Heartsick — Jessica N. Lane

While Carter Rossi searches frantically for his kidnapped wife and child, Jayla Rossi is forced to confront demons of her past and realities of her future. Along the way, all will learn a valuable lesson. There are few things more dangerous than secrets.



EXCERPT



I winced as my mother wiggled the bullet free of my arm. Her hands shook with nerves, but she manged to clean the wound and patch me up in record time. I'd just hung up with Francesco and Leonardo, and they'd be here, along with a couple of others, in a matter of hours.



“I'll get you something to eat,” my mother murmured. She walked into the kitchen, still wringing her hands. The sounds of drawers and cabinets opening and closing could be heard soon after. With no small amount of effort, I hefted myself from the couch and made my way to the kitchen. The counter was littered with different ingredients that had recently been liberated from the cabinets and refrigerator as if, in her anxiousness, my mother had changed her mind a thousand times about what to cook.



“I'll get them back, Mom; I promise.”



She smiled back at me, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. “I know you will, sweetheart. It's just... I'm so sorry for all of this.”



The tears she'd cried when I'd shown up at her doorstep bleeding out from a gunshot wound and given her the news about Jayla and Jorden's kidnapping threatened to make a reappearance, and I instinctively took her into my arms in an attempt to comfort her the same way she'd done for me so many times, so many years ago.



“Mom, what do you have to be sorry for? None of this is your fault.”



“But it is!” She insisted. “I should have left whatever Antonio Rossi and I shared behind in Italy. I should never have let him elbow his way into our lives here in Texas. Look what he's done to you and your sister. It's all my fault.”



The tears were freely falling now, and I had no clue what to do to stop them. On some level, I'd always know that my mother blamed herself for the effect not having a father, or more aptly, having a father like Antonio Rossi, had on Leslie and me. It made me cringe at the way I'd lashed out at her over the years, blaming her for Antonio's decision to be a dead beat dad. Though, I had no clue she was still harboring guilt over the bastard. Heartless and cold as he may have been, she'd seen something in him all those years ago that made her fall head over heels in love with him, and no one could blame her for that.



“Hey now, I'd like to think that Leslie and I turned out at least half-way decent,” I joked, desperate to lighten the mood.



It worked.



Mom giggled. “You two are amazing people.”



“And that's all because of you, Mom. You were fantastic to us. Don't ever doubt that. Either way, my current f*** ups aren't your fault. They're mine for bringing Jayla and Jorden into this life unprepared, and for the most part, unprotected, but I'm gonna make it right. I'm going after my girls, and I'm bringing them home.”



END OF EXCERPT