Uncaged Hearts Read online




  Uncaged Hearts

  Sloane Easton

  Copyright 2017

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  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Declan

  I glanced into the rear-view mirror at Katie, seeing her posture grow tense as we entered the school grounds.

  I hoped the first day of third grade would be a lot better for Katie. A lot kinder. Her previous grade had been difficult to say the least.

  If anyone could use a little kindness, it was Katie Monroe. She had lost her mother when she was barely old enough to walk, resulting in her being on the verge of entering the foster system before I adopted her.

  She had no immediate family, so I had chosen to take her in, feeling responsible after having saved her from the fire that claimed her mother seven years ago. I didn’t know what I was doing as I had no parental experience, but at the very least I knew I had to do something.

  Now if only I could get this parenting thing down and help her overcome her deep dislike for school…

  “Katie, honey,” I called out over my shoulder as I pulled into the parking lot. “Do you have everything you need for today?” I knew it was a dumb question; we had already checked, but I wanted to get her talking.

  I held my breath, silently urging her to verbally answer, but instead she just nodded her head.

  I sighed. “Book bag?”

  She nodded.

  “Lunch bag?”

  Again, she nodded.

  I forced a smile and carefully reached back to ruffle the tight curls on Katie’s head, being careful not to move too quickly so she knew I intended no harm. It had taken us years to get to this point where she would allow affectionate gestures. I felt like a small battle had been won when she accepted the hair ruffle before exiting my old pickup. “See you soon, sweetie,” I called out after her as she hesitantly walked up the steps.

  I didn’t want to embarrass her and make her feel like a big baby, yet I lingered until she had entered the building and disappeared from my sight before I drove off.

  Who would have thought that I, Declan Monroe, renegade firefighter with over fifteen years of experience under his belt, would turn out to be an overprotective parent? At least I could find a little humor in it.

  The others back at the fire station would laugh at me, seeing my burly self melt at the sight of the little girl I had rescued. Regardless, it was one of my small blessings in life, being able to raise a child who I could call my own. If only I wasn’t plagued with the constant worry that I would fail where I wanted to succeed most in parenting her.

  Katie had turned eight over the summer but was unlike any girl her age. Although I made sure to give her the best life I could, she still struggled with speech and socializing after all these years. I didn’t blame her, considering the things she had endured at such a young age, but still, I wanted more than anything else for her life to be normal. For her to be happy.

  *

  I headed back home with every intention of enjoying my time off. It was one of the downsides of my job, working a full 24-hour day then getting 48-hours off. It had proven to be especially difficult as a single parent, but with the help of a sitter in the form of Mrs. Gardener next door, I managed for the most part. My only regret was that I didn’t have as much time to spend with Katie as I wanted.

  I turned up the AC as I entered my home, the stifling Californian heat still lingering this time of year. At least I lived in Cypress Beach, where a cool ocean breeze and wide expanse of shady trees cut down on the heat just enough to make it tolerable. That wasn’t to say we weren’t still at risk for wildfires, but it was September so winter wouldn’t be too far off.

  I sat on my couch for a few minutes and stared ahead. I never knew what to do with myself when I was all alone, and I really wasn’t the type to kick back and relax.

  That was when an idea struck me: I could get Katie a little pick-me-up for after school. Cake was just about the only thing that got her visibly excited, so I decided to head to the nearby bakery and grab her the pinkest, most flowery cake I could find.

  I had no qualms about spoiling her rotten. She was anything but poorly behaved, so it wasn’t like it ever went to her head.

  Considering the bakery was just a short distance from home, I didn’t bother driving there. I simply walked, enjoying the sun all the while. Once I reached the small shop I noticed a group of women headed to the same destination. I stopped to hold the door open for them, giving them a polite smile as they thanked me.

  One of the women was quite stunning, in that blonde, tanned, blue-eyed sort of way that most guys would have killed for the opportunity to date.

  Except I wasn’t most guys.

  I could appreciate a beautiful woman just as well as anyone else, but my admiration ended there. My close friends and family knew what my preferences were, though the average stranger would have me pinned for a lady’s man. I had figured out a long time ago where my preferences stood, and I explored them rather thoroughly in my younger adult years.

  However, things had changed. Most things in my life had since been divided into a ‘Before Katie’ and ‘After Katie’ segment.

  Before Katie, I enjoyed hitting the bars and having a fun time with other similarly minded young men.

  After Katie, I had lost interest in the entire scene as I struggled to provide her the stability she needed. Taking responsibility for her made me grow up enough to know that my glory days were behind me. And, oddly enough, I wasn’t unhappy about it. All I wanted now was a life with Katie and possibly, someday, a long-term relationship. Something steady. Something real.

  I just wondered sometimes how long I’d have to wait for that.

  *

  When I picked up Katie after school, I noticed a hint of a smile on her face. She even maintained eye contact long enough to say, “Hi, Dad.”

