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Ties That Bind

Page 34

by Rachel Ann Nunes


  At the curb André waited, a crowd of impatient pedestrians gathering around him. He studied his brother’s face over the cars that rushed by. He looked good. He’d regained his strength completely after his third kidney transplant just before his marriage to Rebekka. With luck and a lot of prayers, it would be years before he had to face another operation. André felt gladness in his heart for the miracle of his brother’s life.

  A commotion behind Marc drew André’s attention. Somewhere a woman shouted “My purse!” A small man in dark clothing shoved into the crowd around Marc. Something large flew into the street. Brakes screeched, and there was a sickening thud. More frightened screams pierced the air.

  “He’s hit! He’s hit!” a woman yelled in a high, excited voice. “He was pushed!”

  “Call an ambulance!” someone else called.

  André froze, a feeling of horror seeping into his body. He scanned the crowd across the intersection for his brother’s familiar face.

  He couldn’t see it.

  He’s just helping the victim, André reasoned. That would be like him. The traffic had stalled, and André was carried into the street with the crowd, most of them pausing near the fallen figure.

  Marc.

  André was on his knees in a minute next to his brother’s prostrate body. Tears wet his face, and his entire being trembled with fear. “Marc, I’m here,” he said, almost unable to make his throat force out the words. “Hold on. You’re going to be all right.”

  Marc’s eyes slowly opened. “André . . .” He trailed off and then said, “Take care of Rebekka.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. We need you! Rebekka needs you.”

  “I always knew our time would be short.” A trickle of red liquid gushed from Marc’s parted lips as he struggled to speak.

  “Don’t say that.” André gripped his brother’s shoulders, careful not to raise him from the pavement or to cause more damage than the car had already inflicted.

  “Please,” Marc said with a groan.

  Suddenly André was consumed with guilt. “Marc, it was me. I was the other man that time she called off your engagement before you got married. I didn’t mean to hurt either of you.”

  Marc’s brown eyes turned in his direction, but they were unfocused. “I know . . . I mean, I didn’t know at the time, but later I saw how much you cared for her . . . how much she cared for you. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “She loves you—she always has. In the end, I urged her to marry you. Can you forgive me?”

  “For loving Rebekka?” Marc asked, his breathing coming in gasps. “There’s nothing . . . to forgive. How could you—anyone—not . . . love her? I asked you once before . . . when that last kidney failed . . . asking you again. If . . . anything happens to me . . . make her happy.”

  Sirens cut through Marc’s words. André leaned over and put his wet cheek next to his brother’s, his mouth close to his ear. “Fight, Marc! You must fight! I can’t be the one to tell Rebekka something happened to you. I can’t. It would destroy her. You have to make it. Please, Marc—I don’t want to lose you!”

  “Promise me.” Marc’s voice was faint but urgent.

  “Yes, of course. You know I’ll do anything for you.” André fumbled in his pocket for his consecrated oil, hoping to give his brother a priesthood blessing.

  He was too late.

  Marc’s eyes closed and his breathing stopped.

  “Help me!” André screamed, checking for a pulse. A woman knelt on the other side of Marc, and they began CPR.

  You will make it! André thought at his brother, over and over. Don’t you dare die on me!

  The ambulance arrived and the EMTs took over. André fell back to give them room.

  “Call it,” one man said finally, shaking his head.

  “No!” André pleaded. “You keep trying—or I will! Please, he’s my brother.”

  To their credit the men kept working on Marc until even André had to admit that his brother wasn’t coming back. He sobbed as they drew a sheet over Marc’s too-still face and put him inside the ambulance, away from the interested stares of the crowd.

  The police began to ask questions. Still sitting on the black road, André put his head in his hands, stunned by the agony knifing into his soul. Vaguely he was aware of someone pulling him to his feet and pushing him toward the sidewalk.

  A welcome feeling of disbelief settled over him. With hands that didn’t seem to be his own, he took out his cell phone and called his father, transferring part of his terrible burden.

