Hearts and Flowers (Hearts Series Book 2)

  Hearts and Flowers

  By A.M. Brooks

  Copyright © 2019 A.M. Brooks

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. Thank you for respecting the hard work and creativity of this author.

  Note: This story may not be suitable for persons under the age of 18.

  Book design by Inkstain Design Studio

  Cover design by Sofie Hartley- Hart and Bailey Design Co.

  Edited by Ellie McLove

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Books by A.M. Brooks

  My Family- For supporting this crazy adventure. You have been my biggest fans and biggest support network. I have been able to continue because of your belief in me and the stories I can create.

  Kiki and Colleen- The Next Step PR -Thank you for your hard work, dedication, and guidance. I would be lost without your check-ins and reminders. The only reason these book releases get pulled off is because of both of you. I truly appreciate it and I enjoy working with you both.

  Ellie, My Brother’s Editor: For taking my words and making them readable. I appreciate your hard work and always being up front and honest with me. I enjoy working with you and the flexibility you have for new*ish authors.

  Nadège Richards, Inkstain Design Studio: Another beautiful book! Thank you! I appreciate your flexibility and managing to get me on your schedule.

  Sofie Hartley, Hart and Bailey Design Co: For designing this beautiful cover. The Hearts Series is complete!

  My beta readers: I’m sorry for not always being organized, but I promise as we go on it will get better. Thank you for your positivity and willingness to critique if needed. I appreciate your time and putting yourselves out there to help a girl out.

  My readers: Wow…I’m humbled if you are reading this and you actually like the series. This is a dream come true for me in every way. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to Darrian and Nora’s rollercoaster of a romance.

  King by Synz

  Kings Dead by Jay Rock, Kendrick Lamar, Future, James Blake

  3:15 by Bazzi

  Nobody Else But You by Trey Songz

  Better Now by Post Malone

  Whatcha Say by Jason Derulo

  Low Life by X Ambassadors

  Moving Mountains by Usher

  Make Me Proud by Drake/ Nicki Minaj

  Green Light by Lorde

  Two Weeks by FKA twigs

  Bitter Love by Pia Mia

  Mascara by Niykee Heaton

  Knees by Bebe Rexha

  Alone by Halsey, Big Sean, Stefflon Don

  Without Me by Halsey

  Russian Roulette by Rihanna

  Love N Hennessy REMIX by A. CHAL, 2 Chains, Nicky Jam

  Big Deal by Kid Ink

  I Just Want It All by Kid Ink

  Till I Die by Machine Gun Kelly

  Put On by Jeezy/ Kanye West

  Taste by Tyga/ Offset

  Horns by Bryce Fox

  River by Bishop Briggs

  You Don’t Own Me by Grace/ G-Eazy

  I Was Never There by The Weeknd/Gesaffelstein

  Wait by Maroon 5

  Collider by X Ambassadors

  Rock Star by Chamillionaire/ Lil Wayne

  8 Letter by Why Don’t We

  OMG by Camila Cabello

  Bout You by Xuitcasecity

  Drunk Enough To Say That I Love You by PLVTINUM

  No Love by August Alsina/ Nicki Minaj

  Need Somebody by Xuitcasecity

  Bad Guy by Billie Eilish

  Criminals by Xuitcasecity/No Sleep

  Blackout by Freya Ridings

  The Wave by Colouring

  Dedicated to:

  My 9th & 11th Grade English teacher,

  My love for reading was revived after your guidance and “tough love.”

  Also, thank you for helping get into college ;)

  The base shakes the floor beneath my bed as I inhale in and breathe a dense cloud of smoke out. Another party, another night where people pretend they know you, pretend you’re friends and they feel so honored to be here. You’d think I’d actually want to be present at my own party at my own house but fuck it. All I want these days is to sit in the drug-induced haze and forget. Forget about sun-kissed dark locks, eyes that hold too much expression, and a mouth that whispered the three words I’d been running from. I love you. My fists ball up in anger. The feelings aren’t going away. The betrayal that flashed across her beautiful face won’t go away. I push it down and set it aside. I need to remember her family tried to fuck with mine. It had to be done. Although the aftermath hasn’t been too pretty. A full out investigation into King Corp. was launched by government officials. People were panicking, thinking they were losing their jobs or worse, that my family was going under. Yeah right. Never would Charles King let anyone close enough to destroy his empire.

  Laughing to myself, I take another hit, exhaling before laying back. The base thuds through my chest, drowning out the silence. I can feel my organs shaking inside my body with each vibration.

  “Dude!” Ethan barges into my room, Elijah following behind, closing the door. “You need to get the fuck up. I’ve been calling you for two hours.”

  “Cuz, get the hell out.” I wave him away, my response slow now that the drugs are hitting my system.

  “You need to watch the goddamn news,” he shouts, flipping my TV on.

