by Loretta Lost
“Lying to a girl and leading her on a little isn’t a crime,” Owen grumbles.
“Really, Owen? So you had nothing against what he did? Lying to a sweet, innocent girl who was just minding her own business in a pretty little forest…”
“You weren’t that sweet and innocent,” Owen objects.
“A good girl who had been through so many awful things, that her poor little heart simply couldn’t handle one more heartbreak…”
“Dammit, Helen. That’s not fair! That’s just dirty! You’re playing the rape card.”
I give him an evil smile, as if to point out that I have him checkmated.
“Fine!” Owen says dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air. “You win! But only because Liam seems really stressed out lately, and I think that getting him so pissed drunk that he loses consciousness is just what he needs tonight. A real bro would only ever hurt his bro if it was also helping his bro.”
“You tell yourself whatever you need so that you can sleep at night,” I say flippantly as I toss my hair over my shoulder and step out of the vehicle. “Just get the job done.”
“Have you been watching a lot of spy movies lately, Helen?” Owen asks me with a raised eyebrow.
“That information is classified,” I respond.
“I’m so confused,” Owen says.
“Just remember to use the vial before midnight, or it will self-destruct.”
“Riiighht,” Owen says, nodding enthusiastically and saluting. “I’m on it, boss. Besides, once you see how amazing Liam’s DNA is, and how perfectly it will match up with yours to make the most amazing babies on the planet, you’ll be begging him to saturate you with his swimmers. And a bro only hurts his bro if it will eventually lead to him getting laid a lot in the future. Vigorously.”
“Ewww, Owen!” I shut the door of his car and step away. He winks at me and rolls down the window.
“Hasta la vista, sista,” Owen says in a suave way as he peels out of the parking spot and blasts out of the underground.
Okay, that was pretty cool.
Feeling entertained by my spy adventure, and certain that it will lead to satisfactory results, I head over to the elevators. I have another associate to meet with in this building, but she is sophisticated and doesn’t do business in the underground parking garage.
No, she’s way too classy and white collar for this kind of location. She’s a femme fatale, a blonde bombshell, and she even killed a man once when he tried to mess with her.
Besides, if the boys are having an early bachelor party and getting drunk out of their minds with strippers, I might as well spend some quality time with my sister.
Maybe we’ll have tacos and tea.
Chapter Six
Dr. Liam Larson
I feel myself being roughly shaken, and I try to force my eyelids open.
“Good morning, sunshine,” says the older female doctor who’s standing over me. “Up late last night pleasing the fiancée?”
“No,” I mumble, dragging myself off the couch in the break room. “It’s insomnia or something.”
“Pre-wedding jitters?” she asks, munching on an energy bar. Dr. Jennifer Keating isn’t my favorite person in the world, but she’s a good doctor.
“Something like that,” I tell her, rubbing my eyes.
“So when’s the big day?” she asks, fishing into her pocket for a second energy bar to offer me. “And did my invitation get lost in the mail?”
“It’s going to be a very small wedding,” I explain to her as I take the energy bar with a grateful nod. “It’s also all the way in Michigan, so we didn’t want to inconvenience people to make the long drive or flight.”
“Ooh,” Jennifer says, biting off another chunk of her energy bar. “What’s in Michigan?”
“My fiancée’s family used to own a winery out there, and that’s where her parents got married. Their old house was converted to a bed and breakfast, so we booked it for a weekend getaway for the family. We would have invited more people, but the location is pretty isolated and there aren’t many other hotels nearby, so it would have gotten complicated.”
“Sounds like you rehearsed those excuses,” Jennifer says as she polishes off her snack. “But it also sounds like it’s going to be a lovely wedding.”
“I think so,” I tell her with a smile. I actually am looking forward to the event.
“Good job on marrying into money,” she says with a wink before turning and heading to the kitchen. “Might have to start calling you Cinderella, Dr. Larson.”
“Please don’t,” I say with a groan. When she is gone and I reach for my phone to check for messages, I realize that my shift was over five minutes ago. Nearly jumping up, I rush to grab my jacket and get out of here. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open as I head for the elevators, and when I file into the small space with a few other people, I find myself asleep on my feet in the time that it takes us to get to the ground floor. I don’t think anyone notices, and when the elevator doors slide open with a ping, so do my eyes.
Clearing my throat, I move forward with the hustle of other people rushing around in the hospital. I allow my feet to carry me out of the lobby in a daze, and when I step out onto the street, I find myself assaulted by blinding sunlight and squinting in pain. I know that it isn't that bad—I can only imagine how my patients with eye infections feel on a bright, sunny day like this. I should be thankful that the only thing wrong with me is extreme tiredness, and serial napping.
Maybe Helen is right. Maybe I should see a doctor.
I just see so many doctors on a daily basis that I am sick of seeing them. Sighing and tucking my hands in my pockets, I resign myself to walking down the street. I am struggling to keep my eyes open, even while walking, when I feel someone grab my shoulder.
