All The Broken Pieces Vol. 3, page 1
All The Broken Pieces
Volume 3
H. M. Ward
Laree Bailey Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by H.M. Ward
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.
LAREE BAILEY PRESS
First Edition: May 2020
ebook: 978-1-63035-243-1
paper: 978-1-63035-244-8
Contents
Terms & Slang Used in All In The Broken Pieces Series
You GOTTA Know This Before You Read!
All the Broken Pieces
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
SUGGESTED FERRO READING ORDER
A SPECIAL NOTE ABOUT THIS STORY
COMPLETED SERIES BY H.M. WARD
MORE FERRO FAMILY BOOKS
MORE ROMANCE BY H.M. WARD
FERRO ELITE TEAM
KID READS
CAN'T WAIT FOR H.M. WARD'S NEXT STEAMY BOOK?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Terms & Slang Used in All In The Broken Pieces Series
Ever wonder what the heck an idiom means? Never heard a slang term before?
Below is a list of the most commonly used verbiage in this series and the meaning in plain English.
Asshat (v): Demeanor and actions that are unattractively dickish.
Awesomesauce (adj.): A way to describe something that is beyond awesome with a dash of excitement. Typically said by women.
Name-ism (n): Typically two common turns-of-phrase that were mashed together to create a new, more pungent meaning.
Babylon (n): A township on Long Island where Avery grew up. There are million-dollar homes on the waterfront to tiny Cape Cod houses.
Cleavagefest (adv): When a woman’s breasts are thrust up and smashed together so tightly that it infers a sexy party may be imminent.
Cray Cray (adj): Super, over-the-top crazy.
Deer Park Avenue (n): A heavily congested road that runs through several towns on Long Island.
Guido (n): An Italian young man.
Guidette (n): An Italian young woman.
L.I.E. (n): The Long Island Expressway, or Interstate 495, is a six-lane road the runs East/ West on Long Island that ends in Manhattan.
Skankzilla (adj): A woman who is part godzilla and part skank.
Slutified (v): When the amount of skin a piece of clothing covers is severely decreased to reveal more skin.
Squee (v): A squeal of glee. Try it. You’ll like it.
Tramperella (adj): A promiscuous woman who has access to Cinderella’s royal closet and slutified the garments.
To all those with a broken heart and endless hope. Hang in there…
You GOTTA Know This Before You Read!
Read me, babe!
Thank you to everyone who supported this project! Before you start, a quick heads-up.
THIS SERIES IS FAN-DRIVEN. So I’ll release a new novella when enough people ask for another book via reviews and social media. When tons of people ask and are involved, the next book comes out fast.
So if you like the idea and love the book, make sure you do both! Having that bit of reader involvement makes a huge difference in the success of a series. It’ll also make sure you don’t miss any voting that occurs as the series progresses.
Last thing—there are ‘Easter eggs’ in this book. One per chapter. An ‘Easter egg’ in this case is a hidden bit from one of my other books. It can be anything from DEMON KISSED to DAMAGED 3.
An example would be seeing a Trystan Scott poster or passing by Ivy’s high school in Demon Kissed. This is a fun game for those who have read all my books. If this is your first book of mine or you haven’t read everything, it doesn’t affect the way the book reads at all. It’s just fun hidden surprises. I did this on a smaller scale with SCANDALOUS and STRIPPED. Have fun with it! 😊
This series has been three years in the making. It’s tense, raw, and dark. I almost didn’t publish it, but you guys cheered me on, so here it is. Thank you so much! Happy reading!
You can join in the discussion via my Facebook page: www.facebook.com/AuthorHMWard.
For a complete listing of Ferro books, look here: http://hmward.com/books/
Thank you and happy reading!
~Holly
All the Broken Pieces
Volume 3
Chapter 1
Rushing across the lawn, I slam my palms into the front door and come to a halt. “Hello?”
I don’t know why I call out. I’m half hoping to hear someone answer back, but the only sound that greets me is the hum of the fridge. That’s when I see it. The bookshelves in my living room are neat and orderly, but the books aren’t right. They were moved. It doesn’t make any sense. Something has to be missing, stolen.
I walk into the room and pivot on my heel, taking it in. Everything is almost the way I had it, but not quite. The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I can’t shake off the feeling that someone was here. Someone went through my stuff. Swallowing hard, I walk over toward my desk and see a drawer on the floor, the contents spilled out. Every muscle in my body is corded tight as I lean over and reach for the white wooden drawer.
“Don’t touch it!” K’Teal’s voice makes me jump.
I stagger away from the desk and nearly fall on my ass. My heart slams into my chest as I try to find my breath again. “What are you doing in here?”
He cocks his neck before shoving his hands into his pockets and frowning. “I called the cops, Abbs. Some fool broke into your house and you’re all walking around like it’s okay. Fuck that. What if he’s still here?”
