There are a lot of Elizabeth Smith’s in the world. Just not my Elizabeth Smith.
It’s as if she never existed.
Diane pops her head around the curtain as I’m finishing up with Mr. Howard. “There’s someone to see you out in the waiting room.”
My heart pounds. Someone to see me? Could it be her? Everyone else I know would text me.
I rip off my gloves and head out past ground zero, looking through the glass to see if it’s her. But she’s not there.
I walk through the doors.
“Dr. Stone?” a man asks.
He’s a big guy. Intimidating. Taller than me and heavier by a good fifty pounds. He has a crew cut and is clean shaven, with a few scars on his face that reek of fist-fights.
“How can I help you?” I ask.
He pulls a picture out of his pocket. “Your receptionist said she recognized this girl. Said you might have treated her some time ago.”
I look at the picture and try not to react. It takes all my willpower to hold in my emotions. My questions. Because I’m staring at a picture of Elizabeth. Only she’s a brunette. And, Jesus, she’s even more beautiful than she was as a blonde.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” I say.
“Grant,” he says. “Grant Lucas.”
Holy motherfucker.
I try to stay calm. “Why are you looking for this girl?” I ask, my heart beating so fucking loud, I’m positive he must hear it.
He pulls out a badge and flashes it at me. I grab it before he can put it back in his pocket.
I examine it and then look up at him with a hard stare. “Your badge says Chicago P.D. Looks like you’re a little out of your jurisdiction.”
“Have you seen her or not?” he asks, getting pissed as he rips his badge out of my hand.
The wheels in my head are spinning. I don’t have to reveal any patient information. Not even to a cop. Especially not to a Chicago cop. Then again, if this guy is her husband, he might keep pressing the hospital for information until he gets what he wants.
I study the picture some more, as if I’m trying to remember her. “You know, I do remember her. I mean, she’s hot, what’s not to remember?”
He snorts in amusement. Good, I need him on my side.
“How long ago?” he asks.
I shrug. “A few months. Maybe more. She had a cut on her face,” I lie. “Said she was mad because she was heading to . . . I’m not sure, but Boston maybe? Said she was going on some job interview there.”
“A cut huh?” he asks.
“Yup. Four or five stitches if I recall.”
He scrubs his hands across his face and I get a glimpse of a tattoo on his right wrist. Oh, shit! It looks just like Elizabeth’s.
I try to keep him talking so I have a chance to get a better look at it. “Hope her job wasn’t for a modeling contract,” I say, laughing. “Shame really. She had a great face, too.”
“I’m going to need to see her hospital records,” he says.
“Do you have a subpoena?” I ask.
“No.”
I shrug nonchalantly like I don’t really care. “I wish I could help, but hospital records are sealed records. And since it was so long ago, it’s not like I can just get her chart. It’s been archived.”
I look around the room, pretending I’m making sure we’re alone, like I’m about to give him sensitive information. “But, hey, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure you’d get much out of seeing her chart. If I recall, the girl didn’t give us any information. She was a closed book. Maybe she got clocked by a john and was afraid to give her address. Whatever it was, she was in and out quickly. Hell, I don’t even remember her name.”
He sighs in frustration. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card.
It’s now when I realize he hasn’t mentioned her pregnancy. Or a baby. Does he not know?
“If you ever see her again, give me a shout. It’s important. She has something I can’t get from anyone else.”
“Hey no problem.” I take the card and extend my hand to him.
When he shakes it, I don’t let go. I turn his hand so I can see his wrist. “Great ink, man. I’ve been thinking of getting one myself. You don’t happen to know of any good places here in New York, do you?”
I check out his tattoo as I speak to him. It’s the same fucking one she has. Except his is more manly. And his has a different name.
Alexa.
Chapter Thirty-five
I shake my head. Elizabeth Smith. It’s hard for me to think of her with any other name. But that’s not her name.
Alexa Lucas—that’s who she is.
I sit here and stare at a copy of her Illinois driver’s license. It’s her. It’s definitely her.
“She went missing more than a year ago,” Ethan says. “Just up and disappeared without a trace. Family members have been searching for her ever since, but with no leads, the case went cold.”
I called Ethan as soon as Grant left the hospital a few nights ago. I knew if anyone could get to the bottom of this, he could. Now I sit across the desk from him at his agency as he explains that the woman I thought I loved was not who she said she was.
And all at once, every fear I’ve ever had about her is coming true. Especially when he hands me her hospital records. Multiple records from different ERs around Chicago with Alexa’s name on them. Facial contusions, a broken rib, a deep laceration on her collarbone.
I shake my head thinking of the game ‘Never have I ever’ when she didn’t want to talk about that particular scar.
My blood starts to boil when I think of that scumbag from the other night laying a hand on her. Why didn’t she tell me? She was in a hospital. A safe place. I could have protected her. Ethan has lots of connections. We could have made it work. But she never gave me the chance. She just ran.
All this time, I thought it was because I lied. But maybe it’s something more. Maybe she got spooked—saw someone from her past whom she couldn’t risk recognizing her.
