What the Heart Seeks

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The morning fog cleared enough for Dylan to see acres upon acres of trees. They lined the lush grounds and sheltered him from the blue sky. Nature’s beauty popped up everywhere, but only one image proved even more breathtaking than the scenery.

Heaven. The warmth of the sun seemed to fade into her smile. She’d always had a beautiful one, but then, everything about her sang to his soul. She laughed and teased him with those gorgeous eyes, eyes that turned him on, eyes that made him melt.

“Catch me.” Her angelic voice filled his ears. He savored the sound as he reached for her, determined to trap her in a bear hug. They played this game often. She would tease him. He would make some goofy face to cause her to laugh. Then he would chase her around the house or the backyard.

This time, she trotted away, calling for him to find her. He rushed toward the weeping willow as she disappeared beneath the branches, like always.

He laughed to himself. It was a poor choice for a hiding place, but she wanted him to find her. And he would. She’d have her back against the tree as she fought to contain her laughter. She never could. She always snickered loud enough to give away her location.

The moment he ducked under the dangling limbs, he peered at the trunk. He played the game, never tiring of it. As he took delicate steps, he waited for Heaven’s laughter. Right on cue, he heard her voice. Only it didn’t sound the same. A peculiar difference lay within the tone.

As he separated the limbs, his heart pounded. He drew in a deep breath and rounded the trunk. What he saw caused a gravitational tug on his heart. He fought to stay afoot.

Two figures made love against the tree. The way they intertwined made it impossible to look away. Each fluid motion was like two dancers speaking with their bodies.

The instant Dylan recognized them, his hands fell to his sides, heavy as two-ton weights. No matter how many times he blinked, the truth was plain to see. Reality left him paralyzed.

Heaven gazed into Dylan’s eyes. A second later, hers fluttered shut. The skin between her brows wrinkled. Her lips parted, and the erotic moans leaving her throat swirled around him.

Then Heaven came for Layne.

The scenery blurred. A vortex of darkness appeared before Dylan, sucking him away from the tree and the heartache. Bold blue and silver flashes zipped past him. They buzzed with a sound so piercing he cupped his hands over his ears.

His world spun. He fought against the unknown, kicking and clawing for leverage. Still, the darkness swallowed him. Why resist it? Heaven didn’t love him. Without her, nothing mattered.

All the madness coalesced within him. Then it stopped. Everything grew quiet. A room came into view, but the walls that surrounded him brought no comfort.

He was in the Lewis’s cottage, lying on the bed he and Heaven had shared.

Don’t give in to the darkness

The feminine voice resonated from every corner. He jumped from the bed, spinning in a circle to find the woman who spoke the haunting words.

“Heaven?”

The grogginess in his throat made his voice c***k. He inspected the room, waiting, praying, hoping against hope that it was all a horrible dream.

The repetitious churning in his stomach warned him that Heaven wasn't there, but hope fueled his heart. He forced himself to creep about the room, examining every nook and closet where she may be hiding. His panic increased when she didn’t answer. Perhaps he was still dreaming.

The moment his thigh brushed the corner of the dresser, he noticed worn pieces of paper. They resembled the pages inside the Tome of Souls. Folded multiple times, they lay in a black wire basket. Something about them pulsed a special message.

Turn back.

He didn’t listen. Instead, he reached forward, grasping the worn papers in his hand. As soon as he touched their aged surface, a surge of energy shot up his arm. The papers floated to the floor as he gripped his shoulder.

What the hell?

As he stared at his reflection in the mirror above the dresser, images flashed before him. Some were innocent, some wicked, and some painful. Others proved too unbearable. He snapped his eyes shut as tears escaped. Reality brought it all flooding back.

The feminine voice had been a figment of his imagination. It had to be. The woman he loved was dead.

A growl ripped from his chest as he flung his arms across the dresser, scattering bottles, vases, and picture frames onto the floor. They crashed against the carpet and shattered.

“Heaven!”

His cries reverberated off the walls. Then silence returned. He fell to his knees and glared at the shards of glass, noting the way they glistened in the light from the lamp on the nightstand. The twinkling beckoned him forward.

He grabbed one of the longer pieces and brought it closer to his face. The longer he observed it, the harder he gripped the glass. A crimson trail formed around the edges. It left a burning sensation in his palm, yet he ignored it.

The pain was tolerable, much more than the ache in his chest.

When his hand fell back to his side, the glass slid out. It plopped against the carpet as blood dripped around it. He didn’t care if he bled out. At least he would be at peace. The memories tormenting him would disappear.

Images from his recent dream plagued his mind. Though he'd never witnessed Heaven and Layne’s betrayal, countless scenarios had filled his mind ever since he discovered the truth. He’d obsessed over it.

Left with nothing but memories, he would spend his remaining days knowing that he wasn’t the last person to touch her, to feel the heat of her embrace, or the warmth of her skin under his. Layne had stolen everything from him.

So had his father.

Their recent confrontation resurfaced in his mind. His father had worn a smug expression while taunting him over Heaven falling from the cliff—a cliff Dylan had caused to break. She was dead, and they were all to blame.

How would he face life without her? Everything would be a constant reminder. Their bed. The willow trees. Their daughter.

“Addie...”

The thought of his child broke through the anguish devouring his sanity. He pushed off the floor and stood. The crib came into view, yet the solid oak furniture held nothing of importance.

