Hidden Depth (Lockhart Brothers Book 4)

by Brenda Rothert

  I want to tell her it’ll be okay, but the words feel hollow. An attack like that would change anyone. And I can tell from her tone that Elle’s fears are very real—and very crippling.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, because it’s all I’ve got.

  Tears well in her eyes as she continues. “He cut my face and stomach and broke my bones, but you know what’s crazy? Most of the damage is actually inside me. It’s not just the fear. I’m so fucking angry all the time.” She covers her face with her hands and cries, her voice breaking with raw emotion. “I feel like a pane of glass that he threw to the floor. The doctors and my parents and you can put me back together, but I’ll never be the same. I’m still in pieces, really. I always will be.”

  I take her hand in mine. “Elle, it takes time.”

  She shakes her head, still crying. “You know what I think about? I was too ashamed to admit this to you last night, but sometimes, I think . . . if I had just let him rape me . . .”

  I feel a powerful urge to choke the life out of Gary Beasley. No woman should ever feel like he’s made Elle feel.

  “You’d have another set of questions and regrets if you had done that,” I say.

  “Probably. But what kind of person even thinks that? If I had just let him rape me, he wouldn’t have cut me. I get angry at myself for thinking that, but maybe I shouldn’t have fought like I did.”

  “You were fighting for your life. That’s a human instinct. Don’t second-guess anything you did that day.”

  “I shouldn’t be dumping all this on you,” she says, wiping her cheeks and looking self-conscious.

  “Yes, you should. I’ve got broad shoulders. You can be honest with me, and I won’t judge you.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m weak.” She laughs sadly. “Though I’ve pretty much blown that, haven’t I?”

  “I don’t think you’re weak.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it.

  She sucks in a surprised breath, her cheeks turning a darker pink this time.

  “I wish it were my place to get in that bed beside you right now and hold you,” I say. “I wish it were my place to tell you I’ll be here beside you every step of the way. I wish . . . you were mine.”

  “You do?” She looks genuinely shocked. “Even though—”

  I cut her off by putting the fingertips of my free hand over her mouth. “Stop. Yes, I do. I told you what I think of you, remember? Obstinate. Beautiful. Sweet. And so many other things, Elle.”

  “Wow.” Her eyes mist over with emotion. “And remind me why it’s not your place to get in this bed right now?”

  I can’t help physically responding, my blood pumping at the thought of spooning her right now. I want to feel her soft skin against me and find out exactly how her fragile frame tucks against mine. More than once, I’ve fantasized about what her hair would feel like against my cheek. If she wants to be comforted and feel safe, I can absolutely deliver.

  But . . .

  “You’re a hospital patient. And also, I’m not gonna be your rebound guy.”

  She furrows her brow, a crease forming in her forehead. “I don’t want you to be my rebound guy. I’m not stuck on Colin anymore at all. And what was the other thing? Oh. Hospitals can be sexy, you know.”

  “Oh, really?” I give her an amused look. “Like when?”

  “Like when you’re in them.”

  I have to fight off my body’s urges once again. The crotch of my pants is completely out of space now.

  “There’ll be a time and a place, Elle. Not here. I want you all to myself.”

  She sighs softly. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t have to be here anymore, but if I stay, I’m safe, and you’re close by.”

  “I do like that. What are the other options?”

  “I have a house in LA and an apartment in New York. But they’re both tough places to seclude myself in. One side of the beach house is made entirely of windows. And there’s heavy paparazzi both places. Nothing like what you’ve seen here. I wouldn’t even be able to move there.”

  “You can’t stay here forever, though.”

  “I know. I may end up buying a place with privacy and hiring more security.”

  A sudden thought makes my heart rate kick up. “Or . . .”

  “Or what?”

  “You could come home with me.”

  She smiles. “To your apartment?”

  “No, to my hometown. To Lovely.”

  Her hold on my hand tightens. “I guess . . . I could.”

  “My parents have a giant old Victorian with loads of guest rooms. They’d love to have both of us. I’m planning to buy a place when I get back there, but I haven’t even looked yet.”

  “Are you sure?” She gives me a skeptical look. “It would still be a media circus, and in a small town, people wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  “Lovely folks are protective of our own.”

  “But I’m not—”

  “You would be. And my sister-in-law, Ivy . . . you’d love her. She owns a place called Grieves House, where pregnant teenagers can stay if they need a safe place.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty amazing.”

  I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it again. “Just think about it, okay? I’d have no expectations of anything between us. This is about you having your own space.”

  “No expectations?” She looks a little disappointed.

  “Hopes,” I admit. “But no expectations.”

  “Maybe you should think about it more, too. And ask your family if it’s okay.”

  “I don’t have to. They’d love to have you.”

  Her amber eyes are warm and affectionate as she looks at me. “I think it would be easier for me to make a decision if I knew whether or not you’re a good kisser.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  She shrugs. “I’m a woman. These things are important to us.”

  “I’m a very good kisser, Eleanor.”

  “Show me,” she whispers.

  And, hospital patient or not, I can’t help myself. I lean over and cup her face in my hands, taking my time.