  Well, well. Would wonders ever cease?

  “Hi, kiddo. I take it your first day wasn’t so bad after all?”

  Katie shrugged and ceded, “Yeah, guess it wasn’t so bad.”

  “I’m glad to hear it!” I said, craning my neck to smile brightly at her as she settled into the back seat. “You make any friends, then?”

  Katie looked away and grew silent. It seemed like she was about to open her mouth to answer when a car behind me honked and interrupted her.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m moving,” I grumbled as I tried to keep myself from making any obscene gestures at the impatient parent behind me. “Buckle up, honey.”

  Katie did, then returned to silence as I pulled out of the school parking lot. I wondered, almost desperately, if she had made any friends or not. The previous year she had kept to herself, and I really didn’t want that trend to continue. At the same time, however, I didn’t want to stress her out by forcing her to socialize when she wasn’t ready yet.

  It was such a difficult balancing act, trying to raise a well-adjusted child…


  But something strange happened again the next school day.

  And the school day after that, and the one after that again.

  Katie kept hopping into my truck with a smile plastered on her face.

  I hadn’t dared to say a word when each subsequent afternoon I picked her up, her smile grew bigger and wider until it now practically split her face.

  It was one of those smiles which did strange things to the heart. A sight so rarely seen from such a young soul that I melted each time she smiled at me and I wished I knew the cause. Whenever I tried to ask, Katie would go silent, like she was embarrassed or had a secret. A crush on a boy, perhaps? I had no idea.

  But I welcomed any progress I could get, and whichever deity had brought about this change, I sincerely wanted to thank it and would happily go so far as to sacrifice a goat if it would keep the miracles coming.

  Because my Katie was improving.

  Call it coincidence or call it divine intervention, but over the last couple of weeks, not only had she seemed less anxious to get to school, but she hummed under her breath and sang to herself constantly.

  It was bewildering.

  What had changed? I kept asking myself.

  And whatever it was, could I trust it?

  The miracles continued, and after two more weeks, Katie started recounting her day to me after school, her stammer becoming less and less apparent.

  Today she told me about how some little boy named Tommy had traded her a candy bar for one of her cookies. She didn’t eat it yet because Mr. Davis confiscated the candy until it was home time, she said.

  “And,” Katie continued, excited to report, “This girl named Mary, she had forgotten her homework and Mr. Davis said that he was going to call her parents tonight. She laughed at me once when I tripped during recess, so I hope she gets a big talking-to.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. “Well, I do too then.”

  “Oh, and Mr. Davis said he’s going to call you tonight also,” Katie recalled out loud as I pulled up in front of our house.

  “Oh? I hope you haven’t been misbehaving too…”

  “I’ve been good. He just says he wants to meet you.”

  As we headed into the house, I wondered if this Mr. Davis was the key factor in Katie’s improvement. I certainly have heard his name a lot lately.

  The phone call came after dinner, and oddly enough I was a bit nervous about answering. What did Katie’s teacher want, anyway? Though Katie acted like it’d be a friendly meeting, I couldn’t help but worry this teacher would have some criticisms in store for me.

  His voice was cool, professional. “Mr. Monroe?”

  “Yes, Mr. Davis, I take it?”

  “Yes, I’m just calling to see if we could arrange a parent-teacher meeting tomorrow?”

  “Did Katie do something wrong?”

  The man chuckled, as if the suggestion was absurd. “Hardly. Though I would like to discuss a few matters. Preferably in person, privately, after school.”

  He didn’t seem keen on giving me any hint as to whether this discussion would be a positive or a negative one, so I simply said, “Yes, after school sounds perfect.”

  I heard a sudden loud screeching on his end, and he exclaimed, “Shush, Hamlet! No!” before hurriedly stammering, “Oh, uh, s-sorry about that. Okay, well, talk to you then.” The screeching had yet to stop, and I heard Mr. Davis’s phone rattle as he tried to hang up.

  When the line went dead I removed the phone from my ear and frowned at it. “Huh…” And here I thought I had issues. My nervousness gave way to curiosity. Curiosity about the handsome, troubled voice I had heard just moments before.

  Now I was looking forward to this meeting…

  Chapter 2

  Ivan

  After I finished my call with Katie’s father, I shot Hamlet a look of disapproval. That parrot seemed to know when I most wanted him to be quiet—because that was when he’d make the biggest fuss. Normally he’d do something more creative than just screeching, but he wasn’t getting the attention he desired tonight.

  I had to admit it, when I heard Mr. Monroe’s voice, my attention honed in entirely on the phone. Usually these calls were rather routine, and I’d do housework and the like as I took care of them, but this one I had to sit down for.

  What a voice this man had. A commanding voice, the type you stopped everything you were doing to listen to.

  Until your annoying parrot had other ideas.

