A car had stopped on the other side of the road, signal blinking as the driver waited for a parking spot to become available. Blue darted over the white center line, aiming to cut in front of the stationary car. She was in the middle of the lane when she heard the loud roar of a motorcycle engine. Instinct snapped her head around.
A single headlight bore down on her so fast she barely had time to register it.
Then the world went black.
Chapter Two
They were taking too long. Way too long.
Eddie shot out of his seat, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the doorway. Silently willing someone — anyone — to enter the hospital waiting room and tell him that Blue was going to be okay.
That she was alive.
She’d been in surgery for more than two hours. Lying on a table while doctors tried to put her back together.
“She’ll be okay, Eddie,” Maggie said.
He could feel her gaze on him as he started pacing again, needing to do something to burn off the adrenaline jangling its way through his body.
“You don’t know that.”
“Blue’s tough. She’s young. She’s healthy. The ambulance was there within a matter of minutes…”
Eddie shook his head, unable to accept Maggie’s reassurance. The image of Blue’s slight form being tossed through the air like a rag doll was still too bright and terrible in his mind. He could hear the explosive crash of the motorbike crumpling on impact, the sickening thud of her body hitting the road. And every time he closed his eyes for longer than a few seconds, her too-pale face smeared with blood was there, filling his vision.
The worst moment of his life, hands down. Watching the bike swerve out from around the stationary car, knowing that she was going to be hit, that there was nothing he could do about it…
Nausea churned in his gut. Why didn’t someone — a doctor, a nurse, someone — come and tell them what was happening? Didn’t they know that people went nuts imagining the worst when they had nothing else to go on?
“Sit down. You’re making me dizzy,” Rafel said.
Eddie ignored his brother, pacing to the end of the room before swiveling on his heel. If he was a religious man, he’d be on his knees, pleading with God to spare her. Since he wasn’t, he settled for willing her better. Willing her to fight. Willing her to survive so that he could once again be the victim of her sharp tongue and take-no-prisoners attitude.
Blue had been a part of his life for ten years and was as dear to him as his brother. She kept Eddie honest, goading him to do better, to look his faults square in the eye and attempt to mend them. She celebrated with him, teased him, partied with him. She was his friend, his confidante, his conscience.
If she died…
“Jesus.”
He wasn’t aware that he’d spoken out loud until he felt the warm weight of Maggie’s hand on his arm. He stopped pacing as she slipped her hand into his.
“She’s going to make it, Eddie.”
“She’s five foot nothing. I can lift her with one arm.”
She might have personality to spare, but Blue was tiny. No match for a motorbike.
Maggie simply squeezed his hand again before putting her arms around him and giving him a hug. He stood like a rock, resisting her comfort. Needing to hang onto his fear. At the moment, it felt as though it was the only thing keeping disaster at bay.
“You’re waiting on Ms.Sullivan, is that right?”
Eddie swung toward the voice. A nurse dressed in baggy theatre scrubs stood in the doorway.
“Is she okay?” he asked, taking a step forward.
His heart was pounding so hard and fast he could feel his chest vibrating with the force of it.
Please let her be alive.
“The doctor will be with you shortly, but he asked me to tell you that she came through with flying colors. He’ll give you more detail.”
“So she’s going to make it?” Eddie asked, unable to trust what his ears were telling him. Unable to accept that his worst fear wasn’t going to eventuate.
“She is. She’ll be sore, and she’ll be on crutches for a while, but she’s a very lucky lady.” The nurse gave them all a weary smile before slipping back into the corridor.
“Thank God,” Maggie said, and he could hear the tears in her voice.
She crossed to Rafel and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Eddie stared at them, his mind blank, aware of a sudden, crushing pressure in his chest. Rafel said something, but Eddie couldn’t hear it past the white noise in his ears.
He took off, striding from the room, leaving behind the walls that had been closing in on him, speeding up when he spotted the glowing green sign for the exit. And then he was outside in the cold night air, away from the sights and sounds and smells of the hospital, away from his brother’s gaze. He let his head drop back, staring at the stars, the knowledge that Blue was going to be all right finally sinking in.
Which was when relief hit him, taking out his knees, stealing his breath. He sank into a crouch, his butt barely an inch from the ground, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He dropped the rest of the way down, letting his head fall forward as emotion slaughtered him.
She was okay. The indomitable force of nature that was Blue Sullivan would live to fight another day.
Thank God.
Thank the universe.
Thank whoever was in charge of small, very important mercies, because he never wanted to know what life would be like without her.
Someone exited the hospital, and he heard their steps falter as whoever it was registered the grown man sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. He didn’t look up. Screw it. So what if he was a blubbering mess? Blue was okay.
After half a second, the interloper moved off and he heard the snick of a cigarette lighter. A faint hint of smoke wafted his way, and a memory washed over him, dragged from some deep, dark corner of his brain by the sensory trigger — Blue delivering a lecture on Big Tobacco to a six-foot-six, tattooed hulk of a man who’d dared to light up in her vicinity.
