Half Empty

by Catherine Bybee

  “I got here as fast as I could. Is she okay? What happened?”

  Lori glanced around before she encouraged the man to walk beside her as they left the waiting room.

  Wade watched them disappear before taking his seat next to Shannon.

  “Who is that?” Wade asked.

  “That’s Bernie . . . Avery’s ex-husband.”

  Wade choked on the coffee he’d just placed in his mouth. Full-on spat the coffee onto his shirt like he didn’t understand the concept of swallowing hot liquid.

  “W-what?”

  Shannon pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to him. “Yeah, not shocking it didn’t work out.”

  Bernie looked more like an older uncle, a father . . . maybe a brother from a different marriage. But Avery’s husband? Oh, hell no.

  The man was talking in hushed whispers to Lori across the room, but his eyes kept gravitating toward the door to the ICU. The man was clearly concerned. “Let me see what I can do,” Wade heard Lori say.

  Lori offered a polite smile when she picked up the phone to the nursing station inside the locked unit. Within a few minutes, Avery’s parents, a pretentious couple if Wade ever met one, stepped out.

  “We knew you’d come,” Avery’s mother said as she grasped Bernie’s hands.

  “I’d like to have some time alone with her,” Bernie told them.

  “Of course, of course.” They stepped aside.

  Wade expected Trina to funnel out once Bernie walked in, but she must have stayed behind.

  Wade stood and offered Mrs. Grant his seat.

  She took it. “He’s such a good man. I don’t know why they ever split up.”

  Lori offered a polite smile.

  Shannon’s smile was just as plastic.

  All Wade could think was . . . how on God’s green earth did they ever get together in the first place?

  Reed walked back into the waiting room after taking a phone call and returned with a man approximately the size of a small house. He smiled, scanned the room, and then narrowed his eyes on Wade.

  Because House Man was with Reed, Wade offered a nod as if to say, Yeah, I’m him.

  Then the strangest thing happened. The man nodded and was like, Cool.

  That was it.

  For what felt like the hundredth time since this whole ordeal had started, Wade enjoyed the fact that the people in Trina’s inner circle were not influenced by fame. Outside of acknowledging who he was, they didn’t do the starstruck thing that so many others did.

  He liked that.

  Reed waved Wade and Jeb over to an empty corner of the waiting room.

  Reed pointed to his friend. “This is Rick. Rick, Wade. Jeb is his bodyguard,” he said.

  “And friend,” Wade made clear.

  “Of course.” Reed leaned in, lowered his voice. “Just making sure he knows who is carrying.”

  Which meant Rick was.

  Wow, again with the armed response.

  “Let’s take this outside in the hall.”

  Wade followed Reed’s gaze to find the same family that had been eyeing him all night, snickering as they watched them.

  “Good idea.”

  They were two steps into the hall when Reed launched into his monologue. “So here’s the plan. Someone is on Avery at all times. I’m arranging it with the hospital that one of us is in the room with her regardless of their stupid rules. Someone is with Trina like a shadow. Easy with you here”—he pointed to Wade—“but one of us three will be a breath behind you. We have reinforcements coming in to allow for rest. With the exception of you, Wade. We expect you to be on Trina like white on rice, and if that’s a problem, you need to tell us now.”

  White on Trina’s rice had a very nice ring to it. “Not a problem,” he started with. “Mind telling me why this is necessary?”

  Reed looked at his friend, his expression shifting from I’m on a mission to This part sucks.

  “Forensics didn’t find any prints in the office.”

  Wade felt a little lost. “Okay?”

  “As in any. Not one. Not Avery’s, not Trina’s, not Fedor’s . . . not the maid. None!”

  “Oh, hell,” Jeb said.

  “Exactly,” Rick said to Jeb.

  “I sing songs for a living, mind helping me catch up here?” Because it seemed the three of them were talking in a different language.

