“I can tell her you don’t want to see her,” Marcy said. “But I think it’ll be good if you talk to her.”
I frowned. What the hell? Who was Evangeline, and why did Paige seem so afraid of her? I locked my eyes on hers, silently reassuring Paige that I would protect her.
Paige took a deep breath. “’Kay.”
Marcy smiled a little before stepping out the door. She returned, wheeling in… Holy shit. The woman was a dead ringer for that Australian swimsuit model—the tall one who stirred up the media a few years ago. I’d been angry they’d called her plus-sized because she was perfect.
On second thought, this woman was even prettier, with well-defined cheekbones and rich green eyes deeper than the color of the evergreens that blanketed the mountains of Washington. Her hair was long and brown with sun-kissed highlights—a hard-to-get commodity here in the rain-soaked Pacific Northwest.
“Hi, Paige,” Evangeline said. Her eyes were wary but a small smile formed on her lips. “I wanted to walk in here but Marcy said no. I’m still recovering from my broken ribs.”
Broken ribs?
“You were in the other car,” Paige said. “I saw you in the amb-lance.”
The car that killed her parents. I stood, scraping my chair back, only to realize I was still tethered to Paige by the death grip she had on my hand. My other hand was fisted at my side.
Evangeline lifted her eyes to me for just a moment before she dropped them back to Paige. “I was. I can’t tell you how terribly sorry I am about your parents.” Her voice trembled, and her lips settled into a thin line, the obvious guilt gleaming in her eyes. Beautiful or not, this woman took away Paige’s security, her happiness.
“I miss my daddy,” Paige said. “My mommy hasn’t woked up. I’m scared.” She started to cry. Before I could lean forward to offer any comfort, Evangeline was out of her wheelchair and petting Paige’s hair. Her face was ashen, and she swayed. but held Paige as she sobbed.
“Oh, I know, honey. I know you are,” she said.
I paused, hearing the knowledge in her voice. She’d lost someone, too. I shook my head. Didn’t change the fact she was the reason Paige was in this situation.
“Don’t touch her,” I growled. With my free hand, I pushed Evangeline back.
With a sharp intake of breath, Evangeline staggered back into Marcy, who caught her. Marcy shot me an angry look as Evangeline collapsed into the wheelchair, where she wheezed out a thick, wet mewl.
Marcy turned and wheeled Evangeline out of the room with hurried steps.
“Why did you push her?” Paige asked, still holding my hand. “She was nice.”
I clenched my jaw, angry with myself that I’d obviously hurt Evangeline, and worse, for upsetting Paige.
“You gots to be kind, Kai. That’s what Daniel Tiger says.”
“Who’s Daniel Tiger?”
“From PBS Kids.”
Okay, probably some kid cartoon. The earnestness of Paige’s expression told me she wanted me to ask, “Why should I be kind?”
Paige yawned. The emotion of the visit had obviously tired her out.
“She’s pretty,” Paige said snuggling into her pillow.
No way I was responding to that.
Marcy marched back into the room, her face flushed with anger. “Come with me right now.”
I followed, guilt eating at me.
“Is Evangeline okay? I didn’t realize—”
“You damn well should have, and you better be sorry.”
Marcy waggled her pointer finger millimeters from my nose, and I winced.
“That woman’s been through hell. She had a collapsed lung as well as broken ribs from the accident.”
“The accident that killed Paige’s dad and most likely her mother, too,” I snapped back. Raising my hand, I pointed down the hall toward the rest of the patients’ rooms. “That woman’s the reason Paige is probably going to go into foster care.”
Marcy shook her head, her eyes darkening. “No. Evie almost died because Paige’s father was drunk.”
3
Evie
The man sitting with Paige had barely touched me, but the pain from being pushed lasted for hours. Breathing wasn’t just difficult, it was Herculean. Broken ribs and a collapsed lung were no joke.
Marcy, my nurse, had checked in on me before going home earlier.
“How are you doing, Evie?”
“I’m okay.”
“No, honey. You’re not. I’m really sorry. This is my fault. I should have waited until Kai was gone. He’s become very protective of Paige. I just never thought he’d hurt you.”
“He didn’t. Not really.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I could up your meds, just to get you through the night,” she offered. “You’re not taking anywhere near the upper limit the doctor prescribed.”
I shook my head, my jaw clenched. “No, I don’t want them.” That, at least, was an honest statement. I couldn’t get dependent. My mom had become addicted to opioids toward the end of her life. She’d spent days, sometimes weeks, not leaving the house. When she ran out of pills, she’d get so desperate for her next fix, she’d steal from me, her own daughter, and even went as far as prostitution to get her next hit.
There was no way I was following in her footsteps. No way. I’d come close enough at sixteen, and I had to carry those memories with me forever. I closed my eyes, wishing I could get comfortable enough to sleep. Sleep would eliminate the pain…and help me heal, let me forget for a short time.
I blinked my bleary eyes open at the sound of the door opening. My heart rate sped up as a large, obviously male physique filled the doorway. My lights were turned down to “evening low” as I called it, making it hard to distinguish features, but I was pretty sure this was the guy who’d been sitting with Paige earlier.
