Denial

by Jackie Kennedy

  Back of the Book

  Time spent in Somalia has Doctor Celeste Cameron accustomed to living and working in a war zone. Coming back home to America, Celeste is glad to see the end of the peril she’s been in—or so she thinks.

  Danger seems to follow Celeste and she finds it in the shape of Amy. What Celeste feels for Amy scares her more than anything she has faced in war zones.

  Amy has the same feelings, but is in denial and vows to marry Josh, Celeste’s twin brother, no matter what.

  When fate brings them together again, will they give in to their mutual attraction or will they once again deny what they feel.

  Denial

  © Jackie Kennedy 2013

  Affinity E-Book Press NZ LTD

  Canterbury, New Zealand

  First Edition

  All rights reserved

  No part of this e-Book may be reproduced in any form without the express permission of the author and publisher. Please note that piracy of copyrighted materials violate the author's rights and is Illegal.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Ruth Stanley

  Cover Design: Nancy Kaufman

  Acknowledgements

  I wrote Denial and put it on The Athenaeum at xenaficton.net, which is a great source for all types of original lesbian fiction and one my favourite sites. I posted it there, not thinking—given some of the brilliant writers who post there—that it would get more than a few hits. As it turned, Denial got much more than a few hits! So much so, that Affinity came knocking and here I am about to publish my first novel...who knew!

  I’d like to thank The Athenaeum site owners Bardeye and WebWarrior. Cheers for starting me on this journey.

  A special thanks to my editor Ruth for helping me make Denial what it is today.

  Dedication

  To Lorna

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Amy pulled nervously on the hem of her loose-fitting, paint-splattered sweatshirt and watched Josh hug his sister. A few inches shorter than his six foot two, Celeste’s dark hair moved around her shoulders as she hugged him tightly. Her striking hazel-green eyes blazed with happiness.

  Amy had waited a long time for this meeting. Hopping from one foot to the next, she noted how similar they were in coloring and complexion. Feeling a mess, she pulled her sleeves over her hands and wished for the zillionth time that she hadn’t hastily thrown the sweatshirt on this morning.

  Releasing Celeste, Josh introduced her.

  “Hi,” Amy said, holding out her hand.

  Although painting was her passion, Amy was in her final year at university, and was working on her first real architectural project at a local farmhouse. Yesterday, she had made the fatal mistake of telling the farmer that she hadn’t ridden since she was tiny. Being pushy, he had her saddled up within the hour telling her it was a docile mare and not to worry. And Amy didn’t until the mare left her flat on her arse halfway down the paddock.

  A visit to the ER convinced Amy, as she hobbled home, that nothing short of a frontal lobotomy would force her back in the saddle. It wasn’t until this morning, staring at a fat lip and a nose so swollen it could hide a pair of Manolo Blahniks, that she saw the full impact of the evil little mare’s antics.

  Celeste slowly took her hand.

  Embarrassed, Amy realized Celeste wouldn’t believe this badly dressed, frazzled, bruised creature standing before her was, in fact, her twin’s fiancée.

  Amy shook hands, and wished again that she hadn’t let Josh talk her into coming with him to the airport. Celeste was a doctor, he had told her as he cajoled her out the door, one who had treated all kinds of injuries and wouldn’t be fazed by a few bruises. Now would she?

  Amy tried giving the brunette her most charming smile, but the swelling made it lopsided. “Nice to meet you,” she said, feeling what little confidence she had left slip away.

  “What truck hit you?” Celeste asked, eyeing her.

  Jeez…nice to meet you too?

  Not sure if Celeste was really snarking or teasing, and feeling far too fragile anyway, Amy replied, “The truck was a ten-year-old mare named Ginger who went completely rodeo on me.”

  Celeste raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

  Not even a twitch of a smile, Amy thought, feeling the first tendrils of dislike.

  “I’ve really missed you, Celeste,” Josh said. He beamed a huge grin at his sister.

  Amy closed her eyes briefly and fought an unusual urge to whack him for sweet-talking her.

  “I’ve missed you too,” Celeste said then grinned back at him.

  Oh…all soft and cuddly now, are you? Cow!

  Hugging Celeste, Josh whispered, “I can’t believe it’s taken this long for us to get together.” He gripped her shoulders. “Every friggin’ time I try to catch up with you, you’re off on another adventure. Nigeria for vaccinations; Guatemala for the hurricanes. Where’s your next stop?”

  “Somalia.”

  He let her shoulders go. “For how long?”

  “It depends on how long they need me.”

  He frowned. “I worry about you.” He touched her cheek.

