Finding Wicked

by Kathryn L. James

  “The morning we left for St. Thomas, I knew her donor was dying. The kid was on life support and they anticipated his death within days. I knew, Brooke. I knew and never said a word because your mother asked me not to.”

  My shoulders stiffened. Surely I hadn’t heard him correctly. I felt tingles spread throughout my body, and finally, my shoulders sagged.

  “She called and said she’d gotten word of the grim prognosis for the boy. He wasn’t expected to live more than twenty-four hours. He lived thirty-two. Rachel and I came to an agreement: I would make sure you went, and she would sign the deed to a small tract of land in the city. Did you know she owned the lot across the street from The Valencia? She’s been offered millions and always refused to sell. Because she wanted her daughter out of town in case she died, she threw it on the table for me.”

  Pain stabbed my heart…sliced it in half.

  It wasn’t so much because she’d wanted me out of town, but because she’d thrown him a golden bone and he had scooped it up.

  Not once had he tried to come clean.

  I’d lost my shit more times than I could recall, drowning in worry over her. I’d cried on his shoulder and he’d given me comfort, but he’d never, not once tried to make it right.

  Because he’d wanted the lot that was worth millions.

  I’d been a business deal.

  Opening my mouth to say something, I stalled. What could I say?

  I was angry at both my mother and Garrett.

  “Say something.”

  I blinked, and a lone tear slid down my cheek. “There’s nothing to say, nothing to make this better, nothing to make me forget. You had so many opportunities to tell me. You chose the business deal. It was always about the money.”

  “It started out as business—”

  “And it ended with business.” I reached into the compartment in front of me and pulled out my headphones. “I don’t have anything else to say, and there’s nothing I want to hear from you.”

  Placing the headphones over my ears, I made my selection and music began to play, but it didn’t soothe the pain of coming to the end of us, didn’t ease the shock of learning about my father. I felt Garrett’s eyes burn into me as if clinging to a morsel of hope for a second chance.

  I thought about Jennings, about that day in the conference room. It now made sense why he’d asked about my last name and stared at me for a second, as if going back in time with a memory.

  Acoustic tunes played in my ear, but I didn’t register a single note. Closing my eyes, I leaned into the hard wall of the plane and wished to be home, far away from Garrett. I needed the sanctuary of my own house to try to make sense of it all.

  He’d lied, and my mother…she may have had my best interest at heart, but I felt deluded and misled, and she’d disappointed me more than words could ever express.

  Garrett had used her unfortunate situation for gain, to acquire a piece of land I’d had no idea she even owned. He’d used me. The way he’d seared into the depths of my eyes when he looked at me…the way he’d made me come alive and be vulnerable with his touch…I’d never been more alive than when he worshipped my body, and it all meant nothing. It was all for a payout.

  My mind was foggy the remainder of the flight. Numb and empty, I realized I’d thought Jason had broken me, but he hadn’t.

  Garrett had truly broken me.

  Chapter 26

  “I’ll get you a cab.” He gave me a weak, uncertain smile.

  “Don’t bother.” I walked toward baggage claim, wishing he would either walk ahead of me or fall way behind.

  When we reached the carousel, he moved to the spot closest to the shoot where the bags come out. While we waited, he tapped on his phone some and looked over at me.

  “A cab is on the way to take you to the hospital.”

  I wanted to argue, but figured it was pointless, so I just shrugged.

  Finally, the bags started making their way around, and I spotted mine rolling toward me. Garrett scooped it up, and as soon as I grasped the handle, I began rolling it toward the exit while he waited for his to surface on the conveyor belt.

  “Brooke,” he called out.

  I kept walking through the crowd, the summer sun still shining bright as I headed down the corridor toward freedom.

  His strong hand clutched my upper arm, halting my steps.

  “Get your hands off me, Garrett!” I snarled.

  He dropped his hand as if I’d slapped him. The tone in my voice conveyed the seriousness of my demand. I took the opportunity to flee again, leaving him standing in the middle of a sea of people on the go.

  Outside, I started for the line of taxis then heard someone call my name.

  “Brooke!” The all-too-familiar voice called out again, this time closer.

  A warm breeze skimmed my skin as I slowly turned around, staring in disbelief at Jennings Lockwood—my father.

  As a little girl, I’d dreamed of this man so many times. I’d blown out so many candles on so many birthday cakes while wishing he would come into my life, wishing he’d wanted me before he died.

  And there he was.

  My stomach fluttered, nervous as hell as I watched him close the distance between us. When he stopped in front of me, it was as if he’d lost every ounce of courage, and the determination faded from his expression.

  We both stood staring while cars and people hustled about. My heart was in my throat and I gulped, trying to clear my airway. It was an awkward and yet euphoric moment.

  “Can I give you a lift?” he finally offered.

  I swallowed hard. “Sure.”

  He took the handle of my bag and rolled it to where he’d parked—in a no-parking zone. He opened the passenger door, and I slid inside the sleek black car. As he loaded my bag in the trunk, I saw Garrett standing on the sidewalk. He stared our way, and I stared back. I couldn’t help it; he was like a drug dangling in front of a hungry addict.

