by Harlow Grace
I swallow hard. Watching the pain on his face was killing me. “You got a scholarship?”
So damn proud of him and yet hurt that he hadn’t told me earlier, I chewed slowly on another mouthful of muesli. Grayson didn’t need a scholarship, but working hard enough to earn one would be his way of proving his worth.
“I did. Didn’t want to use my parent’s money for my education. The plan was to pay it forward when I qualified by setting up a few more scholarship for future students.” He sighed heavily before taking another sip of coffee. With a sad voice he added, “But that’s not going to happen for me.”
Suppressing the urge to take his face in my hands and kiss him, I put down my spoon and bowl on the garden table and placed both hands under my ass to keep them from doing something silly. We’d spent hours in the past talking about our dreams and ambitions, being anything other than a doctor would slowly kill Grayson from the inside. How could any parent want that for their child? Especially someone as naturally gifted as Grayson.
“You’ve always hoped you’d be able to sway him when the time came. I’m so sorry—”
He shrugged. “I had a less than five percent chance of convincing him. I was always knew that, but I don’t regret a single minute of my training. Hopefully it will come in useful at some point in my life.” He laughed, but there was a touch of sadness to it that pulled at my heart.
Silence fell between us as we both withdrew into our thoughts. It wasn’t always necessary for us to talk when we were together, neither of us felt the need to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter.
Watching him out of the corner of my eye, I noticed how his shoulders had slumped forward ever so slightly. It wasn’t like Grayson to let life get him down. If only there was something I could do to help him.
“You haven’t answered my question.” He brushed the hair that had fallen over his brow out of the way as his penetrating gaze settled on me. I studied my nails as if I’d never seen them before.
“Why?” I asked simply.
“Why? Because I want to be with you. Since that night I can’t think of anything else but you in my arms. All I’m asking for is seven days. Seven days of only us. Away from everyone and everything.”
There was nothing I wanted more. It was a chance for a piece of heaven on earth but it also sounded like a recipe for getting my heart broken beyond repair. I bit into my lower lip. I was so damn tempted to throw caution to the wind and follow my heart.
“What about Sloane?”
“Huh? What about Sloane?” His brow knitted together in confusion, as if I was speaking in a foreign language.
“Milton wants you to date her. She’s your date for his party.” My voice was calm and matter-of-factly, even though my mouth became dry at the thought.
He pulled a face. “I only agreed for two reasons. One I didn’t want to hurt Sloane’s feelings because he’d already invited her, and two, I’m worried about his health. It was a trade—he promised to see a doctor if I agreed to his plans.”
“I’m confused, Grayson. What good will spending time with me do if we have to sneak around? How would we pull off going to London together without raising questions?”
The confident grin he gave me was proof he’d thought this through.
“No sneaking. I’ll go ahead of you to Oxford for a few days. You meet me in London three days later. Besides, can’t a brother treat his dearest stepsister for her birthday? Seems perfectly legitimate to me. What do you say?”
So it was going to be a purely platonic trip? Disappointment coursed through my body. I wanted more . . . so much more. But maybe it was better this way.
I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I’d do anything to have seven days alone with Grayson, in whatever shape they took. We’d been platonic for years, I could do it again, even after the best damn night of my life.
“Okay. I’m in,” I said as I expelled a long breath. Lord help me.
“Thank you, Lala. You won’t regret it. It will be the best week of your life.” His voice was as smooth as honey and his eyes shone with promises he didn’t articulate. I couldn’t help but clench my thighs together at the thought of collecting on those unspoken promises.
Oh God, why did I want him so damn much that it physically hurt?
9: Layla
Taylor had begged me to watch the latest episode of the Kardashians with her and we were both stretched out in front of the television eating pretzels. I’d rolled my eyes so often in the last half hour that I was developing a damn headache already. I shifted around on the couch, feeling guilty sitting there instead of doing something more productive with my time. Years of studying hard meant I didn’t watch TV often, and if I did, it certainly wasn’t that kind of program.
Every now and then Taylor let out a Oh-My-God or what-the-heck, and I couldn’t help chuckling at how seriously she took the show. I couldn’t stop staring at Kim’s lips or her false eyelashes. Kudo’s to her for wearing them with such confidence. It was something I needed to learn, so maybe watching the show wasn’t all a waste of time.
My phone rang and I glanced at it casually because I wasn’t expecting a call from anyone in particular.
“Hello, Layla speaking.”
“Miss Forbes?”
“Yes?”
Very few people called me by my adopted surname unless it was a stranger or the media.
“I’m Detective West from the Sydney Police. We need to talk to you please. Can you come down to the city office this afternoon?”
I drew in a harsh breath. What would the police want with me? I’d paid the parking fine from a bad parking decision at Uni ages ago. And who exactly was we?
“Um . . . sure I can, but what is it about? Are you sure you have the right person?”
“You are Layla Forbes?”
“Yes, that’s me.” Hadn’t we already cleared that up?
“You work at the downtown rehab center?”
Cagey, I answered, “Yeah. Does this have to do with any of my patients?”