  “You smell good,” she says, her breath warm against my lips.

  “You feel good.”

  I brush my lips across hers, softly at first. She reaches around my shoulders and wraps her arms around my neck. When her lips part, I get lost in her. My tongue meets hers, and we explore each other in a kiss that grows hungry fast. Neither one of us wants to stop, so we kiss and we kiss and we kiss.

  When she finally pulls away, she’s breathless. She touches her lips with her fingertips, and I see that she’s shaking.

  “That was the most amazing first kiss of my life,” she says, sounding almost scared by it.

  “Me too,” I admit, my heart hammering in my chest and my pulse racing in my ears.

  “I want more.”

  “So do I.”

  “I think . . . I should come to Lovely with you.”

  “You should.”

  She smiles. “Okay, Justin. Let’s see if this place is as amazing as you say.”

  Elle

  MY MOM’S MOUTH IS hanging open, and she’s giving me a look of shocked betrayal.

  “A small town in Missouri?” She gives me a confused look. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s Justin’s hometown,” I tell her again. “He has a big family there.”

  “Well, your family is right here.” She gestures between herself and my dad. “You can stay with us for a while.”

  I stop myself from blurting out my thoughts on that idea.

  She continues. “We can hire security and—”

  “Mom, no. The doctor said I have to stay here for another two days to get blood work and have my cast removed. And then, I’m going to Lovely.”

  She sniffs and looks away. “This is just another way of hurting me, isn’t it?”

  “No.” I laugh and look at my dad, whose expression is
sympathetic. “I’m a grown woman, Mom. I’m twenty-four years old.”

  “And that means you don’t need us anymore.” Her overly dramatic tone is classic.

  “I’ll always need you. You’ve been here with me for the past six weeks, and that means everything. But you guys need to get back home, and I’ve still got a ways to go in my recovery. I need to do this next part without you.”

  “You’re romanticizing this man, Elle. He rescued you, and Colin left you. But you hardly know him. And with your level of fame, people take advantage.”

  “I appreciate your concern for me, I really do. But I know how to look out for myself. And he’s not like that.”

  Tears pool in her eyes. “After what happened, I just can’t stand the thought of you alone in a strange place, with strange people . . . and that monster is still out there somewhere. Please don’t do this.”

  Her anguish tugs on me. For all her faults, my mom loves me in a way no one else ever will.

  “I won’t be alone, though. I’m bringing Andre, and we’re hiring more private security people. They’ll be protecting me around the clock.”

  “Is Chloe coming with you?”

  “She wants to, but I want her to take a break, too. I’m sending her on a two-month vacation to see the world. She’s been so many places with me, but she’s never gotten to enjoy herself because she’s always taking care of me. Same with you guys. It would mean a lot to me if you’d let me send you on a long trip to see someplace amazing. Or several places. Anything you want.”

  Mom furrows her brow in consideration. “You want to get rid of us?”

  Finally, my dad interjects. “She just wants to do something nice for us.”

  “Yes.” I give him a grateful look. “All those years you took me to county fairs and talent shows and auditions . . . that was expensive. Dad worked and spent lots of time alone so you could be with me.”

  “But we wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Mom says.

  “I know. And I love you guys so much. But you need to have some adventures of your own. I want you to send me pictures of you guys on a white beach or a jungle safari.”

  “A safari?” Mom’s eyes bulge. “Us?”

  “Yes. Please?”

  She sighs. “You already bought us a dream house and sent us to the Keys, though.”

  “Think bigger, Mom. Money is no object.”

  “I’d love to see Europe,” Dad says. “We could travel by train.”

  Mom gives him a look like she can’t believe he just said that. “Europe?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to see Paris? And London?”

  She considers. “I suppose I would.”

  This is going better than I had hoped it would. I’m about to suggest that Dad call my publicist to book the travel plans when Mom shakes her head.

  “I don’t know. What will the papers say about us leaving you right now?”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I’m going to start physical therapy.”

  “In Lovely?”

  “Sure.”

  She gives me a critical look. “You’re too thin.”

  “They have food in Lovely.” I look at my dad. “Will you call my publicist’s office and ask them to book this for you?”

  “Sure. Thanks, honey.”

  “Mom, do you think you could take my walk with me today?”

  She springs into action, grabbing my crutches. “Yes. And then we need to get you some lunch.”

  I let her mother me for a couple hours because I know how much it means to her. Then they go back to their hotel, and Merona comes into my room.

  “I hear you’re breaking out of this joint,” she says brightly.

  “I am. I’m staying for a couple more days, though.”

  “You look better. Must be that sunshine coming in the room now.”

  “You’re the sunshine in this room, Merona.”

  “Oh, you flatter me.”

  When she comes over to see how much water I have in my pitcher, I see two scratches on her arm.

  “Did you throw down with a patient?”

  She scoffs. “No, I threw down with five pounds of trouble. There was a cat scrounging in the dumpster of our apartment building, and my kids wanted to feed him. He was real skittish—probably been abused and had sores all over him. And skinny as a rail.”

  “But you caught him?”

  “Yes, I did,” she says proudly. “And until the landlord notices, we’re keeping him.”

