Shattered Peices

“Boy, will I be relieved once you two are back!” I playfully rib my brother. I am watching their ranch while they’re off on their honeymoon. But honestly, all this responsibility is severely damaging my extracurricular activities. “You tell him to watch his mouth, or we won’t bring him back any souvenirs,” I heard Oakleigh chime in from the background. “Unless it’s a risque portrait of you, I’ll pass on the gifts,” I jest, knowing it’ll rile up my brother. I would never. Oakleigh is family, and she’s a perfect match for my brother. They have been through hell and come back together. They came out stronger. I’m happy for those two. But let me tell you about the girl who has taken residence in my brain. Haven is a total babe; she seems unfazed by my pretty face and sexy body. Confident, not cocky, I say. The Carter clan is on fire when it comes to finding soulmates. Two of my brothers are now hitched, and the other is working hard to convince his lady that marriage is the way to go. And my sister? She found her forever, but fear kept her from a happy ending. As for me, well, I’m not sure love is in the cards for this guy. The girl renting space in my head hasn’t been heard from in ages. But hey, who knows what the future holds? “Don’t even think about it, Coldwell,” Carrington growls, interrupting my thoughts. I have to laugh. “Ah, same old surly brother.” “Damn straight when it comes to my wife,” He asserts. His irritation is apparent. “Hold on a moment,” I interject. “There’s a car with its flashers on in front of your driveway. Let me see if they need assistance. I pull up alongside the vehicle in my truck and notice a woman slumped over the steering wheel. This doesn’t look good. “Coldwell, what do you see,” Carrington inquires. “There’s a woman slumped over the steering wheel of her car. I’m not aware of anything else yet. Let me check it out,” I respond as I exit my truck. “Should I call 911?” Oakleigh asks. “No, let me see what’s going on first,” I reassured her, realizing my brother had put me on speaker. As I walk around my truck, I knock on the driver’s side window, but the woman does not respond. Instead, I heard a small voice. “Are you here to help my mommy?” I noticed a little girl in the backseat. I saw the fear in her eyes, and my heart broke. Her mother is slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious. I checked the doors, but they’re locked. “Can you unlock the door, sweetheart?” I ask the girl. “ My name is Coldwell. I need to check on your mommy.” I am hyper-aware that this little one has likely been taught the art of “stranger danger.” I hope she can recognize a helping hand when she sees one! Meanwhile, my hands-free headset blares with Carrington's urgent demands. “There’s a child in that vehicle? We need to call for help,” he shouts, “Oaks call 911!” With a swift finger, the little girl taps the unlock button, releasing the lock on her side. As Carrington yammers in my ear, I hit the lock button several times until the driver's door opened. Suddenly, the woman stirs from her slumber, begging not to involve the police, insisting she needs to make it to Austin. Oakleigh picks up on the mention of Austin, and I imagine seeing her standing next to Carrington, demanding to know who is in that car. Then, in a commanding tone, Oaks demands to know who is inside the vehicle. As a sinking feeling settles in, we all think the same thing. We know who this woman is. My mind is racing as I pray my suspicions are wrong. “Haven, is that you?” I ask, unable to see the person's face. I stare at her, noticing the long dark brown hair that looks familiar. And her voice, strained as it is, only reinforces my growing sense of unease. Looking back at the little girl, I see the resemblance, and my anger boils over. Who could have done this to her? Then, she raises her head to look at me. What I see before me is almost too much to believe. Her face is bruised, her eyes are black, and she has a split and swollen lip, marring her beautiful face. She has a cut on her head with blood caking her hair. My heart sank as I realized that my worst fears were not unfounded. “Haven, baby, lean away from the door. Let me in. I can help you,” I said through the door. After a moment of silence, I listen to the door creak open. My heart sank at the sight of her. She wore an oversized sweatshirt, but I noticed the bruises on her wrist. I saw the marks on her next as I lifted her hair from her face. “Haven, what happened to you?” I asked softly, trying to remain calm, but my anger swirled beneath the surface, threatening to explode. But that is not what Haven or her daughter need right now. They need compassion. “Please let me help you,” I said, gently taking her hand. She hesitated a moment before nodding slowly. “Avery, first, get Avery.” She says, looking at me. I see the recognition in her eyes, but she says nothing else. “Haven, you need to go to the hospital. You are hurt badly. You could have internal damage.” I told her. “No, get Avery and me to Austin,” she persists. I notice her struggle to breathe and am concerned about fractured ribs. Just then, I heard Oakleigh’s voice through my headset. “ I called Austin, and they’re coming to you, Coldwell,” she said. Relieved, I turned back to Haven, “Austin is on her way. We’ll get you and Avery taken care of,” I reassured her. “Can you walk, baby?” I ask her. She tries to stand, but the painful expression on her face tells me everything. She likely has bruised or broken ribs. “Sit back down. Let me get Avery