Peering down, I stare at my once broken limb, pale peach skin with a small smattering of freckles resting beside the arm of my sister. The bluish-gray tint of her pallor, reminding me of the reason that I’m here. She had already succumbed to her injuries when I arrived, no opportunity for me to speak to her one last time.
The monitor beside the bed beeps as the life support urges her body and brain to stay alive, but I know it’s a losing battle. The only reason we’ve kept it on is because my sister is an organ donor.
I’ve been sitting alone in the room since the nurse brought me in about fifteen minutes ago and I haven’t had the courage to look my little sister in the face. The same little sister who used to follow me around the mansion my parent’s called a house and would steal my favorite dolls. The same sister that I hated leaving with my father, but I knew he would never harm her. She was his pride and joy and made sure everyone knew it.
With a deep breath, I bundle up my bravery and take a peek at the head of the bed. Purple and red mar my sister’s face, the same face as my mother. Vivian’s once shiny brown hair is plastered to her and her head is covered in blood. But even through this, I can see the woman she has grown to be – beautiful.
“Oh, Viv,” I choke out as tears pool along my lower lids. I missed so much with my sister. I cut her off with the rest of my family when I escaped my father’s wrath because I knew if I contacted her, she would urge me to come back to make amends.
Regardless of what the country thought of my father, I knew the truth of his cruelty. And when he died of a heart attack two years ago while giving a speech in Congress, I jumped with joy. But the years had torn my sister and me apart and I wasn’t ready to lose all I had learned of myself just to retreat into the shell I had become when I was in our family.
To me, our mother was no better than our father. She turned a blind eye to the abuse because she had been the one to have the affair.
But my hatred had kept me from knowing my sister, my sweet innocent sister caught in the charade of our family tree.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Franklin, and I’ve been working on your sister’s case.”
I turn to find a young woman standing at the end of the bed. She looks as if she’s been standing there a while and I have to wonder how long I’ve been reminiscing about my time with Vivian.
“Hi, Dr. Franklin. I’m Taylor Hughes, Vivian’s sister. Can you tell me what happened? How did you know to reach out to me?”
Surprisingly the doctor reaches for another chair in the room and sidles up beside me. Fear courses through me as she looks saddened by the news she’s about to present.
“Let me start with saying that I’m very sorry for your loss, but it is very kind of you to allow us to harvest her organs for donation.”
“It’s what she wanted. Or so I’m told. I haven’t spoken to my sister for eight years. Which is why I’m surprised that I’m here at all.”
“Hmm. . .” the doctor mumbles as she types something on her tablet resting on her lap.
“It looks like your sister was involved in a high-speed chase last night. She was not the one driving, but it appears it was her boyfriend of a few years. I’m not sure how much you know about your sister’s current lifestyle, but her boyfriend had strong ties with drugs and illegal weapons.”
“What? That doesn’t sound like Vivian. She was a straight-A student.”
“Sometimes people change,” the doctor adds. Can’t argue with her logic.
“What happened to the boyfriend?”
“He arrived DOS – dead on scene. It appears that he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and though your sister had been, the airbags were faulty and didn’t deploy. She suffered severe brain injuries and blood loss. It appears he was carrying several hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of drugs in the car, which is what prompted the chase. I’m told they were pulled over for a brake light being out.
“But, there is one more thing we need to discuss. I spoke with your sister just for a moment when she arrived and brain activity flatlined. The reason we called you, Taylor, is that your sister has a Will and named you the sole guardian with custody of her daughter.”
A gasp escapes my throat as the shock takes hold and threatens to strangle me.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Can I call someone for you?”
“My, uh, my fiancé is in the waiting room.”
“Ok, let me have my nurse bring him in. Discuss the situation and I’ll be back in a little bit with the social worker.”
“A daughter?” I whisper to my sister in surprise. I have a niece and I never even knew. All this time missed when all I needed to do was answer a phone call.
“Here she is,” a voice points out in the hallway and I turn to watch Hunter stroll into the room.
“Are you okay?” he asks, but I turn back to look at my sister as he takes the same seat once occupied by the doctor.
“This is my little sister, Vivian. My half-sister, really,” I begin and I tell him about my mother’s affair and the reason I left home at sixteen. He listens quietly, soaking in every word. I don’t even realize that I’m sobbing until his arm reaches out and pulls me against him. The waterfall flowing freely down my cheeks and chin drench the shirt beneath me.
“She had a daughter, Hunter. A little girl, my niece, and told the doctor that she left her to me in her Will.”
The hand that had been stroking my shoulder stops abruptly and I wait for his retreat.
“A daughter?” he asks just as the doctor walks back into the room with a stern looking man following closely behind.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Franklin,” she says, holding out a hand toward Hunter. If he notices the slight blush on the doctor’s cheeks as he shakes her hand, he doesn’t say. “This is Mr. Sedgwick and he is the social worker assigned to your case. I’m going to step out of the room and let you all get acquainted.”
“Thank you,” Hunter replies for us.
“I want to start off by offering my condolences on your loss today. It’s a tragedy to lose a loved one.”