“If you’ve come to finish the job, hurry up.”
“God. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t believe I hurt you.”
If a voice could blush, his was. I would have smirked at the idea if I had the energy.
“Unfortunate how fragile ribs are when they’re broken.”
“Marcy said your lung collapsed.”
We studied each other, but he was backlit which made his features less distinct.
“Why are you here?”
He shook his head. “I need to apologize. Marcy told me Paige’s dad caused the accident. That he was drunk.”
A tear slipped from the corner of my eye. The combination of intense pain and my concern for Paige made me overly emotional. “Doesn’t change the fact that that little girl’s going to grow up without her dad, though.”
“No, but I’m still sorry for hurting you. More, for blaming you. I—I didn’t know.”
He stepped close enough for me to make out his facial features. Sure, he had day-old scruff on his chin and cheeks but it just accentuated his full lips. Kissable and pink. Luscious, even. His nose was straight, his nostrils flared a little, emphasizing the haughtiness there. His eyes… they were a unique mix of brown and blue. And as he noticed my damp lashes, they darkened with concern.
He pulled a tissue from the box near my bed and wiped my eyes for me. The gesture was oddly intimate, making me feel even more vulnerable than I had before.
“Paige is special,” he said with a sigh. “I want to make everything better for her, and I can’t.”
“And it’s worse knowing she’s going into foster care,” I said.
“Yeah. At least until her mom’s well enough to care for her.”
The silence thickened as I tried to get my breathing back under control. He hadn’t taken his eyes from my face. “You’re really in pain.”
“You think?” I snapped.
“Why don’t you ask for a stronger medication?”
“Because I don’t want to be addicted to it.” I slammed my mouth shut. I didn’t talk about my past. Ever.
“Take these. It’s Tylenol.”
“With codeine,” I gritted. “Which makes me feel weird.”
“You’re not doing yourself any favors by trying to tough out the pain. I bet you’re not sleeping well.”
I dropped my gaze to the nubby blanket on my bed. The patch near my left hip thinned, causing it to look a shade lighter in the semidarkness.
“Which means you’re not healing as quickly as you could. But if you took the pills, you’d get some relief and get back to normal sooner.”
Damn his logic. I couldn’t argue with a well-thought-out argument. “Fine,” I said, reaching for the cup. I grimaced as I jostled my tender body. Noticing my discomfort, Kai brought the pills to me, then picked up my water cup and held the straw to my lips. I took a long pull of water and swallowed.
“Thanks.”
“That wasn’t so hard.” He set the cup down and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it further.
I wanted to tangle my fingers in it, see if it felt as soft and heavy as I thought it might.
“Marcy told me you’re a grad student. What are you studying?”
“Pharmacology and psychological counseling,” I said. “An interdisciplinary PhD.”
He blinked at me. “Wow. That’s . . . wow. I never thought those disciplines went together.”
“They don’t. Not really.”
Kai waited, but I wasn’t going to explain my reasons. Not now and not to a stranger.
“When do you finish all that?”
“I received revisions back for my dissertation two weeks ago. Now I have to prepare the final document and practice the oral defense.”
“I’ve heard that’s a really big deal.”
“Yeah. I’ll have to complete the revisions my committee members want so they can sign off on the defense, and I can graduate.”
“I didn’t realize you’re old enough to have completed a PhD,” he said.
I blushed. “I’m twenty-six. I went straight through from undergrad, which helped.”
“How are you handling your dissertation? With the accident, I mean.”
“I’ve e-mailed my two advisors and set up a plan for completing the revisions. Marilyn—she’s my adoptive mom—brought my laptop and my notes,” I said, indicating the thick file folders stacked next to my hospital-issued water cup. The folders were thicker than George RR Martin’s Game of Throne books stacked together.
“You have to wade through all of that?” he asked, eyeing the massive amounts of paper.
“Yep. I haven’t received all the feedback yet, so I can only work on bits of it. I get tired fast so I’m not making much progress, but my advisors want the completed draft to them in another three months so they have time to read and sign off before the defense. The biggest issue is Dr. Neince wants me to rerun some data with a different control. It’s doable.” I wasn’t convinced of that, but Kai didn’t need to hear my woes.
“Well, that’s good then. Ah, I better get going. I’m not supposed to be here.”
“Visitor hours are over?” I asked.
“For a while, but Paige’s nurses let me stay until she falls asleep.”
He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, bringing my attention back there. I didn’t need the reminder.
“She, ah, she sleeps better if I read her a couple stories.”
I couldn’t help the smile that curved my lips. Kai was a softie. I loved that Paige had him wrapped around her tiny finger.
“So, anyway, Paige wants you to come back and visit her. Soon.”
“I will. I have another week here, maybe ten days, and I’d like to get to know her better.”
Kai nodded. “Then I guess I’ll see you around.”
“See you.”
He headed to the door. Grabbing the frame, he turned and looked back at me. He nodded once more and disappeared into the hallway.
I watched the spot where he’d been for many long moments, wondering if I wanted to see him again. I closed my eyes and took a careful breath. I released it and breathed deeper.