  “And tonight’s top story, from Araminta, California, where family-owned company King Corporation has new revelations to the devastation that rocked the small town just two weeks prior. Jodi to you…”

  I sit up as the camera pans to Ethan and Elijah’s aunt who is standing outside an airport runway.

  “Thank you, Sara. Yes, a few weeks ago, we brought you the story first that King Corporation had taken a financial hit when a colleague was suspected of embezzling millions of dollars from the company’s clients. Tonight we’re here to bring the sought after truth which comes after Mr. King’s longtime partner, Anders Jackson, has been arrested after attempts to flee the country.”

  I sit up straighter, leaning closer to the TV like it’s going to help me hear better.

  “Mr. Jackson’s clients had stepped forward in the investigation and painted prosecutors a very different picture. It was just hours ago Mr. Jackson attempted to leave on his private jet at this small airspace right behind me. He has since been arrested and we are told the pending charges against Mark Sutton will be dropped.” Her voice fades out as my dad’s image fills the screen expressing condolences, disbelief, and delivering a strong message about King Corp. I don’t hear it though. I’m still stuck on the part about charges being dropped against Mark Sutton.

  “He’s innocent?” I ask dumbfounded. Ethan is shaking h
is head while Elijah just watches me.

  “Yes! It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, man,” Ethan says as he walks over to my window to crack it open. I keep staring at him, letting everything process.

  Her words, the tears, her face haunting me. It was all for nothing. My chest constricts when realization hits. It was all for nothing. The big elaborate plot to run Mark Sutton and his daughter out of town was for nothing.

  “Where are my keys?” I stand quickly, grabbing my shirt and pulling it quickly over my head. I check under my pillow and on my dresser and nothing.

  “D, you shouldn’t be driving right now, man,” Elijah says from his spot over by the door. Somewhere in my mind, the words register, but I disagree. I need to find Nora. It was all for nothing.

  “Where is she?” I ask Ethan. If anyone knows, it’s him.

  “They’re in Seattle with her aunt,” he says, holding up his hand in front of me, stopping my progress. I growl.

  “Seriously Cuz, you shouldn’t drive right now. Wait ‘til tomorrow, I’ll ride with you.”

  Not waiting, I push him aside and barrel down the hallway. My vision tilts, but I keep going. Soft skin, breathy moans, and her heart-shaped mouth fill my mind. The need to find her intensifies. It was all for nothing. I don’t even know what I’ll say to her, but I need her to come back to Araminta. I know I ruined things a million different ways, but she’ll have to forgive me when she knows why I did what I did. I feel like that’s all I ever do with Nora. I always mess up and explain why after.

  Jesus, my house is fucking crowded when all I want to do is get to my Jeep. I begin pushing people out of the way until I get to the door. I’m aware I stagger down the front steps, I keep blinking my eyes trying to regain focus. That last hit though.

  “D!” I hear Elijah shout, but it’s already too late. I’m way ahead of him, pulling out onto the street that will get me to the major highway. I’m not aware that my speed climbs as I drive down the street and beat curbs with my tires. Guilt racks through me, a foreign feeling, but it’s there lurking. My own words haunt me from that night.

  “Fuck!” I bang my hands against the steering wheel over and over, my speed increasing with every hurt look on her face stashed in my memory. My private bank where I kept all the information I needed to keep her but to hold her at a distance. Because I’m a King and I’m leaving for college. Love? I didn’t have time for it, but something about the hidden pain in her hazel eyes, the innocent giggle, and the tight way she squeezed around me had broken me.

  The road curves suddenly, my brain is slow to process between the drugs and the memories of the girl I realize I love, I fight to keep my attention on the road. My hands jerk the wheel reflexively, causing my back wheels to whip too far right when I try to correct again, sending the Jeep, tires squealing, straight into the cement blockade. Pain shoots down my leg and across my chest. I’m vaguely aware of the warm trickle, probably blood, dripping onto my cheek. I blink again, trying to clear my mind and focus. It’s hard to concentrate, it’s almost painful to breathe. Black edges my vision, I shake my head to push it away, to ignore the car alarm blaring and echoing around me. I can’t fight the weight that wants to pull me under. I just want to see her face. I can’t win. I don’t feel anything before my eyes close and I lose.

  “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Ethan asks me again as he swings his truck into the empty parking spot closest to the door.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell him for the fifth time since he picked me up at the house. Slowly pushing open the truck door, I turn to take the padded end of the crutches from him. I place them down on the pavement before letting my good leg touch down, next followed by my casted leg.

  “I really don’t mind, D,” Ethan lets me know. I can feel his eyes watching my jerking movements as I try to straighten my leg before moving. I love the kid, but he’s been a pain in my ass for the past three months.

  “I know,” I respond before nodding at the brick wall of the building, “I have to do this on my own though.” I can hear him let out a frustrated breath as he reaches over to slam the door closed behind me.

  “I’ll pick you up in a couple hours,” he pushes his Ray-Bans down over his eyes again before backing up. I watch him squeal the truck’s wheels out of the parking lot before hobbling my way to the dusty red doors.