“He’s not!” I round on him. The man is nearly a foot taller than me, so I can’t scream in his face no matter how much I want to. “No one is here, and the cops aren’t going to care about a spilled drawer and some books!”
“What books? They look fine to me.” K’Teal walks over to the shelf and points at a spine. “Hey, I know this one. I figured you’d have all brainy books, not kid stuff. Is that, like, Peter Pan? Why does it say Peter and Wendy?”
I groan, not even trying to hide my annoyance. “It’s a first edition. My best friend gave it to me. Don’t touch it.”
K’Teal jerks his hands away and holds them up, palms facing me. “No need to be violent about it.”
My eye twitches. “Just don’t touch it.” What am I going to do? Twice in one day. The cops are going to kill me.
K’Teal looks at the rest of the spines on the bookcase, strolling along with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Why would someone break in and move your shit around?”
I shrug and walk over to the couch, sitting down hard before burying my face in my hands. “I don’t know. A joke?”
“Someone hates you, babe. This is nasty, all screwing with your head and shit. You sure there’s nothing missing?” He tugs off his ballcap, smooths his corn colored hair, and then slips the hat back in place, backwards.
I don’t look up. I don’t have to. I can see his movement out of the corner of my eye. “I doubt it. It’s going to be the same as last time. A few things out of place, but nothing missing.”
K’Teal’s voice rises an octave, “This happened before? Someone is fucking with you, girl. That’s not cool. Not one bit.” When I glance up, K’Teal isn’t trying to hide his anger. He’s ripped his hat off his head. He’s twisting it in his palms. He abruptly stops, slaps it against his leg, and points it at me when he speaks. “We need to get back at those mo’fos. You can’t be letting people step on you like this. Ain’t cool, dog.”
Sighing, I look up at him. “I don’t know who—” before I can finish my sentence, the cops arrive.
Chapter 2
“Ms. Sabba? Are you all right?” It’s Jane’s voice carrying through the house.
I want to sink into the couch and die. I make a snap decision and I’m on my feet, hoping K’Teal doesn’t screw me over. “Yeah, I’m in here. Hey, listen.” I round the corner of the living room and enter the foyer. “I didn’t call this in. My driver didn’t realize the glass was broken this morning—he called it in. I’m fine. Nothing is wrong here.”
Jane watches me closely, her frown makes her square jaw lock in place. “Is that so?”
K’Teal is behind me, his hands all over the place when he speaks. “Shit, Abbs. I didn’t know this was from this morning. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jane sweeps her dead gaze over K’Teal and asks, “Boyfriend?”
“No,” I can’t help it, I make a face that says she must have hit her head to think such a thing. “Uber driver.”
“That POS sitting at the curb?” Jane asks questions in half sentences. It’s annoying, but it’s also hard to not answer.
“It’s mine, dog. And she’s the best. Ain’t no POS.” K’Teal answers a few questions for Jane before she walks through the house.
She scribbles onto a notepad, her expression dead. She finally turns back to me. “Is there anything else you want to r
“No. I’m sorry to call you out twice over the same thing.”
Jane stares at me, then K’Teal. He doesn’t say anything, so she turns to leave. Her eyes fixate on the new missing pane of glass. “I thought there was only one broken window.”
“Me, too,” I lie. “I didn’t notice this one until sunrise. It was cracked in the frame. When I touched it, it fell out and shattered.”
Jane listens and nods. Makes a note. She can tell I’m lying, but she can’t figure out why. “Ms. Sabba, get that glass replaced right away. We don’t want to waste resources sending officers out when they’re not needed.” Her dark eyes hold my gaze as she chastises me.
I take it and nod in agreement. “I will. I’m sorry about this.”
Her eyes scan the door frame as she walks through, before glancing down at the shattered blue glass on the sidewalk. She says nothing, strides back to her patrol car and sits there for a moment before pulling away.
K’Teal is in the living room, picking up the contents of the drawer and putting it back where it goes in the desk.
“Thank you,” I say from the other side of the small room. Sunlight cuts through the front windows, illuminating the space.
The young man’s face is lacking his usual animation. “You think the cops won’t help you? Not that I blame you, but still. You’re a chick living alone.”
My face scrunches before I can hide my shock. “How’d you know that?”
He shrugs. Looks around. “No photos of a guy. No dog. No cats. You have pictures out, but nothing of people. You’re a loner, chica. No worries about that. It’s all good. What I can’t understand is why someone would break in here and mess with you like this, and then you don’t bother reporting it.” He watches me, and for a moment I think there are more brains in that head than he lets on.
“Like I said, the cops were here this morning.”
“Right, and after a break-in, you went out with the front door wide open.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “And I might not be the brightest guy on the planet, but I was here when you left this morning. No broken window there,” he points to the empty pane, “and no open door. So, I gotta ask—are you all right? Is someone trying to hurt you?”
