by Wild, Cassie
“Hell.” Closing my eyes, I processed everything he told me.
“Hey, you survived. You’re lucky, really. If that bullet had gone in any lower, it could have penetrated your lungs. That’s bad.”
I grunted. “I don’t feel very lucky.”
Sean opened his mouth to say something, but there was a knock at the door. He lapsed into silence as the door opened quietly. I squinted at the form standing in the doorway, limned by the light out in the hall. As she drew closer, I recognized Briar.
She wore a white lab coat with one breast pocket sagging with her hospital credentials and Briar Downing, M.D. embroidered on the other pocket. I could see a wrinkled blouse under her medical uniform speaking to the long hours my sister worked. Now, I knew where I was, the hospital where she was training as a resident.
She poked me in the leg. “I don’t ever want to have somebody tell me that one of my brothers is in my ER again, bleeding out from a gunshot wound.”
“Hey, I didn’t want to be there either.” I crooked a grin at her.
She moved closer and bent over, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You scared us.”
Us.
“Dad and Declan know?”
Sean nodded in affirmation. “They were all here earlier, but Briar convinced them they should get some sleep. They got rooms at the Ritz-Carlton and will hang around for a few days. We were planning on taking shifts until you woke up.”
“Well, I’m awake,” I said, skirting the truth. I closed my eyes, feeling the tug of sleep. “At least for a little while longer.”
“Rest,” Briar said, laying her hand on my forearm. “It’s the best thing for you.”
“What time is it?” I asked, looking around as best as I could without moving my body.
“Just after nine,” Sean replied. “You were in surgery for a little while, then moved to post-op. They moved you to this floor just a few hours ago. You’ve mostly been sleeping.”
There was another knock at the door, and I squinted as the nurse turned on the lights. I could have done without the too bright illumination, but I was quiet as I waited for my eyes to adjust.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s awake.” The nurse approached, smiling at me. She pushed a computer console ahead of her that also held her supplies. “Is it okay if I take your vitals and take a peek at your wound?”
I wanted to tell her no.
A quelling look from Briar made me sigh. “Sure.”
My brother and sister were quiet as the nurse tended to her task, commenting about my blood pressure and heart rate, assuring me that everything was fine.
I could have told her I didn’t feel fine but was there really a point?
Once she’d finished, she moved the cart out of the way, pushing it over by the wall. She returned to me and used the remote to lower the head of the bed. “I’ll need to take a look at your shoulder now,” she said, smiling a ridiculously cheerful smile. “Would you like your guests to leave?”
“No. They’re fine.” I heard the surliness in my tone, but I figured that after being shot, then having surgery, I was entitled to be in any damn mood I wanted.
Briar nudged Sean out of the way.
The nurse shot her a look, taking in the doctor’s coat and nametag. “This is your brother?” she asked Briar.
My sister nodded. “I’m doing my residency here.”
The nurse whistled. “I bet this threw a kink in your day, didn’t it?”
Briar grimaced. “You could say that.”
I lay there as they spoke over me, the nurse unsnapping the stupid hospital gown I wore so she could bare my shoulder.
She gave me a quizzical look. “Okay if your sister sees this?”
“I already said so, didn’t I?”
Briar slapped my right hand. “Be nice. She’s doing her job.”
“It’s fine,” I said through gritted teeth.
The nurse eased the gown down, and I squeezed my eyes closed as she peeled off the tape holding the bandage in place. She was gentle, but I still suspected I’d lost some skin to that sticky surface, and maybe some hair.
They were silent.
I cracked one eye open, focusing on Briar’s face. She was pale, but as if she sensed my attention, she pasted an overly wide smile on her face. “It’s looking good.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.” She shook her head. “It’s just…hell, Brooks. I can’t help but think what would have happened if the bullet had been just a little bit lower.”
“It didn’t happen,” I said softly, reaching out to take her hand.
She twined our fingers together and nodded.
“She’s right. It’s looking good,” the nurse said after a few more moments. “I’m going to change out the bandage, then I’ll get out of your hair. How is your pain level?”
“I hurt like a son of a bitch,” I replied, turning my head to look at her.
A ghost of a smile twitched her lips and humor glinted in her eyes. “I imagine you do. But I don’t think I can chart that. How about you tell me how the pain is on a level from one to ten, ten being the worst?”
“Six.” I closed my eyes again, exhaustion hammering at me. “Damn tired too.”
“That’s normal. Would you like anything for the pain?”
I wanted to say yes but shook my head. I couldn’t afford to be groggy, even if my brother stayed to watch my back.
As the nurse went about changing the bandage, I tried to collect my scattered, clouded thoughts.
I needed to try and figure out who could have pulled the trigger, and why.
But although the mind was willing, my body was more interested in sleeping than puzzling through what had happened earlier.
As the nurse left, I forced my heavy lids open and focused on Sean’s face. “You’re staying?”