  The musty smell of the basement reaches my nose. I hold my breath until I make it to the long corridor of the new addition just like every other week. I breathe again when I get into the room and take a seat in the only open chair left. Conversations around me stop for a few seconds while I get situated, the metal of the crutch brushes against the metal chair. “Sorry,” I mutter apologetically for the noise and for arriving a few minutes after the scheduled time.

  “Mr. King, thank you for joining us,” the reverend acknowledges my presence like every week and like all the other times I sag in my seat a little more. It’s no secret about my accident or the fact that I was injured, losing my scholarship and ride to UNC. Being a King though, the fact that I was under the influence was tightly sealed away by a judge who plays golf with my father. In exchange, I was sent to rehab, my license was taken by my parents for six months, and I need to be here weekly until otherwise determined. Privilege of being rich and having a father who will be pushing taking Stanford up on their offer once I’m healed, I guess. Just another bitter, heavy lie sitting on my chest. I needed some relief, something to take the edge off, to push away the pain in my leg and to make the knowing stares from the people in the room fade to nothing. Anonymous my ass.

  “Can I say something?” I ask, watching as his eyebrows raise up in shock. I’ve been here and listened to every sob story real and fake for the past two months and I never take a turn.

  “That’s what we’re here for,” he says gently. Supposedly he’s a man of God, but I see the judgmental look on his face every time he looks at me. I wonder if my father bought his silence too.

  Pushing down the shame and anger, I stand from my seat, the metal scrapes against the floor when I bend to pick up the crutches again. The room has gone silent as I make my way to the single wooden podium at the front of the room. I’ve never had a problem with public speaking. Never felt embarrassed to call someone out or to play ball in a gymnasium full of people depending on me. It never made me falter knowing scouts were there to see me play and my whole future rode on those games. I had thrived on the fear, thrill, and power. It was something different though to stand in front of this crowd, in the basement of a church, and acknowledge my greatest regret. That’s what I was supposed to do. That’s what these meetings were really about. I had acknowledged the mistake I made with my family, but I had yet to make peace with it for myself.

  “My name is Darrian King and I was addicted to drugs. I’ve been clean for sixty-eight days. I can’t say I had one drug that was my favorite, I tried everything including the B+ pill which I believed would help me play ball better and find time to manage my homework and social life. The night of my accident, I used B+, marijuana, and alcohol before driving the car. I realize now that was a stupid mistake and I’ll only ever be thankful it was only me in the car and that no one else was injured because of what I did.” Her face swims in my vision clearly even as my eyes sting with tears. I take a deep breath before continuing. “The night I hurt the girl I love, I used cocaine. I did it on purpose to hurt her and honestly because I needed it. I had tried quitting on my own but with everything else going on…” My body shudders thinking back to those days. How could I not have seen how far gone I was? My fingers flex around the podium digging in until the skin around my nails turns almost white. “I couldn’t do it.” My gaze catches with the reverend who is leaning against the back table. He’s watching me closely and I wonder if this is what confession feels like.

  “I liked using B+ and cocaine because I felt invincible. Marijuana has just always been marijuana to me. It grows in the ground, so it’s natural, right?” I laugh
to myself, shaking my head, not the right crowd, I think to myself. “Sorry,” I say before continuing. “The girl I hurt, the one I supposedly loved…she’s coming back next week. I ran her off because of a misunderstanding. I know now that what I thought happened wasn’t true. I want to see her and explain everything and beg her to take me back. I also want to get as far away from Araminta as possible so I don’t have to face her anger. I’ve even almost taken up Stanford’s offer even though I don’t want to go to school there and I know I would be miserable and probably end up right back to where I was four months ago. I guess the reason I’m here today is because she’s coming back, and I’m scared. I’m scared that I can’t fix what happened and that makes me want to use. I’m afraid she will forgive me and that also makes me want to use. I don’t know how to be a person worthy of her or if I should even try to be. Maybe I should stay away.”

  I skim my eyes over the crowd as they watch me, listening to my sob story. “When I say it out loud, it sounds petty. Like these are his worse problems? I know many of you know me and my family. I’ve heard your stories and I get it. I sound like a privileged trust fund baby. I can’t say I know what you’ve been through. I sympathize though with your addiction. Thank you for listening to me today.”

  It’s still quiet as I crutch my way back to my seat. Cold sweat creeps down my back after releasing the fear I’d been holding onto for the past two months of sitting with these people. How do you say I’m a kid who liked to party while they’re spilling their guts about how childhood abuse caused them to use so they could forget? I hate NA meetings.

  The reverend is speaking again about forgiveness. It’s his favorite speech I think because it never changes. Just like always, I zone out, reliving the conversation with my father about the money being stolen, prom, Nora’s face when she saw me with the chick who was supposed to be her friend, the pity party I threw myself for weeks after she and her dad left town, the news report, the accident, waking up from the accident…