  Traffic was moving again shortly and the ambulance had driven away. André didn’t go with it. What good could his going to the hospital do for Marc now? There was something more important André must do, a trust he promised to fulfill.

  With a heavy, aching heart he walked back to the restaurant to face Rebekka.

  * * *

  Rebekka heard the faint sound of sirens but wasn’t really concerned. Nothing could penetrate the warm cocoon of contentment around her. Sitting at her table, she scanned the menu, thinking she would try something new in honor of this day.

  She didn’t know what made her look up just then, but she saw André coming toward her, his face a pasty white against the dark sunglasses. Her hand froze at what she could see of his expression.

  Something was horribly wrong.

  He threaded around the linen screens that nominally divided the tables in this section of the restaurant, giving the occupants a semblance of privacy. The crystal dewdrop chandelier overhead seemed suddenly too bright. Couldn’t that be what made André so pale?

  She rose to meet him, knocking over her wine glass, filled with ice water against the heat of summer. The water turned the burgundy cloth red as the spill seeped over the neatly laid table on its way down to the carpet.

  “It’s—it’s Marc,” André said.

  All the gladness drained from Rebekka’s heart. She tried to peer past the glasses to see André eyes, but all she saw was a woman she no longer knew, staring back at her with a terrified expression.

  “No,” she whispered. “No!”

  André’s strong hands gripped her arms. “He was”—he swallowed with difficulty—“hit by a car.” Tears cascaded from under the dark glass, seeming unreal. Rebekka wanted to rip off his glasses and shatter them beneath her heel—anything to see the truth beneath. But her trembling hands wouldn’t obey her command.

  “I’m so sorry.” His lips trembled with the words. “Rebekka, I—”

  She pushed away from him and started wildly toward the exit, uncaring of the interested stares of her fellow diners, peering around their screens. In two steps he caught up with her and held her back.

  “I have to get to Marc!” she cried. Her chest began to hurt, and she tried to suck in breath to relieve the pain. “I have to hurry. If he’s hurt, he’ll need me!”

  “No.” André’s arms were like stone as she struggled within their circle, trying to free herself. Her hand flew out, unintentionally striking his face, and his glasses fell with a soft sound to the plush carpet. His grief-stricken eyes met hers, and in that moment she saw the truth she’d craved.

  She wished she hadn’t.

  A mournful cry escaped her lips—a cry of profound despair. She felt herself sway toward him, and then gave herself up to the blessed darkness.

  END OF SNEAK PEEK. If you would like to purchase Twice in a Lifetime, please click here. Don’t miss the bonus preview of House Without Lies coming up next! To learn more about the author and her books, please continue to the About the Author section following the bonus preview.

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  1

  I looked both ways as I headed into the back alley behind the store, not because I was embarrassed, but because I didn’t want to get Payden in trouble for slipping out to meet me there. The boy was going to a lot of effort to help me, and my runaway girls always needed the food he donated. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my car today, and I was already balancin
g two bags of groceries I’d purchased when I’d gone inside the store to signal Payden that I was here. So whatever he had for us would make my walk home that much more difficult.

  He was already outside in the alley, waiting at the back door by the green Dumpster, his round, heavily-freckled face grinning as always. The roundness made him look younger than his seventeen years, and rather innocent.

  “Hey, Lily,” he greeted me, shifting the large box in his arms so he could give a friendly wave. His blue apron was splashed with something that had turned it purple, and the sagging material made him look chubby. He puffed a breath upward to blow away the straight-cut brown hair that hung like a shield over his brown eyes.

  “Hey, Payden.” I hooked the grocery bags over my wrists and pushed them toward my elbows, freeing up my hands so I could take the box from him. “Thank you so much.”

  “Got bread, bagels, muffins, and cookies today. Should last if you freeze them.”