I don't have time to think. The hand feels like it has the intent to do harm. It is strong, aggressive, and clearly meant to drag me toward the street. My body moves before I do, and I am thankful that my reflexes aren't too impaired by my exhaustion. My elbow darts backward first, connecting with my assailant's face. I hear the sound of my bone connecting with his nose, but I continue to grab his arm and twist my body.
Before I have time to realize what I'm doing, I have thrown my attacker to the ground and he is lying flat on his back and staring up at me in shock.
When I see his face, I am immediately filled with guilt.
“What the fuck, man!” I say in exasperation as I stare down at my friend's bloody nose. “Don't you know better than to sneak up on me and grab me from behind?”
Owen lies sprawled on the ground, wincing and clutching at his injured face. “Dude,” he says hoarsely. “Will you please just let me kidnap you for your bachelor party?”
Sighing, I stoop down to check out his nose. I reach under his arm to help him stand up, and blood starts dripping down over his lips and chin. He wipes it away with a sniffle.
“I'm really not in the mood for a party right now,” I tell him, “but I appreciate the invitation.”
“You can't refuse,” he tells me, pulling away. “If you won't come with me willingly, I will have to resort to physical force to take you.”
A smile causes my lips to crack. “Yeah, because using physical force on me worked out so well for you the last time.”
“I don't care! I might not know judo, but I can take you. I'm scrappy and fast,” Owen says, getting down into a sloppy boxing stance. “I'm kidnapping you today, Liam, and I'm not taking no for an answer!”
“Fine, fine,” I say, holding up my hands in defeat. I don't want to hurt Owen any more than I already have. “You can kidnap me. But isn't it a little early for the bachelor party? The wedding is still almost two weeks away.”
“That's why it's a surprise,” Owen says, holding his bleeding nose. “Because I'm the best at surprises! Owww. Did you have to hit me so hard, Liam?”
“You snuck up on me from behind, man! You’re lucky I’m tired; I could have broken y
our face.”
“It feels like you did break my face,” Owen says glumly.
“Maybe we should go back into the hospital and get you checked out,” I tell him gently. “We can have the party another time.”
Owen holds his nose proudly and stands up a little taller with defiance. “I might be in minor need of medical attention, but we’ll just have to ignore that, because today is the day that you must be kidnapped! So get ready to get drunk, and take shots, and let loose, and have the party of a lifetime! You’re getting married, and we are going to Atlantic City!”
Somehow, his excitement is infectious, and I feel myself starting to smile.
“So get in the car,” Owen orders, gesturing to his new Subaru Forrester. He pulls out a piece of cloth and holds it up sheepishly. “And maybe you could put on this blindfold and pretend like I actually overpowered you?”
“Sure thing, buddy,” I say, grabbing the blindfold. “When we tell the girls this story, we’ll say that you’re the one who knocked me to the ground. I’ll say you had me bound and gagged, and I was so scared for my life, I thought I was actually being kidnapped by the mafia.”
“I appreciate that,” Owen says as we walk to the car, “but they’ll never believe you. You know, this is your fault. If you were a normal guy with more guy friends, then I wouldn’t have to subdue you all on my own.
“One good friend is enough for me; especially when that friend is you, Owen. All other guys are just boring and bland in comparison.”
“Aw, shucks,” Owen says, and it looks like he’s getting emotional. “I don’t deserve all this sweet talk. You’re the bachelor, and I should be making you feel special today.”
“I already feel special,” I assure him. “No one has ever almost-kidnapped me before.”
“The first of many exciting events that will occur on this day!” Owen declares as he moves toward his vehicle.
I don’t know what he has planned, but I could use a drink and some laughter right now.
Chapter Seven
Helen Winters
“I mean, I kind of let him abduct me,” Carmen says as she sips on her tea. “I knew I needed to get close to him if I was ever going to take him down, legally or otherwise. I really just wanted to put him behind bars, but after what he did to my baby… and to Dad… and what he was trying to do to me…”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “It’s good to talk about it. I’m slowly getting past it. I’ve been reading a lot about kidnapping and abduction. I’ve been trying to face what happened instead of running away.”
“But you hardly ever leave this penthouse,” I point out. “I barely get to see you.”
Carmen smiles. “One step at a time, baby sister. I am just scared of meeting new people. It's no secret that I have poor judgment in general when it comes to people. I used to just see everything through rose-colored glasses, like a blithering idiot. I think I need to spend some quality time by myself and figure out why I've made some of the mistakes I've made before going out into the world again.”
“I can understand that,” I tell her with a nod as I sip my own tea.
“So, how is the writing coming along?” Carmen asks. “I really loved your last book, and I can't wait to read more.”
“I've just been kind of stuck lately,” I confess. Things have really changed with Carmen in the past few months. Since she was nearly killed, she has really changed. She has been more attentive, more caring, and more... adult. I always found her overbearing and so positive that it couldn't be real in the past, but now all of that charisma is gone. She's quiet and pensive, and she's not afraid to be honest about the fact that she's sad.