Maybe it wasn’t me at all.
All of a sudden, there is way more to her story than I thought possible.
He slides another piece of paper across his desk. “Here’s their wedding announcement,” Ethan says, pointing to the photocopy of a page from a Chicago newspaper.
I pick it up and study it, reading every word carefully. Then my eyes shoot back to Ethan. “Kessler? Are you fucking kidding me? Her maiden name is Kessler?”
Ethan cocks his head to the side. “Is that significant?”
My head is shaking in disbelief as I try to process this information. “Elizabeth, er, Alexa, told me Caden Kessler was her favorite baseball player. I thought she was just a super-fan, Ethan. He’s her goddamn brother!”
Ethan pulls more papers out of a folder, nodding his head as he reads something. “Yup,” he says. “Caden Kessler grew up in Baltimore. He has one sister, Alexa. Two years older.”
Suddenly, everything makes sense about the day I invited him to meet her.
I can’t believe Caden was right down the hall from her. Fifty feet from seeing that his sister was alive and well and about to give birth to his niece.
I replay the day in my head. She looked out the door at me. Maybe she saw him. It’s the only explanation for her mysterious sudden illness. I knew it didn’t add up. Her interest in baseball. In him. And then her unwillingness to see him.
But not everything makes sense. “Why was she hiding from her brother?” I muse aloud.
Ethan shrugs. “If she wanted to hide the baby from Grant, it may have been her only choice. Alexa’s father is out of the picture and her mother is deceased, so Caden is probably the first person Grant would have gone to in order to find her. Abused women often have to cut off ties with their entire family in order to protect themselves and their children.”
I run my hands through my hair. Shit. My instinct is to find her. Protect her. But I already tried protecting her once and she d
idn’t let me.
Things are different now. Six months ago, if I’d found her, I think I would have thrown her over my shoulder and dragged her to my apartment, baby stroller and all.
But now—I’ve had time to think about things. And even with knowing her identity and more details of her past, it’s obvious my feelings were not reciprocated. She was nice to me. She even kissed me when I kissed her. But I was her doctor. And patients sometimes mistakenly see their doctors as saviors. Not men they can build a life with.
The fact is, she didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. She didn’t love me enough to trust me.
She stole my heart and then she tore it to shreds. Even if she didn’t mean to.
I gaze through the window of Ethan’s office. I can’t keep doing this. I have to move on. I have moved on. I’ve gone back to basics. My job. That is what I’m living for. I never should have lost focus. I’ve vowed never to allow myself to get close to a patient again. Get close to a woman again. At least until I’ve accomplished my goals.
“Caden should know,” I say, gathering up all the paperwork and putting it into a folder. “I need to contact him and tell him everything. But then I’m done.”
~ ~ ~
I pick up my third beer of the night and crack it open, waiting for my pepperoni pizza to arrive.
I’m spent. Exhausted from my meeting with Caden. When he was here earlier, we put all the pieces together.
Caden never liked Grant. He didn’t think he was right for his sister. He and Alexa would get into arguments about him from time to time. But Caden was young and focused solely on baseball. He blames himself for not seeing the signs. For not being there for her when she needed him.
Since Alexa’s disappearance, he’d been suspicious of Grant, but without evidence to go on, there was nothing he could do. Grant kept showing up at Caden’s door, always wanting to come inside to talk—to ‘touch base’ with the brother-in-law he never gave a rat’s ass about before Alexa went missing.
We surmised that Grant could be holding something over her. Blackmailing her maybe, which is why she’s running but didn’t seek out her brother. It’s obvious, however, that Grant doesn’t know where she is, only that perhaps she’s in New York to be closer to Caden. But that seems to be the extent of his knowledge of her whereabouts.
Ethan thought contacting Grant would be counterproductive. Our hands are tied. We have no way of knowing if she’s okay, but we can’t go to Grant without him finding out we know something, which could make it worse for her in the long run.
When my doorbell rings, I put down my beer and grab a twenty from my wallet for the pizza guy. I swing the door open to see a petite redhead holding a small child. Before I can get the words out to tell her she’s got the wrong apartment, my heart lodges in my goddamn throat.
It’s her.
Part Two
Alexa
Chapter Thirty-six
He looks at me like he’s seen a ghost. He looks down at a sleeping Ellie on my shoulder. He sticks his head out into the hallway and checks both directions before he grabs my arm and pulls me inside, pushing the stroller in after us.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, closing the door behind me.
I find it hard to speak, looking into his eyes. I’ve dreamed about these eyes. The eyes that can’t seem to decide on a color. His dark-blonde hair is longer than it was last year. Edgier. And his five o’clock shadow . . . He’s everything I remembered and more.
And for the millionth time over the past six months, I scold myself for leaving the hospital the way I did. For leaving him.
But I did what I had to do. What I thought was right at the time.
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. I don’t know him well enough to read what’s behind his eyes. He looks angry. He looks relieved. He looks confused.
“Are you in trouble?” he asks, holding out his arm in an invitation for me to go into his living room.