Kai had been right. The pain killers helped enough for me to relax into sleep.
I dreamed about his brown-blue eyes and those kissable lips for a couple hours before the nurse came in to take my vitals. By the time she’d left, the remnants of desire faded from my body.
I’d never experienced such a strong need for someone. Ever. I struggled with this burgeoning passion to a man I didn’t even know.
My thoughts spiraled out to the news from my insurance company. My car was totaled and the police were still investigating the traffic accident. Marilyn stopped by in time to overhear most of my conversation with the insurance agent, and she’d promised to find me a good lawyer.
But…what if the accident was my fault? What if, somehow, I’d caused Paige to lose her father? My chest ached, more from the thought than from my ribs.
Glancing over at my stack of papers, the anxiety from the deadline rippled over my skin, settling in my tensed shoulders. My desire to focus also on psychological counseling had limited the time—and scope—of my pharmacology research, and one of the members of my research supervisory committee explained I didn’t have the right experience to work in a research laboratory setting.
While I hoped Dr. Neince was wrong, so far my only job offer was from a small college—with a limited budget and lab—in California.
None of that mattered, though, if I didn’t complete my degree. I set my laptop on my tray table and opened the file, hoping my dissertation about pathogen growth in tissue and how our neuro pathways reacted to its discovery would take my mind off my other, bigger worries.
4
Kai
After my music theory class, I decided to leave my guitar at home and bike to the hospital, hoping the physical exercise would ease the worries and grief swirling through my head. Today was the two-year anniversary of my brother Marcus’s death. Correction, his suicide.
For months before he blew his brains out, I knew he hadn’t been getting better, especially after the doctors lowered his probability of walking from good with physical therapy to unlikely.
Who could be prepared for these types of experiences? Just three years ago, Marcus was hale, hearty—on his last tour in Afghanistan. When I’d seen him that last week of his life, he’d aged twenty years. The bags under his eyes were bigger than Nessa’s purse.
I shook away thoughts of Marcus as I walked through the hospital doors and toward Paige’s room. She was sleeping, and I was too restless to sit still until she woke up. I wandered down to the coffee shop before poking my head back in to check on Paige. Still out. I walked down the hall, restless, until I ran into Marcy.
“You looking for Evie?”
I hadn’t been, but I didn’t think I’d win points by saying so. “She around?”
Marcy rolled her eyes. “Funny. She’s in the kids’ room at the end of the hall. I’ll walk you down.”
Guess I was going to see Evie. I shoved my free hand into my pocket and sipped my large coffee as I trudged next to Marcy.
“How come she’s still here?”
“Evie?”
“Yeah. I mean, I thought you booted people as quickly as possible.”
“You’re in a mood today. That’s really up to Evie to tell you.”
“But it’s not just for her ribs?”
“We do keep patients here for longer when a lung collapses.”
I shuddered, trying to imagine the pain that had to cause. I readily admitted I was pain-averse. Marcus used to make fun of me, but it didn’t change the fact that I hated to bleed or otherwise be injured.
“Hey, Evie,” Marcy said. “Thanks for coloring with the kids. Kai’s here to see you.”
“No problem. I needed t
he break from my data. Hey, Kai.”
She was thinner than the last time I saw her a few days ago. Her cheekbones were stark in her pale face. Today, in the light from the windows, I counted a slew of freckles across her nose, spreading out to just a few right under her startling eyes. They were just as bright green as I remembered, and clear—an improvement, though they held too much knowledge for someone so young. Her long hair was pulled back from her face and tucked under a battered cap. One of those with a little brim that the girls seemed to favor these days, but hers looked like it’d been around for years.
“Is there something wrong?” Her thin, arched brows twitched closer together.
“Not really. Just didn’t want to be alone. Paige is sleeping.”
She nodded, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her small ear. They were unpierced. I liked the fragile perfection of her lobes. I sat next to her at the small table to one side of the room, away from Marcy’s watchful eyes.
“I should have known,” she said.
“Known what?”
“You’re Kai Luchia. Not the most common name.”
“Neither is Evangeline. But I don’t know you.”
“I don’t play in the hottest band on campus,” she responded. Her cheeks blasted with color, and she dropped her eyes. Her lashes were long, a few shades darker than her hair.
“So you’ve heard of Lummi Nation? We’re hot even by Seattle standards,” I said with a chuckle as delight spread through me, but I took a sip of coffee to try to hide my smile. The smile fell. “Or do you just know about us because of the connection to Abbi Dorsey and the GHB trial?”
Everyone on campus—and probably through most of the country—knew that story. Clay, my bandmate, and Abbi, his fiancée, were the hottest young celeb couple and had been since Abbi and her friend Jenna were hospitalized in December. New rounds of interest hit when Abbi’s ex-boyfriend pled guilty to attempted murder. His cousin, the one who’d actually injected lethal doses of GHB into the chocolates that nearly killed Jenna, was still working out a plea deal.
“Both. I like your songs. Well, the ones I’ve heard anyway. Henry, one of my employees, is pretty much obsessed with your music.” She clasped her hands on the table. “Why don’t you want to be alone, Kai?”
Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five Page 99