Picking Up the Pieces Read online

  PICKING UP THE PIECES

  E.L. GREEN

  Copyright © 2015 E.L. Green

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Cover Design: © L.J. Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

  Formatting by Mayhem Cover Creations

  www.mayhemcovercreations.com

  Copyedited by Cassie McCown

  www.gatheringleavesediting.com

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

  PICKING UP THE PIECES

  A shattered heart. A damaged soul. A second chance.

  A journey of learning to love again, battling to pick up all the pieces.

  Ellie finally found her knight in shining armour. She thought she had her happily ever after. But of course, not all stories have a happy ending, and tragedy strikes in the worst form. Widowed at twenty-four, she turns to her old friend tequila.

  Her best friend and fellow nurse leaves England to start a new life in Vancouver, Canada, but not before inviting Ellie to join her. Both agree this could be the fresh start she needs. A way to escape her haunting memories. Unfortunately, life has other ideas and throws Ellie a new set of trials. The biggest one being Kyle—“Prez” of the Angels of Death MC.

  Kyle’s life is the MC… and his kid brother. He doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t do love. But fate throws a feisty Brit in his path, with more baggage than a Boeing 747. Not only does Ellie manage to crawl under his skin, but she manages to unintentionally crawl her way into his normally stone-cold heart.

  “He didn’t even notice my scars. If he did, he looked straight through them. I knew right then all he could see was me. All of me. My hurt, my pain, my flaws, my conflict, my desire, my love… all the craziness that made my brain tick. He saw me. Only me.”

  Ellie finds herself on a journey of self-discovery as she not only has to come to terms with her past, but has to learn how to love again and accept her future.

  Kyle has to follow his own path and realise he is capable of love and there’s more to life than the club.

  “Who was I trying to kid? She was mine. She was mine the moment I saw her, packing my kid brother’s bullet wound in the middle of a hospital waiting room. She just didn't know it yet.”

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  After the last of our luggage was loaded into the back of the car, I shut and locked the door of our new home and did a quick scan of the windows and garden before turning my attention to the gorgeous man sitting in the front seat of our new family car parked in the driveway. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as Jake fidgeted in his seat and played with the gadgets. He was like a big kid with a shiny new toy, and I doubted even standing naked before him would distract him from pressing the multiple buttons. It was a good few minutes before he realised I was even standing there. His smile matched my own as he reached for my hand and pulled me gently into the passenger seat. I got lost in the depths of his gorgeous blue eyes. They’d captivated me the first time I’d seen them, and four years later, they still had the same effect. The smirk he flashed when he realised I was staring had me giddy like a schoolgirl over her first crush. This wonderful specimen of a man was all mine, and I was the luckiest girl alive.

  “Our last holiday before our angel arrives. Just so you know, I intend to make sure we don't leave the hotel room.” He pulled me across the car in one fluid movement, but I was abruptly stopped when the gear stick got in the way of my very large, rounded belly. The heat of the moment quickly evaporated, and we both burst out laughing. “Things were so much easier on the bike.” He sighed.

  I adjusted myself back on my side of the car and fastened my seatbelt.

  Yes, things were easier on the bike. I looked down at my baby bump and smiled at the memory.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I do want to do a bit of sightseeing, you know,” I said, referring to his earlier comment. I was still slightly flustered, so I opened the window to let in some fresh air. Sticking my arm out, I felt the warmth of the spring sun settle on my skin. There was hardly a cloud in the sky. I relaxed back into my seat and became lost in thought as I watched the birds, wondering what it would be like to be truly free, soaring above the earth.

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road. I have a beautiful pregnant wife to ravish for a whole weekend. I also plan on making good use of the hot tub,” Jake said, pulling me back to reality.

  “Really? That sounds pretty amazing. If I were her, I’d be anxious for you to get there as soon as possible.”

  Jake reversed out of the driveway quickly, prompting me to hold on to the door handle and scream with delight. He stopped and looked me over before grinning from ear to ear, lust evident in those beautiful eyes, but the love that shone from them was just as fierce. As if our angel sensed it too, she somersaulted, causing a ripple across my stomach. He pulled away from the curb safely, and as we headed off for our last weekend of freedom, we both wore matching expressions. It had taken me a while, but finally, my life was exactly how I wanted it to be. I was happy. I was safe.

  Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

  Seconds. It took seconds for my whole world to shatter and collapse around me. To be torn from a life I had worked so hard to achieve and thrown straight back to the depths of despair and the existence I’d fought so hard to forget. Seconds to slip back into that broken girl all over again.

  An earth-shattering scream, the sickening sound of crunching metal on metal, and such intense pain I wasn’t capable of stringing together a coherent thought. The world fizzled out around me, an incessant ringing in my ears drowning out the chaos, and then absolute deafening silence consumed me before I was completely swallowed by darkness.

