| |
Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die...
Those words repeated in Katrina’s head, reverberating as she gently pushed a lock of Lorenzo’s dark hair back from his forehead. His eyes remained closed through her touch, through the beeping machines, through the bustle of the medical personnel in the hallway. No amount of her willing him to open them would make it happen, Katrina knew this, but it didn’t stop her from leaning down, placing a gentle kiss on his rust-stained cheek and whispering in his ear.
“I’m here, Ren. I’m here. Just open your eyes for me, okay?”
Nothing.
Not even a twitch from his large, strong hand that she’d taken into hers as she sat upright. She smelled the disinfectant soap they’d used on him as she brought his hand up to her lips and placed a kiss in his palm, damning her heart for constricting in her chest as she did so.
“They missed a spot.” She wasn’t sure if he could hear her or feel the touch of her fingertips to his cheek before her eyes darted to the clock on the wall.
It was 10 A.M.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
She was supposed to be at the stables hiding her hungover eyes from the morning sun with oversized sunglasses. She was supposed to be laughing at Emily’s jokes over the drinks they’d shared the night before. She was supposed to be mulling over why she couldn’t seem to care about commitment to Timothy despite the fact they’d been dating for three years. She was supposed to be celebrating his latest promotion.
She wasn’t supposed to be with the man who’d shattered her heart beyond recognition, the one that had taken her years to get over. Sitting here with him, feeling the myriad of emotions in her soul, stirring up feelings she’d long since denied.
She was supposed to be having the time of her life.
Instead, she’d taken a call.
And that call had upended her entire being.
She hadn’t seen Lorenzo since he’d bailed before high school graduation, just after prom.
Just after they had...
“Ms. Carter?”
Katrina turned towards the questioning voice to see a young man standing in the doorway, not quite as disheveled as the others who had been in and out of the hospital room. His last name and title were embroidered on his white coat. Dr. Kincaid, it said. She licked her lips before she spoke.
“Trina. Please call me Trina.”
That’s what Lorenzo knew her by.
That’s who they’d asked for when she’d answered the call.
How had he known her number?
“Hello, Trina, I’m Dr. Kincaid.”
Her eyebrow involuntarily twitched, and she refrained from pointing at his coat and thanking him for stating the obvious. He held his hand out for her to shake, and she reluctantly released Lorenzo’s hand to do so. “Why hasn’t he been cleaned up thoroughly? Why is there dried blood on him?”
She wondered in a moment of panic if Lorenzo would do the same for her, speak up for her if she couldn’t speak for herself.
But she couldn’t know that; he’d taken himself out of the equation that was her life long ago.
“I assure you that he will be. They may have missed a bit after the surgery, but I will let them know.”
She swallowed though her throat tightened.
Surgery.
Dr. Kincaid added words like internal bleeding and possible brain damage to the mix, all the while the word surgery lingered in her mind.
Lorenzo had hated hospitals.
He’d said he’d rather die than undergo surgery.
“We’re not sure the length of time between the accident and when it was discovered. He’d lost a lot of blood.”
Again, the obvious as far as the blood had been stated, but Katrina focused on other words.
Accident.
Length of time.
“...did you last hear from Mr. Cade?”
“Ten years ago.”
“Pardon?”
Trina lifted her chin slightly higher and repeated herself. “Ten years ago.”
When he’d declared his love.
When she’d done the same.
And then he’d vanished without so much as a goodbye.
“Willow Creek Road isn’t the busiest—"
“I’m sorry, did you say Willow Creek Road?” Her hand was also up pausing whatever else the doctor was going to say.
There were only two houses on Willow Creek Road. One belonged to her parents, and the other... oh, the other was the place she’d first laid eyes on the boy who stole her heart.
***
“Thanks for being my plus one,” Emily said as she hugged Katrina before locking arms with her. “I can’t believe my new stepmonster has demanded a wedding. An actual wedding, here on the estate.” Emily’s voice was low as she steered her best friend around other milling guests.
“Yes, well what the bride wants,” Katrina began, then grinned, her slight dimples showing in her tanned cheeks.
“Well, that bride is hardly old enough to drink let alone marry my father.” Emily paused her tirade. “Thank you also for dressing country club style,” she added, her voice even lower as other members of the country club were present. “Stepmummy dearest will appreciate not being shown up.”
“Not too dowdy?” Katrina asked, and Emily smirked.
“Love the ponytail. Oh, and the ribbons. Very schoolgirl.”
Katrina reached up to check, and right there were the ribbons she’d had to wear for the cheerleading squad’s pictures that morning. “Give me a quick moment, okay? I need to go take these out before the ceremony starts.”
“Yeah, well don’t be startled by the wait staff, or my new foster brother, if he ever decides to come out of hiding.”
“Another one?”
“Yeah, well the last two have been such grand successes that my father couldn’t wait to add one after they were gone.”
“It’s not like they need the money.”
“No, but they sure like to look like they’re giving back to the community in some way that isn’t avoiding taxes. Be back quick, okay? I have to stay out here.”
“But you’ll save my seat.”
“That’s what best friends are for.”
Katrina weaved her way through still-arriving guests into the back of the house, where the wait staff was scattered about ensuring everything would be ready. She knew the home well and was able to find the nearest bathroom without a problem, when she noticed a young man unfamiliar to her dressed in formal wear. He stood in the shadows, his head down, his hair disheveled as if he’d just run his fingers through it. His shoulders were broad and his neck thicker, one that showed there was probably muscles beneath the suit and tie. One corner of her mouth lifted as she watched him crook his neck from side to side before he inhaled sharply and turned to walk in her direction.
“Shit,” she muttered, realizing she’d passed the bathroom, which now had a small line forming at the door.
“Problems?”
He was beside her then, his voice smooth as butter as he peered down through her with dark brown eyes and lashes Katrina would die to have. His skin was darker as well, though he wasn’t quite as tan as she. And his hands... large, probably strong, and...
“I guess not,” he said with one raised shoulder, but before he could walk away from her, she opened her mouth.
And inserted her foot.
“Ribbons,” she said. The way he turned towards her slowly, his head cocked to the side, made her pulse take off in a rush. It was too late for her to be smooth, though, as she felt her face grow hot under his scrutiny. “I just...” She pointed to the back of her head. “Need to get rid of the ribbons.”
He reached around and pulled the silken material, the ribbons now in his hand.
“Oh, there you are!” Emily’s father was suddenly beside him, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Trina, I see you’ve met Lorenzo. Wonderful. Perfect. If everyone could take your seats, please? I’m sure the bride is as excited to start this as I am.”
“Congratulations, Mr. Torrence,” Katrina said to him.
“Oh, don’t congratulate me yet, that might be bad luck. Are you coming, son?”
Through the corner of her eye, she noticed Lorenzo’s tight expression, one that was fleeting before he managed half a smile and walked off with Emily’s father, tucking the ribbons in his pants pocket as he did so.
Once in her seat, Katrina turned to Emily with wide eyes. “Wow,” was all she could manage to say.
“Wow, what wow?”
Katrina leaned in closer so that only her best friend could hear, motioning discreetly to where Lorenzo sat. “He is so damn hot.”
“Ugh, Lorenzo? He’s... well, he looks better in a suit, but trust me, Trina, that boy is bad news. Besides, he’s my foster brother. Hookups are a no go with that one, got it?”
Katrina sat back with a satisfied smile.
Gorgeous? Check.
Bad boy? Check.
Off limits? Check.
Her summer was suddenly looking exponentially brighter.