Redemption (A Golden Beach Novel Book 5)

by Kim Loraine

  “Fine, come on.” Chanel pouted as they walked to their waiting town car.

  They both let out groans as the chilled air hit them when they settled into the backseat.

  “Oh, God. Let’s just stay here forever.” Chanel stretched her legs out in front of her as far as she could and shivered.

  The vehicle jerked to a sudden stop, throwing Lena’s bag to the floor and dumping the contents everywhere.

  “Damn.” She leaned down and started blindly searching under the seats for her belongings. Her phone started ringing, but she couldn’t see it anywhere.

  “Good, God Almighty. Who is Michael and where can I get one?” Chanel held up Lena’s ringing phone and grinned at the picture on the screen. He’d been about to go in for duty the day she’d snapped that quick shot. His hair slightly tousled from the kiss she’d given him.

  “He’s my husband.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? You’re married?”

  “We’re getting a divorce.”

  “Why?” It was a ridiculously personal question, but she understood the disbelief in Chanel’s voice. Why would anyone leave a man who looked like that?

  “We want different things.”

  “If I were married to him I’d want him to tie me down and never let me out of his bed.”

  Lena ripped the phone out of Chanel’s hand and ignored the call. She knew she was joking, but it still hurt.

  “But seriously,” Chanel continued. “What happened?”

  “He didn’t really want me. I was a replacement for someone else.”

  Chanel frowned. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I definitely understand your firefighter thing now, though.”

  Lena’s phone rang again before she had a chance to put it away. Sighing, her thumb hovered over the Decline button, but she stopped when she saw the Caller ID displayed Golden Beach General Hospital.

  With shaking fingers, she answered, “Hello?”

  “Lena Shirakawa?”

  “This is she,” Her voice barely broke through the fear bubbling to the surface.

  “This is Doctor Ainsley Moreno. I’m calling about your mother.”

  Chapter 23

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Michael swore as the hood of his Impala came crashing down on his finger. He resisted the urge to kick his car and opted for storming around his driveway and letting a stream of expletives fly.

  “Calm down, Mikey. You’re scaring the neighbors.” Klipper tossed a cold beer at him and leaned against the garage.

  “The nearest neighbors are a mile down the road.”

  Klip looked across the land Michael had built his home on and shrugged. “Yeah, well, you’re scaring me.”

  The two friends leaned against the car and cracked open their beers in comfortable silence as the late summer sun sank behind the trees.

  “So, you ever gonna sign those papers?” Klip asked.

  Just the thought of legally severing his relationship with Lena made Michael’s chest ache. “Not until she comes to see me.”

  “Buddy, it’s been almost two months since she sent them. How long has it been since you saw her?”

  Michael took a long pull from his beer, relishing the burn of the carbonation as it rushed down his throat. “Too damn long.”

  “She still in New York?”

  “Yeah.” His answer was terse and he hoped Klip would change the damn subject. He didn’t want to talk about Lena—about his failure as a husband—about anything.

  “You know, she can make the divorce happen with or without you.”

  He knew it was the truth, but he didn’t think Lena would do that. He honestly thought she’d come back at least one more time. “We’ll see.”

  “All right, enough girly shit. Come on, the game is on.”

  “Whatever, man. It’s pre-season. Talk to me after this week.”

  Klip rolled his eyes. “Research. Fantasy draft is tomorrow. I’m gonna win it this year.”

  “Sully wins every year.” Michael fought off a laugh at the memory of Klip and Sully going head to head last season.

  “Not this year.” The man was determined, Michael would give him that.

  “Go on in. I’ll be there in a few.”

  Klip put a hand on his shoulder and offered a slight squeeze. “Just sign the papers, man. It’ll get better once you let her go.” He walked back to the house without another word.

  It irritated Michael that his friend had known exactly what he’d been thinking . . . again. As soon as the front door shut, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through his recent calls list. His stomach clenched as he counted the number of times he’d called her in the past two months. She never answered. Letting his finger hover over her name, he hesitated momentarily. Klip was right. He needed to stop calling.

  His phone rang in his hand, startling him and nearly causing him to drop the stupid thing.

  “Lena?” he answered without thinking.

  “Uh, no. It’s Donovan.”

  He winced at the pity in his friend’s voice. “Oh, hey, D. Sorry.”

  “Listen, man. Lena’s home.”

  His breath caught in his throat. Was he really hearing Donovan correctly?

  “What did you say?”

  Donovan cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “She’s home. Her mom had a stroke yesterday.”

  “Shit. Is she okay? Her mom?”

  “Not sure. Valerie only got bits and pieces of info from Lena early this morning. She’s going to pick her up at the airport now. I thought you needed to know. Val won’t be happy I told you, but there was no way in hell I was gonna let you run into her on the street.”

  Sitting on his porch, he offered Donovan a quick thanks and hung up the phone. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

  Why was he upset? Aside from Ryoko’s condition, this was exactly what he’d wanted. Wasn’t it?