in the truck, and I’ll come back and help you. Haven sits back down, and I move to get Avery in my truck. All I can say is thank goodness I have nieces and nephews because navigating child seats is ridiculous. Who came up with this design? I strap Avery in and go back for Haven. “Come on, baby, I got you. This is probably going to hurt, though. I’m sorry.” I say as I put one arm under her legs and one behind her back. Haven cried out as I apologized over and over. I promise whoever did this will pay. “Is Avery Okay?” she asks me worriedly. "She's fine. I strapped her into the seat. You stopped right by Oaks and Carrington’s place. We can go there. We need to get you to a hospital." She shakes her head no, “I need to ensure Avery is safe first.” I pull up to the house and swear I will do everything possible to protect her and her child. I will fix this. “Hang tight, as second Haven. I need to let the dogs out first, and I’ll be right back,” I tell her. She nods and closes her eyes, staring out the window, looking too broken and lost. I get Avery out, and she follows me inside. I let the dogs out and noticed Haven trying to stand on her own. I rush out the open front door. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you,” I say, scoping her up in my arms. I whisk yer away to the spare bedroom with all the care in the world. I notice how light she feels in my arms, and even though I didn’t think it possible, my anger flares even more. Was she being starved, too? I gently lay her on the bed, and Avery climbs to lie beside her mom. “Be careful, Avery. Mommy’s not feeling very good right now,” I remind her. The sight of Avery caressing her mother’s hand makes even the most stoic of people tear up. “Daddy didn’t mean it, Mommy,” Avery says sweetly, and I have to walk away to wipe my tears. The innocence of a child should never have to see their mother like this. What sick bastard does this, and why? “Hey, Coldwell, can we video call? I need to see what we are dealing with?” Carrington asks. He is an ex-Navy Seal, so he has some basic medical training, which is more than mine. I disconnected the call to accept the video call. Oakleigh is right there with Carrington, demanding to see Haven. I know hers comes from a place of love for her friend. Oak is a loyal friend who will do anything to protect the people she loves. She’s got the fierce momma bear thing in the bag. I walk over to Haven’s bed and gently move her hair away from her face. Oakleigh gasps and murmurs something exactly as I feel, ‘Someone is going to pay for this.’ In the background of the video call, I see my sister-in-law pacing back and forth in anger. I heard the front door open, and suddenly, Austin’s voice echoed through the house. “Hey, Coldwell, where are you?” “Spare bedroom,” I yell out. I heard footsteps as Austin rushed into the room. She froze in her tracks, and tears streamed down her face. I could feel the heartache as she ran to her long-lost friend, whom she hadn’t seen in over four years. “Haven, what happened? Who did this to you?” Austin asked as she checked over her friend's injuries. Haven struggled to sit up and calmly said, “I need you to look after Avery for me.” “Avery? Why do I need to look after her?” Austin asked, puzzled. I glanced at Cortland, who was equally confused, and we both shrugged in unison. Her retort consumes me with anger, rage boiling to the surface. “He can’t harm her if he can’t find her.” And suddenly, it all makes sense. She sustained all these injuries, shielding her child. Who would have indeed died if she had taken the beating Haven took in her place? “He took his rage out on you because you stood in the way of his real victim,” I snap, my words more of a declaration than an inquiry. “Harry never wanted children. But then Avery was conceived. And while I do my best to keep her occupied and out of his hair, accidents happen, like when she spilled her drink on the white rug. I tried to clean it up, but it wasn’t enough,” she recounts as she brushed off her injuries. “I think we should head to the hospital and get you checked out, Haven. And then we should report him,” Austin tries to talk sense into her friend. “I appreciate your concern, but all I need is for you to take Avery. Can you please do that for me? I’ll sort things out,” Haven pleads with her friend. My veins are on fire with rage, and I can’t hold my anger any longer. “Are you out of your damn mind? You’re not going back to him. He could have killed you for crying out loud. Why the hell would you go back to that? Do you not value your life more than your daughter’s? And I can’t even begin to understand how you would leave your child after you protected the way you did.” I’m yelling and pacing around like a madman! What is wrong with her? The Haven, I know, would never put up with this kind of crap. She used to be so strong and fierce, but now….it’s like she is shattered, mere pieces of her former self. “This isn’t any of your business, Coldwell. But I have to go back. I don’t have a choice. My father’s life is on the line.” She mutters, staring at her hands on her lap and avoiding my gaze. “I can’t believe you’re considering going back there, Haven. Nobody should have to put up with that kind of living situation. How many times have you gone through this?” I said, exasperated, kneeling in front of her. A tear streams down her face, and I angrily swipes it away. “But if I don’t return, my father will die,” Haven says, looking up from her hands, and I see the truth in her eyes. What the actual fu**?