Enlightened End (Lotus House Book 7)

by Audrey Carlan

  She looks at me, her gaze piercing. “It wasn’t over. All the symptoms came back a couple weeks later, and once again, they progressed. Eventually, blood was drawn, and I was found to be severely anemic. Then it was discovered I wasn’t producing healthy red and white blood cells. I was getting sicker. They gave me several rounds of blood transfusions, which only helped for a short time. Not long after, I was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia. The only permanent cure is a bone marrow transplant. Two weeks ago, I was admitted.”

  “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Greta.”

  “Me too.”

  “Amber says Grant has a huge chance of being a donor match because you’re siblings.”

  Greta closes her eyes and looks away.

  “Greta, is this true?”

  She nods. “Yeah. But like I said, I can’t use him. He deserves better. He deserves a real sister. Not one who only comes into his life because she wants something.”

  “You didn’t! You didn’t even tell us. I found out on my own. Don’t you think that’s divine intervention? A sign from the universe itself?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I do know I’m really tired, Luna, and I, uh, need to rest before my mother comes back. Thank you for coming. It was really lovely seeing you again. Send Grant my…um, well, just tell him I would have called him right back.”

  I rub my hand over hers. “Okay. Rest. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for stopping by.” She sighs and looks off into the distance where the window is, effectively shutting me out.

  I exit the room and see the flash of red hair down the hall. The woman may want to talk to me, but there is no way I’m talking to her without Grant. I’ve got enough to tell him about when I get home. Moving fast, I make it to the bank of elevators and press the button for the main level.

  Pulling out my phone, I press memory dial number one.

  “Lamb…” His breathy, sexy voice eases the ache pressing down on my heart after seeing Greta and hearing her story.

  “Grant, we need to talk. When can you meet me at home? I’m going to hit the grocery store and make dinner in for us tonight.”

  “Sounds good. I can be home in a couple hours.”

  “You can’t make it sooner?” I grind my teeth, hating myself that I can’t even wait for him for a couple hours, but this information is burning a hole right through my gut as it is.

  “Luna, is something wrong?” I can hear the alert, concerned tone, and it opens the hole bigger.

  “Yeah, honey, I’m afraid I have some uncomfortable news to share.” I swallow around the emotion clogging my voice.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just, meet me at home as soon as you can. I’ll be waiting. I love you.”

  “I love you too. I’m having Annette cancel my last meeting, and I’ll be home within the hour.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

  Grant’s voice shakes when he responds. “Lamb, you already said that. Fuck, you’re scaring me.”

  “Just come home safely to me.”

  “Always. Soon.”

  “Soon.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Those individuals led by the crown chakra are considered to be ruled by planet Jupiter and are known to have a mystical and out-of-this-world type of love.

  GRANT

  I break every speed limit as I race back to Berkeley and my woman. I can’t begin to guess what uncomfortable information she has to share, but it’s definitely bad news. She wouldn’t have bothered me at work or requested I come home had it not been important.

  After parking behind Sunflower, I use my key, type DARA into the security system, and take the back stairs up to Luna’s place two at a time.

  When I get there, the door is unlocked, soft music is playing in the background, and the smell of grilled peppers and onions wafts in the air.

  “Luna?” I call out, rushing to the bar counter of her small kitchenette. I stare, looking her up and down, from her bare feet and red-tipped toes, up her calves to the hem of her sleep shorts and camisole, over her perky handfuls, along her neck and arms to her face. There’s nothing I can physically see on her that would warrant any concern. “You okay?”

  She tips her head to one side and then the other. “Yeah. But…here.” She sets a bottle of Patron on top of the counter and pours two shots.

  Tequila.

  I’ve been with Luna two months now, and not once have I seen her drink hard liquor. This news must be bad if she’s bringing out the strong stuff.

  She turns down the burner under a pan of green, red, and yellow peppers and some onions she’d been cooking. A stack of corn tortillas are next to the stove, and cut-up steak seems to be ready to sear in a silver metal bowl. The entire room smells delicious, and my mouth waters. If I wasn’t so fucking scared out of my mind with whatever it is Luna needs to tell me, I’d be sneaking bites of her homemade meal.

  Luna walks around holding out a couple wedges of lime and some salt. She grabs my hand, brings it to her mouth, and licks the space between my thumb and forefinger. My dick stirs in appreciation at her blatant sexual gestures.

  “Lamb…” I warn through clenched teeth.

  “Just go with it,” she says while shaking some salt onto the wet spot.

  She does the same to her own hand and then hands me the shot and one for herself. “Namaste.”

  Together we hold one another’s gaze—for fear of the seven-year bad-sex rule—lick our hands, slam the drink, and bite the wedge of lime. The sour taste floods my tongue along with the burn of the alcohol.

  “Sit. If you’d like, have another.”

  “You need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  Luna nods, rises on tiptoes, kisses me, and then focuses her gaze on mine. “I will, but honey, when I’m giving bad news, I need to be able to do something. Today, I’m going to be making the man I love some fajitas. Do you like fajitas?”