  This was his chance to see her, to remind her why they’d gotten married in the first place. He had so much to tell her. There was so much she didn’t know about Kate, Mitchell, and John, about how he really felt. He wanted to rush to the hospital, meet her there, check on his mother-in-law, but this had to be handled with care. He’d hurt her by not considering her needs in the first place. Wiping the grease from his hands with a rag, he walked inside the house with a lightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in months.

  As Lena crossed the small hospital room, her heart caught in her throat at the sight of the fiery woman who’d raised her, now unconscious, small, and weak in the bed. She’d never looked so frail.

  “Okasan,” she whispered, sinking into the chair next to the bed and taking her mom’s hand.

  Tears burned her eyes as she watched the vitals monitor offering constant reassurance that her mom was alive. The only sounds in the room were the hiss of oxygen and the whir of the air conditioning.

  A soft knock on the door was followed by the smiling face of a woman in a white coat.

  “Hi, there. Are you Lena? I’m Doctor Moreno.” The woman held out a hand and Lena stood.

  As they shook, she glanced back at the form of her mother on the bed. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Her vitals look good. But with any stroke there is a risk of permanent damage. We won’t know the extent until she wakes up and we can run cognitive tests.”

  “How long will it be until she wakes up?”

  Doctor Moreno offered a slight smile. “It’s up to her. But like I said, her vitals are strong. She’s breathing on her own, her organs are functioning normally. I’d say it’s likely she’ll wake in the next day. Sleep is the body’s way of protecting itself.”

  Nodding, Lena took her pl
ace in the chair again and gripped her mom’s hand. “What do I do if she wakes up?”

  “Call the nurse. They’ll page me or the doctor on call.”

  As the door clicked shut, Lena let out a sigh. It was bad, but not as horrible as she had thought. So many awful scenarios had run through her mind as she’d raced to the airport and waited at her gate for her flight. Each one had grown worse as the hours passed. Now that the doctor had eased some of her fears, Lena let her chest loosen and gave in to her need to rest her eyes. Before long, her head drooped and she felt herself drop off into a light doze.

  A soft thud, followed by a gruff, “Shit,” woke her. Her neck ached from the unnatural angle she’d slept at and it took her a second to recall her surroundings. Blinking through the haze of sleep, she realized it hadn’t all been a bad dream. Her mom was still here in the hospital, still unconscious. A familiar scent overtook her and she fought the urge to cry. Turning her gaze toward the door, she saw him. Her heart gave a harsh shudder at his furrowed brow, the tightness in his eyes, and the stiff posture of his body.

  “Michael.” His name came out on a choked sob. She couldn’t help it.

  His arms were around her before she could stop him, pulling her out of her chair and against his firm chest. He didn’t say a word, just held her tight and let her cry. The feel of his heart beating under her cheek and his hand stroking her hair broke the dam holding her emotions at bay. She finally let it all out—the hurt, the fear, the pent up worry that she’d made a mistake.

  The pressure of his lips on the top of her head sent a tremor of heartbreak through her, but with it came clarity. He’d leave her eventually, he just wouldn’t admit it. Sniffing, she pushed away and pulled every ounce of self-control she had around her.

  “You didn’t have to come,” she said, wishing her voice was stronger.

  A gentle expression softened his eyes. “I did. She’s my mother-in-law. You’re my wife.”

  “Not for much longer.”

  Raking a hand over his short hair, he let out a harsh breath. “Shit, Lena. Are we really doing this now?”

  Shaking her head, she took her seat, intending to return to her vigil as she watched her mom for any sign of consciousness. “You’re right. Now’s not the time.”

  The scrape of metal across linoleum brought her attention back to him as he pulled up a chair and placed it next to hers.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “You shouldn’t be alone right now. You need a support person.”

  She couldn’t understand why he refused to let go. “Valerie is coming in the morning.”

  Offering a curt nod, he stared her down. “Fine. I’ll leave when she gets here. Until then, I’m not getting out of this chair. Sleep. If anything changes I’ll wake you.”

  He made it damn hard to stop loving him.

  Michael waited in silence, seated next to his wife as she stared, unmoving, at her mother. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but eventually the weight of her head rested on his shoulder. Leaning back in his chair, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. This wasn’t about getting her back. This was purely about being what she needed right now.

  Hours passed as she slept. The only indulgence he allowed himself was the feel of her hair as he ran his fingers through the length. Silky strands slid between his fingers over and over as he stroked her hair from crown to end, committing the feeling to memory.

  The door clicked as it opened, causing him to stiffen and brace himself for the realization that his time with her was up. Sure enough, Valerie’s wide blue gaze found him, shock on her face.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  “Being a husband.”

  Her expression changed as sadness flooded her features. “Oh, Michael.”

  He didn’t want to hear it. They all thought he was pathetic—Klipper, Donovan, Sully, even his own family. They’d told him to move on. To give up. That may have been him years ago, when Kate had crushed him or when John had died. But Lena was worth so much more.

