Powerful: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Kathleen Kelly

  “Never again.”

  She squints at me, tilts her head, and just when I think Athena is about to say no, she nods. “Yes.”

  I stand and cusp her face. “Yes?”

  Athena nods and smiles. “Yes,” she replies firmly.

  “Yay,” says the sales lady clapping her hands. “So, a simple solitaire? Or a princess cut?”

  “Anything she wants.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Athena

  “Anything she wants.”

  He sounds so confident, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m the most important being on the earth, I feel precious.

  “Do you have an idea, my dear?” asks the saleslady.

  Looking into Kris’ eyes, I answer, “Show him the princess-cut ones.” Reaching up, I touch his face. “You know me, you pick.” Rubbing his jaw, Kris looks uncertain. “Doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll love it.”

  The saleslady smiles. “Mr. Livingston, why don’t you look around while I get your fiancée’s ring size?” She takes me by the arm and guides me away while Kris looks like a lost puppy. “Would you prefer a single diamond, or do you want other stones in the setting?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Clearing her throat and patting my arm, she says, “It’s best to give him some guidance. Would you like colored stones in the setting?”

  I shrug. “I’ve always like tanzanite. But honestly, anything he picks will be fine.”

  “Well, tanzanite gives me something to work with.”

  I watch Kris as she shows him around the store. Occasionally, he glances at me, and right now, he’s tilting his head from side to side as though he’s trying to decide. Finally, he nods, and the saleslady looks incredibly pleased with herself.

  Hopping foot to foot, I impatiently wait as the saleslady puts the ring into a box and one of those cute little blue bags—something every girl wants. Kris dangles the bag in front of me then holds it behind his back as he pulls me in close with his other arm.

  “Let’s go to city hall and get a license and get married tomorrow.”

  Barking out a laugh, both my hands flutter to my throat. “But what about our families?”

  “I want you to have my name. I want to tie you to me, Athena. I need you to know you’re the one for me.”

  My insides melt at his words, and I nod while tears spring from my eyes. Kris Livingston has always been the man for me, and now he finally realizes I’m the woman for him.

  ***

  I feel like Alice in Wonderland, and everything is topsy-turvy. I’m dressed in a simple white dress that ends just above my knees. I have on a pair of glittery gold six-inch heels that will probably kill me before the day is out, but I had to have them. Kris and I decided to get married at city hall, but we’ll have another ceremony later with our family and friends. This ceremony is just for us, a celebration of our love. Kris said he didn’t want me walking to city hall, so he’s hired a car. I’m waiting in the lobby for him.

  He’s a little late. I’m tapping my foot and pacing. He’s been gone for nearly two hours, and he’s not answering his phone. I’m nervous, but every time I look at my engagement ring, a thrill runs through me, and I know he wouldn’t leave me again. The princess-cut diamond with a pear-shaped tanzanite on either side, sparkles in the light. I find myself holding it in the sunlight and marveling at how beautiful it is.

  “Miss Goddess?”

  I turn to a member of the hotel staff. “Yes?”

  “Is everything all right? Can we do anything?”

  “I’m waiting on my boy… fiancé.” Smiling, I continue, “He’s running a little late.”

  “Would you like us to call him?”

  “No, I’m sure he’ll be here.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kris

  Gabby, my assistant, for whatever reason, organized for me to hire a car from the East Village. I’m standing in line when a guy comes up to me. He’s looking me up and down, nodding and smirking.

  “You’re that movie star, Kris something.”

  I nod. “Yep.” I hold out my hand. “Kris Livingston.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. Livingston.” He shakes my hand. “What brings you to New York? You working on a movie?”

  “No. Nothing like that.”

  “Like what then?”

  He’s not in my world, in fact, he didn’t even know my name. The guy is dressed in jeans, a dark red silk shirt, and a long leather coat. He looks more like a pimp.

  “I’m getting married.”

  His mouth drops open. “Married? To that Athena Goddess?”

  Shuffling back a step, I give him the once over. “How do you know, Athena?”

  Flaring his nostrils, he lifts his chin. “Saw you in the paper.”

