Pieces of the Heart

Copyright © 2014 Cynthia Aguiar.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-9369-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-9371-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-9370-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013909845

iUniverse rev. date: 12/31/2013

Contents

Acknowledgements

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

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Mom…you have always given me guidance, strength, encouragement, and support. One of the greatest blessings I have ever received is having you for my mother. I could not have done this without you. I love you.

Tami Mac…thanks for your honesty, perspective, and time. But above all else…thanks for your friendship.

My sister…After my car accident I was going insane with boredom. You gave me a book you had read. The book was titled Crossings by Danielle Steel. It sat untouched, next to the recliner I was bound to, for several days. After watching so many hours of MTV and replaying my VHS recording of the mini-series North and South, (it was the 80’s) I finally picked up that book. I have been hooked ever since. Thanks, I love you.

My husband …you are my compass, my anchor, and my safe place. I would be lost without you. I love you.

My Gal Pals…if friends were a garden I would have the most beautiful, vibrant, amusing, and imaginative lot anyone has ever seen.

Prologue

Everything happens for a reason, Rachel. Her father’s words rang in her ear. The first time she heard those words she was just a child, but she was no longer a child and there was no reason for any of it, she thought angrily staring into the night sky. She forced her eyes closed, pulled her cloak tighter around her, and let the back of her head rest against the thick trunk of the tree she had strategically positioned herself in.

She never dreamed her life would turn into this. Whatever her dreams may have been, they were now buried with her William. Never had she imagined becoming what or who she was now. And who was she? She no longer recognized her own reflection. The hazel eyes that looked back at her were once warm and full of life. The eyes that looked at her now were cold and hollow, shadowed by the emptiness inside her. But what did it really matter now anyway? Her life, her future, and her dreams were in pieces. Pieces that she would never be able to put back together again. Everything so cruelly and senselessly taken from her, and for what reason? She didn’t know and perhaps she never would, but the one thing she was certain of was that she would send those responsible for it straight to the devil himself.

She opened her eyes and looked through the soon to be leafless branches of the tree she was perched in. Her gaze fixed on the crescent moon that hung carelessly in the night sky and thought to herself, killing them should have been more difficult, but it was too easy. So easy, in fact, it frightened her, but it no longer mattered. After all, it was these vile, godless men who had taken everything from her. They had made her what she was now and they would reap what they had sown.

She tried desperately to remember what life was like before that awful night, but every time she dared to remember, the feelings of loss and helplessness were more than she could bare. She thought, or possibly hoped, that when this was over, and it very nearly was, she would be able to live out the rest of her life in peace, if God would let her.

She drug her hand across her face rubbing at her weary eyes with long, nimble fingers. She could not remember the last time she had more than just a few hours’ sleep. The nightmares were coming more frequently and were much more unbearable of late. Would there ever come a day, or night, for that matter, when she would no longer see the horror of her beloved husband being beaten until there was no life left in him? Would she never be deaf to the sound of her own screams? Strangely, through it all, she felt somehow disconnected, as if she were floating, watching it happen from somewhere high above all the chaos. Every night brought with it the terror, hatred, and loathing she felt the night it all happened. The fever of it still burned hot in her veins.

She struggled continually with the overshadowing darkness that threatened to consume her. She tried desperately to remember the love she had shared with William. It was warm and beautiful. The child that was created by that love, but taken from her before it had the chance to draw its first breath. The child that would never be given the chance to feel a mother’s love or know a father’s joy. God how she missed her William. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, remembering his embrace and the tender way he spoke her name. She could almost feel the gentle touch of his hand softly brush against her cheek. She missed the twinkle in his sky blue eyes when he smiled at her. She cursed herself when she felt a tear roll slowly down her face.

Stop that or you’ll get yourself killed you idiot, she quietly berated herself, vehemently wiping the single tear that fell from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. It had been so long since she let herself feel anything but hate. She had to hold on to her anger for just a while longer. She drew her strength from it, her determination, and her sanity. She knew deep down that if she let go of it all, she would fall apart.

She had to stay focused on the task at hand, and to do that she needed to remain avidly aware of her surroundings. She couldn’t lose her focus now. Not now. She hadn’t come this far to fail in her quest for vengeance. Tonight would be the end of it. She would have revenge for the lives that were taken from her. The husband she had loved and the precious child that would be forever lost to her.

Chapter 1

It was well into fall and the trees were quickly losing their burnt orange and red leaves. In the dark of night, however, it was enough to hide her from passersby. The last of the autumn sun had winked goodnight hours ago, so the road would not be traveled heavily or at all in these late hours.

This is where she would wait. Her dark cloak wrapped around her like a cocoon, sitting on a low thick branch in expectation of her unsuspecting prey. Her mind always plotting and calculating her next move. She knew they would pass by her, under this tree, along this road, on their way to the next village to indulge themselves in liquor and women. She had been tracking them for months now. All that was left for her to do was to be patient and stay alert, watching and waiting for that perfect moment.

They were no longer men to her, no longer human. She saw them only as untamed beasts, wild animals that had to be hunted down and killed before they senselessly attacked again.

She felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickle when she heard the dull sound of the horses’ hooves thudding along the hard packed dirt road. At this moment she had to become the huntress, placing all her feelings and emotions deep down inside herself where they would stay until the task was complete.

She sat as quiet and still as a night owl waits for the mouse. She turned her head slightly, freeing her ear from the hood of her thick cloak, straining to hear the mindless chatter of the two men. When she left them at the tavern, they had become very loud. Their speech beginning to slur with overindulgence. They had stopped in the village, as was their routine, to indulge in whiskey and wicked immoral acts, but this particular tavern did not see to the pleasures of men and she knew they would not be staying long. She was always careful not to be noticed. Keeping to the shadows, watching and waiting.

She thought briefly of the other men. The brutality they inflicted upon those around them. She hated sitting in the corner of the taverns watching them pull and pinch and slap the poor serving girls, as if to pleasure a man was their only purpose in life.

A sardonic smile crossed her lips as she remembered the events of that night, in that shabby little tavern, so many months ago.

Rachel sat in the shadowy corner of the seedy little tavern, snuffing out the single candle that sat in its rusted holder in the middle of the small rickety square table, with her with her thumb and forefinger. She observed with concealed revulsion, once again, the vulgar and crude behavior of the men she referred to as dogs. The girl serving them looked so young. She still carried the hint of those precious childhood freckles left behind by the kiss of the sun. She could not have been more than fourteen years of age.

The young girl called the man behind the bar papa, so she could only assume this wretch of a man was the girl’s father. He was short and fat and his clothes were in need of a good washing. He smelled of sweat and stale whiskey and what little hair he had left on his square head, was greasy and hung down past his shoulders, tied back with a very thin strip of leather.

From the shadows Rachel watched as the girl looked to her papa with pleading eyes as she was pulled down to sit on the lap of one of the dogs while he slobbered on her angelic face, then crudely push her to the floor when he was done entertaining himself.

Rachel’s blood ran hot when she saw the look of irritation the young girl’s papa had given her. He jerked his head to one side, signaling that she was to go in to the kitchen. When the girl disappeared behind the door, the ugly bearded bastard that had thrown the girl to the floor, rose from his seat and sauntered drunkenly over to the bar keep. She could not hear the words that were spoken, but she did see the small purse of coins that exchanged hands before the he returned to his seat. The barkeep quickly disappeared behind the door that led to the kitchen and reappeared moments later, pulling the young girl harshly by her upper arm.

Rachel watched as the girl’s head briskly shook back and forth and fear filled her pale blue eyes. The bearded man looked crossly over his shoulder at the barkeep and the barkeep smiled back assuredly. She watched in total disgust as the girl was forced to continue serving the pack of dogs.

The hour had grown late as the bearded dog bid goodnight to his intoxicated companions. His drunken red eyes moved to meet the barkeeps who nodded in response as the wretch left the table and climbed the stairs to the dingy room for which he had paid for. The other men finished their drinks before stumbling up the narrow staircase as well.

The barkeep called to the young girl, and from her small table in the corner among the shadows, Rachel could see the tears growing in the girl’s eyes.

Rachel’s heart pounded at the realization of the young girl’s fate. The girl’s father had sold her body to that pig of a man for his perverted pleasure.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed and her clenched jaws twitched. She could not and would not allow this to happen to the helpless young girl. She had seen the women at the taverns who had willingly given themselves for coin, allowing a strangers hands to roam over their bodies for the promise of earning some extra coin in private. She did not know their plight, or the circumstances that had taken them to such a low place, she was not one to judge those women. The world could be a cruel place and people would do what they must to survive. But this poor girl was being used by someone who should have loved and protected her.

Rachel’s anger had become the catapult to her strength and she willingly embraced it.

Girl! She called out in a low raspy tone, disguising her voice as best as she could, holding up her empty glass. The barkeep held the young girl back, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and started toward her himself. Rachel held up her fingerless, leather gloved hand, ordering him to stop, then dropped a small bulky coin purse on the table with a thud. When Rachel pointed to the girl, motioning with her forefinger for her to come, a wicked smile crossed the barkeep’s face. He quickly shoved the bottle into the girl’s hand and let go of the skinny arm his dirty fingers held their grasp. The young girl moved reluctantly over to the small table in the corner.

I can take you away from here. A place you will be safe, Rachel said under her breath as the young girl filled her empty glass with trembling hands.

The girl stiffened at the sound of the whispered voice. You’re a woman? she said surprised.

The hood of the cloak still hung low over Rachel’s eyes. Take the purse to the wretch behind the bar and wait for me at the top of the stairs if you wish to leave this place. Do not enter the bearded man’s room. I will take care of him. Tell your Papa he is not to disturb me before noon tomorrow.

The girl looked down at the bag of coins with uncertainty and quickly back at the hooded patron.

Take it, Rachel said with a slight nod of her head. It will be all right.

The frightened girl warily picked up the small bag. Rachel watched her walk back to the bar and hand the purse to her papa relaying the request that had been given. The girl’s papa looked toward Rachel once again with that horribly wicked smile. She quickly decided she would deal with the girls papa first. He sent the girl on her way, and she reluctantly obeyed.