  “Yeah.”

  She rubs her hands along my chest. “Okay. You sit there, and I’ll talk.”

  I’m not prepared for what she says.

  “I went to UC Davis Medical Center today to see your sister. Greta.”

  Instantly, a pang of irritation strikes my heart. “Luna…you shouldn’t have done that.”

  She drops the meat into the pan with the veggies and pours a little more olive oil in with it. Immediately it pops and sizzles. “Yes, I know. I just couldn’t see you upset anymore.”

  “And did you see her?”

  “Yes.” One word. Nothing more.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense. Why didn’t she return my calls?”

  Luna pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “You see, that’s the thing. She wanted to call you. And she would have Grant, I promise.”

  “I hear a but coming on.”

  Luna inhales, closes her eyes, and turns toward me. “She couldn’t call you back because she’s in the hospital. She’s been admitted. Grant, honey, your sister’s really sick.”

  I grip the arm of the stool so hard my knuckles turn white. “Okay. How sick?”

  Luna swallows, and her eyes tear up. “Very. She has aplastic anemia.”

  “Forgive me, I have no idea what the fuck that means. I went to business school, not medical school.”

  Luna stirs the meat and veggies, her eyes stuck on the stove. “It means her body is no longer creating red and white blood cells. She needs a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, apparently she got really sick after she had her second child…”

  “She has children?” I gasp, my heart pounding a rock beat in my chest.

  “Yeah, honey, she does. A four-year-old boy and a six-month-old girl. When she had her daughter, she got what she thought was the flu. The symptoms got worse from there. Now they’re at the point they need a donor.”

  I run my hands through my hair a few times,
allowing the strands to fall through my fingers. “Fuck. She’s sick.”

  “Yeah, but…um, she’s on a donor list. They’ve been waiting for two weeks. She’s been hospitalized this whole time. Apparently, when we saw her, that was the last night she was feeling well enough to really go out.”

  I focus on the Patron bottle, grab it, pour myself another shot, and toss it back sans the salt and lime. It scalds a trail down my throat, which suits my mood.

  “What are the odds of her getting a bone marrow donor match?”

  Luna purses her lips and turns to me once more. “Well, you see, that’s the thing. It’s not that easy. She’s been living off transfusions for the past few months. And the most likely donors are…” Tears fall down Luna’s cheeks as she looks at me.

  “The most likely donors are what? Tell me!” My voice rises right along with my ire.

  “Siblings.” She mutters this like it hurts for her to even say the word.

  A bullet to the chest would have been the only thing that could shock me more. “Are you telling me I could be a bone marrow match?”

  Luna nods, more tears falling down her cheeks.

  Well, this is too goddamned much! I practically fly out of my chair, the stool falling to the ground. “Fuck!” I tug at the roots of my hair and start pacing. “You mean to tell me my sister is fighting a life-threatening disease that could kill her, make her children motherless, and I could be the one to fucking save her?”

  I clutch at my chest as my heart burns like fire. Shivers rack my frame, and I’m on my knees. Tears pouring down my face as the sobs tear from my throat.

  Luna’s arms come around me from the side. “I’m sorry, Grant. I’m so, so sorry this is how you’re finding out.”

  Years of being alone swim over my battered mind.

  My mother hugging me the last time.

  Her red hair flying in the breeze as she leaves.

  Her rounded belly…

  I never recalled that last part in my memory; I was always so focused on the fact that she left. Walked right out of my life and never came back. Apparently she took my sister with her.

  “Fuck! I need to be tested. Immediately. I have to go there now!” I attempt to stand, but my knees fail, my body ravaged with heartache.

  Luna’s right there, her loving arms holding on to me. “Visiting hours are over. There’s nothing you can do tonight. Tomorrow we can go there. Together.”

  “I just found out I had a sister, and now she could be taken away?”

  “I know…” Luna’s voice is soft as she runs a hand up and down my back in soothing movements.

  “Why didn’t she come to me sooner?” My voice cracks, filled to the brim with sorrow.

  “When I asked her the same thing, she said she didn’t want you to feel used. Said you’d been used your whole life, and she never wanted to be one of those people.”

  Her answer pounds against my mind and heart. My long-lost sister was protecting me. Sacrificing…for me. The only other person who has ever done that in my lifetime is Luna. Definitely not my father.

  “I don’t even know what to say.”

  Luna nods, helps me to a stand, and wraps me in a hug. I hold her for a few long minutes, breathing in her comforting scent, reveling in her love.

  “Come. Sit at the bar. Eat. We need to talk some more. There’s a few things that didn’t add up during my conversation with Greta.”

  I blink tiredly and let her urge me into my seat at the bar. She goes back around, pours me another drink, which I toss back in a second flat, before she continues cooking her dinner. Luna lights the burners once more and finishes up the meal efficiently and with her normal Luna flare. Which means there’s all of the fixings, everything you could ever possibly want on a fajita and then some.