  “You can’t have pets?”

  “No, but I couldn’t say no to my kids. That cat needs some TLC. They named him Stanley Elizabeth.” She laughs, and I do, too.

  “Stanley Elizabeth?”

  “The boys wanted Stanley, and the girls wanted Elizabeth.”

  “I love that name. I want to write a song about Stanley Elizabeth.”

  She takes my pitcher to refill it. “Need anything else?”

  “No, I’m good.” She turns to go, but I stop her. “So you live in an apartment with five kids?”

  “Sure do. It’s a three-bedroom, though. We used to have a two-bedroom, so we’re very happy in this place.”

  “I think Stanley Elizabeth was lucky you found him.”

  She smiles. “That cat’s gonna get all the sunshine and optimism he can stand.” She hesitates for just a second before saying, “I’ve got a favor to ask of you.”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  “Before I rotated to this wing, I worked on the Peds floor. And when news hit that Elle Tyler was a patient here, the kids went nuts. You’ve got some big fans there.”

  “You want me to go see them.”

  “I think it’d be a crying shame if you left here without at least stopping by.”

  I sigh softly. “Hardly anyone has seen me. I look different than I used to.”

  “It’s gotta happen sometime, right? And trust me, the kids don’t judge.”

  I reach for the silicone strip that covers the long scar on my cheek. The bandages are gone now, but at least it’s still hidden beneath the strip, which is supposed to help the scar fade.

  “I never say no to kids. I’ll go tomorrow after I get my cast off. But no press allowed, and we’ll need lots of security.”

  “We’ll take care of it.”

  “And your kids, bring them in, too.”

  She arches her brows and grins. “I will. Thanks.”

  The next day, my cast is removed, and my fear is confirmed. I walk with a limp. The doctors and therapists tell me it should get better with time, but I cry anyway.

  I love dancing. I started lessons as a five-year-old and have been dancing my whole life. Not just on stage, but for exercise and as a way to clear my mind. The doctors don’t know if I’ll ever be able to dance like I used to, but I can see the answer written on their faces—probably not.

  It’s just another thing Gary Beasley stole from me that day. My chest tightens as I picture him out there somewhere. The thought of him seeing a picture of me in the news physically sickens me. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see the permanent damage he did.

  I want to change my mind about seeing the kids. Once again, I’m feeling the need to cocoon myself in my room, safe beneath the covers in my bed. But when Merona comes into the room, her eyes shining happily as she pushes a huge dark blue cart of some kind, I can’t make myself say the words.

  “The kids don’t know you’re coming,” she says. “We’re gonna surprise them.”

  Swallowing hard, I steel myself and nod. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “Get in.” She nods at the cart, which looks like a giant blue box on wheels.

  “In there?”

  “It’s one of the carts housekeeping uses to move clean towels and sheets in. I left a bunch of towels in it so you’ll be comfy.”

  I give her a skeptical look. “You want me to get in there?”

  “Yep. It’s a perfect hiding place. Security will be following us at a distance so no one’s suspicious.”

  It�
�s actually genius. No one will be able to get a photo of me in there, even by accident.

  “Okay, let’s do it.”

  Andre is standing in the doorway, and when he hears my agreement, he comes in and lifts me up by the waist, setting me down on the stacks of bright white towels. The cart has a fresh, sanitized smell.

  “You okay?” Andre asks. “Does your leg hurt?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I’ll be close by,” he says.

  Merona wheels the cart out of the room, and I put my hands out on the sides of the box to steady myself. I hear her saying hello to lots of people as she walks, giving each one a bright smile.

  We ride two elevators, and I think Merona crosses a skywalk. Finally, the cart comes to a stop, and she looks down at me.

  “We’re here.”

  Andre lifts me out of the cart, and Merona reties the strings on my hospital gown. I wear one open in the front covered by one open in the back so everything is concealed. I’ve never sunbathed topless or changed clothes in the open at a photo shoot because I didn’t want to risk paparazzi sneaking photos of me. I’m not about to have anyone catching a shot of my bare bottom in a hospital gown.

  We’re in a large, sunny playroom in the Pediatric wing of the hospital. There are a few tables with chairs, couches, and TVs with the sound off playing a movie. The walls are painted a pale yellow shade and have framed photos drawn by patients.

  I take a deep breath, bracing myself before the kids get here. They’re used to seeing pictures of a made-up, beautifully dressed version of me. The real-life me—pasty, scarred, and clad in a hospital gown—is likely to disappoint them.

  A nurse walks in with a young girl who’s bald and looks frail. My heart is breaking for her when she sees me, and her bright blue eyes light up.

  “Is it really her?” she asks the nurse, looking up at her with wonder.

  The nurse nods and smiles. I bend down to reach the girl’s level.

  “Hi, I’m Elle.” I offer her my hand, and she grins as she shakes it.

  “I’m Mandy.”

  Other kids start trickling in, too. There’s a boy in a wheelchair and a girl hooked up to an oxygen tank. Every time one of them sees me and smiles, a little more of my dark mood slides away.

  “Did you get hurt?” a young boy asks, pointing at my cheek.