  Amy eyed the small scar that ran from the corner of Celeste’s right eye to the tip of her cheekbone. She hadn’t noticed it in the family photos. Amy chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly aware that all she really knew about the brunette was that she worked for Médecins sans Frontières, was based in Paris and had that French chic look nailed.

  “Josh, right now, I’m here,” Celeste said gently. “Well, some part of me is here.” She frowned. “It seems my luggage is on its way somewhere else.”

  An airline representative approached them. The woman was small, slight and looked very tired. “Ms. Cameron, it’s not great news, I’m afraid,” she said, looking at her watch. “Your luggage is scheduled to arrive in London in the next hour.”

  Celeste looked at her. “Seriously?”

  The woman’s cell phone rang. “Yes, and I’m so sorry about this,” she said. “Please excuse me, I won’
t be a moment.” She walked away to take the call.

  “This is unbelievable,” Celeste said. “Twice this has happened in the last two months!”

  Josh shrugged. “We’ll get it sorted.”

  “Josh, right now I don’t care what happens to my luggage.” Celeste looked at the official. “It’s taken me thirty-six hours to get here.” She eyed the exit. “I’m outta here.”

  Startled, Amy watched Celeste walk away. She blinked then looked at Josh.

  Josh ran a hand through his hair. “Can you take care of this?”

  “Eh?” Amy asked. “Take care of what?”

  "Could you give the woman my contact details?”

  Unable to believe Celeste had stomped off, Amy glared at Josh. “Whoa...you’re joking right!” She pointed in Celeste’s direction. “I know Celeste’s tired, but who does she think she is just walking away like that.” Amy shook her head. “And what kind of comment was that about what hit me?” she asked. “Didn’t you tell me she was in the caring profession?” Amy crossed her arms. “Who does that woman care for...corpses?”

  “Honey…please,” Josh said, rubbing her arms. “Look, Celeste gets really cranky when she’s jet-lagged,” he said as if the explanation excused his sister’s behavior. “I’ll take her to the car and meet you out front in a few minutes. Okay?”

  Before Amy had a chance to respond, he was gone.

  Mortified by how shabby and how much of a bruiser she appeared, a flush rose all the way up Amy’s cheeks and straight to her blonde hairline. She tried to smile as the airline official approached her.

  Chapter 2

  One year later

  “Merde,” Felice forced out. She tried to scream, but her lungs emptied. The sound of gunfire surrounded them. She reached blindly for Celeste. “Do not let me die… Not here…not in this!”

  It was raining hard. Celeste grasped Felice’s wet hand. “I won’t.”

  Eyes wide, the doctor searched Celeste’s face. “I…wanted to…go with you.” She struggled to get the words out. “Meet your family.”

  Drenched, Celeste choked back a sob. “You will.” She pushed wet hair tenderly from her colleague’s face. “I promise.”

  Felice screamed. She gripped Celeste’s hand and writhed in pain. Her neck corded as she struggled to draw breath.

  Freeing her hand from Felice’s grip, Celeste threw open her medikit and searched through it. “I think your lung’s collapsed.”

  “I…can…feel…it!” Her face ashen, Felice sucked in air. “I…am…suffocating.”

  Hands shaking, Celeste struggled to rip open the blood-soaked shirt. She paled when she saw the injury. It was a sucking chest wound. She fought back panic when Felice coughed up blood. Shaking, she wiped the rain from her eyes and focused. She examined the entry hole. There was no doubt, a lung had collapsed.

  Felice’s eyelids fluttered wildly. Gasping, her mouth opened fully dragging in air. Swallowing, she gagged on her own blood.

  Celeste dug through her medikit. There was no occlude dressing.

  “Fuck!”

  Celeste needed something at least three times the size of the wound to prevent the dressing from being sucked in. Her eyes fixed on the plastic wrapping tucked into the side of the medikit. She grabbed for it. Drawing in a shaky breath, she pulled tape from her medikit and tried to tape the plastic around the wound.

  “It hurts…like fuck!” Felice shouted, shaking violently.

  “Now you swear,” Celeste said. “And here I thought it was just me that liked to cuss.” She tried to smile. “I knew you had it in you.”

  Felice whispered, “How…long…do I have?”

  Celeste looked at her and saw the terror in those dark blue eyes. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Tell me!” Felice gasped.

  As doctors, they both knew the first hour was the golden. Survival depended on whether you could stabilize the patient during those precious sixty minutes.

  Felice groaned.

  Relief filled Celeste when she saw James with another field nurse running toward her. “Thank God, you’re here,” she yelled at him.

  Celeste looked at the carnage around her. The militia had been brutal today. Celeste had been in Somalia for almost a year. Felice had been here only a few months. Their team arrived in the compound a week ago to treat what should have been routine medical problems, but they had struggled with the number of gunshot wounds.