  I could also see dented cans, a few vegetables that would make a fabulous soup, and a gallon of expiring milk. “This is great. Are you sure you won’t get into trouble? That other clerk in there was looking at me kind of strange.”

  He shrugged. “Makes no sense to throw it in the trash if you’re right here.” He laughed. “I can always say you wrestled me for it.” His smile dimmed slightly, and he waited only a second to add, “How is she?”

  “Elsie’s doing great. Really. The bruising is almost gone. I’ll try to bring her next time, if she’ll come.”

  His smile returned. “Then she didn’t run away again.”

  “Nope. She still thinks whoever she’s running from is looking for her, but no one’s tracked her down yet. Plus, she’s worried child services will find her and make her go back.”

  He folded his arms, looking for all the world as if he wanted to do battle for her. The expression sat oddly on his young face. “They probably would. She’s better off with you.”

  If going back to her family or staying with me were the only options, I was the better choice—one glance at the picture I’d taken of Elsie after finding her in this very alley three weeks ago was proof of that.

  I’d heard Elsie’s pitiful sobs from the main street and hurried to find her collapsed on the ground near the Dumpster, which she’d apparently been trying to open to find food. Her numerous cuts were old, but not healing, and a deep black and green bruise mottled most of her feverish face. When I’d lifted Elsie up, her battered ribs showed through a gaping rip in her shirt.

  That’s when Payden had found us and given me that first box of expired groceries. He was a kindred spirit. Too bad he wasn’t five years older. But then, even men my age seemed too young these days. All they cared about was partying, scraping by in their university courses, and more partying.

  “Thanks again.” I didn’t tell him Elsie hadn’t gone outside at all since last week when our neighbor on the second floor had seen her in the stairwell and questioned her about where she lived. Knowing would only make Payden feel bad, and it wasn’t something he could change.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned to go inside but hesitated at the door. “Hey, you should really talk to my cousin. I told you he’s working at a place here in Phoenix that helps troubled kids. Teen Remake, or something. He’s got connections, you know? He’s dropping some stuff off for me soon. If you wait just a minute, I could introduce you.”

  “I don’t think so. I can’t betray Elsie’s trust. She’s been through enough.” I could probably be charged for harboring a minor, and if my own family found out, I suspected they would come down on the side of the law. Well, all but my sister, Tessa, who had helped me out more than once in the past few months. Anyway, it wasn’t likely Payden’s cousin could do anything more than I could about helping Elsie.

  “Think about it,” Payden urged.

  “I will.”

  I trudged up the alley, tripping once on an old tire someone had left in the way but catching myself before I fell. Lugging the groceries all the way back to my apartment on foot wasn’t something I was looking forward to. Saffron, the oldest of the runaways who lived with me, had chosen a rotten day to borrow my car, but her job interview this morning had to come first.

  Cars honked and whizzed past as I reached the main street. Downtown Phoenix was never quiet, it seemed, and today was particularly busy. The air already felt hot and dry on my face.

  “Lily!”

  I turned at the voice and saw Payden, but this time he stood in the front doorway of the small grocery store. A man I’d never seen before was with him, and I hoped Payden wasn’t in trouble for helping me. Would they take back the groceries?

  As I watched, the man pushed past Payden and stepped out onto the wide sidewalk. My heart stopped. He was a good two heads taller than Payden and handsome enough that I remembered I wasn’t wearing makeup, and that my messy ponytail had to be more mess than ponytail.

  “My cousin’s going to help you get those to your car,” Payden said, nodding encouragingly. He jerked his head to the side, as if listening to someone from behind him. “Gotta go.”

  The relief inside me that Payden wasn’t in trouble was canceled out by the amused smile on the man’s face. Without introducing himself, he reached for the box. “So, where’s your car?”

  His black hair was short except on top in the front, where it partially waved, arching up and then down in a way that I found compelling. His eyes, also dark, spoke of something exotic. Up close, not even one freckle marred his face, but there was a bit of a five o’clock shadow, as if he’d missed shaving today.

