too. Personally, I think it’s really just Ryan doing the missing.” Maiya let out a small chuckle. “Little man loves his auntie Cyn so he knows that I needed to be here. But I’ll stop by tomorrow right after work.”

“I’ll stay, Cyn. No worries, honey.” Angie rubbed Cyn’s back.

Relief washed through Cyn. She didn’t want to be alone again for fear there’d be a repeat of last night’s drama. “Thanks, Ang.”

Once everyone was gone, she and Angie crawled into Cyn’s bed. Angie had her laptop propped on her lap and was browsing through Netflix to find something for them to watch. Cyn didn’t much care what her sister picked, as long as it wasn’t a chick flick. The last thing she felt like watching was a happy-ever-after love story. Happy was a stupid pipe dream—one Cyn didn’t want to be reminded of.

She cradled Shane’s pillow against her chest. “I miss him, Ang.”

“Aw, baby doll.” Angie smoothed her palm over Cyn’s hair. “I know you do. Why don’t you call him?”

Cyn sniffled and wiped the tear that’d emerged and trickled over her nose. “No.”

“Why not? I bet he misses you too.”

“I don’t know how he could. After the way I treated him? I wouldn’t blame him if he hated me.”

“Hey, if he hates you, it means he loves you.” Angie focused back on the computer.

Cyn frowned. “What? Angie, you’re crazy. That makes no sense.”

“Oh, it makes perfect sense. Trust me on that. Hate is a strong emotion, just as strong as love, and when a man loves you like Shane does? There’s no doubt he might hate you a little too. Ask Mom, betcha she’ll agree with me. Love and hate? They go together, Cyn.”

Cyn let out a sigh. It made sense, sort of. She’d definitely felt hate for the men in her past relationships, but it was only after they’d pushed her past the point of no return and it was just too painful to love them anymore.

Hate was easier to feel. But hate also paved the road to her getting over those guys, so if Shane hated her, eventually he’d get over her. The thought made Cyn’s stomach cramp, folding in on itself. She didn’t want Shane to hate her. And she definitely didn’t want him to get over her. But Cyn didn’t know how to stop either from happening.

She’d done the damage and made her bed. The only thing for her to do now was lay in it.

* * * * *

A
few days later, Cyn emerged from the counselor’s office feeling…not so relieved, but more like she’d just gone through the spin cycle in an industrial-sized washing machine. Her insides felt scrubbed raw. And her mind was filled with the memories of the night with Carlos. Having to tell that story, in detail, sucked more than the night she’d experienced it. Bile had burned the back of her throat the whole time she talked.

The therapist had assessed her issues, based on some questions that she’d asked, and determined that Cyn was only one symptom away from actually having PTSD. Instead the woman felt she had ASD: Acute Stress Disorder.

It made sense enough to Cyn, but really, all Cyn cared about was the fact that she was sick of feeling like a total nut job in her head and also real fucking tired of being pissed off all the time and biting everyone’s head off.

As she crossed the parking lot to her car, her cell phone beeped with a text alert and she pulled it from her purse. Swiping her thumb across the screen she read the message.

Angie:
Are you out yet?

Cyn:
Just barely. Walking to the car now.

Angie:
Cool beans. Meet at my place. Maiya is here and we have ice cream and whiskey.

Cyn:
Oh, shit. LOL Okay, be there in 40 or so.

With a smile on her face—which was a totally unexpected thing and quite rare as of late—Cyn tucked her phone away and slid behind the wheel of her Jeep. Her sister was a freaking angel, and Maiya was too. Ice cream and whiskey seemed like the oddest combo on the planet, yet the absolute perfect one.

After the heavy, heart-wrenching session with the counselor, Cyn needed a bit of a reprieve from her emotions. And of course, Angie and Maiya knew exactly how best to give her that. Pulling out into traffic, Cyn drew in a few cleansing breaths and queued up her iPod. The familiar beat of her friend, Tarra Layne’s song “Beautiful Day” flowed through the interior of the vehicle and Cyn smiled again.

It was a beautiful day and things were looking better than they had in a long time, but she had a feeling the next several sessions were going to be just as difficult as this first one had been. The counselor assured her that it would get easier, and Cyn really hoped the woman was right.

Traffic was lighter than she’d expected and she got to Angie’s in less than the forty minutes she’d figured on. After parking, Cyn made her way to her sister’s front door.

Mid-knock, Angie swung the door wide. “Why are you knocking? Did you lose your key?”

“No, I think I left it at home in my other purse.” Cyn stepped past Angie.

“All good. Maiya’s in the back.”

Cyn followed Angie through the kitchen to the back door. Maiya was stretched out on the outdoor loveseat, whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other. She glanced up as soon as Cyn stepped outside. “What’s up, chickadee?”

Cyn took the spot next to her. “Oh, you know, just been through a rinse and spin cycle, AKA therapy. You?”

“I cooked my boys dinner. Kissed them both on the top of their heads, grabbed a bottle of Jameson from the cabinet and high-tailed my ass over here.” Maiya grinned and took a drag of her smoke.

“When are you going to quit smoking?” Angie approached with three bowls of ice cream, precariously balanced in her hands.

Cyn jumped up and grabbed one of the bowls. “Oh my God you could have dropped the Boom Chocolatta. What is wrong with you? Never ever risk the Chocolatta!” Cyn giggled and shoved a spoonful in her mouth.

Maiya grinned and took the bowl Angie offered her. “Never mind about my smoking. It’s been a topic as of late with Ryan. And, yeah, no shit about the risk to the ice cream. Don’t you have a tray? You’re a Donnelly, for fuck’s sake. You all have serving crap galore.”

“Who needs a tray when you have hands and skills?” Angie laughed. “But yeah, I do have a shit ton of trays. Don’t tell my mother.” Her sister lit the gas fire ring centered in the square, slate-tiled table centered between the loveseat and two chairs. “So, why are you and Ryan discussing your smoking?” Angie took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs and spooned up a mouthful of ice cream.

“Now, this is a topic I
do
want to talk about.” Cyn smiled again. Wow, she actually felt the twinge of a cramp in her cheeks. Jesus, had it really been
that
long since she’d smiled regularly that her cheeks were cramping? The realization only made her smile more. She wasn’t cured by any stretch, but apparently simply talking about the attack with Carlos in detail had already started to lift a burden Cyn hadn’t realized she was carrying.

“You two, I tell you what. Never mind that now. Cyn tell us about the session. Did you like the therapist?” Maiya propped her feet on the table and wiggled her toes in front of the flame.

“Okay fine, but first—” Cyn swallowed a spoonful of chocolate bliss and then continued, “—where’s the whiskey?”

Maiya laughed. “I got mine before I came outside.”

“Damn, I need another arm.” Angie hopped up, ran in the house and was back before Cyn got two more mouthfuls of ice cream in—two glasses and the bottle in hand. She placed them on the table, filled each one two fingers full and resumed her seat. “Okay, go!”