  “Tell me!”

  Needing to get Felice to a trauma center, and onto an operating table, Celeste said, “We’ve got time.”

  James dropped to his knees in a puddle beside them. “Jesus,” he said, staring at Felice.

  Celeste glanced over her shoulder to the other nurse who was running to the injured young boy near her. Since the team had arrived, the militia made it clear they had a shoot-to-kill policy should any internee try to leave. To her utter despair, they were enforcing the policy liberally.

  “What happened?” James asked as he stared at Felice.

  “We were waiting for the copter,” Celeste replied. She pointed to the boy the other nurse was working on. “He ran toward us with a solider chasing him.” She dug through her medikit. “The maniac was firing at him. The only reason the bastard stopped shooting was he realized his captain was with us.” Rage etched her face. “By that time Felice and the boy were down.” She looked upward. “Where’s the copter?”

  “It was shot at on its way here.” Rain flew off James head when he shook it. “It’s not coming.”

  “What?” Celeste looked at him in disbelief.

  “It couldn’t land,” he replied.

  “What are the options?”

  “We can’t stay. The soldiers are on a killing spree. It’s no longer just about the people trying to leave the compound.” He searched through the medikit and yelled over a burst of gunfire. ”We have to evacuate by road. The ambulances are ready.”

  Celeste shouted. “How many people are down?”

  “Too many.” He shook his head. “We can’t take them all.”

  Aware how poorly equipped with medical equipment the few old, battle-scarred ambulances were, Celeste fought back tears. She knew James meant they should only take the people who would survive the journey. The roadblocks the militia had set up between the compound and the hospital meant it would be difficult to get there.

  Hiding her fear, Celeste refocused on Felice, and quickly relayed her vital stats. “She has a punctured lung. It’s collapsed. I’ve occluded it. There’s a pressure dressing on her chest wound, but I need to get a line in.”

  Unrolling a pressure cuff, James began working on Felice as Celeste opened an IV line. “Her pupils are sluggish,” he said as he puffed up the cuff.

  Working, Celeste shook her head. “I know, but we’ve got time.”

  James pressed a stethoscope on the crook of Felice’s arm.

  Celeste looked down at the beautiful French woman. She was struggling to stay conscious. The blood loss and lack of oxygen would soon cause her organs to fail. “Felice,” she said, putting her hands on the doctor’s face. “Listen to me. Keep fighting. We’re going to make it. Just hang in there. Please, just…stay with us!”

  “She’s shocked already,” James said, letting the air hiss out of the cuff.

  Celeste ignored him. “Just hang in there.”

  Felice’s eyes lost focus and fluttered closed.

  “We’re going to get you out of this,” Celeste said desperately. She stroked Felice’s face. “I promise.”

  James grabbed Celeste’s arm. “She’s unconscious. We can’t stabilize her here!” He quickly stood when an ambulance careened to a stop near them. “She’s taken a K6 hit,” he yelled to the driver.

  Standing, Celeste’s hands balled into fists as the rain battered down. K6 was medical shorthand for someone being hit in a kill zone. Bile swamped her mouth. She gagged then spat, horrified that Felice had just been written off.

  Chapter 3
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  Maggie opened the front door and heard Josh muttering from behind the large potted plant he was struggling to hold. She pushed the door wide. “Not another one!”

  “Help me!” Josh said as he shuffled through the door.

  Maggie grabbed the base and they made their way down the hall and took it out to the backyard. They put the pot down.

  Maggie eyed the growing number of plants. “It’s beginning to look like the Everglades out here.”

  Josh stretched his back.

  “You should’ve never encouraged her to leave Scotland, Joshie,” she said. “Cold weather means fewer plants.”

  “Amy should have studied landscape gardening not architecture,” Josh said, looking around him.

  “Yes. She should have.” Maggie ruffled his hair. “Anyway, I thought you two were going to Irene’s barbeque?”

  “We are, but you know Amy, she wants to get things organized before the move.” He eyed Maggie then said teasingly, “She takes after her mom that way.”

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, let’s hope that’s the only thing she takes from her.”

  Josh laughed. “Yet another grudge you can notch up against her mom then?”

  “Too right,” Maggie replied and headed for the kitchen.

  “Hi,” Amy said, sliding the two small plant pots she was carrying onto the work surface. “Just in?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at her cousin.

  Maggie had a fiery mop of short red hair, and the most amazing green eyes. At five foot seven, Amy wasn’t small, but her cousin’s six-foot frame easily towered over her, particularly when she wore her biker boots.

  Maggie ignored her. She opened the fridge and rustled through it.

  “Are you?”

  Maggie dipped her head into the fridge and mumbled something.

  “What was that?” Amy asked, coming closer.