I nod in response.
“First, I want to discuss the plans for your niece. Until we are able to locate the Will left by your sister, we can only offer temporary custody of the child. In most cases the child would go to the other parent or grandparent, but since we have evidence of your sister requesting you personally and the notion of a Will, we will comply with the parent’s wishes. Just prepare yourself; if we cannot locate the lawyer that contracted the document, then we will have to seek a judge’s approval for you to maintain guardianship and custody. And if the grandparents seek custody, you will need to go to court.”
“Where is she?” I ask, stumbling over the fact that I don’t know my niece's name.
“Tabitha is with a short term foster family until I can meet with you in the environment where she will be living. I will need to complete a background analysis and have you answer a few questions. Until the Will is found, we have to treat this almost as if you’re adopting her.
“I realize that it can be a stressful time, but we want to make it as easy of a transition as we can for the child. Even at her young age, it will be a struggle for her to cope with losing her mother and living in a new place.”
“When can we see her?” Hunter asks, surprising me as he plays along with my fiancé blunder.
“Let’s go ahead and schedule your meeting for Tuesday at your residence. That will give you time to prepare your living space for her arrival. If all goes to plan, as I’m sure that it will, I will have the foster family bring her over afterward for a supervised meeting.
“As long as I feel and witness a smooth transition for the child, she can be given to you in a full capacity on Wednesday. In the meantime, the hospital and I are working to locate your sister’s Will.”
A knock on the door sounds and the doctor peeks in just as Mr. Sedgwick hands me his business card. “Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. It can be quite
the transition to become parents overnight, but you both look like you’ll do just fine together.”
As one, Hunter and I give our thanks to the social worker and watch as he speaks with the doctor and then exits the room. With his arm still firmly wrapped around my shoulder, Hunter tightens his hold and draws my attention toward him. His eyes convey a blend of worry and excitement. “I’m going to step out for a minute so that you can talk to the doctor. I’ll be right outside the door, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, my eyes never leaving his as I try to absorb his strength while I feel as if I’m losing a battle with my own.
Hunter leans forward and presses a gentle kiss on my lips, leaving me with a stunned look on my face before he leaves the room.
The doctor explains the process for organ removal and donation and clarifies that they will keep Vivian on life support for blood supply but that full brain death has occurred. She asks how we want to claim the body and I stare at her in confusion until she explains if we wish for the morgue to send for a casket burial or to a crematorium.
“We also have some of your sister’s belongings that were found at the accident site. I realize that you said you hadn’t seen your sister in a while, but I believe she may have been looking for you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Inside her purse was this note,” the doctor explains as she hands me a tiny slip of paper with a handwritten note.
TAYLOR, CALL GRANDMA HELMS
876-555-2245
Grandma Helms?
The only grandmother I knew growing up was a nasty old woman that was no different than her son. Born and bred from money she was as crisp and cold as the brand new dollar bills lining her wallet. We never knew of our grandparents on our mother’s side. They were never spoken of in our home.
“Thank you,” I whisper to the doctor as I tuck the piece of paper into the back pocket of my jean shorts.
“I’ll let you and your fiancé visit for a little while longer, but then I’ll have to ask you to leave. We’ve already had requests for some of your sister’s organs. She was very healthy, despite the chaos that ended her life. Let one of the nurses know if you need anything, Taylor.”
“I will.”
I hold my sister’s hand for the last time and try to recall how she looked eight years ago. Those are the memories I’ll have to share with her daughter when she asks about her mother.
“Hey.” Hunter’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “I grabbed the paperwork from the nurse’s station for Vivian and Tabitha.”
“Thanks.” Squeezing the hand in my grasp one last time, I say goodbye to my little sister, then make my way out of the room.
“Are you okay?” Hunter asks as we load into the elevator and I consider his question for a moment. Am I okay? I broke down in the room earlier, but I’m not sure if it was because of the loss of my sister or the loss of what could have been. Maybe we could have been friends, maybe we could have patched things up and I could have gotten to know my niece. Maybe we could have been a family again. I said goodbye to my family eight years ago after years of heartache. The regrets are what I mourn.
“I’m better than I probably should be. I didn’t know my sister. We could have passed on the street as strangers and not known differently. I’m worried about the responsibility handed to me. What if I screw it up, Hunter?” I ask honestly as the weight of the situation settles on my shoulders.
“You won’t. We won’t let you.”
“We?” I ask as we pile out of the elevator and I see the grouping of people waiting with sorrow on their faces. Hunter’s cousins and their wives rush to hug me and offer their commiserations.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, disappointed in myself for the hint of joy I feel at their arrival.
“Hunter called us and said that you need our help. So, here we are,” Cooper points out, freshly tanned from his honeymoon with Sara.
Chapter Five – Hunter
I CAN SENSE THE panic swelling inside of Taylor about to burst free as she inches closer to my side. The notion that in a few short days she’s going to have a toddler living with her is probably starting to officially sink in.