“I sorry but I can’t say anymore until you get here. Can you be here by five this afternoon at the latest?” It was more of a command than a request.
Glancing at my watch I saw that it was three already, I couldn’t wait another two hours. “I can get there in the next hour.”
“Even better. Maybe you can bring a friend or family member with you?”
My blood instantly ran cold. “Why?”
“It’s just a suggestion, Miss Forbes, but it’s up to you.”
I scribbled the address he gave me onto a piece of paper. This was scaring the shit out of me and even more so because I had no idea what it was about. I knew the person on the other end of the line was only doing their job, but did they have any clue as to how upsetting it was to get a call like that out of the blue and not be given any real information.
Taylor gave me a quizzical look. “You look pale. What’s wrong?”
“Um, I just got this weird phone call. I have to go to the police office in the city. They want a word with me.”
“Really? What about?”
“I wish I knew. It was a strange conversation and it’s freaking me out. I’m thinking it must have something to do with one of my patients, but he wouldn’t give me any more information until I got there.”
Still clutching the piece of paper I’d written on in my hand, I grabbed my car keys from the counter and headed towards the door.
“I’m going to see what it’s all about. Be back soon.”
“Can I come with you?” Taylor asked, wrinkling her nose. She hated not knowing what was going on even more than I did.
“Oh honey, it’s going to be boring as bat-shit. I’ll have to fill in forms and probably answer a load of questions. I’m not exactly sure what to expect, but one of the girls at work told me about this happening to her once.”
“Damn, it doesn’t sound good.”
Worry knitted my brows together.
&nb
sp; “I know. Sometimes it’s about a patient who has been in another accident—which I hope to God it’s not.”
Mentally I ran through the list of patients I’d been working with. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to any one of them.
“I just didn’t think I’d be called on so early in my career. I mean, I’m only a casual staff member. I wonder why my boss wasn’t called instead?”
Taylor moped. “You’re going to miss the best part of the show.”
I laughed out loud. “I think I’ll survive. You can fill me in later, okay?”
Walking to my car, I wondered if I should have changed into something smarter and more professional than the jeans and t-shirt I was wearing. The thought lasted all of fifteen seconds—the sooner I got there, the sooner I’d know what was going on.
I drove in silence. Usually I played my favorite playlist and sang along, but I was feeling sick in the pit of my stomach and dread filled me the closer I got to the police station. My hands trembled lightly as I parked the car and made my way inside.
Grateful for the air conditioner that offered relief from the outside heat, I announced myself at the reception desk and was told to sit and wait. Fifteen minutes later, Sargent West appeared from an office out the back.
“Miss Forbes. Thank you for coming so soon.” His tone was polite, yet distant. “Sorry for the wait, I was busy on a phone call.” Maybe this was just routine for him, but I was virtually biting my nails while I agonized waiting for him.
“No worries.” I gave him a half-arsed smile.
“Follow me.” His beady eyes were hard and cold.
Goosebumps scattered my skin and I rubbed my arm with one hand to try and warm myself.
A single pot plant against the stark white wall did nothing for the office he led me into, neither did the bright light and cheap furniture. It was only when I saw three pictures on his desk, two of who I assume were his children and one of a woman with the two kids, that I managed a genuine smile. Detective West was human after all. Unless this was someone else’s office, of course.
He pointed to the chair closest to the door and I sat down, crossing my legs and arms as I waited. He lifted a single file off his desk and opened it.
“Is Carmen Fernando a patient of yours?”
I breathed in sharply. Of all the people, of the twenty-five patients I had seen over the past year, it had to be Carmen?
Too stunned to speak, I nodded.
“Her mother asked for you by name even though you aren’t the senior staff member at the rehab center.”
“W . . . what happened? Is Carmen okay?”
“She’s alive, but barely. The poor girl was hit by a car.” A fleeting glimpse of sympathy passed through his eyes. “She’s in hospital, but she’s in a critical condition.”
I swear the air conditioner sucked all the oxygen from the room. My head was spinning.
“Whose car was she in this time?”
So help me God, if her father had been drink-driving again.
“She wasn’t a passenger. A car ran her over.”
My hand flew to my mouth to try and stifle my scream.
“No. Oh, no.” I couldn’t control the trembling of my hands. Detective West placed a boney hand on my shoulder.
“Her parents were arguing. Her father backed out of the driveway quickly, knocking over the postbox and then the girl. The postbox is destroyed, it took the brunt of the impact, but it still didn’t stop the truck from crashing into Carmen.” Cold fingers dug into my skin as he squeezed my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“What was she doing outside?”
“Apparently her uncle had just dropped her off. They were at the end of the driveway, about to walk into the house.”
“Why was Carmen standing there? She shouldn’t have been there!” The anger in my voice must have taken Detective West by surprise because his eyes widened. Yeah, I looked tame, but when I was angry I turned into a freaking tiger.
“That’s why we need to question you, Miss Forbes. As her therapist we need you to make a statement about her previous capabilities so that we can compare it to her current condition.”
