Falling Hearts
Maggie Garrity
Prologue
The car suddenly jolted, and I let out an involuntary shriek as I tried to gain control. The tires just didn’t seem to want to get any traction on the ice-covered road. The steering wheel jerked out of my hands and the car started spinning wildly. It felt like time slowed down as I watched the wall of trees growing closer with every revolution. I screamed his name as I realized I would not stop until I hit those trees.
With a massive crunching sound, the car slammed into a tree on my side and seemed to fold in on itself. I was lurched into the door and pain swept through my left side causing me to cry out again. My movement stopped when my head smacked against the door frame.
I couldn’t breathe. I tried forcing air into my lungs, but it felt like my chest was caving in. Each breath I managed was agony. I felt hot liquid coursing down the left side of my face while the rest of my body felt ice cold. I thought the car was shaking, but then I realized I was shivering violently. Dizziness swept through me and my head dropped forward, so I didn’t have to watch the unmoving world continue spinning.
Grayness started creeping into my vision. My breathing kicked up as I started panicking. Where is he? I thought deliriously. I could hear howling in the distance, or is that the wind? I didn’t even get to tell him…I thought as my world went black.
Chapter One
Zee
The air in the bar was permanently saturated with the smell of cigarette smoke and spilled beer. As it filled with customers the smells of sweating bodies and greasy food would join the mix to create a pungent cocktail. The air could become so stifling at times that I would duck out the back door and stand in the alley breathing in the cool air that blew in off the lake. It was a Saturday though, so my moments of fresh air were limited to the brief gusts from customers coming and going. It wasn't much, but beggars can't be choosers on busy nights.
“Hey Zee, can I get a beer?” one of the local warehouse workers, Nick, hollered as I passed his table.
“Sure thing,” I replied as I swatted away one of his grabbier co-worker's hands. I leaned over the bar to grab a bottle for him and got smacked on the head with a bar towel.
“You're gonna crack your head one of these days, Zipporah,” Lynn scolded as she tossed the towel down in favor of a bottle of tequila and a shot glass for a guy at the bar. Leaving her mothering mode, she flirtatiously winked at the guy as she pushed his shot towards him.
“Zee,” I corrected her as I turned away. Chuckles rang out from regulars who knew of my constant fight to get Lynn to call me by my preferred name. Zipporah was just too much for any person. My mother had loved the name so there I was stuck with a moniker like Zipporah Rose Lanston. I would have gone by Rose, but it really didn't go well with my looks or my attitude. So, I adamantly insisted everyone call me Zee from as early an age as I could override my mother.
I sat the beer in front of Nick and smiled appreciatively at the three-dollar tip he handed me. Paydays at the warehouse meant good tip nights for at least two nights after. From the massive grin on my fellow waitress, Jackie's, face she was raking it in, too. Before I could thank him a gust of wind whipped past me and ruffled the hair that stubbornly refused to stay in my ponytail. I glanced at the door in surprise. The bar was packed with all our regulars, and it was late for the tourists to be stopping by out of curiosity.
The first thing I noticed about the new customer was that he had an amazingly muscular chest. His solid black shirt was stretched tight across his pecs. Every single line was defined up to his shoulders and down his strong arms. I had no doubt his stomach would be equally defined beneath his clothing. Even with all the muscles he still looked lithe, like a runner more than a body builder.
With his head turned away I had noticed all of this in seconds. I also noticed the disheveled state of his clothes. Dirt covered his dark blue jeans, and there was a tear in his shirt. Tan skin flashed as he moved. He turned back toward the room with a grin on his face. He looked like he was mid-laugh as he strode purposefully towards an empty table in the back of the bar and sat down.
I unthinkingly followed him. The closer I got the harder it was to look away from his incredibly attractive face. He had a strong jaw line covered in black stubble. It gave him a slightly rugged appearance that was thrown off by the dimple in his chin. His cheekbones were high and prominent. He had a high forehead and hair so black it almost looked blue.
His eyes were captivating. They were an unusual light brown color. As I stopped in front of his table, they shifted around the room. He seemed to be taking in everything. The local pictures on the wall, the dancing patrons, Lynn at the bar talking to a customer, Jackie flirting with some kid instead of getting anyone their drinks, and then his eyes landed on me.
I knew I was standing at his table staring. He looked dangerous in a way, and I wondered why anyone would be dumb enough to fight with him. His full lips stretched into a grin and I blushed as my heart started pounding. His grin got even bigger, the dimples in his cheeks deepening.
I was about to ask him if he’d like
