by Yessi Smith
I pick him up and run, but I can’t save us. Men and boys like us can’t be saved.
“I’m not here to save you.” A light reaches toward us and when it morphs into delicate, long fingers and touches my cheek I lean into it, needing her. Shivers ripple down my spine as my heart focuses on her. “I just want to make it hurt less.”
The boy climbs out of my arms and into hers and she carries him away, leaving me alone the same way I once left her. My heart rips from my chest and crashes onto the floor, a million pieces of agony.
With too much clarity, the veils lift from my dreams and I repel against it, desperate to go back to Yanelys. Wanting her to lessen the hurt the way she always did. But my subconscious fights back until I’m lying on my back on a soft surface staring at a white ceiling.
I blink several times and take a quick survey of my surroundings as I try to orient myself, but I can’t make out where I am until I move my hands to sit up and find them bandaged with an IV sticking out. Disbelief washes over me.
It wasn’t a dream. At least not all of it.
I cough to test my lungs and immediately wince in pain.
“Finally awake.” A man says and stands from his chair on the other side of the room so he can come to my bedside.
My eyes narrow speculation, and I drop my gaze as shame washes over me when his pensive eyes meet mine.
After a strangled moment, I say his name, “Santiago.” My voice is slightly above a strained whisper so I cough again to clear.
“Stop coughing,” he instructs. “You’re only making it worse.”
“I was in a fire?” I ask and he nods. “And now?” Tension eases onto my shoulders, my heart slamming a thunderous beat in my chest.
Santiago barks out a loud laughter and lays a gentle hand on my left shoulder. His hand stays there, barely touching the fabric of my hospital gown that hides even more bandages.
“You’re in the hospital, Cam.” He laughs again, a coy smile playing on his lips. “You’re not dead, at least not yet. When Yan sees you, she may fix that for you.”
Panic at his words fill me, but the bastard winks at me and then goes back to laughing.
“Yan can’t see me. Santiago, please,” I plead with him, rubbing my bandaged hands over my face and even with the dressing on my hands I can feel even more bandages on my face.
The fire, the flames that licked and taunted me, were bad. I should feel pain. The blissful numbness will eventually subside and I’ll feel more than the pain that grips my chest whenever I think of Yanelys. I hit the button to my morphine drip, desperate to evade the unwanted agony.
It won’t be enough. It never is.
“That girl has worried about you every day since the day you disappeared. If she were to know I saw you and didn’t say anything.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do that to her.”
“She’s coming then?” I ask, my eyes dancing around the room as I try to come up with a plan to escape.
“Not yet. I left her a voicemail to call me, but she hasn’t called me back. But I told Carmen, so I imagine they’re both on their way.” Santiago grabs my wrist and squeezes hard enough to get my attention. “Stop trying to escape, Cam. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Ball buster,” I mutter under my breath, making Santiago laugh again.
Alive, his laughter radiates off the walls and crashes into me, the sadness in my soul growing with the sound.
“That would imply you have balls to bust, boy.” He laughs harder, until his laughter turns into the small wheezes I’ve missed since I left. “Pretty sure you lost those when you walked out on your family and the girl who’s loved you since you two were just kids. She hasn’t stopped, ya know.”
In spite of myself, I find myself grinning at Santiago. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad, and there was a time I didn’t just wish he was my dad, but in my head I secretly referred to him as my dad.
I take him in, fully assessing him for seven years’ worth of changes. The wrinkles on his face have deepened and the grey hairs have become more pronounced, but he’s still Santiago. Physically fit, mentally aware and with a smile spread across his face as if he was always only seconds away from cracking his favorite joke.
It’s not until I see black residue beneath his normally clean fingernails that I finally ask him what he’s doing here.
“I was one of the guys that was called to the building you were in when it caught fire.”
“And you went in?” I want to yell at him, but my voice is still too hoarse to carry any strength. “By the time I woke up, it was an inferno. You can’t go into fires like that, Santiago. You have a family. What would happen to Yan or Carmen if something happened to you?”
My chest heaves while the words bleed out my mouth in a frenzy of guilt and fear. My heart slams against my ribs and I press the button to release more morphine into my system but nothing happens. Desperate, I press it again. When nothing drips down, Santiago takes the button away from me and gives me two Tylenols from his jean pocket.
They won’t help.
I take them anyway.
“It’s my job, Cam,” he says, repeating the same words he once told me when I was a teenager warning him not to go into burning houses. I didn’t understand it back then, but after what I’ve experienced these past few years, I get it.
Santiago was born to make a difference. It doesn’t matter that he comes from a wealthy family or that he doesn’t have to work. It’s in Santiago’s blood, the core of who he is, a good man with strong morals and a desire to help.