“Just tell me . . . was her father drunk?”
“Yes. Five times over the legal limit. He was too drunk to stay on the path.”
My shoulders slumped forward. Some people would never learn. It was his fault Carmen needed therapy in the first place, and now he’d done it again after swearing he’d never drive drunk again.
Shaking with rage, I jumped to my feet. “Can I see Carmen?”
“Calm down, Miss Forbes. I will allow you to see her, but I suggest you call somebody to accompany you. She doesn’t look good.” Detective West kept his tone neutral, but I could see anger flash across his face. “I have a daughter Carmen’s age. I’d hate to lose her to a DUI accident.”
Now I understood his solemn expression. If I had to deal with cases like this every day, I’d also have to distance myself in order to stay sane. Right now I had the urge to get into my car and find Carmen’s dad and uncle and cut their fucking balls off for hurting her. Come to think of it, her mother needed talking too as well.
As if he read my mind, he said in a dry tone, “Mrs. Fernando is receiving counseling. Both men have been questioned and Mr. Fernando is sleeping off his hangover in a cell.”
People like him should be left to rot behind bars.
“Lucky for him. Cause if I laid my hands on him—”
The detective shrugged, interrupting me. “He doesn’t have a scratch on him. Ironic eh?”
I nodded. “Life isn’t fair.”
Detective West gave me a wry smile and showed me back to the reception of the office and we said our goodbyes. I sat down on the hard wooden chair and immediately fished my phone out of my purse and dialed Grayson’s number. After three rings, he answered.
“Layla? Are you okay? Taylor just told me where you are.” The concern in his voice nearly made me cry. I bit back the burning in my throat, thankful to hear his calming voice.
“No, I’m not okay. It’s Carmen—” I choked back the tears in an attempt to appear professional.
“Carmen? What happened?”
“Can you pick me up and take me to her? She’s in hospital. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
In the background I heard Taylor’s voice. “Oh my God, did something happen to Carmen?”
Grayson must have signaled her to be quiet, because his voice came over the line strong and without hesitation.
“I’m on my way, stay where you are. Drink something while you wait, okay? Tea, water, anything . . . but stay there.”
I sobbed out loud, I could always count on his kindness. What would I do without Grayson in my life?
Sending up a little prayer of gratitude to the heavens for him, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “Thank you, Grayson.”
10: Grayson
Watching tears fill Layla’s eyes had a profound effect on me. During my training I’d learned to stay calm and impersonal, but this . . . this was personal as fuck. Layla was hurting and I felt so damn helpless as I stood with my arm wrapped around her shoulder as we stared down at Carmen’s frail little body. She looked like she was being swallowed up by the bed, she looked so tiny.
Her stats were awful. I’d be surprised if she made it through the night with all the internal bleeding she had sustained.
Layla held onto her limp little hand, stroking Carmen’s dark hair off her pale face.
“She looks like an angel,” Layla murmured, her voice catching in her throat. Her large green eyes met mine, sadness etched in their depths. “Can she hear me, Grayson?”
I nodded. Seeing my girl in so much pain ripped my fucking heart open. “Yeah, talk to her, sweetheart. She can hear you.”
Pulling a chair out, I pushed Layla down into it so she was closer to the bed. I stood behind her, rubbing circles on her shoulders to soothe her as she spoke to Carmen in a gentle voice.
&nbs
p; Layla paused for a moment and then I heard her sing. She always joked that she was tone deaf and refused to sing except in private. I had heard her sing in the bathroom and she didn’t sound half as bad as she though she did, but I never expected her to put her discomfort aside. Stunned, I listened in silence to her sweet voice as she sang one song after another whilst stroking Carmen’s hand.
This woman.
Her heart was made of pure gold.
She’d be a wonderful mother one day. The kind of mother I wanted for my kids.
I sat in the chair beside her and massaged up and down her spine as Layla sang until her voice quivered too much to carry on. Her shoulders slumped forward.
“It’s not fair. Why does she have to suffer this much?”
I shrugged, feeling helpless to answer her with a real solution. “Life isn’t fair, Lala. It’s just the way it is.” Her eyes lit up with anger upon hearing my words.
“Where the hell are Carmen’s guardian angels? They better wake up and take care of her. She can’t take much more of this pain,” she said, choking on her words. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Seeing her like this was breaking my fucking heart and I couldn’t stand it much longer. I pulled her up into my arms, hugging her tightly.
“Hush, baby. Carmen’s still alive, yeah? Her angels are taking care of her.” I didn’t want to tell her that I was surprised the girl was still breathing. The trauma she’d suffered would have killed anyone who didn’t have a team of angels on their side.
Layla’s sobs intensified. “I really hope you are right.”
“I’m certain. As long as Carmen is breathing there is hope, Lala. And the doctors will do everything they can to help her. You’ve just gotta have faith, okay?”
“I know . . . I’m trying. But it’s so damn hard to watch her suffer like this. I know I’m trained to be able to handle it, but Carmen . . . she doesn’t deserve this.”