  “Have you ever heard of the term ‘a cleaner,’ Wade? That would be someone hired to come in and clean up a murder scene and not leave a trace. They miss nothing. Nothing! So when something looks like a burglary and ends up without a single print . . . that means there’s something big at play,” Rick explained.

  “Whoever ransacked the office at Trina’s house wasn’t there to take anything, they were there to clean up,” Reed added.

  “Clean up what?”

  “Only one person died in that house,” Rick said. “And it’s been closed up ever since. Now two women come in, they start shuffling through things, next thing you know one of them is in the hospital and the house is broken into. There is no way of knowing if whoever did this found what they wanted and are gone, or if they’ll be back. Until we know who hired the cleaners, we have to assume the two women shaking up the dust need protection.”

  “You believe someone murdered Trina’s late husband,” Jeb concluded.

  That was the moment that Wade caught up. “Trina said it was suicide.”

  “Which is how it looked,” Reed said.

  “Does Trina know this?”

  Reed and Rick exchanged glances. “Not yet.”

  Trina had never seen Bernie in person. He was even shorter in real life.

  Yet the lack of height was made up for by the dread-filled concern in his eyes. “Oh, dear lord, no. Who did this to you?” he asked the second he entered the room.

  Avery had opened her eyes for a short time while her parents were there and then closed them after a few seconds. “What are you doing here, Bernie?” she asked slowly.

  “Oh, thank God you’re talking. Oh, darling.”

  Bernie sat on the edge of the seat Avery’s mother had just vacated; his hand moved to grasp Avery’s and ended up resting on top of the exposed skin of her upper arm.

  “Who did this to you? Tell me and I’ll put a hit out on them.”

  For the first time since Trina had walked into the hospital, a smile started to peek out from under the bandages covering Avery’s face. “You won’t kill spiders.” A slight chuckle came from her and resulted in a cough that brought a grimace.

  Trina brought a cup of water with a straw to Avery’s lips.

  Bernie’s worried eyes met Trina’s.

  Avery finally opened both eyes and tried to smile a second time. “Who told you I was here?”

  “Adeline called me.”

  “My mother should have left you alone.”

  “For once I’m grateful for her meddling. Oh, Avery . . .” He said her name with a sigh. “I know you’re not mine anymore, but I do still love you.”

  Bernie glanced at Trina before focusing on Avery.

  “Bernie . . . Trina knows. You don’t have to pretend.”

  Trina felt her heart skip a beat. “The nurse just gave her more pain medication. I think it’s working,” Trina told Bernie in hopes that he wouldn’t question what she knew and didn’t know.

  “Oh, please, Trina.”

  “No matter,” Bernie said. “I care, and I’m here if you need anything.”

  Avery’s eyes started to close and stay that way. “I’m okay.”

  Bernie huffed in disbelief. Before he could say another word, Avery’s mouth slacked open and her breathing evened out as she fell fast asleep.

  Trina nodded toward the door and encouraged Bernie to follow. He did, but not before he kissed Avery’s exposed cheek.

  Once they walked out of the room, Trina reached her hand out to shake his. “I’m Trina.”

  “Bernie, Avery’s ex-husband.”

  “
It was sweet of you to stop by.”

  He shifted from foot to foot. “I’m not sure what she told you about me, but—”

  Trina interrupted him. “That you were both hasty in getting married and realized a long-lasting romantic love wasn’t going to work.”

  Bernie looked relieved. “I would imagine that bump to her head has her saying strange things,” he offered.

  “Nothing I haven’t expected.”

  Bernie paused and nodded. “It’s probably best not to leave her alone with her parents until she’s less . . . medicated.”

  “I agree,” Trina said. “Lori and I are taking turns.”

  With those final words, Bernie’s understanding seemed to come into focus. Alliance had a strict code of silence, but their unstated conversation became perfectly clear to both of them.

  He reached for Trina’s hands and squeezed them. “I do care deeply for her. Please keep me informed.”

  “I will.”