It was an old memory, as old as their friendship. From the day they’d met, in fact.
He’d been sitting in the tattoo parlor where she’d been doing her apprenticeship, waiting to get his second tattoo, ink-fever having already made its mark on him. She’d had long blue hair then — he’d never seen it any other color — her makeup gothic-dark and heavy on the mascara and kohl, her jeans so tight it was a wonder she could breathe. Every guy in the shop had watched as she moved around the studio, cleaning workstations, answering the phone and sharing her unsolicited opinion on smoking with the bearded bear Eddie had later realized was her boss.
Typical Blue, never short of an opinion and never shy about sharing it. She’d hovered nearby when the artist got to work on the tattoo on Eddie’s bicep, her gaze eagle-sharp as she watched the artist’s technique. She was the one who cleaned him off afterward, her touch impersonal and brisk as she applied antiseptic cream to his angry-looking skin.
“I like this design,” she’d said. “Where’d you find it?”
“I drew it.”
“Yeah?” He could still remember the way she’d looked him over as though she was mentally recalibrating her opinion of him. “It’s good.”
She’d said it simply, absolutely confident that her opinion counted for something in the world.
“My brother and I are studying at the Victorian College of the Arts,” he’d explained, trying to flick it off casually.
“La-di-da-da. They give you a free polo pony with your degree?” she’d said.
He’d been so used to getting what he wanted when it came to women that it had taken him a moment to realize he’d been shot down in flames.
“Don’t waste your time with Blue,” one of the other clients had told him. “She doesn’t do men.”
Eddie had glanced at Blue to get her reaction to the comment, catching the sly little smile that curved her lips for a bare fra
ction of a second before she schooled her expression. Later, when he was handing over the money for his tattoo, he’d checked that no one was listening before leaning closer and lowering his voice.
“Your secret is safe with me.”
She’d glanced at him, and their gazes had locked for a long beat. He’d known without her saying a word that she understood exactly what he was referring to.
“Let me guess what you want in exchange for your silence,” she’d said.
“A drink after work. That’s all.”
She’d crossed her arms over her chest and given him a look that was dark with knowledge. “For starters, you mean.”
There’d been so much world-weary cynicism in her expression he’d felt insulted.
“You think I need to blackmail women into bed?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure you’re used to them falling like nine-pins, pretty boy like you with your fancy accent.”
It was so close to the truth that he’d shifted his weight onto his back foot.
“One beer,” he’d said, even though a part of him wondered why he was bothering.
She’d messed around with something on the register for a long moment before nodding curtly. That night, they’d bellied up to the bar at the local pub, cold glasses of beer in hand, and she’d confirmed his suspicion that she’d started the lesbian rumor to protect herself from being hit on by clients. She’d been different away from work, less guarded, but also wary in a new way. As though she was waiting for him to make a move again, maybe. As fascinated as he was by her small but very perky body, he’d resisted the urge to try his luck again. She was too prickly, and he wasn’t sure he was up for the challenge. He’d never really had to work for sex before. Then Rafel had joined them, and she’d lit up as she realized they were identical twins, and the great formative friendship of his life had taken off in earnest.
It was Blue who had inspired both him and Rafel to quit their fine arts degrees and secure their own tattoo apprenticeships, and it was Blue who had allowed him to ink his first painstaking lines into her skin. She’d been there when he and Rafel decided they were sick of working for other people, too. In fact, she’d been the one to name Brothers Ink, something she liked to remind them of every few months or so. Just in case they were in danger of forgetting.
“She’s got a broken leg, two broken ribs, a torn liver and concussion.”
Eddie lifted his head to find his brother standing in front of him, hands dug deep in the pockets of his jeans. Eddie had been so lost in thought he hadn’t heard Rafel approach.
“A torn liver?” Eddie asked, focusing on the important stuff.
“The doctor called it a laceration and said she’ll be fine with bed rest.”
Eddie pushed his hair off his forehead with both hands. Trying to think, to get past panic and relief to the place where normal services could resume.
“Can I see her?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”
Eddie stood. “You should have.”
Rafel followed him into the hospital, where Eddie made a beeline for the nearest nurses’ station and asked questions until he was directed to the surgical ward. From there he was taken to recovery, where he had to talk his way around a formidable looking woman who gazed at him through a pair of steel-rimmed glasses.
“Who are you in relation to Ms. Sullivan again?” the woman asked.
“Her friend. She doesn’t have family. I’m it.”
And Rafel, and the other crew at Brothers Ink, but Steel Glasses didn’t need to know that.
“You can have five minutes. She’s woken from the anesthetic, but she’ll be groggy and sleepy.”
Eddie washed his hands and followed the woman into the recovery room, passing three beds before they arrived at the one containing a small, blue-haired figure. Seeing Blue laid out so helplessly, a tube snaking from her arm to a drip, her right calf heavily bandaged, was like a punch in the gut. She was incredibly pale, the colorful fairy tattoos on her arms and chest and the bruises on her face standing out starkly against her skin.
“Five minutes,” the nurse said before walking to her station.
