Lydia
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The noise was foreign and yet familiar. A noise I recognized. I opened my eyes, bright light blinding me. Stark white walls. The smell of antiseptic.
Hospital.
I tried to sit up to better see my surroundings, but my breath was taken away by the stark, piercing pain that pulsed through my body.
“Shh.”
Warm hands touched my thigh, and I jerked my head to the side.
Cruz.
“How?” I tried to ask, but my throat was so dry and my voice so ragged, I coughed violently. The agony that followed that coughing spasm nearly made me pass out.
“Just relax. I’ll tell you everything, but you need to rest.”
Not a chance. The last thing I remembered was Pilar trying to get me out of that room in the basement, and then I thought I’d died. If the utter torment I was experiencing was any indication, that had not happened.
“How?” I tried again, and this time it came out barely above a whisper.
Cruz pulled his chair closer and took my hand in his. The other one was in a cast. I glanced down at my leg. Yep, a cast to the knee on that, too. Wonderful. The next six weeks looked like tons of fun.
But at least I was alive. And so was he. But injured, if the sling on his arm was any indication.
“You’re hurt?”
He shook his head, amused apparently at my mothering. “Just a scratch. You’re one to talk.”
I tried to smile, but my face hurt too bad, so I settled for closing my eyes and resting my head against the pillow.
“Juan Carlos was the hooded man. I killed him. Before he died, he told me you were dead. We came to the house to kill Chavez. When that was done, I started to leave, but Pilar stopped me and told me you were still alive.”
I felt like there were a lot of details missing from that explanation, but it would do for the time being. I nodded.
“Pilar?” My throat was killing me, but I needed to know she was okay.
“She came with us. Her girls are fine. Johnny’s working on finding a new job for her.”
Pilar was a good woman. She hadn’t deserved the hand she’d been dealt. I was glad she would get a fresh start and finally be free of that bastard’s hold.
Then all-consuming fear gripped me again. Papa!
“My father?”
Cruz put his hand on my shoulder, stilling me. “Is perfectly fine. Johnny’s associates got him out right after that picture was sent. He’s fine. He’s here. I sent him and Lina to the hotel for the evening to rest. He’s barely left your side.”
It saddened me and brought me joy that my father was here. I hated that he’d had to see me this way, but I was so glad he and Lina were okay.
Cruz brushed his hands over my face, his thumbs caressing my bottom lip. His expression was haunted, and I knew the last few days had been hard on him. Harder than I could imagine.
“I thought you were dead, Lydia. I didn’t want to live. I couldn’t process the pain.”
Tears fell from his eyes, and I felt mine fill and tumble over as well. I squeezed his hand. I wanted to tell him so many things. Thank you. Ask about our future. Tell him I wanted to marry him and have his babies. Instead, I settled on the one thing that was most important.
“I love you.”
He met my gaze, then stood and pressed his lips gently to mine. “I love you, too. Get some sleep.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Cruz pressed a button lying on the bed next to me, and I felt a flood of medicine in my veins. Then I closed my eyes and slept.
***
Six weeks later
“Do you seriously think I would let you get married in that?” My sister Lina sipped her drink while I turned in front of the mirror at the bridal shop in Atlanta.
After I’d been released from the hospital six weeks ago, Cruz had flown my sister and father to Atlanta. Cruz and Papa had a long talk, during which my father apologized for not helping him so many years ago.
“He told me he always thought I was a good man.” Cruz had confessed the words with tears in his eyes, old wounds healing.
“I know. He regrets not doing more to help you.”
Cruz shook his head. “I needed that kick in the pants. The marines were good for me.”
And they’d also taken him away from me, but I kept the words to myself. Whichever way you sliced it, we were together now, and that was all that mattered.
We’d walked down the street near a local park in Atlanta as Cruz had filled me in on his conversation with my father, the air cool with a fall breeze. Then he’d dropped to one knee, right in the middle of the sidewalk, and stared up at me with hope in his eyes.
“Lydia Ayala, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”
I hadn’t hesitated. With a quick squeal, and a muttered yes, I’d thrown my arms around him, kissing him, holding him tight.
“Earth to Lydia.” My sister waved her arms to get my attention.
“Sorry.”
“You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”
“Busted.” I giggled, and she slid off the bench and walked over to me.
She lifted the hem of the too-frilly dress and rolled her eyes. “Hopeless. Just like this dress. Next please.”
Lina shooed me away with her hands, and I took the dress off with a little help from the attendant. I had one last dress to try on, and I had a feeling it was The One.
I slid into the figure-hugging lace, pulling it up over my hips. The back was mesh with flowery, lace cut-outs and silk-covered buttons that trailed down my spine to a point dangerously low above my rear. There were appliqués along my collarbone that led to a sheer décolletage and a heart-shaped bust line. It had a mermaid tail that fanned out trailing along the floor. The lace gave it an old-fashioned feel, while the exposed skin kept it modern and interesting. A perfect blend of old and new, just like my relationship with Cruz.