“I get that, I do.” I lean my body forward and try to sit up, but use the bed’s remote to prompt me up when I see it. “But there was so much smoke. It would’ve been too dangerous. You swore you never went in buildings that were too dangerous.”
Santiago rubs his hands over his face, a gesture I picked up from him and use often, and sits on my bed, resting his hand on my left foot.
“I don’t.” He squeezes my foot and looks at me before he shakes his head at me. “The fire was so big. It was out of our control. None of us were gonna go in until it’d died down, but fuck, Cam, I heard my baby girl scream.” His lips turn into a scowl and he rubs his hands over his face once again. “I heard Yan screaming and I didn’t have a choice.”
My eyes widen at his declaration and fear far greater than anything I’ve ever felt before burns into my lungs until I can’t breathe.
“Yan?” I whisper.
“She’s fine,” he reassures me, squeezing my foot again. “She left me a voicemail, telling me good night, while I was in the building looking for her.”
“It wasn’t her then.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“It was her alright.” Creases spread at the corner of Santiago’s mouth and he laughs. Confused, I wait for him to continue. “Somehow she knew you were in there and she wanted to make sure you got out safe.”
Coming Summer 2016
Finally, my favorite part of the book where I get to say thanks to my amazing family and friends that stand by me and build me up in a society that is hell-bent on tearing us down.
My guys – Derrick, Dustin and Chase, you are my foundation, my greatest joy, the reason I believe in happily ever afters.
Mady Valle-G, who’s not only my best friend but also my LP, beta reader, and aspiring fitness enthusiast. Remember that moment I walked into your office and planted my ass on a chair so we could talk and become best friends? That was easily one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Now, please make sure you add onto your spreadsheet and push more people into buying LI.
Jilly Sava, my horny pie and one of the bestest friends a girl could ask for. You’re always there, whether it’s book related or personal. Beautiful by nature, you bring out the best of everyone you come across. I adore you and I appreciate you.
Lee Casey and Mary Johnson, Lee and Mary, Mary and Lee, miles and miles and miles of land and water separate us, but you two remain my closest friends and con
fidants. I can’t remember a time we didn’t chat and Lee didn’t send us drunk videos.
Neeny Boucher, Logan Keys, Rachel Van Dyken, Jennifer Tovar, Makenzie Smith and Stacy Kestwick your input and suggestions made all the difference. You didn’t have to help me, but you did, because that’s who you are. I appreciate you and your friendship more than I can describe.
Tashaune Hylton-Stella, you were one of the main driving forces behind me writing my first book and I can’t wait for the world to read your stories. From the day I met you (you know, after I realized you and Jaime weren’t mean), you have been one of the greatest blessings in my life.
Tammy/Thelma Norris, never has a giveaway gone so insanely well that the winner not only becomes a reader, but also a fantastic friend. You humble me with your enthusiasm and with who you are as a person.
Jennifer Van Wyk, I’m sorry and you’re welcome! Don’t forget to keep a look out for the creeper on aisle 12.
Kelly Marshall-White, Maria De La Cruz, Kelly Graham, Alison Maxwell, Carmen Reyes, Charlene Petryshyn, you kick ass! Seriously. I draw from your energy and am always so eager to send you my stories. You are my people. Keepers for life.
LJ Anderson at Mayhem Cover Creations, I say it every time, but this time – this time – you outdid yourself. In my wildest thoughts, I couldn’t picture something so perfect.
Jovana Shirley at Unforeseen Editing, you’re a miracle worker. Plain and simple. You spun your magic on LI, and the end result is something I’m forever grateful for. You pushed me to a new level and helped me realize my potential.
God, who every day wakes me up and fills my days with blessings. Through you anything is possible, which is why I continue to dig deep and keep moving forward.
My readers, the ones who have stuck with me from the beginning and the new ones. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for reaching out to me to tell me your thoughts (even if your thoughts have more to do with my level of suckiness). Thank you.
My Sadistic Sweethearts, you guys make my heart happy. Every single day. I love chatting with you all and getting to know you. Thank you for being awesome and putting up with me.
Side note: I blame post-pregnancy hormones for the sappiness of this acknowledgement section.
Yessi Smith lives in South Florida with her husband, seven-year-old son, and newborn baby. She is also owned by a neurotic border collie and “ferocious” rottweiler.
She has a bachelor’s degree in business management and a master’s in human resource management. She has held several jobs, from picking up dog poop to upper management positions. Now, she hopes to leave the business world behind, so she can live full-time in a world that does not exist until she places her fingers on a keyboard and brings it to fruition.
Previous work includes Life’s A Cappella and Love, Always and New Forever.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Excerpt from Pieces of Camden
Pieces of Camden Chapter One
Pieces of Camden Chapter Two
Pieces of Camden Chapter Three
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Connect with Me