  “But you didn’t remember my name?”

  Holding his hands out to his side, he shrugs. “I’m into chicks.”

  “Right. Well, you have a good day.”

  The guy spits on the sidewalk and laughs. “Yeah, you, too.” He points to the reception desk. “Drive safe and tell Athena I said hello and wish her all the best.”

  He’s weird. I turn my back on him and proceed to the desk. “Hello, I have a car on order.”

  “Certainly. What name?”

  It’s so refreshing to find someone who doesn’t know me. It’s another reason I love Athena so much, she doesn’t see the movie star, she sees me.

  “Livingston.”

  Candy runs her finger down a list and finds my name. “Ahh, yes, here you are. Do you have any identification, Mr. Livingston?”

  Pulling out my wallet, I hand over my driver’s license, and she fills out the forms.

  “It’s a good thing you preordered. Your car is in spot twenty-five. There’s an envelope with your name on it on the windshield. Thank you for choosing Speedy Car Hire and have an awesome day.”

  I tap the keys on the counter and smile. “Thank you.”

  I put my license away and saunter over to the car. Written in big letters on a manila envelope is Livingston. Subtle. With a shake of my head, I pull it out from under the wiper and get into the car. As I drive out of the lot, I see the guy in the red silk shirt. He’s wiping his hand and gives me a grin and a two-fingered wave. Some fans are just weird.

  Checking the time, I’m a little behind schedule, so I give the car some gas. Weaving through the traffic, I quickly make my way through the cars. Coming up, I need to make a right-hand turn, so I put my foot on the brake, and nothing happens. I pump my foot up and down on the pedal, but the car’s not slowing. Fear fills me as I grip the steering wheel, my training from Colton Donavan kicks in, I can make the bend. I move over to the far lane so I can take the curve. Turning the wheel, the car starts to slide. It’s then I see the woman running to cross the road. If she keeps going, I’m going to kill her. I jerk the wheel in the opposite direction for a moment. The car sort of skips, and then it flips over and over and over. Metal and road grind together, the airbags go off, I’m upside down, and it feels like the car is sliding forever. The noise is overwhelming. Suddenly, the car stops, jerking me sideways, my head connects with the window, and the world goes black.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Athena

  Three hours I’ve been sitting in this lobby, waiting for Kris and our new life to start. He’s left me again. Like a fool, I believed his broken promises. Pulling my cell out of my clutch, I check the messages. There’s nothing from him. Standing, I walk toward the elevator, time to change and go back to being the Athena who’s happiest on her own.

  “Ms. Goddess?” I turn, and Tyson, the hotel manager, is standing behind me.

  “Yes?”

  “Have you seen the news?”

  I shake my head. “No, I haven’t.”

  The man’s face pales, his gaze darts away from me, and he taps his lips repeatedly. “It’s all over the news. Kris Livingston has been in a car crash. It…” he pauses and grabs my shaking hand, “… it doesn�
��t look good.” My knees give way, and Tyson quickly moves to support me. “I’ve got you, Ms. Goddess.”

  Somehow, he gets me to a seat as I try to take in deep breaths of air. I slap my face repeatedly to gain some clarity. When the world stops spinning, I look at Tyson. “What hospital?”

  “The media is saying New York-Presbyterian ER.”

  On shaking legs, I stand. “Could you call me a cab or a car service?”

  Tyson signals to one of his workers who comes rushing over. “Find a car for Ms. Goddess, she needs to get to the NYP ER.”

  With his hand on my arm, Tyson guides me through the front doors to the waiting cab. As I climb in, I try to smile at him. I need to thank him, but he’s barking orders at the cabbie as he slams my door shut, then we are moving. I’m confused, scared and full of guilt. While I was running Kris down, he was maybe fighting for his life.

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate on my breathing. There’s nothing in my stomach, but I can taste bile at the back of my throat.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  If he dies, I’ll never forgive myself. I should have known something was wrong when he didn’t answer his cell. I should have known something was wrong when he was three hours late. Why did I immediately jump to the wrong conclusion?

  The cabbie comes to a halt, and I open my eyes. The world is too bright.