  Jennings approached him, and based on their expressions, the tone seemed less than cordial. I cracked my window enough to listen, but only heard Jennings’ last heated comments.

  “I’ve seen you fuck women over and saved your ass from more than you ever deserved, but this one? You knew she was my daughter. You knew it and still fucked her over. We’re done, Garrett. Find yourself a new attorney. I’ll send the termination of our contract to you in the morning.”

  He’d been a long-time family friend of the Mitchells, and he’d just cut his ties with Garrett because of me. He didn’t even know me.

  Jennings left him standing there, and my erratic pulse thrummed in my ears as I rolled the window up. He didn’t say anything, and neither did I.

  As we pulled away from the curb, I stared at Garrett, and I didn’t even realize hot tears had escaped my eyes until they trickled down my cheeks.

  Jennings opened up the compartment between us and handed me a linen handkerchief without saying a word. After I wiped the wet trails, I managed to croak out a thank you.

  He came to a stop at a red light, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t told him an address. “I need…to go to the hospital.”

  He let out a sigh. “She’s doing well.”

  “Have you…seen her?”

  “This morning.” He glanced toward me. “I didn’t know anything about you. I would have been there, Brooke.”

  “I know.”

  The light turned green and he eased the car forward at a slow speed. “I’m mad at her. I may have left to tour with the band, but I would have accepted my responsibilities.”

  “Are you sure about that? I mean, you were at the time in your music career where you were trying to get a label to pick you up—would you have given all that up at that time?”

  “Probably not, but we were coming home as often as we could, and it wasn’t long after Briggs overdosed that we fell apart. At that time in my life, I could see myself getting pissed off that she’d gotten pregnant, but I would have come to terms with it. I would
never have turned my back on my kid. That’s not who I am, Brooke. I’m made of better stuff than that.”

  “I’m mad at her too.” It was all I could think of to say, and it was the truth. I was angry.

  “As much as I’m furious with her, I’m also very thankful and appreciative. She did a remarkable job raising you.”

  “Until now, she’s been my rock.”

  “We’ll all get through this.” He reached over and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “One day at a time.”

  He pulled up under an awning and moved over to the valet parking lane. Surprised, I narrowed my eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll wait in the lobby for as long as you need then I’ll take you home.”

  As long as I need…what am I even going to say to her?

  My heart lurched in my throat.

  “You don’t have to wait. I don’t know how long I’ll be. There’s so much to say, but I know she’s weak…and I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’ll be sitting over by the piano.” He cocked his head toward a shiny black baby grand in the lobby. “Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat that wouldn’t go away. “Thank you.”

  “Twenty-second floor, room twenty-two eleven,” he called over his shoulder before plopping down in one of the tan chairs.

  My emotions were all over the map. One floor at a time, the elevator car carried me to the transplant floor. A nurse, Marianna, walked me down the hall to my mother’s door.

  “You’ll need to don a gown, mask, and gloves before entering the room to reduce the risk of infection. Use the sanitizing foam on the wall for your hands before entering and when exiting. She is still pale after the blood transfusions, but that’s expected, so don’t be alarmed. The doctors are very pleased with her progress, and she is being monitored closely for signs of rejection. We’re keeping her comfortable and well rested while her body heals.”

  I dressed in the appropriate precautionary attire before gathering enough courage to enter her room. She sat high up in the hospital bed, watching a rerun of CSI, and slowly turned her gaze toward me.

  A somber silence lingered.

  I stepped closer.

  The nurse had said she would be pale, but she was more like the color of the white linen covering her mattress.

  She looked extremely frail…weaker than weak.

  “I’m so glad you’re home safe and sound, Brookie.” Her tired voice creaked and weary lines creased across her forehead, but her eyes were filled with love and adoration as she took me in. She’d always looked at me as if I were the only thing in the world that mattered.

  “I’m glad you’re going to be okay, Mama.” I almost broke down, but I drew in a breath and swallowed the lump in my throat. “Where’s Aunt Jilly?”

  “She left earlier today. You know how Uncle Carl can be—the man can hardly butter his own toast.” She paused, a sadness filled her eyes. “We have a lot of talking to do.”

  “Not tonight. I just can’t talk about it tonight.” I reached for her hand and held on tight, as if it were going to be my last chance to do so.

  Yes, I was mad, and a whole lot of hurt.

  Yes, I had things to say, and I had questions I demanded answers to.

  But, she was far from out of the woods. Her body could still reject the heart, and the last thing I wanted was to have said things I could never take back, so I swallowed the words I wanted to spew.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I asked her.

  “Maybe later.”

  I poured some ice and water into the plastic cup on the table beside her bed. “You need hydration. Drink a little.”

  “Thank you, baby girl.” Her hand trembled and water sloshed about as she lifted the straw to her mouth.

  “Here, let me help you.” I held the side, supporting her grip.

  After a few tiny sips, not even enough to satisfy a bird, she set it on the faux wood-grain table.

  “I’m so sorry. There’s nothing I can ever do to make this up to you.”