  Lena stirred and his arm tightened around her instinctively. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he murmured, “Valerie’s here, baby. Should I go?”

  She let out a contented noise and snuggled further into his chest. “Mmm, you smell so good. Why do you always smell so good?”

  He knew she wasn’t herself at the moment, but he wanted desperately to hold on to this as long as possible. Hugging her to him, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to bring her lips within inches of his. Dark eyes blinked slowly at him as he brushed his mouth over hers, savoring the first kiss they’d shared in months. His heart screamed, Tell her! Tell her now! But his fear took hold and he backed away before she could reject him.

  Rising, he looked at Valerie. “Call me if there’s any change?”

  She nodded, and took his seat, her focus turning immediately to Lena. “You okay?” she asked.

  Lena didn’t answer, instead she stared at him as he shrugged into his jacket, her lips turned down into a slight frown. Hope bloomed in his chest when she took a sharp breath, as if she were about to say something. Her gaze found his, then dropped to the floor immediately.

  “Thank you, Michael,” she finally said. “It means a lot that you came.”

  Although it wasn’t exactly the open door he’d hoped for, it was something other than her insistence that they needed to break up.

  With a tilt of his head, he forced himself to turn away from her. Walking down the quiet hospital hallway, he almost turned around twice, the ache in his body was so intense. Leaving her when she was finally so close was torture.

  Chapter 24

  Lena let out a heavy sigh as she stepped outside the doors to the rehab facility her mom was in. She’d been there every day to visit for the last week since her mother had finally woken up.

  It was hard. Hard to see her mom struggle, hard to know that she probably wouldn’t ever be completely independent again, hard to fathom going back to New York. She couldn’t leave her mom to fend for herself. Could she?

  Panic gripped her chest as she reached the car, forcing her to rest both hands on the steering wheel and take slow, deep breaths.

  By the time she felt calm enough to drive, her phone started ringing from the depths of her purse. Pulling it out, she frowned at the display. It wasn’t a phone number she recognized.

  “Lena Shirakawa,” she answered, trying to sound professional in case the caller was a client.

  “Hi, Lena. This is Parker Sheffield. I’m Angela Peters’ friend.”

  “The bass player, right?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I know it’s short notice, but I’m getting married in a week and I was hoping we could hire you to do the pictures. We had someone booked but when he found out it’s a same sex wedding, he bailed.”

  Lena rolled her eyes. “Jackass.”

  He let out a sigh. “Yeah. Anyway, Valerie told us you were in town. She said you might be available.”

  “Sure. Email me the date and time so I can put you on my calendar.” She rattled off her email address and smiled to herself after they hung up. She hadn’t done a wedding in a long time. It would be a welcome distraction from everything else in her life.

  Starting the car, she drove the short distance to her mother’s house, dreading the heavy silence she knew would welcome her. It seemed everywhere she went was clouded with a temporary feeling. As though no one wanted to get close because they knew she’d only be leaving again. Even Michael had kept his distance, giving her space to breathe, but she’d found herself missing him even more now that she’d seen him again. She kept expecting him to call or come by, but he hadn’t. Her onl
y solace was Valerie, but even her best friend was wrapped up in her own world with Donovan.

  Rounding the corner to her old neighborhood, she made the reflexive turns toward her childhood home. But just as she approached the house, she accelerated, passing it, needing freedom from the stifling walls. She found herself parking outside of her favorite coffee shop, an eclectic place called Cups. The air held the warm smell of roasted coffee, and familiarity blanketed her. A lone guitarist sat perched on a stool in the center of the stage at the end of the room, soft acoustic music filling the space. She had to smile. This place was like a safety net.

  After ordering a cup of coffee and selecting a corner table, she wandered to the wall of bookshelves and scanned the titles.

  “How’s your mom?” Michael’s gravelly voice sent a wave of need through her.

  Turning to face him, she took a steadying breath. “Her left side is really weak, but she’s in a rehab facility and doing physical therapy.” His hazel eyes found hers and she had to hold on to the bookcase to keep from closing the distance between them.

  “Can we talk? I’ve got so much I need to tell you.” He reached out, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

  Heartbeat racing, she swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded. This was why she’d run in the first place. She didn’t have the strength she needed when he was this close. “Here?” she managed.

  “No. I can’t do this in public, baby. Come home?”

  Home? God, she wanted to.

  “I don’t know.”

  Raking a hand through his hair, he let out a groan. “Damn it, baby. I am not going to have my heart ripped out in front of the whole fucking town again. Come home with me so we can do this in private.”

  That hit her like a punch to the gut. She didn’t want to hurt him. She was doing this to give him a chance at what he really wanted. “Fine, come on. I’ll follow you.”

  Her nerves had her shaking as she fumbled for her keys, dropping them on the floor. Michael was there, handing them to her and twining his fingers with hers before she could stop him. She wasn’t going to be able to do this. Then suddenly, staring into his eyes, she didn’t want to be anywhere but in his arms.