Page 33 of Hearts Held

Break her to build her back up again.

Stronger.

The fight is there, I can see it. She has shown it once and I intend to stoke that fire and let it blaze all over my town.

Forlikecalls tolike.

Selfishly, I want her to feel things she has never felt before.

From our short interactions I have identified that her life has been painful, unforgiving, closed off, and I intend to show her what it is like to have everything and anything at her fingertips.

For this person, this tiny dove has made my soul feel something for the first fucking time in my pathetic, tortured life, and I intend to repay her kindly. Regardless of whether she meant for it to happen or not.

I think it is time to lift the veil and let her see why we burn for each other.

Chapter 9: Brielle

Breathe, Tomme Profitt & Fleurie

The sounds of my footsteps recede down the marbled hallway as I leave the massage parlor. It feels similar to leaving the confessional at church.

For the first time in a long time, I shared personal details of my life. My nursing friends and I have only spoke of small details of one another’s lives, and only if asked or prompted, but I have nothing of convenience to share considering I’m not close to my parents. Rather I listen to Tilly and Anice share, their lovely memories and funny stories of their families, longing to have a family that cares for me.

A voice interrupts my thoughts as I try to leave the massage parlor. “Hello dove.”

Abruptly I stop at the entrance to the building, and my eyes roam up Everett Afton’s strong form. His arms crossed, devilish smile painted on his handsome face, it appears he was awaiting my arrival.

“I need my company nurse,” he states, as he pulls out a delicately detailed pocket watch that appears to have a .22-gauge bullet hole through the upper corner.

“I have to work though, I…” I stop as another voice interrupts my explanation.

“Hi hi!” Tilly’s sweet voice calls from the sidewalk. Everett peers up to find her and gives a small nod to her presence.

“Ready to go to lunch, hon?” she asks as she gives Everett a questioning look.

Before I can mention anything, Everett replies, “How about I take you both to lunch? I could use a couple nurses for this afternoon.”

Tilly, looking puzzled at his request, veers in my direction for clarification as I shrug my shoulders in confusion.

I answer, “We were going to grab lunch then head to work for our shift thisevening.”

Everett gives a contemplating nod then states, “Well, how about I take you both to lunch, give the hospital that I own notice that you are needed for some private matters and then pay you double what you’d make during your one shift?”

“Oh my!” Tilly laughs out. “Well, who could say no to that!?” She steps forward, offering her arm to me. “Let’s go, hon!”

Everett walks toward a black Morris Cowley vehicle and opens the back door. I’m still digesting the information that this dangerous man owns the bloody hospital.

“After you,” he sates, motioning one hand into the vehicle.

Tilly giggles and nearly skips into the vehicle with glee.

Stoically I stand staring at the opened door, wondering if this will be a terrible idea.

“Are you coming, ya nit?” Tilly asks, leaning out of the back seat.

My eyes peer up to find Everett’s amber stare analyzing me, monitoring every movement. But the pit of my stomach gives me no pause or intuition that I should be scared, and for some odd reason provides a faint feelingof calm and trust as I decide to enter the back of the vehicle.

Everett closes the door and climbs into the front passenger seat as his driver takes us to our lunch destination, which is called Le Vie.