Eddie moved closer to the bed, reaching for the hand free from the drip. Blue’s touch was reassuringly warm, and his shoulders dropped a notch.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you to look both ways before crossing the road?” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
Her eye socket was a deep purple, and a dressing covered her temple. His stomach twisted as he remembered how bloody she’d been when he’d fallen to his knees beside her on the road. The paramedics had said more than once that her denim jacket and leather jeans had saved her from more brutal injuries, and he saw that her other hand was brown with antiseptic where they’d cleaned the road gravel from her palm.
A wave of queasy dizziness hit him, driven by a visceral awareness that someone he loved was in pain. He bowed his head over their joined hands, breathing deeply, trying for the second time tonight to contain himself. When the dizziness had settled, he lifted his head and gazed at her face once more, consciously absorbing the fact that she was warm and alive and breathing. The bruises would fade, the broken bones mend. She would continue to blaze her trail through the world, a five foot tall warrior woman with bright blue hair and attitude to spare.
“Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. He wasn’t sure who he was thanking — the universe, maybe — but he understood exactly how lucky they’d all been tonight. “Thank you.”
Blue woke slowly, first becoming aware that her bedroom was too bright — she must have forgotten to close the curtains last night — and then that there was too much noise. Then the pain hit her — a bone-deep ache in her leg, a burning sensation in her hand, a stab of hurt when she tried to frown.
She dragged her eyes open, blinking in bemusement at the bright white ceiling overhead. A vague memory pressed at the back of her mind. Something bad had happened. Something terrifying and unstoppable.
She opened her mouth to call for help, but her throat was so dry she could only produce a tortured croak.
Suddenly Eddie was there, filling her vision as he leaned over the bed, his hand finding hers on the bedcovers.
“It’s okay, coração. You’re okay. You’re in hospital. You’re a bit banged up, but you’re okay.”
She stared up at him, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying, but so grateful he was here.
And then she remembered.
Maggie’s party. Fighting with Eddie. Walking across the road. The roar of the motorbike.
The split-second of pure, ice-cold fear as she’d understood what was going to happen to her.
“Don’t cry, coração. Don’t do that to me,” Eddie said, but she was powerless to stop the hot tears sliding down her cheeks.
She gripped his hand as tightly as she could, needing his strength to anchor her.
“I thought I was going to die,” she whispered, staring up into his face.
“You are not the only one.” His accent was thicker than she’d ever heard it, his forehead creased into a deep, pained frown.
She couldn’t seem to stop the tears, and after a moment Eddie swore quietly under his breath. The next thing she knew he was on the bed beside her, his arms coming around her as he cradled her ever-so-gently against his chest. She breathed in the smell that was uniquely Eddie — clean clothes, warm skin, traces of aftershave — her good hand clutching at his shirt, and allowed herself a small moment of weakness.
“I’ve got you, Blue. I’ve got you,” he said, and it was exactly what she wanted — needed — to hear.
He kissed her forehead, and she ducked her head beneath his chin and pressed her face against his neck. She could feel his pulse against her cheek, and the rough rasp of his beard growing in. For a few precious seconds it was the safest place on earth.
She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, but as her brain came back online, it started hitting her wit
h fragments of memory.
A flash of someone — a stranger — in a paramedic’s uniform leaning over her, asking if she knew her own name.
Someone repeatedly insisting that she remain awake.
Bright lights.
And pain — or, at least, the memory of it — burning along her nerve endings, stealing her breath.
And, most disturbingly, that moment, over and over, when she’d stared in frozen horror at the headlight coming toward her and understood, absolutely, that she would never know what it was like to make love to the man who was now holding her in his arms, to have him inside her, to know him the way she’d always wanted to know him. That her chance to love and be loved by him was gone, forever.
She lifted her head, pulling away from him. Confused and confronted by the images and memories and thoughts pummeling her.
“Am I hurting you?” Eddie asked.
“A little.”
He released her immediately, as she’d known he would, easing away from her and sliding off the bed. The relief she felt was indescribable. As lovely as it was having him hold her, it scared her how much she wanted it, how weak she was feeling. She’d always been so clear about what she wanted from him, about who he was and who she was. But that remembered moment of regret…
It was profoundly unsettling to realize that her — potentially — last mortal thought had been about what could have been, if she’d been brave enough to go there. It overturned everything she thought she knew about herself.
“You want some water? They said you’d probably be thirsty when you woke up,” Eddie asked.
“Yes, please.”
She watched as he poured her a glass from the jug beside her bed, taking note of his five o’clock shadow and wrinkled shirt and jeans. The same clothes he’d been wearing at Maggie’s party.
“What day is it?” she asked.
“Monday morning. Early.”
Maggie’s party had been Saturday night, which meant Blue had lost a whole day and a bit. Eddie handed her the glass, then helped her sit up enough to swallow. The movement made her ribs and belly ache, and she let out a little gasp, almost dropping the glass. Eddie’s hand was there to steady hers, his green eyes dark with concern.
Anticipation Page 2