I look around the expansive room. Oh, my God. I knew this building was in a nice area, but this is . . . I don’t even know. This is unreal.
“Kyle, do you live with your parents?”
He shakes his head. “No. I live here alone. Can we not change the subject, please? Are you in trouble?” he asks in an irritated and impatient tone.
Still distracted, my jaw drops as I look around and take in the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city, the chef’s kitchen with oversized refrigerator, the big-screen television.
Ellie squirms in my arms trying to get comfortable, causing me to break my gaze of our surroundings. “Uh, sorry. No,” I tell him.
He blows out a breath as if he’s relieved. “Do you want to lay her down?” he asks, pointing to the sofa.
I nod and gently lay her down on the exquisite soft leather, propping up pillows to keep her from rolling off.
“What’s her name?” he asks, looking down at her. “You know, since you ran off without ever telling me that—or anything for that matter.”
I close my eyes in shame. I know I have a lot of explaining to do. It’s just that I still haven’t figured out how. After all, how do you tell the man you want to be with that you’re married? And that your husband beat you, demeaned you, raped you. And that you’ll always be married to him so you can protect your daughter.
“Her name is Ellie,” I tell him.
“Nice name,” he says. “I guess there were already too many girls named Alexa.”
My eyes widen in horror when he says my real name. I instinctively reach for Ellie so I can pick her up and protect her, but Kyle stands in my way.
“No,” he says. “Let her sleep.”
“I . . . how?” My heartbeat is pounding in my ears. My throat becomes thick, and tears pool in my eyes, threatening to spill onto my cheeks.
How could he know? I was so careful. More than a year and nobody has recognized me. He hasn’t found me.
“Eliz—” He shakes his head. “Alexa, it’s okay. You’re safe here. I know everything.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, biting back the sob rattling in my chest.
I eye the front door and then the balcony. I wonder if there is a fire escape. I find myself needing to know where all the exits are in case I need to run. Old habits are hard to break.
“Sit,” he says, pointing to the sofa Ellie is lying on. “I’ll tell you what I know. But first, let me get you a drink. Water? Beer? Something stronger?”
I look around his place again. It’s nice. Christian-Grey nice. He’s got money. People with money think they can buy anything. And if they can’t buy it, sometimes they just take it.
Stop it, Lexi, I tell myself. Kyle is not Grant. Back at the hospital, he was nothing like him. He was helpful and kind and funny and . . . everything I didn’t know I wanted in a man. And I left. Then I started to make a life for myself and for Ellie.
And now I might be risking everything to come back.
I trust my instincts and sit down on his sofa. “Water is fine.”
He walks to his kitchen, never taking his eyes off me as if he thinks I’m going to run away again. After he reaches into his refrigerator, he pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. It looks like he’s sending a text. I want to ask to whom, but I lost the right to that information when I walked out of the hospital.
Then his doorbell rings and I jump to my feet, ready to pick up Ellie and make my escape.
“Elizabeth, it’s okay—sorry . . . Alexa. I ordered a pizza. I thought you were the pizza guy.”
I let out a long breath. “Oh.”
I sit back down as he hands me my water and makes his way to the door.
He puts the pizza on the coffee table and sits in the chair next to the couch. He leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “Grant came to the hospital a few days ago.”
My heart stops. It stops beating and I die for a second.
I look over at Ellie, small and innocent, her little chest rising and f
alling as she sleeps peacefully. I don’t want her to live in a world where men like her father even exist. I’m scared for her. Everything I do is about this girl. Loving her. Protecting her.
I wipe the tears that cloud my vision as I watch her sleep.
Then my heart starts beating again. It thunders in my chest as I realize what is happening. I stand up, ready to pull Ellie in my arms and race out of here. “Is that who you just texted? Oh, God, Kyle, did you tell Grant where I am?”
“No,” he says, standing up with me. “Hell, no. I would never do that, Elizabeth—Damn it!—Alexa. I told you you’re safe here. Sit down and let me explain.”
Maybe I was wrong to come here. I waited too long. Just another mistake in the long list of epic mistakes I’ve made in my life. Marrying Grant. Letting him control me the way he did. Being naïve enough to think things would get better.
“Alexa,” Kyle says, motioning to the couch. “Please.”
I take a deep breath and sit back down on his sofa, bracing myself for what he’s about to tell me.
“He didn’t tell me he was your husband. He flashed his badge, making it seem like he was on the job even though he wasn’t NYPD. I gave him a made-up story about you coming in for stitches. I said you were heading out of town for a job interview. The only reason I know your real name is because I saw his tattoo. He didn’t mention the fact that you were pregnant. Did he not know?”
I shake my head.
He lets out a sigh. A sigh so deep it looks like he’s in pain. “He hurt you,” he says.
It’s not a question.
I nod.
“And you left him when you found out you were pregnant.” He looks over at Ellie. “You left to protect her.”
I nod again.
“But why, Alexa? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you trust me? Why the hell did you just run off and leave me?” he asks, his voice cracking in anguish. “I could have helped you, you know.”
Stone Vows (A Stone Brothers Novel) Page 18