  A steaming, mouthwatering plate of meat, peppers, and sides is set on my plate with a tortilla holder between us.

  Luna comes around, sits her pert ass on the stool next to me, and grabs my hand. “Eat. You’re going to need it.”

  I watch her eat as though the food could disappear off her plate at any moment. Makes me wonder if she was poor or had little to eat and that’s why she’s so quick to eat her meals and loves food so much, but I know her mother and father were middle class and food on the table couldn’t have been a problem. Like anything with Luna, it’s a wonderful mystery. Something uniquely her. One of the many things I love about her.

  When I’ve finished my first full fajita, she turns toward me. “I met your mother today.”

  I can feel my eyes widen unnaturally in their sockets. “What?!” I roar.

  She jerks back and then swallows. “I, uh, met Gretchen Winters today. She was in Greta’s room when I arrived.”

  “You mean the woman is still here? As in, the San Francisco area?”

  Luna shrugs. “Grant, I’m not sure. She alluded to knowing who I was, even said, ‘You’re my boy’s girlfriend.’ As if she was meeting her son’s girlfriend like any other day of the week. I can’t say I wasn’t taken aback. It was weird.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “And there’s more.”

  “Jesus Christ. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. All hell breaks loose,” I growl, but I try to remain as playful as I can, even though my insides are knotting up with every new admission.

  Luna sips her water and wipes her mouth. “When Greta and I were talking, she made a comment that she and your mother used to go to your lacrosse games in college, and they both watched you walk the stage from high school and college. Cheering you from afar.”

  On that admission, I toss the fajita to my plate and push it away. There is no way I’m getting one more bite down my gullet now that it’s churning with straight-up acid.

  Luna clasps my hands. “You need to talk to your mom.”

  “You think?” I shake my head, and her expression falls into one of sadness. I squeeze her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated by the situation. One thing is piling on top of another. Two weeks ago, I found out I had a sister. Today you tell me she’s sick with a life-threatening illness I can possibly help cure. On top of that shit storm, you met my mother, whom I haven’t seen in thirty years.”

  She cups my cheek and leans forward so our foreheads are touching. “I know this is a lot to take in. Just remember, you’re not alone, Grant. Not anymore. It’s you and me now. I’m here to support you through every step. I’ve already called subs for my classes tomorrow. You can call Annette and have her clear your day. Heck, clear the next few days, if you can. Whatever it takes.”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow we’ll go down first thing in the morning.”

  “Visiting hours don’t start until ten a.m.”

  “Fuck! How am I supposed to wait that long?”

  Luna runs her fingers through my hair. “It will be okay.”

  “She has children. A boy and a girl?” My voice shakes at the thought that I have a niece and a nephew. Real blood relatives. Ones I hope I can get to know.

  “Yeah, honey. She didn’t say what her boy’s name is, but the baby is Gabriella.”

  “Gabriella. Pretty,” I murmur, committing the name of my one and only niece to memory.

  “Yes, it is,” Luna agrees.

  “I can’t eat any more. I’m sorry. My stomach is tied up in knots.”

  She lifts my plate and takes it into the kitchen to dispose of the half-eaten food. “Go take a load off. Watch something mindless on TV.”

  I nod, kick off my shoes, and remove my suit and kick it to the side. I don’t even care if it gets wrinkled. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now other than getting to my sister and figuring out how I can help. I flop onto the bed in only my boxer briefs and undershirt. My mind is spinning a mile a minute, but the same simple fact keeps popping up again and again.

  I can’t bear to lose my sister. I just found her.

  Luna is squeezing my hand as I practically drag her through the hallways of UC Davis Medical
Center.

  “Room two oh two,” she says, pointing in front of us.

  I had the evening to sit and stew over everything I found out. None of it good, aside from the knowledge that I might be able to help.

  As we reach the door, Luna tugs on my hand, stopping me in my tracks. “Grant, you need to calm down. I know you’re eager to see her, but the woman is still battling a very serious illness. Try to be calm, okay?”

  I close my eyes, clench my teeth, and nod curtly. She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t change the vortex of emotions hammering me at every angle.

  She taps on the door and then opens it. “Hi, Greta, it’s Luna, and I, um, I have Grant with me.”

  “Come in,” I hear from beyond the door.

  I follow Luna inside and find Brett sitting next to his wife, brushing her long brown hair. He stops and glances at us, his jaw firm, his emotions on his sleeve.

  Anger.

  Pride.

  Grief.

  I can only imagine what he’s feeling, knowing his wife’s condition and not being able to help. On top of that, I was a dick to them at the restaurant weeks ago, which I’m sure is not helping the current waves of distrust and agitation I’m sensing in the room.

  Luna walks over to Greta and grabs her hand. “How are you doing today?” she asks sweetly, her voice like a song even when she’s asking something as mundane as finding out how someone is.

  Greta offers a small smile. “I’ve had better days,” she answers.

  I grind my back molars in an attempt not to burst with the war of questions and thoughts I have inside me.