  I drifted in the darkness for minutes, hours, days, weeks… Distant voices asked me to wake up. Sometimes I could hear sobs, but I knew, deep down, none of those voices belonged to him. I knew I didn't want to wake up if he wasn't there.

  For a while, the darkness kept me protected. There was no pain, just peace. I was safe in my own bubble. It was as if I knew if I headed toward the light, the pain would rip me open like it never had before. It would be so intense I was certain I wouldn’t survive. Yet the light persisted,
and soon, the compulsion to leave the darkness became too much.

  It wasn’t the sort of light you hear about in stories. There was no one standing there waiting for me to step through and join them on the other side. I was trapped in a darkness, in between, and rather than being drawn to the afterlife, something shoved me completely in the other direction, pushing me to wake up. Someone was urging me to fight, telling me it wasn't time to give up now no matter the challenges I would face. I was a survivor.

  I made that final step and walked into the light.

  A relentless beep, beep, beep in the distance had me stirring from my slumber and was seriously pissing me off. God, I was so tired. The beeping came louder and louder. It was literally driving me insane. I needed it to stop. A hammer should do the job. Preferably a very large one. I tried to turn, but I couldn't move. I was completely frozen to the spot, and panic replaced any annoyance I had over the awful sound.

  All my senses screamed at me to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like lead. I finally managed to flutter them, but as soon as they were fully open, I had to shut them quickly. It was too bright. The beeping sped up and became a more erratic.

  What the hell is happening?

  Even with my eyes firmly shut, I felt disorientated and, my God… that noise! I lifted my eyelids more gradually so I could adjust to the light and then allowed myself take in my surroundings. My throat tightened and I struggled to breathe, not just because there was a tube shoved down it. My arms felt less like lead and more like jelly now, but I moved them slowly and gagged as I pulled at the tube. Tears pooled in my eyes and I squeezed them shut, letting the moisture spill down my cheeks. Flashes of the accident violently assaulted my thoughts, causing me to whimper in pain. Please no, please no. I moved my hand to my now flat stomach, confirming what I already knew. Oh God, no. In one final attempt, I yanked the tube free and let out a silent scream.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ellie

  “Hey, Els. How you doing?” Cassie walked into the private hospital room, clutching my chart and wheeling in a blood pressure machine. It was time to check my vitals again. She needn't have bothered. I knew she was just doing her job, but she was smothering me, using it as an excuse to check up on the patient who’d lost her mind.

  You see, I might have been physically healing well, but mentally—not so much. At least I’d started eating and speaking again. For three weeks, I’d refused my meals and ended up being fed through a tube. Being manhandled in order to insert said feeding tube was degrading, but I was in no state to feel shame. I also refused my pain medication. The whole ordeal was nasty, but I endured the discomfort. No one could understand the pain was the only thing keeping me remotely sane. I needed it to help me feel alive. I needed it as a distraction from what was really going through my mind. If I didn’t feel the pain, then I wouldn’t feel anything. I would be numb. Dead like Jake and Lyla Rose.

  I might have come back into the light, but the darkness still consumed me.

  “Fine. When can I get out of here?” I asked. I tried, but I couldn't even manage a smile.

  Cassie wasn't just my nurse; she was my best friend since primary school and probably the only person, apart from Jake, who really knew me. She’d been my critical care nurse, but unable to let go, managed to pick up some agency shifts when I was transferred to the private hospital two weeks ago.

  “Probably a couple more days. Did you see Dr. Cole today?” she asked.

  Dr. Cole was the shrink assigned to me when I first showed signs of mental instability. Not sure how you’re supposed to act when your husband and daughter are killed tragically, leaving not only your body, but heart and soul completely in pieces, but apparently not talking, not breaking down every five minutes, not eating, and refusing meds gets you labelled a mental health risk pretty quickly. If only they knew.

  I’d been in hospital for three months, one of those in a coma. He’d visited every day for the past five weeks. Often sporting a tweed jacket, delicate glasses perched on the end of his nose, and a head full of fuzzy silver hair, he resembled a nutty professor and probably should have retired years ago. He was nice enough, I suppose. My appointments were valuable in the sense it gave me something to do and meant I didn't have to spend time with unwanted visitors. As for the actual purpose of the sessions, they probably didn't do much to help, and to be honest, I wasn't ready for whatever else they were meant to expose. Most of my life, I’d managed to deal with my problems on my own. I didn't need to start relying on anyone else now. I’d relied on Jake, and look where that got me.

  “I said I was fine, and I'm fine.”

  Cassie wrapped the blood pressure sleeve around my arm and pressed the button to inflate it. “Your BP is one-twenty over eighty, so absolutely spot on. We'll make our way down to physio at two, and then Matt will be able to sort out an outpatient schedule.”