  “We’re here.”

  Going through my clutch, I pull out a fifty-dollar bill, thrust it at the driver, and get out of the cab. I stumble in these ridiculous heels but manage to stay upright. There’s a lot of media outside—film crews, press, paparazzi. I navigate through them all to get to the doors of the hospital. The emergency room is wall to wall with people. Pushing my way through the crowd, I get to the reception desk, and there’s a glass barrier between the staff and me. An older woman looking at a computer screen ignores me as I stand there staring at her.

  After a moment, I bend to talk into the slot in the barrier. “Excuse me?”

  She flicks her eyes up to me and then goes back to what she’s doing.

  Tapping on the glass, I repeat, “Excuse me?”

  Tired eyes meet mine. Her lips go into a hard, firm line. “Yes?”

  “Ma’am, my fiancé was in an accident, his name is Kris Livingston.”

  The woman’s face breaks into a smile, and she nods her head. “Yeah, and I’m married to George Clooney. Security!”

  A big burly man comes over and grabs my arm. “Another one. Take her out, we’ve got no time for crackpots tonight.”

  “Wait, I have proof.” Pulling my cell out of my clutch, I go to my text messages and show the man the picture of Kris and me at the wedding. “See.” And I hold up my engagement ring.

  “Honey, that’s a nice photo, but if you really were engaged to Kris Livingston, it would be all over the media. I’m sure he takes selfies with lots of pretty girls.”

  Pulling my arm out of his grasp, I say, “We only got engaged yesterday. Kris is twenty-seven, he was born in Boothbay Harbor, Maine. His dad’s name is Leonard. Kris’ mom died when he was—”

  “Lady, these are all things that you can find on the internet.”

  He grabs my arm again and begins to drag me from the building as we get outside, a camera flash goes off.

  “It’s Athena Goddess! She was with Kris Livingston yesterday,” yells a reporter.

  The security guard swears, gives me a hard look, and drags me back into the hospital and up to the reception counter. “This one’s the real deal.”

  The older lady looks at him, her lips turned down. “You sure?”

  “Yep, the vultures outside recognized her.”

  “Take her through.”

  Pulling me around as though I’m made of nothing, I’m dragged through the hospital.

  “Can’t you tell me how he is?” I ask.

  “Not for me to say. My job is to keep the crazies out and keep everyone calm.”

  We get in an elevator, and he takes me up to the ICU. When the doors open, he points at another reception desk.

  “They should be able to help you. God’s blessings, Ms. Goddess.”

  The doors close, and I walk toward the desk. A woman looks up at me and smiles.

  “Hello, I’m looking for Kris Livingston.”

  “Are you family?”

  “I’m his fiancée.”

  The woman leans back and gives me the once over.

  “Have you called his father?”

  The woman shakes her head. “The only person we’ve spoken to is his personal assistant.”

  Pulling out my cell, I begin to dial Mr. Livingston.

  “You can’t use that here.”

  With my finger poised over his number, I look at her. “I need to call his dad.”

  “Come with me.”

  Thinking I’m being taken to a room to call his dad, so I don’t interfere with their equipment, I follow her down a long hallway. Instead, she takes me into a room full of equipment. There’s a body attached to all of these machines. The breath in my lungs leaves my body in a gasp as I realize the body is Kris.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper as I rush to his side.

  There’s bruising to one side of his face, and his hair has been shaved off. His chest goes up and down, rhythmically with one of the machines. Holding his hand, I give the nurse tearful eyes.

  “What the hell happened to him?”

  “Car accident. I’ll get the doctor for you. Wait here.”

  I’m left alone in the room. The only noises are the sound of the machines and my labored breathing.

  A woman in a long white lab coat comes in and smiles at me. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth Young.”

  “I’m Athena Boswell.”

  “And you’re his fiancée?” I nod. “I was expecting Sophia Thorne.”

  “They broke up.” Holding Kris’ hand, I ask, “Is he going to be all right?”

  “Mr. Livingston suffered a head injury, so we’ve put him in an induced coma.”