I walked to the mirror and stood, tears filling my eyes. At that moment, all I could think about was how much I missed my mother.
Lina gasped and stood, her misty eyes matching mine. And I guessed we were both on the same mental wavelength as she took my hand and rested her head on my shoulder.
“Mom would be so proud of you.”
I smiled as the tears slipped down my cheeks. “She’d be proud of you, too.”
“You look like her. Especially in that dress. It’s the one.”
“It’s the one.”
We stood there for long minutes, holding hands, leaning on each other, remembering the woman we missed so desperately and seldom talked about.
After purchasing the dress, Lina and I had lunch downtown, and I took her back to the gym where I was living. Cade and Piper had taken a few weeks off to live in their house and had graciously given me their room.
Cruz and I were taking the traditional route of not living together until the wedding night. It was old-fashioned, sure. But after all we’d been through, and how long we’d waited to be together, somehow it just seemed right.
Plus my casts had only come off yesterday. Try making out with someone with those things on your body. Let’s just say Cruz had a few bruises to match my own.
We’d both started seeing a counselor, together and separately. The PTSD we were experiencing from our trauma wouldn’t go away on its own. We’d always live with it, but we would help each other get through. Shared experiences and all that.
The DEA took full credit for the “Chavez Takedown,” as the media was calling it, but no one at Shadow Force seemed to care. It was business as usual. The longer they stayed out of the spotlight, the more secure their covers were. Now that Chavez was out of the picture, they could rest easier.
We all could.
I had plans with Cruz for the evening. My sister and father were going to a movie, and Cruz had requested my presence. Our wedding was a week away. Fast, I know. But we’d lost too much time. I wasn’t about to lose any more.
He knocked on Cade and Piper’s door promptly at seven. I opened it and smiled.
Cruz stood there in charcoal slacks and a black button-down shirt. He was stunningly handsome. And perfectly matched my little black dress with the bell sleeves.
“You get more and more beautiful every single day.” His voice was warm and husky and held a promise of things to come.
He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me flush against his hard body.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
Leaning down, he kissed me lightly, then pulled away.
“Hey!”
“Patience, my dear. Let’s go.” That crooked grin told me he knew exactly how crazy he was making me.
Cruz made dinner reservations at a restaurant located in a refurbished warehouse in Atlanta, which boasted farm-to-table, southern-style food with a modern, country vibe. I was starving, and even though I had a wedding dress to wear in a week’s time, I decided on the grass-fed flank steak with sweet peppers and new potatoes. It was heaven.
Afterwards we walked to a rooftop bar and sat at a table overlooking the city.
“Tell me about your mom.”
My head jerked up at the request, since she’d been on my mind all day. I knew Cruz had to know that, and it gave me the warm fuzzies that he was so tuned in to me.
We’d never talked much about my mom. She’d died shortly before we got together. I’d told him a little about it while we dated, but I’d had a hard time retelling the story then. I realized now that Cruz knew very little about her.
“She was beautiful. Full of life and joy. She made everything fun.”
“She sounds amazing. How did she die?”
I inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly. “Gang initiation.”
Cruz looked as if I’d slapped him, and I knew he was thinking back on his own past.
“How did you do it?” His face showed pain and admiration, a combination I wasn’t expecting.
“How did I do what?”
“Serve the very people responsible for taking her away from you?”
Not easily. It had been a constant struggle in the beginning, but had gotten easier over the years.
“It was cathartic in many ways. I named the clinic after her for a reason. It was what she would have wanted. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The boy who killed her was thirteen. Shot her in the chest. She died before paramedics could get to the scene.”
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m not. It was a way to honor her memory. I wanted to make a difference. If I could heal with medicine, then maybe I could help curb the problem. Reach those boys before they hurt someone or were killed themselves. He was a child, Cruz. Responsible, yes. But still a child.”
Cruz reached across the table and took my hand. “Do you want to go back to Miami?”
We’d rushed into the whole “let’s get married” thing without really discussing the future. I knew we’d work it out, but this was the first conversation we’d had about it.
“No. I want to stay here. I can hire someone to run the clinic, and I’ll have to make frequent trips back, but I thought maybe I’d set up a similar clinic here in Atlanta. The gang population is equally as troubling. What do you think?”
Cruz leaned forward and caught my lips with his, briefly deepening the kiss before pulling away.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
He lifted his finger and called for a waiter, who brought over an ice chest with a bottle of champagne chilling.
“When did you arrange this? How did you know what I was going to say?”
Cruz shrugged as the waiter poured two glasses and then left. “I didn’t. But whatever you wanted to do, I was on board.” He lifted his glass, and I mirrored his action.
“I just want to be where you are. Whatever we do, wherever we go, as long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”
“To us.” I clinked my glass against his.
“To us.”