He nodded. “Bet your ass. Dad has two men here too. Go on and sleep. Everything is fine.”
“What about Isabel? Daria?” I blinked hard, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, but it was getting harder and harder to stay awake.
“I’ve already got some of our people at our place, watching them. I told you that. Go on, man. It’s safe to sleep. I can handle this, trust me.”
Sleep pulled at me harder.
This time, I didn’t fight it.
Three
Daria
I couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock, but I’d gone to bed anyway, hoping that if I fell asleep, I could wake up and discover this whole thing had been nothing more than a horrible dream.
I knew that wasn’t going to happen, though.
I kept seeing Brooks’ face in my mind, over and over, the stunned way he stared at me before looking down at his chest, then slowly collapsing against me.
I could still feel the hot pulse of blood pumping from him, and I squeezed my eyes closed against the memory. A phone rang, and I had to fight the urge to bury myself into the blankets.
Was it the hospital?
Was it Sean?
Was Brooks in worse shape than they’d told us?
Because those fears were living so large in my mind, when Isabel knocked on the door, I flinched.
I couldn’t find the voice to answer, and she knocked again.
I finally cleared my throat and said, “Come in.”
My voice was a hoarse rasp, proof of how much crying I’d done that day.
Isabel slipped inside and came over to my bed, turning on the small lamp on the nightstand. She held her phone in her hand. “Sean just called. Brooks is awake. Or he was. It sounds like he’s already falling back to sleep, but he’s going to be fine.”
The punch of relief was almost painful, and I rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling as tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you.”
Isabel took my hand, but when she squeezed my fingers gently, I couldn’t force myself to respond. I just…lay there, drained and full of despair.
“Do you want to go
see him?” she asked softly. “I know it’s late, but they’ll let us in. Briar is a resident at the hospital where Brooks was taken, and she’ll make it happen if you want to visit.”
For a moment, the yearning to see him was so strong, I had to fight not to roll out of bed and head for the door.
But reality intervened, and I shook my head. “I can’t go see him.”
“Why not?” Isabel brushed my hair back from my face, and I could hear both the surprise and concern in her voice.
“Because this is my fault,” I said weakly. “It’s all my fault.”
“Oh, honey—” Isabel leaned in over me, pulling me close into her warmth.
I didn’t deserve it. Couldn’t accept it. I’d hurt too many people with my foolishness.
Looking away from her face, I slowly disentangled my hand from hers. I slid from the bed and paced over to the window. Immediately, I regretted leaving the warmth of my blankets. Although the room temperature was comfortable, I was freezing. I didn’t know if I’d ever feel warm again.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed around the knot in my throat.
Behind me, I could hear Isabel moving closer.
“How on earth can this possibly be your fault?” she asked.
I turned and met her gaze morosely. “It had to be Duardo or one of his men. They must have been aiming for me and missed, hitting Brooks. This is my fault.”
For a second, Isabel looked confused. But then her eyes cleared, and she shook her head slowly. “That’s just not possible, Daria. I told you…everything between you and them is square again. They are not after you.”
I couldn’t believe that.
I turned back to the window.
“Daria!”
“What?” I asked, the word coming out on an exhausted whisper.
“You don’t really think Duardo is behind this, do you?” she asked, an edge in her voice.
I didn’t answer.
She was quiet for a long moment before answering in a low, tight voice, “I know my brothers, Daria. If they say everything is cleared, then it’s cleared. They wouldn’t lie about that.”
I turned to look at her, my entire body growing tight. “You know them?” I said, disbelief in my voice. “Just how well do you know them, Iz? Did you have any idea they were capable of kidnapping a woman and forcing her to dance to pay off some stupid debt that they decided I owed to them?”
She looked away. “That’s over with, Daria. It’s behind us.”
I scoffed, the sound filled with bitterness. “It’s not behind me,” I said, jabbing a thumb at my chest. “If I even hear one of their names, I want to run away and hide.”
“They didn’t hurt you!” she shouted.
I wanted to shout back, but I stopped myself. It was time Isabel knew the truth.
“Marcos is the one who hit me,” I said flatly, enunciating each word.
Her eyes flew to my face, wide and stunned.
When she said nothing, I continued in the same flat voice, “He came into the room where I was sleeping. He had some idea in his head that I was there spying for the Downing family. He told me I was going to tell him the truth or I’d regret it. He hit me. He was going to rape me.”
“No.” Isabel spun away, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t believe that, Daria. I don’t. He…he must have just been trying to scare you.”
“Well, I was pretty damn scared when he knocked me down onto the bed and ripped my shirt half off,” I snapped.
She flinched.
Part of me hated myself. I hadn’t meant to ever tell her any of the harsher details about all that happened when Duardo held me. But I especially never wanted to do it like this, with anger and hurt between us.