It's funny. I love the way she has grown and matured over such a short period of time, but I do miss the old Carmen. It is clear to see that this Carmen is just a scarred version of the optimistic girl I used to know. There is a certain darkness behind her eyes, like she is always seeing the shadows of the bad experiences she suffered. Losing her husband, losing her baby, and nearly losing Dad—I wish she hadn't had to experience all that.
I thought I was messed up after seeing Grayson hang himself. Messed up enough to drive my car off a cliff and temporarily forget the dreadful sight I had seen.
But I didn't even know what messed up meant. Having to kill a man in cold blood? That will mess you up. Having to look someone in the eyes when you pull the trigger and take their life? Feeling their dead body collapse on you, and knowing you were responsible for snuffing out their entire existence?
It's chilling to think that after all the horrors I've been through, there are still worse situations out there to experience. There are always worse feelings to be felt, and more dangers to be damaged by. It's enough to make anyone want to get holed up in a little penthouse condo, or a cabin in the woods, and have all their food delivered, so they can never go outside again.
People can be terrifying. After a truly traumatic experience, it doesn’t just feel safer to hide away from the rest of the world—it feels like the only option. But I suppose that Carmen is hiding away with much more maturity than I did; at least she still accepts visits from family and friends, and allows Owen to spend a lot of time here with her. I guess hiding away doesn’t have to feel so lonely, after all.
I wish I had known that. I wish I had known that I didn’t have to run away from my family. But maybe we are just very different people, and I needed that.
“I'm sorry,” Carmen says softly. “I'm supposed to be doing something fun with you, aren't I? We're supposed to be having an early bachelorette party.”
“No, no,” I tell her with a wave of my hand. “I am cool with just sitting and talking to you. We don't have to do anything crazy.”
“Well, at least let's talk about something fun,” Carmen says, putting her tea down and narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. After a moment, I see a familiar mischievous expression transform her features. “Are you sure you’re ready to forsake all men forever for Dr. Liam Larson? Is he really that special?”
I nod, although our recent problems do make me feel a tiny twinge of doubt. “Yes, he’s pretty special,” I respond.
“What about that guy you had that little sexual adventure with?”
My eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Are you confusing me with someone else?”
“No, I mean that artist who painted you in the nude. Weren’t you even a little attracted to him?”
“That wasn’t a sexual adventure, Carmen!” I say with a little laugh. “Grow up. David is just a friend.”
“A friend who stared at your naked body for hours,” Carmen says, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. “He’s coming to the wedding, right? So I’ll get to meet him? Is he hot, or just a weird and artsy hipster?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “He looks normal.”
“Normal?” Carmen asks, leaning forward. “What’s normal?”
“You know—he has blonde hair like yours, and these really sweet blue eyes. He looks very innocent and almost angelic, like he couldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Sounds like the opposite of Liam,” Carmen muses. “So don’t you wonder what you’re missing out on? What if tall, dark, and super serious, gloomy doctor isn’t your type?”
“What are you even talking about?” I ask her with a little frown. “I love Liam.”
“Yes, sure, sure. But you've never really tried to love anyone else. From the first time you opened your eyes, there he was, the first man you had ever seen. I can see why you'd get attached and not want to experience anything or anyone else.”
“Carmen, I was already falling in love with him before I could ever see him. We had already slept together before the eye surgery. It's not like I just fell in love with the first man I ever laid eyes on. The first man I ever laid eyes on just happened to be someone I was already growing to love, who was bending over backwards to help me be able to see.”
&nbs
p; “You're not confusing gratitude and trust with love and desire, are you?” she asks me. “Because you and Liam went through this whole journey together, of healing you. Do you really think the relationship will continue to last when you don't need his expertise anymore? When he can't get those ego boosts from being your knight in shining armor?”
“Liam doesn't need me to boost his ego,” I say in confusion. “He's a doctor, and he helps people every day.”
“And what if he ends up falling in love with one of those new patients? Do you really feel secure in the fact that he won't stray when a new damsel in distress with broken eyes comes around for him to save?”
“Yes,” I say simply.
“And do you feel secure in the fact that you won't feel tempted by all the sexy, angelic looking blonde men who want you to strip down butt naked so they can stare at your body for hours while they paint you?”
I take a deep breath as I consider the memory. It was a very exciting experience, but I didn't consider it sexual. “Carm, you don't need to drill me with these questions. I thought we just agreed that people are scary and that's why you're not going outside anymore. Surely you can understand that I have no desire to sample all the various men of the world like appetizers at a buffet.”
“So is that why you're marrying him?” she asks. “Because you don't want to try anything new? Because you want to feel safe? I guarantee you that kind of thinking will backfire, and someday you will be tempted to try something new, just for the thrill of it.”
“I won't,” I assure her. “Liam is... he's just everything I could possibly need or want. We're going through a little rough patch right now, but there's still no one I'd rather...”
“Rough patch?” Carmen asks with interest, like a hawk zeroing in on its prey. “You guys are almost newlyweds! You shouldn't be experiencing any rough patches at all. Do you want to talk about it?”