  Trina watched Bernie’s back as he walked out of the ICU. When the door opened, she saw one of the detectives from the previous night standing in the doorway.

  The hair on her neck stood up. There wasn’t any way of knowing what Avery would say to the police in her drugged state. If word got out about Avery’s fake marriage to Bernie, and someone followed that bouncing ball, it stood to reason that the police would question her about Fedor.

  She turned to Doug, the nurse who had been taking care of Avery since the early morning hours. “Excuse me.”

  Doug looked up from the chart he was working on.

  “I’m going to step out for a while.” She glanced behind her at the approaching detectives. “She’s really tired and could take a break from visitors,” she told the nurse.

  Doug stood. “I’ll check on her.”

  Trina headed Detective Gray off. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

  “Mrs. Petrov.”

  “We’d like a few words with Ms. Grant.”

  “She’s exhausted.”

  Armstrong looked over his shoulder toward the closed door to the ICU. “It appears she’s had plenty of visitors today.”

  Maybe it was luck, or perhaps Doug caught on to Trina’s need, but the nurse left Avery’s room and stopped the men from entering.

  “Trina?” Doug approached. “She’s finally sleeping. I’m going to ask that everyone leave her alone for a few hours.”

  Gray removed a badge from his back pocket. “I’m Detective Gray, this is Detective Armstrong, we only have a few questions for Ms. Grant.”

  “Those will have to wait.”

  “We’ll be back later, then,” Armstrong said.

  “I would suggest you call before returning. The neurologist has ordered a few tests . . .”

  “We’ll wait.”

  Doug stepped closer, lowered his voice. “How about tomorrow? Her family and friends visiting to tell her she’s loved is helpful. Questions about what put her here are traumatic at this stage.”

  The detectives exchanged glances. “We’ll be back.”

  Trina sighed her relief when they left. “Thank you, Doug.”

  “Nothing I said wasn’t true.”

  “I’ll step out for a while.”

  He stopped her. “I heard Wade Thomas was with all of you.”

  “He is.”

  Doug tilted his head. “I’m a huge fan.”

  “I’ll be sure and drag him back the next time Avery wakes up to say hello.”

  “Really? That would be epic.”

  If Wade’s name could keep the police away until Avery was alert, Trina would use it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “White on rice,” Wade said as if he was in the middle of a conversation instead of walking Trina outside the hospital doors and onto the wet streets of Manhattan.

  “Excuse me?”

  He draped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her close to his side. “I’ve never played bodyguard before. I think I’m going to like it.” He’d heard Reed bring Trina up to date on the lack of fingerprints found in the office. She seemed less concerned with that than everyone else involved.

  “What does role-playing a bodyguard have to do with rice?”

  He chuckled and leaned close to her ear. “Your bulky friends said I needed to be white on rice with you. I like potatoes more than rice, but I’ll give it a shot,” he teased.

  They walked toward the hotel.

  Trina stiffened and slowed her pace. “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into all this. Please don’t feel obligated to—”

  “Oh, no . . . don’t start that. I don’t feel obligated, nor do I have some kind of hero complex that you’re scratching. I might not prefer how we are spending time together, but I thoroughly enjoy the company and wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

  “You have a love for hospital waiting rooms?”

  A crowd of people huddled around them as they waited for traffic to clear to cross the street.

  “I have a deep regard for right over wrong and being a friend in more than a Christmas card fashion.”

  They joined the masses and jaywalked to the other side of the street.

  “If you need to get home, I completely understand.”

  He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a dam for the people rushing by. Wade pulled her to the side of a building and stood in front of her.

  “Okay, darlin’. I’m going to say this once.” He placed both hands on the sides of her face and stared her in the eye.

  She opened her mouth, and he brought one finger over her lips to stop her. “Nobody needs me at home more than you need me here. I’m taking the charge of white on rice and I don’t plan on leaving until the police find out what’s going on. If they don’t, then I’ll just have to follow you back to Texas, where it appears you belong. So no more guilt about keeping me here or dragging me into anything. Got it?”