Silence fell like a crashing wave, and I opened my mouth, an apology on my lips.
Isabel turned at that moment, her eyes hard despite the bright sheen of tears.
“My brothers can be hard to understand, Daria. But they wouldn’t…” She stopped and shook her head. “I love my brothers.”
“I know you do.” Swallowing the knot in my throat, I searched for some way to make this right. But I didn’t know how.
“Do you?” Isabel shoved a hand through her hair, breathing hard, as if she’d just run five miles at a sprint. “How can you know, Daria? You never had siblings. You barely even remember your own mother. You don’t know what it’s like to have family.”
I flinched at her words, cringing away. It was a blow, straight to my heart.
Stiffly, I said, “I thought I had you.”
She closed her eyes. “That’s not the same—”
“You’re right,” I said, cutting her off. “I want to be alone for a little while, Iz.”
She didn’t leave right away, but finally, I heard the door close behind her, and I slumped forward, bracing my hands on the windowsill. Staring out the window into the night-dark cityscape of New York, I tried to breathe.
You don’t know what it’s like to have family.
Isabel’s words were a blow, one that had sent me reeling. I knew she loved her family, but I thought she loved me too.
In the end, though, I wasn’t family. I had no doubt she cared about me. She wouldn’t have risked so much if she didn’t.
Blood is thicker than water.
I’d heard that saying before. Now, I truly understood what it meant.
Her family had her loyalty first. Maybe that was as it should be. Like she’d said, I had no idea what it was like to have family. Maybe if I had brothers or sisters, I’d understand how Isabel felt, why it was so hard for her to accept the truth about Duardo and Marcos.
Even thinking about Marcos made me shiver, and I reached up, gingerly touching the area on my face that had bruised when he hit me. The mark was mostly gone, just a few mottled yellow spots that I could easily cover with makeup.
If only I could conceal the memory as easily.
* * *
Almost an hour passed before I slid out of the bedroom.
The lights were low, but I could vaguely hear the low sound of a TV playing somewhere in the apartment.
Isabel liked to fall asleep watching a program.
I hoped she was in bed now.
I got all the way to the door before her quiet voice had me freezing in my steps.
“Taking off?” she asked.
I turned to face her, barely able to make out her features in the dim light. But I didn’t reach for the switch that would have illuminated the hall. It was better that she not see my face right now. I’d scrubbed it free of makeup and forced myself to stare at the lingering bruise as I came to a decision.
I understood that Isabel loved her brothers.
But deep down inside, I suspected one of them was behind the attack on Brooks…because of me.
I couldn’t live with myself if something else happened to Brooks, or even to Isabel. I knew she thought she could trust her family, and maybe she could, when it came to her parents. I’d seen the love and devotion Basilio felt for his youngest child myself.
But I couldn’t trust either of her brothers, and knowing that she refused to believe the awful things they were capable of left me feeling like I was suffocating.
Besides…I wasn’t family.
Those words still echoed in my mind. I’d always loved Isabel. She’d been like the sister I’d always wished for.
But she’d made it very clear that the love she felt for me wasn’t the same as the love she had for her real siblings.
“Well?” she asked, that edge coming back into her voice.
I’d forgotten she’d asked a question, but at that sharp prodding, I forced myself to speak. “I think it’s best if I leave for a few days, Iz. I need to…think.”
“Why can’t you do that here?” She took a step toward me and light from the window fell across her features, highlighting the vulnerability in her expression.
“I think you know why.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away.
“They didn’t do this,” she said again, voice shaking, although whether it was from anger or hurt, I couldn’t tell.
“I want to believe that,” I said softly. And I did.
But I’d also wanted to believe neither Marcos nor Duardo was capable of other things. Unfortunately, I’d learned how very wrong I was.
“Where are you going to go?” she asked, her voice small.
I shrugged and hitched my bag up onto my shoulder. For now, I just wanted to get out of there.
Maybe then, I’d be able to breathe.
Turning away from her, I reached for the door.
She said something quietly behind me, but I couldn’t make out the words. Setting my jaw, I opened the door and slid out into the hall, grasping the knob in my hand and pulling until I heard the faint click.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it from my pocket, checking the message.
Sure. Come on over. You okay?
It was from Gloria, another student at the school. After deciding that I needed to get out of the apartment, I’d texted Gloria and asked if I could crash on her couch for a night.
It wouldn’t work as a long-term arrangement, but at least I had a place to sleep.
Four
Brooks
Briar sat next to me on the bed, nodding as the nurse went through everything in preparation to discharge me.
The doctor had already been in and signed the discharge order. He wanted me to stay another day, minimum, but I told him that wasn’t going to happen. Finally, realizing he couldn’t change my mind, the surgeon advised me that I’d be leaving against medical advice. He recommended I stay with somebody and I could see the logic there, so I told him I would.