  “He’s going to be all right, isn’t he?” I ask as the tears begin to fall.

  Dr. Young puts her hands in her lab pockets and purses her lips. “Only time will tell. At this point, it’s really up to him.”

  ***

  It’s been two weeks.

  Today they are bringing Kris out the coma. Mom, Dad, TB, Ashlea, and Mr. Livingston are here. I’ve never prayed, bargained, or wished for anything so much in my life as I have for Kris to wake up. We’re in the waiting room. I’m standing looking out the window but not really seeing what’s there. My arms are wrapped around myself as I send up another prayer for Kris.

  TB puts his arm around my shoulder. “You look like shit.”

  I know I do. There are dark circles under my eyes as I can’t sleep, and if I eat, it just makes me feel worse, but I don’t want TB worrying about me, so I smile at him.

  “Thank you so much. You’re the picture of health and happiness. Marriage agrees with you.”

  “He’s going to be okay.”

  My throat closes, and I nod.

  Please, God, let him be okay.

  TB moves away from me, and I glance at his profile. He too looks drawn and tired. Turning around, Dr. Elizabeth Young is standing in the waiting room, eyes on me. I look at her expectantly, and she drops her eyes to the floor. Her hand goes to the stethoscope at her neck, and she looks almost defeated. I take a step toward her, and her eyes meet mine.

  “He’s not waking up.”

  Mr. Livingston makes a sound like a wounded animal, but I don’t understand what she means. I take a step toward her.

  Dr. Young lifts her chin and says, “It’s not unusual, sometimes it can take up to a week. We need to give him time.”

  “What aren’t you telling us?”

  Dr. Young shakes her head. “You know everything I know. You can go in and see him now.”

  She leaves, and I look at the others. Mr. Livingston has his head cupped in his hands, Mom and Dad cling to
each other, and Ashlea has her arms wrapped around TB. None of us move, none of us speak. I nod my head and rock back and forth.

  “Mr. Livingston, let’s go see Kris.”

  “I can’t.” He draws in a ragged breath. “I don’t want my last memory of my son to be him lying in a hospital bed. I won’t.” He looks at me, his chin trembles, and his shoulders shake. “I won’t!”

  Mom immediately goes to him and wraps an arm across his shoulders. “Don’t you say that, Leonard. Our boy is going to be fine. Don’t you dare think that way.” Mom lets out a strangled sob as they cling to each other.

  Feeling like my feet are made of concrete, I walk into Kris’ room. Nothing has changed, the machines are all still here keeping him alive. Even though he can’t see me, I smile down at him and kiss his forehead.

  “Hey, lover, it’s time for you to wake up now. We all need you to wake up.”

  ***

  Three weeks.

  Mr. Livingston won’t come in and see Kris, he refuses to. He sits in the waiting room with drooped shoulders and stares at his hands. Mom is the only one who can get him to talk, and I’ve noticed he won’t look at me. I think he blames me.

  Gabby, Kris’ personal assistant, has been taking care of all of us. I catch her staring at me from time to time, and then she’ll look away.

  Does she blame me too?

  TB and Ashlea have gone back home. Both needed to get back to their jobs. I ring them every morning and night to let them know how Kris is doing. Occasionally, he’ll squeeze my hand or his fingers will move or his eyes twitch, but he’s not waking up. The doctor said it’s early days, but I’m beginning to lose hope.

  Why isn’t God answering my prayers?

  ***

  Four weeks.

  Andy and Dottie Westin are coming to visit Kris today. It’s the early hours of the morning, and I’m in the bathroom trying to get makeup to cover the dark circles under my eyes. Staring at myself in the mirror, I think I’ve done an okay job. I think I look better. The hotel staff at The Langham have been exceptionally good to us. They keep the press away, but as time wears on, there are less and less of them outside. Mr. Livingston refuses to speak to them, and I’ve become the face of the family. Not a job I particularly want. Gabby said I should only do what I feel is right, but I have to protect the family, and Mr. Livingston isn’t coping. He’s never liked big cities and for him, it’s very claustrophobic and impersonal. Every day, he’s a little worse as he waits for Kris to wake up.