“No!” He ran to the bed, gripping the rails while staring aimlessly. Where was his daughter? Had his father taken her too? The mere thought enraged him. He clung to the rails and shook the bed.

As he slammed it against the wall, the drywall cracked a second later. Gray dust erupted from the newly formed c***k. Dylan loosened his fingers from the rail and stumbled backward into the chest of drawers.

Thunder rumbled the house with such force it vibrated his chest. The storm mocked him, reminding him that his actions had brought about the current events, and still, he couldn’t take all the blame. Someone else had set this entire thing in motion, someone who was most likely celebrating his victory.

His father.

Nate’s triumph would be short-lived. As soon as Dylan located him, he’d finished what he’d started. He’d end his father’s miserable life.

As he turned toward the door, his boots crunched the shattered glass. Before this was over, he’d avenge Heaven’s death. His father would pay the price.

Perhaps Dylan would pay, too.

The front door swung wide. Dylan left the cottage in his tracks, ignoring the rain pelting his face. It stung his skin like a thousand needles. He didn’t know his father's location, but his gut warned him that Nate wasn’t far. He never was.

Bright flashes blinded him as lightning lit up the sky, but it didn’t deter him from his mission. Quick strides led him down the porch steps and onto the gravel path. By the time he made it past the row of trees separating the cottage from the house, his vision cleared.

The wind whipped his hair about his face. Rain barreled harder, drenching his clothes. It collected above his brow as he peered into the night. No moon illuminated his way, but the light near the back door showed his path.

Still, he couldn’t proceed. His mother stood beside the garage apartment staircase, her arm raised as she guarded her face against the rain. Nothing prevented the wind from tussling her hair, not even Spencer’s six-foot figure looming above her.

“Dylan, stop,” she called over the roar of the storm. “What are you doing?”

He ground his teeth together, then inched farther down the path. “Get out of this storm, Mom. You shouldn’t be out here.”

“You’re my boy,” she shouted over the wind. “I knew you were awake and in pain.”

“Pain doesn’t describe what I’m feeling.” His guttural cries made her flinch. She made an abrupt stop and backed into Spencer. Her Keeper was on guard. Two metal swords appeared behind his shoulders, but he never moved his hands from Dylan’s mom.

If Spencer was bending, it meant he saw Dylan as a threat. While part of the realization upset Dylan, he used it in his favor. “I don’t want to hurt either of you. Get out of my way.”

His mom said, “I can’t do that, sweetheart. You’re hurting. Pain is fueling your anger.”

“You know nothing about my pain. You didn’t kill your soulmate.”

His mother crept closer. “You didn’t either, Dylan. It was an accident.”

“It doesn’t matter. I caused it.”

He lifted his hands in front of his face. Electricity arced between his fingers, much like it had before he’d shot the lightning bolt that ultimately killed Heaven. He was just like his old man—a monster.

“What’s wrong with me, Mom? I’m a Seeker. I sense emotions and see with my gut. How is this possible?”

Electricity transferred between his hands as he raised them higher. The display of power drew in his mother, but Spencer yanked her back to his chest. She remained in his protective embrace, but her determination hadn’t ceased.

She said, “I can’t do anything for you until you calm down. Once you do, I’ll explain everything.”

“I don’t have time. I have to find Dad.” He didn’t wait to see if she’d argue. If he hesitated much longer, Spencer would get involved. No matter how much he didn’t want to hurt either of them, nothing would stand in his way of finding Nate.

“I’ll help you, Dylan.” His mother shouted the words as he passed her. “I’ll help you find your father.”

He assumed it was a ploy to keep him from leaving, yet something in the tone of her voice said it was true. She would help him. If anyone could locate Nate, it would be Dylan’s mom.

Pivoting toward the garage, he stopped in front of her. “Why are we waiting? Lead the way.”

“I will, Dylan, but you have to calm down. Diffuse your anger and let the storm pass. Please. Otherwise, you'll kill someone, maybe even your daughter.”

“Addie?” Her angelic face entered his mind. He didn’t deserve her, either. She’d been so upset with him for the way he treated Heaven. He’d kept her from her mother. Now she’d never feel Heaven’s touch again.

“Sweetheart, please. No matter what you’re telling yourself, your daughter needs you. She needs her daddy’s love.”

His eyes stung. He blinked away the moisture as he turned away. “And what if her daddy can’t love anymore? What if his heart is so broken, he isn’t capable of anything good?”

The house came into view and he gawked at the windows. Most were dark, except for the light coming from the kitchen. He glanced higher, to a bedroom on the upper floor. The curtains wavered as a shadow moved within them. He assumed it was Nicholas.

Had his former father-in-law witnessed him lose his temper? The pain devouring Dylan shouldn't surprise anyone, least of all Nicholas, whose daughter had died. The emotions consuming Dylan had to be consuming Nicholas too.

“You’re stronger than you think, Dylan.” The touch of his mother’s hand on his arm brought his thoughts back to their conversation. “I know it. Heaven did too. So does Adalyn. Please. Go back to the cottage and wait for twenty minutes. Give yourself enough time to shut down and clear your mind. When you’re ready, I’ll answer your questions. Then I’ll take you to see your father.”

He spun around and faced her. “You know where he is?”

She met his gaze, then peered at Spencer. Once her Keeper nodded, she shifted her attention back to Dylan. “Yes, Dylan, and you’re right. He isn’t far.”