Loving Lies

by Linda Kage

  Cover

  Title Page

  Loving Lies

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  Linda Kage

  ...

  Omnific Publishing

  Los Angeles

  Copyright Information

  Loving Lies, Copyright © 2014 by Linda Kage

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  Omnific Publishing

  1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor

  Los Angeles, California 90067

  www.omnificpublishing.com

  ...

  First Omnific eBook edition, September 2014

  First Omnific trade paperback edition, September 2014

  ...

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

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  Kage, Linda.

  Loving Lies / Linda Kage – 1st ed

  ISBN: 978-1-623421-30-4

  1. New Adult Romance—Fiction. 2. Forgiveness—Fiction. 3. School Shooting—Fiction. 4. College—Fiction. I. Title

  ...

  Cover Design by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw

  Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

  Dedication

  This one is for Alaina Cayenne, and no one else,

  because no one pushed me as hard as she did to get this story finished,

  and also because I’m really, really sorry

  I forgot to type her name

  in the acknowledgments of that other book!

  Chapter One

  IT WAS A GOOD DAY to be a good person.

  As Tess Simpson strolled toward the entrance of Granton Regional Medical Center, she drew in an invigorating lungful of February air. Of course, not everyone shared her opinion. Next to her, her best friend grumbled about the frozen breeze blowing through her coat. Bailey yanked a pair of gloves from her pocket and pulled them on without finesse. Then she cast the clouds a petulant glare before flipping up her hood.

  “I cannot believe you talked me into doing this. You hate me, don’t you?”

  “Actually,” Tess said as she cheerfully bumped her elbow into Bailey’s, giving her an exaggerated wink, “I love you so much I want to be with you always. You complete me.”

  The teasing remark made Bailey snort, but Tess decided to ignore her lack of enthusiasm. Nothing was going to burst her bubble. Humming to herself, she applied a layer of Mighty Mango lip gloss before slipping the tube back into her purse just as they approached the front doors, which swished open to welcome them inside.

  “And these outfits are ridiculous,” Bailey ranted on. “I mean, really? Who makes their volunteers wear true candy striper costumes anymore?”

  “Oh, come on. The auxiliary who trained us explained the uniforms. With so many students pouring in lately to help out, they needed an easy way to distinguish the true nurses from the volunteers.”

  Bailey sent her a sideways frown, full of dry impatience. “Gee really, is that why?” With a sniff, she rolled her eyes. “I went to the training sessions too, you know. You don’t have to repeat everything the auxiliary said back to me verbatim.”

  “Well, you don’t have to act as if you’ve forgotten what she said either.” Tess was used to her friend’s cranky attitude, but Bailey was on a roll today.

  Not that she was going to let that bother her either. She just wouldn’t.

  “I’m just sayin’. I feel like I’m in a jail cell.”

  Only Bailey would think of jail from seeing red and white stripes.

  “Psht!” Tess snapped her fingers over Bailey’s mouth, squishing her lips together and successfully shutting Bailey up. “This is for a good cause. We’re needed. Just think of how much of a better person this’ll make you feel.”

  Bailey batted Tess’s hand away. “Yeah right. This ain’t goodness I feel oozing out of my nose.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and pretended to blow her nose. Then, in a voice crammed with as much nasal blockage into it as possible, she whined, “I think I’m coming down with a cold.”

  “Oh, you are not. Faker.” Tess pressed the button for the elevator before she set her hands on her hips and stared Bailey down with a determined arch of the eyebrows. “Don’t you dare flake out on me. You said we could do this.”

  “Well, remind me to never agree to anything you suggest again,” Bailey muttered. She stuffed the tissue away. “And by the way, we are so not needed since there are already other student volunteers just—” she made air quotes “—pouring in. Your words. We’ll probably be in the way.”

  The elevator dinged, and a pair of silver doors yawned open to their left. Grabbing Bailey’s arm to force her along, Tess swept them into the car. “Too bad. You already promised. A deal’s a deal. We’re doing this.”

  With a little moan of resigned acceptance, Bailey folded her arms over her chest as Tess pushed the button for the third floor. When Bailey didn’t complain after the doors shut, Tess grinned and opened her coat to smooth her hands over the outline of her red and white striped apron.

  “And I like the outfits. They remind me of candy canes, not jail cell bars.” With a wiggle of her butt, she grinned and added, “Plus I look good in mine.” As Tess twerked against her friend’s leg, determined to coax a smile out of her, Bailey only snorted again and elbowed her away, though Tess swore she saw the corners of Bailey’s tight lips tugging up.

  “That’s because your apron conforms to the shape of your body. You have a little waist to go with your curvy hips and big boobs. I’m sporting a straight line of blob over here. Looks like I’m hobbling around in a potato sack made of freaking jail-cell candy canes.”

  “Oh, whatever. You look cute too.” Unable to help herself, Tess bumped her hip into Bailey’s one last time. “Maybe not as cute as I do, but you’ll pass.”

  “Witch,” Bailey grumbled as the elevator stopped and let them out, but this time she was definitely hiding a smile as she spoke.

