Pieces Of Heaven (Heaven & Hell Book 2)

By: Natasha Madison


To every one who fell in love and had to fight for it!



I’m sitting here on a stool in this old, run-down, dead bar called Molly’s. The smell of stale cigarettes lingers on the walls, having soaked in over the years, way before they were banned.

I swirl the brown liquid in my glass, thinking about how I got here, how much I could fuck up, even my own life.

The stool next to me moves, scraping across the floor, but I don’t take my eyes off the glass.

I don’t have to turn around to see who is sitting next to me. I know Fred, the bartender, called him. It’s what he always does when he thinks I’ve gone over the edge.

I think this is my worst bender yet, and trust me, I’ve had a lot of fucking benders. How could I not?

I’ve been here for the past five days, each day coming in at around noon, not leaving till past midnight. A couple of times I even passed out on his dirty, old couch in the office, waking in a puddle of drool with cat hair on my tongue.

Just another phase, they thought. Just another bad time. If only they fucking knew.

“So,” I hear Jackson talk. “How long is it going to last this time?” This is not our first rodeo. Jackson is the only one who has been there for me over the years.

I shrug my shoulders, not even sure of the answer myself.

“Is it Marissa? Is it Lori?” Just the mention of their names is like a stab to the heart. The pain is so unbearable I grab the glass and drink the amber liquid, hoping the burn will overpower the pain.

“Gone,” is all I say, all I can muster up.

“Gone where? Bella just spoke with her,” Jackson says.

“Sandie’s pregnant.” The thought alone makes the liquid I just swallowed down begin to climb back up.

The shocked look on Jackson’s face mimics mine when she told me.

“Had heaven in my hands and I let it go. Fucked it up. Now I’m living in hell.”

With that, I close my eyes, remembering the day I actually touched heaven.

Chapter One


The alarm is blazing somewhere, but my hand can’t seem to find the button to turn off the horrid sound.

Fuck, my head is pounding, my tongue is dry, and my stomach is rumbling. I peer one eye open. I’m never fucking drinking again.

I reach out only to touch a naked leg. What follows next is a moan that I don’t think I’ve heard before.

I raise my head to take in the room. Lavender walls with white trimming greet me. Definitely not my fucking house. The floral duvet is the second sign that I’m not in Kansas anymore. Turning to peer at the naked body next to me, I throw my head back, cursing all the saints above.

I knew going out to shoot pool with the boys wouldn’t end well. The fact that I got my ass handed to me by Thomas was the first sign to go home.

The blonde who came slinking up to me when I tried to sink the eight ball was the second sign.

The blowjob she gave me in the bathroom twenty minutes later was the fucking flashing billboard saying abort mission.

Continuing the party at her house wasn’t a good idea. Fucking her on every single surface was an even worse one.

Getting up, I try not to make a sound to wake her. Searching around the room, I don’t see any of my clothes, but it’s no surprise because she undressed me at the door. Tiptoeing out of the room, my cock lets me know he’s not on board with this plan.

Once I step foot into the living room, it looks like a tornado has passed through it. A bottle of tequila is empty on the floor. Body shots are what she called it. The couch cushions are scattered everywhere.

I find my boxers under a cushion along with a shoe, and then I scan the rest of the room and find my shirt hanging on the lamp in the corner. Snagging it off the lamp roughly as it teeters on the table, I manage to grab it right before it crashes to the floor.

“If you’re looking for your jeans, they are in the kitchen near the fridge.”

I turn to see the blonde leaning against the doorframe, naked in all her glory, her fake tits rimmed with fingertip bruises from the assault I gave them last night.

“Oh, um.” It’s all I can say while I use my shirt to cover my junk. I mean, I know she’s been intimately introduced to him.

“No need to cover up. I got my fill last night. Just close the door on your way out.” Turning to step into the bathroom, she closes the door, effectively dismissing me.

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