  I nodded. Matt was okay for an arsehole. He either didn't know my husband had just died or didn't know how to think with anything other than his dick.

  “Good, you’re awake!” My mother swept in as if she owned the place and chucked her bag on a chair. I looked on expressionless and waited for her normal theatrics. Cassie immediately made herself scarce.

  On cue, the woman who called herself my mother wiped her eyes as she shed the crocodile tears she’d perfected over the years. “You are looking so rested. I must look a mess. I mean, look at the bags under my eyes. I haven't been able to sleep for days. All this stress is wearing me down, and my blood pressure is going through the roof! You have it so easy in here, resting up while the rest of us have to just get on with it, but still, it's not like you know much different, is it? You've always had the easy life.”

  And there we have it… My mother, the bane of my existence.

  Since waking from my coma, I had daily visits from my parents. I would like to say I welcomed them, but I’d be lying. My father would turn up and hardly say a word. My mother made it her mission to inform me every day about how hard everything had been on her. Like always, I was the cause of her lack of sleep, loss of appetite, and the increase in dosage of her blood pressure medication. Anyone would think it was her whose husband and daughter had died.

  It's not like her behaviour was unfamiliar to me. She was selfish, a control freak, a master of emotional blackmail and insults. I would never be good enough to meet her standards, no matter how hard I tried. You would think being twenty-four, I’d be able to move on from this by now, but no matter how hard I tried to forget, her comments haunted me every day. I suppose I should have been grateful she wasn’t throwing her usual insults at me. I could take the selfish comments; it was the other stuff I found harder to handle, and right now, my frame of mind was beyond fragile.

  The idea of ever confronting my parents or defying them in any way had always scared the hell out of me. They had influence over everything I ever did, whether I liked it or not. Even if I managed to make my own decision, they would have to have their say in some way.

  The decision to go into nursing was easy. I wanted to help people, and if I were honest, I thought this would be a profession that would make my parents proud, make them happy, but like everything I wanted to do, they tried to talk me out of it. It was apparently hard work, underpaid, and I didn't have the patience or brains.

  Really, Ellie? Only bright people become doctors and nurses, dear.

  I winced at the memory and shoved it back in the box with the rest of them. They fought me every step of the way, but for the first time in my life, I fought back. When I said they wouldn't have to pay a penny, they finally agreed I could go to uni to train to be a nurse. I’d been planning my escape since getting a job at fourteen, so luckily, I had savings. From an early age, I knew I had to break free of their overbearing hold and control before it killed me.

  It was during my training to become a nurse that I met Jake. I was twenty. He was eight years older, a police officer in the local armed response unit, and raced motorbikes for a hobby. I th
ought my parents would love him, but once again, I was wrong. According to my mother, he wasn't husband or family material. What they actually didn't like was he had his own mind and stood up to them. They, or rather my mother, didn't talk to me for two weeks when I told them we were getting married. I should have taken that as my chance to run, but still, I did everything in my power to try and make them accept me again. It was as if I craved their attention, whether good or bad. I was a glutton for punishment.

  Still, I defied my parents and married Jake anyway because I couldn't lose what I had with him. He made me feel safe in his strong arms, his smile made me go weak at the knees, and he loved me for who I was, but deep down, I also knew he was my chance to escape.

  A single stray tear rolled down my left cheek and I wiped it away quickly. I wouldn’t cry in front of her.

  “Ellie. Are you even listening to me?” I turned around and faced my now red-faced mother. Admittedly, I had zoned out seconds into her one-sided conversation. “Stop being so selfish. We’re doing everything for you, and you just sit back and ignore me! I know it has been hard, but you need sort yourself out. Jake is dead, and count yourself lucky you never met Lyla Rose and got the chance to love her like I did. You have always been such a selfish little bitch. I can’t believe you are my child.”

  I'm not sure why I ever expected any different. Over the years, I’d perfected blocking out her hurtful comments. In truth, I’d always known she had the capability to be a cold-hearted bitch, but never in my life had she stooped so low. Whatever she said after that was lost on me as I processed the last sentence. The room became hollow as the whooshing sound of my blood pumping through my veins drowned out everything around me. I could feel it boiling right down to my marrow as white-hot fury replaced any complacency I might normally have found in my mother’s company. To say I was shocked and angry was an understatement.

  My poor, sweet Lyla Rose came into the world too soon. Born by emergency caesarean at twenty-eight weeks gestation and weighing just over two pounds, she fought hard for two days, but her lungs just weren't strong enough. I never got to see my angel and never got to say a proper good-bye, as both hers and her dad’s funeral had taken place while I was in the coma. Despite this, I loved her with all my heart. I might not have ever held her in my arms or kissed her delicate little face, but the love I had for her was there the instant I saw those two pale-blue lines. I only had the photos the neonatal unit gave me, but my C-section scar would be a constant reminder of what I loved and lost.