  I headed for Hamlet’s cage with my teeth clenched, and he eyed me innocently. “P-peanut?” he asked, knowing I was at the end of my patience with him.

  I sighed. “Yes, but it’s the last one for the day.” I handed him his requested nut then pulled down a blanket over his cage so he’d go into nighttime mode.

  Yeah, Hamlet was a pain in the ass, but I did have a special place in my heart for the little bastard.

  Without him, this house would be utterly silent.

  It already was pretty empty.

  Homey, sure. And elegantly furnished.

  But in the dark corners of my house, I saw the shadows of solitude. They came and went at random and mostly stayed gone, but tonight something about this empty house reminded me that I had been alone for most of my adult life and was likely to remain that way.

  I had friends, sure. And a deeply satisfying job.

  But there was something missing.

  I turned off the patio light and headed to the smaller of the guest bedrooms I had converted into a library. There I kept my most valued treasures: my books. They were waiting for me when I entered, the half-dozen shelves ceiling-high and crammed on both sides with volumes ranging in sizes and colors.

  I caressed a few spines as I walked along the shelves, reading names such as Hemingway and Austin as I went. For a moment I wanted to linger and get lost in the words of my favorite authors, but tonight it would have to wait. I had lessons to plan, so I walked over to the desk waiting at the far corner instead.

  Growing up, books had been my life, and now I had many.

  With each failing relationship, my books were always there for me to immerse myself into and forget about reality. With each failed date, I had found comfort and solace in the dusty old tomes that had never judged me or found me lacking.

  I had my books, my teaching, my bird, and I was happy.

  And if it wasn’t meant to be that I would ever find someone to build a meaningful relationship with, then I would be as equally happy.

  At least, that was what I kept telling myself in the quiet of the night.

  *

  The next day I grabbed Hamlet’s travel cage from the back of my car and jogged up the long line of steps into the school. I barely made it before the first bell rang for class.

  I grinned.

  I felt like an errant student who had just made it in the nick of time on a Friday morning. I couldn’t help but sympathize with all the not-so-fortunate children who hadn’t yet arrived. Perhaps it was the relaxed atmosphere of the town or that the school was perched right along the seaside, but the last time I had seen anyone hurry to anything was at least a decade ago. I felt as if I were breaking some cardinal rule as I jogged along.

  The first line of business today was getting Hamlet settled in his usual spot. After that, I needed to prepare for my meeting today.

  I had been serious when I had called Mr. Monroe last night and told him that a discussion about Katie needed to be done at the soonest possible time.

  Mr. Monroe seemed confused on the phone as to why I had called a meeting, and I hoped I reassured him well enough that it wasn’t anything disciplinary.

  Katie wasn’t a troublemaker by any extent of the imagination. I mean, how could she start trouble when she rarely talked? That wasn’t to say she hadn’t made excellent progress so far during the month of September, but she was still a long way from acting like the average kid her age. I wanted to see her blossom, and I had a few ideas on how perhaps I could help wit
h that.

  *

  I had arranged the meeting to be during my hour-long break in the middle of the day. Mr. Monroe arrived right on time, which I liked. And I also liked how he strolled into my classroom like he owned the place before he promptly took a seat.

  I had always hated the awkward first encounters with my students’ parents. Experience had taught me that most parents were immediately on the defensive when I called them in. That, or they came in prepared for a fight. I soon realized, however, that Mr. Monroe had neither an aggressive nor defensive air about him.

  “First,” I began, “I must say thanks for coming in so promptly.” I stood to shake his hand in greeting.

  I was surprised to note that Mr. Monroe’s handshake was less firm than I would have expected from the buff, scruffy man who stood at least three inches taller than me.

  At six feet, my height wasn’t anything to scoff at, but Mr. Monroe stood even taller.

  And as a gym enthusiast, I was no scrawny lad myself, but Mr. Monroe was somehow even more buffed out than me.

  It was as though someone out there in the universe had decided to play a silly joke on me, and gave Mr. Monroe just a little bit extra of whatever I myself had.

  My blond hair was a tousled mess most days while his brunette hair looked stylishly windswept. I had blue eyes while Mr. Monroe’s eyes were bluer. I wondered if perhaps they were contact lenses given that Katie herself had big expressive brown eyes which had earned her the nickname ‘Little Doe.’

  In fact, his entire coloring was off.

  I had been so entranced by the man that I only now put two and two together, realizing that Katie must’ve been adopted.

  I had often tried speaking to Katie about her home life but I had never gotten very far as it was the one topic the little girl was close-mouthed about. Not even ol’ Hamlet had been able to get Katie to talk about her parents, nor had the other kids had much luck either. And the only reason I hadn’t gone to the office to peek into her file yet was because I wanted to get an honest opinion about her folks without it being colored through the lens of Katie’s former teachers.

  I sat back down and pulled the chair in closer to my desk, feeling both silly and nervous.