  Trina tried to smile. “You’re pretty demanding,” she said quietly.

  “Oh, darlin’, I’m one hundred percent demanding, which is probably why I’m still single. I’m also determined to get that half-empty look out of your eyes and replace it with sparkling lights.”

  There her smile was. Seeing it warmed his heart.

  “Now we’re talkin’.”

  “Are you always this charming?”

  He shook his head. “No. I saved it for you.”

  Trina snickered. “That’s a line,” she called him out.

  “Guilty. But this time I mean it.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  He brushed his thumb over her jaw and gave in to the desire to kiss her.

  The more often he brushed his lips against hers, the more he wanted to make her his next addiction. Even the busy streets of New York City couldn’t keep his heartbeat out of his head as he tasted her.

  When she opened her lips, he ended their public display and promised to deepen that kiss as soon as they were alone.

  “Hey, Wade!”

  The sound of someone calling him from several feet away, followed by a flash of lights, ruined the disco ball spinning in his head.

  Sure enough, the paparazzi had found him. Instead of causing a scene, Wade pulled Trina alongside him and started toward the hotel.

  “Who’s your friend?” The flash of a camera followed the stranger’s question.

  People started turning to watch.

  The man backed into people as he moved in front of them to get the image he wanted.

  New Yorkers weren’t all that friendly when being plowed into by a distracted pedestrian.

  Wade tried moving around the man. “We’re in a hurry. If you don’t mind.”

  “Just one smile,” he asked, the camera up to his eye.

  Wade didn’t oblige. Instead he pushed around the man, careful not to touch him, and doubled his pace to get away.

  Trina kept up as if she’d done the paparazzi dance before.

  When they approached the hotel, the man at the door sensed their plight, opened the
door, and then cut off Mr. Camera Happy.

  Wade took a deep breath when the elevator doors closed.

  Trina twisted to stand in front of him, placed her hands on his chest, and pushed him against the wall. Without words, she pressed her body against his and demanded his lips.

  It took him two seconds to catch on before his eyes closed and his body gave in to hers. Her lips were open, hungry, and not like any kiss he’d had from her before. He hardened in an instant.

  The elevator dinged loud enough for Wade to put a tiny distance between the two of them when the doors opened.

  A couple with a teenage son stepped onto the elevator, eyeing them. It had to be obvious what they’d interrupted. It was to Wade, in any event. Trina diverted her gaze from the other couple, her chest heaving as she sucked in silent breaths.

  The kid watched them as the elevator made its way up. The parents looked away in silence.

  Trina licked her lips.

  Wade felt the need to wipe his.

  The door opened on the floor of the hotel’s view restaurant and let the family out.

  It was Wade’s turn to twist Trina into the wall of the elevator.

  Her hands were in his hair, her body molded to his, their lips fused together.

  This time, when the elevator announced an arrival to a floor, Wade glanced up to see the penthouse suites level. Instead of breaking her off, he lifted her up and encouraged her legs to wrap around his waist.

  He felt her purse slip from her shoulder and catch on her arm as he walked her to the door of their room. Trina’s teeth caught on his neck like a vampire searching for fuel. He pressed her against the door, probably too hard, but she didn’t stop.

  Wade found his wallet and slid the electronic key from behind his credit card. It took two swipes for the door to unlock. Once behind the private door, he dropped his wallet, she dropped her purse, and he filled his palms with her ass as he carried her to the bedroom.

  His mind focused briefly, wanting to ask if she was sure of this moment, but her teeth grazed against the lobe of his ear as she moaned.

  The bed caught his knees. Wade controlled his fall on top of her as the bed cradled her back. The stability offered Trina the ability to push her hips into his. God help him, he saw bright sparks of pixie dust at the thought of sliding into her. The warmth inside his belly reminded him of his teenage years and the inability to control his body.