  “Grump,” Tess playfully volleyed back, smacking Bailey on the butt as she floated into a tiled vestibule. When said grump didn’t follow, she had to reach back, catch Bailey’s arm, and yank her along. “This way, dear.”

  As soon as they stepped forward, a harried-looking woman in scrubs descended upon them. Panting, she bent at the waist to rest her hands on her knees. “Oh, thank goodness. More volunteers. I am so glad to see you two. It’s been one of those days. We’ll take all the help we can get this evening.”

  Tess sent Bailey a told-you-so smirk, to which her best friend scowled and moodily shoved her hands into the pockets of her candy striper apron before pointedly lifting her chin and glancing away.

  “I need one of you to deliver this cart of flowers to all the room numbers written on their cards. And I need the other to help the boy in room three-twelve eat his dinner.”

  “Oh no.” With a gasp, Tess pressed her hand to her chest, her heart going out to the poor darling needing help. “He can’t feed himself?”

  That was so tragic. Tragic stories made her emotional.

  Before Tess’s sympathy bug bit her right in the tear ducts and she had to ask Bailey to spare her a clean tissue, the nurse gave a moody harrumph and glared at room 312, an open door not too far from them. “Oh, he can feed himself all right. He’s just being stubborn, as usual. He refused breakfast and lunch. But he needs to stop fooling around and get some sustenance before he makes himself really sick.” Mumbling under her
breath, she added, “I wish we could put the obstinate ass on a feeding tube and be done with it.”

  “Do you know why he refuses?” Tess asked, her brow furrowed with worry. She wanted to fix this as soon as possible.

  The nurse scowled, obviously irritated by the question. Then she let out a reluctant breath. “Jonah woke up with amnesia. He can’t remember anything. And what’s worse, no one’s come to claim him, so he takes it out on all us nurses.”

  “Wait. No one?” Tess shook her head. That couldn’t be right. “What about his family? His friends? Classmates? Surely, someone—”

  “No one,” the nurse cut her off with no room to argue.

  Tess gulped and glanced sympathetically at the opened door to room 312. The poor, poor boy. She’d lose her appetite too if no one came to visit her and she couldn’t even remember who to miss.

  “How the heck do you even know his name if he has amnesia?” the ever-practical Bailey wanted to know.

  Hmm. Good question. Tess hadn’t thought of that; she’d been too worried about his feelings. See, this was why she’d made Bailey volunteer with her; Bailey always considered things that didn’t even occur to Tess, and Tess considered things that didn’t occur to Bailey. They really did complete each other.

  “Because his student ID was on him when he was brought in. All we know is that his name is Jonah Abbott and he’s attended Granton for three years.”

  Tess brightened. “Well, surely you could contact the university to find his—”

  “We’ve called once. They never called back. And if you haven’t noticed, we’ve been a little swamped around here.” The nurse splayed out her hand to clue Tess and Bailey in to the chaotic atmosphere surrounding the third floor of Granton Regional Medical Center. “If you want to play Nancy Drew and find his next of kin, be my guest. No one here has the time to dig too deeply. We’ll get to it when we get to it. Right now, we’re more concerned with keeping everyone alive.”

  “Well, I’d be happy to find them for you.” She didn’t understand how no one had found him yet, but the world honestly had turned upside down in the past few weeks. She guessed anything was possible.

  The nurse arched her eyebrows as if doubting Tess’s sincerity. “Just keep in mind that if someone really cared about him, they would’ve come for him by now.”

  She sort of had a point. Exactly fourteen days had passed since the Granton school shooting. If someone were truly worried about Jonah Abbott, they certainly would’ve located him days ago. She winced, pity flooding her chest until it felt crammed full. Aside from trying to regain his memories and heal from a gunshot wound, he probably felt completely abandoned.

  And Tess knew he had to be a victim from the shooting, because everyone on this floor was supposed to be; that was why she was here. Since this atrocity had happened on their home turf, the students of the university had wanted to help as much as possible, so the hospital had let them sign up for volunteer services to assist the harried medical staff with caring for other students who’d suffered in the shooting.

  Tess had volunteered herself as soon as she’d come across a sign-up sheet, and of course she’d coaxed Bailey into joining her, since they did everything together.

  Glancing at the open door of room 312, she ached for Jonah Abbott. She could only imagine the horrors he’d survived.

  After hooking her arm determinedly through Bailey’s and giving her a bolstering squeeze, she smiled at the nurse with absolute reassurance. “We’ll make sure he eats, get the flowers delivered, and we’ll find his next of kin. No problem.”

  But no sooner did she speak than a boom and clanging crash resounded from behind her. Ducking instinctively as the reverberation vibrated up the backs of her legs and spine, Tess let go of Bailey to duck and cover.

  It wasn’t gunshots, however, and she felt stupid for reacting so impulsively when no else around her had. Flushing, she dropped her arms from over her head and brushed her hair out of her face, trying to look cool and unaffected, when actually her heart was trying to pound itself out of her chest. Twisting to see what had happened, she wondered if someone had knocked over a cart.

  But it was worse. Way worse.

  Disbelief widened her eyes as she stared at a broken plate of food dripping down the door of 312 where the patient inside had obviously heaved his supper.