  “No, there’s not.” My voice was soft and gentle. The reply was as honest and truthful as it could be. I didn’t want to cause her pain, but she needed to know how I felt. “We don’t need to talk about this now. Get better, and when you’re home, we’ll have all the time in the world.”

  “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She dropped her head, chin resting on her chest a few inches above the bright red scar.

  “I…love you too. Look at me, Mother,” I said firmly. I never addressed her so formally, and it took several long seconds before she looked at me. I reached for her hand and squeezed. “When you’re discharged, I’m going to come stay with you, just like we’ve planned all along. I’ll check with the nurse about the home health nurse visits and physical therapy.”

  “The doctor said this morning he wants me to go to a rehab hospital for a few weeks.”

  I nodded. “Whatever it takes to get you better and back on your feet.”

  “Do you want to talk about the stay on the island? How terrible was it trying to survive?”

  “That’s the last thing I want to talk about.” I shot her a warning look. “The island and everything that went on there is in my past, where it will stay. That’s a hard boundary.”

  “Brooke…”

  “If you want to know, I suggest you ask Garrett yourself since you seem to have formed a bond with him. Money talks, and I’m sure he’ll say or do anything you ask if you have another piece of land you can dangle in front of him.”

  Her paled skin blanched, looking even more ghostly. “It really wasn’t like that. I didn’t want you to be here if I didn’t make it. I’ve had it planned all along to do whatever was necessary to keep you far away. George never supported my decision, but he knew it was what I wanted, regardless of the cost. I wanted you to remember me strong and vivacious, not watch me take my last breath or see me after I’d done so. I wanted you to have good memories, ones you’d never forget. It was the worst day of my life watching my own mother slip away. It wasn’t pleasant. Some people just go to sleep, but others suffer. She suffered, and I didn’t want that for you.”

  My mother’s chest rose and fell, and she pushed the oxygen device farther into her nostrils, as if that would increase the airflow. A shrill alarm sounded on the monitor beside her bed, and it only took a second before a response team of medical staff filled the room.

  “Get an EKG stat, turn her oxygen up to five liters, and titrate back down to two once her level comes back up.”

  The small green heart flashed one fifty-two, and the blue one flashed eighty-eight.

  “What’s happening?” I asked as bile rose in my throat. I’d stressed her out, and I was worried she couldn’t handle it.

  “Her heart rate jumped up and her oxygen level dropped. Thankfully her numbers are improving. We’re going to give her some medication in her IV to help her rest.”

  “Mama, I’m right here. Just rest.”

  The nurse attached a syringe to the tubing in her arm and pushed the fluid in slowly. It didn’t take long for her eyelids to grow heavy and close.

  “Are you her family?”

  “I’m her daughter, Brooke. I’ve been out of the country and just arrived home today.”

  “I’m Doctor Roberts. She’s doing better every day. It’s not uncommon for heart transplant patients to become anxious, and it’s quite normal to give IV medication to help them rest and relax. While we are closely monitoring her, she has displayed no early signs of rejection.”

  “Thank you all so much for everything you’re doing.” A tear trickled down my cheek, and I dabbed at it with my fingertip.

  I stayed by her resting body for more than an hour before gathering the strength to leave her side. On the way to the front lobby, I expected Jennings to be long gone, but he was there.

  As soon as he saw me, he walked over at a brisk pace and did the unexpected. He wrapped his
arms around me, holding me against his chest, as if anticipating me letting the sobs free.

  He was a complete stranger, yet I buried my head in his chest and cried unrelentingly.

  Chapter 27

  Five days crawled by with me going through the same monotonous daily rituals of visiting my mother at the rehabilitation hospital and coming home to a dismally quiet dwelling. Everything thing in my life had been turned upside down.

  Garrett had called repeatedly, leaving messages each time, but I didn’t want to hear what he had to say, much less hear his sexy voice, so I deleted the voicemails before ever listening to the temptation.

  George was the only person I’d spoken to, but not in person, only on the phone. Greta and I had texted a few times, and she must have understood my half-truth about not having a lot of time to talk because I was taking care of my mom. I hated lying, but I didn’t want to socialize, much less face questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

  The night Jennings gave me a ride home from the hospital, we barely spoke. When he pulled along the curb in front of my house, he waited a few seconds before asking if I’d like to have dinner with him. I told him yes, but expressed that I needed a few days to myself. He simply nodded, but his last words before I closed the passenger door burrowed their way into my heart.

  “You might not ever call me Dad, or even see me as your dad, but I already look at you as my daughter, and I’ll always see you that way. We just have to get to know one another.”

  I’d cried walking along the sidewalk toward my house and every day after. When I visited my mom, I put on a stoic face, refusing to address her underhanded decisions to fuck with my life until she was comfortable at home, where I knew she’d be strong enough to handle it.

  Things were going to get a whole lot uglier before they had a chance to become pretty again.

  Snuggled underneath an old fleece blanket that had once belonged to my mother, I flipped through channels on the TV. Stopping on the travel channel when I heard the tagline “Top ten dreamiest beaches”, I let out a sarcastic laugh as the narrator described the crystal-clear exotic waters perfect for memorable experiences.