A bitter laugh tumbles out of my mouth. “No one is trying to hurt me. It’s probably just some kids screwing around.”
“Yeah, well, either way, I’m thinking you shouldn’t be alone. You want me to stay?” His gaze meets mine and is nothing but sincere. He doesn’t like this and the sense of chivalry in him is surprising. It’s not a come-on. He means to protect me.
I wave him off, careful not to insult him. “No, of course not. But, thank you. You need to work. And vlog. Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” I smirk and tuck my hands into the crooks of my arms, watching him, waiting for him to go.
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Strong women are all the same.” He pulls a card from his wallet and puts it on my coffee table. “That’s my cell number. I’m not too far from here. You need something, just call. Don’t be a dick about it either.”
My jaw drops. “What do you—?”
He smiles and shakes his head, “You know what I mean. You got it in your head that you don’t need no man, no friends, no one. Sometimes you need help, B. All you gotta do is ask. Got it?”
My arms drop and I blink at him. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
He laughs and dons his cap, twisting it backwards. “Yeah, only my homies get that kinda respect, so take it.” He walks out the door and stops on the stoop, turns back and asks, “Need a ride tomorrow morning?”
I nod.
“I’ll be here. See ya then, B.” K’Teal saunters down the sidewalk, slips into his car, and drives off. I’m not sure if I’ve made a friend or picked up a really weird stalker.
Chapter 3
Tim insists on bringing dinner and fixing the new broken pane when I tell him what happened. Half empty boxes of Chinese food sit on the kitchen table. I’ve ditched my work clothing for a tank top and shorts and tugged my hair up into a ponytail. My face is scrubbed free of makeup. It would have melted off anyway. The night air is so thick that you could swim through it.
Tim is kneeling on the stoop, half in the bushes, trying to fit a new piece of glass into the window. It’s not blue, artisan glass, but it’s actually pretty cool. It’s a piece of leaded glass with fifty shades of cobalt.
Tim runs a hand through his hair, wiping away beads of sweat as he tries to position the old glass into the empty pane by my door. He’s really not a handyman, but he’s tried to be all that and more since Zach died. He misses his brother. That, I’m sure of.
I’m sitting on the grass, to the side of the walkway and in front of the shrubs. My arms are wrapped around my legs, knees tight to my chest. “Where did you even find that?”
Tim talks over his shoulder. Sometimes he reminds me of Zach. The way he moves or a certain turn of phrase. Right now, the look he gives me is all Zach. A raised eyebrow that says I know nice shit when I see it.
Tim shakes his head, smiling, “I told you, junk shop. It was five bucks.”
I cock my head to the side. “Liar. It wasn’t five bucks, so just tell me. I won’t freak out.”
“Yes, you will. I wanted to buy it. And the words you’re looking for are, ‘thank you.’”
I press my lips together and swallow what I was going to say. “Thank you, Tim.”
He smiles back at me. “You’re welcome, Abby. Now, if I can get this fit to the frame a little better, we’ll be all set.” Tim framed out the pieces of stained glass, but my windows aren’t square, so some jimmying is required. “The first piece went in so much easier.”
“Yeah, nothing in this house is square anymore. I’m not sure if it ever was.”
“How’d you get the old panes to fit so snugly?”
“The Brooklyn glass was made to measure. She cut them to the panes, so they’d just pop in.”
He pulls out the leaded glass and takes a little more wood off the frame, then tries to put it back in place. “That’s better. What do you think?”
“Looks great, Tim.” As he finishes up the window pane, I tell him about the rest of my day, excluding the picture of Zach. That sounds too crazy and I haven’t been able to find it. I logged into Facebook again, trying to find it, but with no luck. “So, Dr. Patel thinks I should plan out my summer, have a routine, and schedule for every day until Fall.”
“That sounds like a good idea. What are you thinking about doing?” Tim nods, realizing he’s entering territory I rarely talk about.
Mentioning Dr. Patel is rare, but in this case, I needed to justify my reasoning—he has to know why. I lift a hand from my ankle and flick a blade of grass. The sun is almost entirely down and fireflies blink around me, reminding me of a million summers before. “I’m not sure, but a change of pace would be good. I kind of like your suggestion—about traveling and getting out of here.”
Tim traces the pad of his finger along the edge of the window, smoothing a line of caulk. He doesn’t look at me. “Really? I thought you were concerned that it wouldn’t look right.”
I shrug, even though he can’t see me. That was true before. His mother will kill me, and suggest we’re sleeping together. Like I just can’t keep my hands off her sons. It mattered before, to keep the peace. Now, not so much.
“What if I didn’t care about it right now? Would that bite me on the ass later? I mean, isn’t it more important to heal instead of worrying about what other people think?” I press my lips together and try to hide how vulnerable I’m feeling. A sharp grin cuts across my face as I swat at him like we’re talking about where to order take-out. “Besides, you said I could bring Vi.”