Elle, Jackson’s wife, speaks up. “We’re going to take you to the baby store to get some supplies and the guys are going to run by my house and grab some of the furniture that you’ll need. Kennedy just outgrew her toddler bed so it will work perfectly for you.” The women must zoom in on the alarm radiating from Taylor. “Or we can just help. You don’t have to take my hand me downs,” Elle tries to explain.
“No, please. It’s not that,” Taylor rushes to point out. “Hunter, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.”
She wraps her arms across her body like a shield as she steps toward a small hallway; I dutifully follow.
“What’s going on, Taylor? I can tell right now that if you could, you would bolt out of here faster than a cat with its tail on fire.”
“I. . .I hadn’t really thought about any of this, but, Hunter, I can’t take Tabitha.”
I look at her in shock. . .and then in anger. The second I heard what happened to the child’s parents and that she was given into Taylor’s custody I swore that I would do anything to help. I’ve always had a soft spot for kids, which is a stark contrast to my love of bachelorhood.
“Why can’t you take her?” I growl, startling her.
“Because,” she replies, her chin wobbling and a sheen grows across her eyes. “I have no job and I live in a studio. That’s no place to raise a child.”
I really want to call her an idiot, but I bite my tongue. I can see the torment quickly eating at her, and if I let it fester or feed it further, it will devour her alive.
“What am I going to do, Hunter?” she asks frantically, her hands diving into her hair in fear and frustration.
Resting my hands on her shoulders, I halt her pacing and force her to look up at me. “Hey, I said I was going to help you, and I meant every word. I have space at my house for you and Tabitha, you can move in with me.”
“Why would you do that?” she asks in surprise as if the notion of me assisting her never crossed her mind.
Smirking down at her, I slide my hand up from her shoulder to rest on her cheek. “Because I’m your fiancé, remember?”
The corners of her lips perk up and I can see her panic starting to dissipate. “I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?”
“Naw, I’ll be a great husband; just think about all of the amazing things I can do. Like twist off the lids of jars, reach the top shelves in upper cabinets, move heavy furniture, the possibilities are endless. And let's not forget the best part of having me as your fiancé. . .”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
A nurse whizzes down the hall, passing by us without a second glance.
Leaning in toward Taylor’s ear, I whisper, “I know all the ways to make you scream my name,” and lean back after placing a quick kiss on her cheek. I bite back my grin when I notice the redness growing on her cheeks.
“So, deal? You’ll move in?” I ask, ignoring how eagerly I want her to agree. The thought of having her under my roof at my disposal excites a part of me I don’t want to spend time analyzing.
“Only until all of this is over and I can find a place of my own. I’ll do anything to make sure that they don’t send Tabitha away. God, I can’t even think about the fact I was considering turning her away. She’s my family.”
“You were just scared and reacting to your fear, it’s normal. Now, you have a group of people wanting to help any way they can. Take their help, Taylor.”
She nods as I wrap my arm around her shoulder and guide her back out to the waiting room where my family stands together, waiting for us.
“Hey,” Taylor murmurs to the group and Elle jumps forward, tugging Taylor from my grasp and wrapping her in her embrace.
“I am so sorry if I said something to upset you. I can’t imagine what it must feel li
ke to learn you’ve lost your sister and now have a child to look after.”
“You didn’t say a thing, Elle. I was just in shock. Truthfully, I haven’t spoken to my family in so long that they’ve become a distant memory. I just want to do whatever I can to make sure Tabitha has the life I never did.”
The group collectively remains silent at Taylor's confession. I know my family is itching to ask for more information. They know as little about Taylor as I did, until today.
Sara speaks up, breaking the awkward silence. “Well, this seems like a great time to go buy some baby clothes and furniture. Hunter, if you want to meet us at the department store with your truck, you can help us haul things back to your house.”
“We can grab two more trucks from the warehouse,” Jackson adds, and I nod in agreement.
“Sure,” I agree. “After, I can take Taylor back to her apartment to pack up her things and speak with her landlord. And since we’re now pretending to be engaged we’re going to want to make my house look as lived in as possible, so, ladies, I’m letting you run wild with that one.”
The women simultaneously grin like the character in the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Oh yeah, there isn’t going to be one bit of surface left in my house that won’t have some sort of feminine touch.
Great. What the hell have I gotten myself into?
It takes about thirty minutes for Jackson, Cooper, and me to rally up the vehicles and get to the department store, the same one Taylor and I had been at this morning. It feels like a lifetime ago that I saw her standing on the shelves reaching for a package. A lifetime ago that I felt her soft skin and craved for her to invite me back to her place to repeat our last and only time together.
We park the trucks in the loading zone and I text Elle and Sara to let them know that we’re here. I probably should add Taylor to my phone if we’re going to make this charade as believable as possible.
After ten minutes pass, I begin to worry and consider calling one of the girls to make sure everything is okay, but then I glance up and watch as Sara and Elle push an oversized cart holding boxes and bags our way with radiant smiles on their faces. But it’s the woman behind them with her frown and sulking stance that grabs my attention.
Stolen Hearts (The Stolen Series Book 3) Page 4