When the young girl had climbed the stairs, Rachel stood from her chair in the shadows and crossed the short distance to the bar. The barkeep began to speak nervously as Rachel slowly made her way behind the bar, leaving the hood of her cloak hanging low to conceal her face.

The girl will see to you as soon as the first gentleman is done with her. She will be well worth the price. Do with her what you wish. I only ask that you not leave any marks on her skin. I get more money for her if she is without blemish, the barkeep blathered on nervously.

Rachel’s grip tightened on the dagger she held in her hand hidden under the sleeve of her cloak. She had to control her anger. She could not let it control her or she would lose her edge.

You are a swine, she growled, lifting her head to reveal herself to him.

You….You’re a woman!

Rachel gave him a cunning smile and narrowed her eyes.

Well, this will be a first for my girl, he said with a sickening grin. Sorry, what was that you said? The barkeep asked nervously, not quite sure of her low spoken words.

Have you any rope? she asked, taking a small step closer.

N… now I…I told you no marking of her skin. It brings down the price, he stammered.

She tossed several more coins on the bar. Will this help to ease your worry?

He licked his dry cracked lips as his eyes quickly glanced from the scattered coins that landed carelessly across the bar before turning his beady eyes back to Rachel.

I’ll be right back.

He quickly returned with a long strand of rope and handed it to her. Before the fool knew what was happening, she had her dagger pressed to his throat.

What game is this? he said crossly, wincing when the point of the blade pricked his skin.

Turn around, she said through clenched teeth.

He narrowed his eyes in defiance.

Turn around, or I will slice your throat open where you stand.

The barkeep swallowed audibly and when he turned around, Rachel grabbed his hands and quickly tied them behind his back before pushing him roughly through the kitchen into a small storage closet in the back.

Lie down on the floor, face down. Rachel said, sticking the point of her dagger into the small of his back.

What do want of me? I have done nothing! The barkeep began to ramble on as he dropped to his knees and flopped onto the dirt floor.

She didn’t answer him immediately. Her hands worked quickly to bind his feet. She was running out of time. The bearded dog must surely be growing impatient.

She took his bound feet, bent them up behind his back, and fastened them to his hands as he continued with his inane ramblings. She looked around quickly, spied a dirty cloth on one of the dusty shelves, and shoved it in his mouth.

Shut up swine and listen. I am taking the girl with me. She is dead to you as of this moment. If you try to find her and bring her back to this den of pigs, I will return and finish what I have left undone. Do you understand?

The hog tied barkeeps eyes were wide as he nodded his head in agreement.

Rachel quickly closed the small door behind her, shoving the back of a chair up under the door handle to keep it locked.

She had just come out of the kitchen and passed the bar, grabbing the loose coins and both purses that were left on the bar as payment for the young girl when she heard a scream. She uttered a curse under her breath and ran up the stairs, her dagger held firmly in her hand.

The door to the chamber that the girl had been dragged into had not latched properly. Rachel moved close to the door and heard every detestable word the rutting fool spoke to the girl.

First, I’m going to spank you for making me have to come and get you, he said wickedly.

The poor girl’s eyes were filled with terror, and she trembled as he pulled her across his lap and began lifting her skirts.

Rachel had to move quickly.

She carefully opened the door, praying that it would not squeak or make noise to give her away. Luck was on her side as not a sound was made. The wretch had pulled the chair away from the wall and his large back was to the door. He spoke crudely as he raised his hand to strike the girl’s bare backside.

He never saw or heard her coming.

She came up behind him quickly, grabbed his bearded chin, and fervently jerked his head around. She heard the snap of his neck and watched as his body went suddenly limp. The girl fell to the floor with tears streaming down her freckled angelic face.

You need not fear me, Rachel said softly.

The girl pushed herself up from the floor and brushed down her skirts.

Help me get this dog into his bed.

The girl took a step back and shook her head.

It is all right, he is dead. If the others get curious as to where he is, they will think he is only sleeping off his whiskey. Do you understand?

The girl did not speak, but nodded her head. They made quick work of it and were down the stairs and out the door.

Do you ride? Rachel asked her as they approached her horse.

Again, the young girl only shook her head and her eyes were still full of fear.

Rachel smiled gently. All right, then.

She helped the girl onto her horse’s back and climbed up behind her.

Hold on here, she said, indicating the horn of the saddle. I will not let you fall, but we must make haste. And they were gone. They continued on while the young girl soon slept enclosed in Rachel’s arms.

You know I could not leave her there. The horse responded with a snort and shook his great head.

Just a while longer, I promise, she said, looking down at the blond head of curls that spilled out from the front of her cloak. And I will send you to a place where you will be safe.

Rachel rode relentlessly into the night and all the following day. There was no conversation between the two except for the young girl asking Rachel if it was normal for her not to be able to feel her backside. Rachel smiled sympathetically and assured her it was to be expected.

The sun had set, and the moon was full when she and the young girl came into the quaint