  If that was all the food he was allotted for tonight, she was screwed.

  “Yeah. I’ll take flower duty.” Bailey popped forward and latched her hands around the cart full of vases and potted plants.

  Before Tess could call after her and argue that they should do their tasks together—since she tended to lose all her courage without her trusty BFF at her side—Bailey took off down the hall in the opposite direction of Jonah Abbott’s room.

  Great. What the heck was she supposed to do now? Biting her lip, Tess glanced helplessly at the nurse.

  The nurse patted her arm with a commiserating sigh. Offering no words of advice, she said, “Good luck. You’ll need it.” Then she too fled.

  Tess balled her hands into fists as she gaped after the escaping orderly and finally lost a tendril of her good mood. “Thanks a lot,” she muttered. “Just leave me standing here with no clue what I’m doing.”

  Oh, well. She’d just wing it, then.

  With a huffed breath, she shoved her sleeves up to her elbows and got to work. The first order of business was getting Jonah another tray of food. But hunting up someone to help with that proved impossible. As soon as she mentioned his name or the dreaded number 312, everyone suddenly became too busy to assist her.

  The jerks.

  Were they so heartless they didn’t care that he was going through hell right now?

  Fed up with everyone and their best friends, she took matters into her own hands. A quick visit to the Tex-Mex fast food restaurant across the street later, she was marching back into the hospital with a contraband bag of take-out hidden in the depths of her enormous purse.

  “This’ll taste better than boring old hospital food anyway,” she assured herself, ignoring the growl in her stomach as the tantalizing aroma of beef, refried beans, cheese, and signature sauces teased her nose. Her mouth watered, reminding her she’d yet to eat supper, but she refused to steal even one taco from poor Jonah. He needed all the nourishment he could get.

  She was going to take care of him so well. Her thoughtfulness would no doubt induce him to eat every last bite. It’d cheer him up in no time and—

  She slowed to a stop to watch a guy with a balloon and bundle of flowers ease into another room down the hall. Her insides balling with sympathy, she realized no one had brought Jonah flowers. No one had cared enough to buy him a balloon, or get well card, or anything. No one cared at all.

  God, who was she kidding? He wasn’t going to eat the food she’d brought him. He thought he’d been abandoned. Unless…

  The idea that hit her was so brilliant she clasped it whole-heartedly without another thought. She would make him feel cared for and loved. And since he couldn’t remember anything anyway, he wouldn’t know the difference. Tess just couldn’t handle knowing someone was miserable.

  Glancing around to make sure no one was paying her any attention, she slipped her candy striper apron over her head and wadded it into a ball before stuffing it behind a nearby trash can. Then she smoothed down her blouse, finger combed her hair, and snatched up her purse before strolling into room 312 as if she actually had the nerve.

  Only to jerk to an immediate halt.

  Holy crap. She’d expected to find a thin, frail, dork of a guy, with glasses maybe, and a big nose stretched across a face full of acne. Yeah, with a high forehead, greasy hair, and a long, gangly neck. A loner college geek no one wanted to visit, working toward a degree in rocket science, or whatever degree college geeks worked toward when they wanted to become rocket scientists.

  Okay, actually, she hadn’t really been expecting that either. She had no idea what she’d been expecting. B
ut the muscled-up beefcake with long, thick eyelashes, a rugged five-o’clock shadow, midnight black hair, and a wounded soul peering out from gorgeous brown eyes was definitely not on her list of top one hundred expectations. Even with his skin blanched with sickness, bandages on his head and around his chest, and a cast on one arm, he looked too yummy to be real.

  Dear God, this was not good. Hot guys made her nervous. And when she managed to actually form words to talk in the presence of one, she usually blurted out the worst things to say, ever. Without Bailey here to ground her, this was going to bad. So horrifyingly, disastrously bad.

  Jonah Abbott took her in from head to toe, his intense gaze making her uncomfortably warm and fluttering the muscles in her belly, uncaging the butterflies. Then he wrinkled his brow with confusion.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  When hope filled his sleep-bruised eyes, she bit the inside of her lip to keep from crying. He needed someone who cared—who really cared—to be with him so much right now.

  “I—” Tess licked her lips and told herself to explain that she was a concerned classmate who’d come to see how he was doing because they’d become good friends over the last semester. But for the life of her, she couldn’t spit out a course to name. Why couldn’t she come up with one class? Damn it, she was going to kill Bailey for abandoning her.

  Her brain was frozen, she couldn’t think, couldn’t concoct a good lie. She could only blurt forth the worst thing to say, ever.

  “I’m your girlfriend.”

  Chapter Two

  JONAH WINCED AS HE SHIFTED his torso on the cramped, crinkly hospital mattress, trying to find a comfortable spot. A dull throb arced from the gash on the side of his head and down his body to all three of his bullet wounds.

  He could do with another dose of morphine. But when he eyed the button lying by his hip to pump himself full, he didn’t push it.

  The ache was welcome. It let him know he was still alive.

  God, he hated this. Hated the helplessness, the fear, the confusion. Slippery sweat dripped down his temple as the sterile scent of the infirmary burned his nostrils.