  This was Payden’s cousin? If I’d known he was this attractive, I might have hit him up for help a long time ago.

  I kept hold of the box. “I didn’t bring it. Sorry. But it’s okay. I don’t need help.”

  “I don’t mind walking to your place. Where do you live?” He tugged again gently on the box, his bronzed arms brushing mine. I couldn’t tell if his skin color came from heredity or the sun.

  “Are you sure you’re Payden’s cousin? Because you don’t look like him.”

  He laughed, a sound that warmed me clear through to my stomach. “People say that a lot. But we are cousins—our mothers are sisters. I just have a bit more variety in my gene pool from my dad’s side.”

  Definitely a combination that was working for him. “Well, I’m used to carrying the boxes Payden gives me. But thank you.”

  He lifted the box from my arms anyway. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you home?”

  “Maybe you just want to know where I live.”

  Again the laugh. “Actually, I do want to know. That way I’ll know where to pick you up when we go out.”

  When we go out? A thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach. “Who said I’m going out with you?”

  He gave me a slow grin that only increased my heartbeat. “You’ll come around. Now where are we going?”

  All at once, I wanted to let him help. I’d been doing this alone for so long, and I couldn’t recall when I’d last been on a date—or flirted with a guy. Certainly not in the past six months.

  “Okay,” I said. Letting this gorgeous stranger carry a box ten blocks wasn’t going to hurt either of us. “But keep up. I have stuff to do. And my roommates are waiting for me.”

  “Roommates, huh?”

  “I have a few.”

  Six to be exact. Girls living on the street seemed to have some kind of internal radar where I was concerned. They appeared in my vicinity, obviously in need, and I couldn’t help taking them home. Elsie, our newest addition, had been the last straw for my old roommates, but I was still trying to see getting kicked out of their apartment as a good thing. My new place was a dump, but at least the girls didn’t have to hide in my room or sneak in only at night to sleep. And there were no complaints about them stealing food.

  “So, have you lived here long?” I asked him.

  “Five years. I came for school, but I love it here
and I don’t think I’ll ever leave. I’m from Tucson originally. You?”

  “Flagstaff. I’ve been here for most of three years. It’s a nice place—well, not downtown so much but the city in general.” I wouldn’t tell him what I liked best was being away from Flagstaff and my parents. “Is your whole family here?”

  “Just Payden and his mom. His dad died a few years back. That’s one of the reasons I moved here, to help them out. My family’s still in Tucson. I have three brothers and two sisters.”

  “That many?”

  He laughed again, and it made me smile just to hear it. “Yeah. You have any?”

  “One sister. She’s here, too. Across town.” Tessa didn’t know I’d moved, and I was a little embarrassed to tell her. She’d warned me it would happen, but how could I have left Elsie in the street?

  No, Tessa would understand, and she’d volunteer to help, if I needed her. She managed the swing shift at Crawford Cereals, our dad’s factory, so our hours overlapped, and it would be easy enough to pull her aside and tell her there. If my parents got wind of it, however, there would be repercussions. They’d wanted me to come home after the college semester ended and, when I’d stayed, had barely let me continue my part-time job at the factory.

  They didn’t know about the girls, or that I was their only support. Now that school was out, I was thinking about finding a second job. The twenty hours at the factory weren’t cutting it, and I’d already used much of my savings account.

  Beside me, Payden’s cousin slowed. “Hey, where’d you go?”

  I refocused on him. “Sorry. Just thinking about something I have to do later.” Then before he could probe further, I said, “I don’t even know your name. But I can keep calling you Payden’s cousin, if you want.”

  “If I tell you, will you go out with me?”

  “If you don’t tell me, I won’t go out with you.”

  “That’s not exactly a yes.”

  “Nope.” I gave him a slow grin.

  “Okay, my name is Mario Perez.”

 

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