Lake's Reign

by A. E. D

  To survive.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Damn, ever thought of being a chef?” The piece of lamb I just placed in my mouth had already started to melt. Roast lamb infused with garlic and rosemary made my mouth salivate. Don’t get me started on the crispy roasted potatoes and rich gravy he made. This makes it worth getting my arm broken and stabbed in the back, literally not figuratively.

  After Jordan reminded me that I also had a sprained ankle and advised me, fairly sternly not to walk on it, he got to making this mouthwatering meal I’m currently inhaling. I had started to hobble my way over to the kitchen table to my slowly growing favorite city view, he all but dropped the lamb and raced over to me. After he finished carrying me over to the table, he went back to preparing our dinner.

  “No. I only enjoy cooking as a hobby. Being a surgeon is my passion.” Well hobby or not, this is now my favorite dish.

  “What made you become a surgeon? Did your mother's death have anything to do with that?” He momentarily paused cutting the potatoes up. The lamb had already been in the oven for forty-five minutes when I decided to see just how much of his background check that I did was true.

  “Or was it living in St. Anne's Children's Home?” I was curious when I found out that he was an orphan. Further research I found out that his mother died in a car crash when he was seven and with no other family members he was sent to the orphanage. I’m surprised he turned out so well considering the outcome of many other children that came from that home. They’re all either dead, addicts or in prison. The rare few, like Jordan, make it out to succeed in life.

  He turned around to study me with a look I’ve seen many times. He’s angry but also curious. This stare is one I know very well.

  “You’ve done your research.” He snips and turns back to continue chopping. He’s not as calm as he lets on. His shoulders are tight with tension and his breathing has deepened. I’ll give him credit where it’s due, he’s handling the situation well. Not everyone would be calm finding out the stranger you’ve met only once before already knows your life story.

  “I have.” We sit in silence for a bit before he speaks.

  “Yes and no. I was in the car when my mother and I were in the car accident. She was impaled by a strip of metal that came through the windscreen when the car in front of us slammed the breaks on. The person in front didn’t realize the light had turned red so they slammed the breaks and stopped just in time. But it was too late for us. We hit the back of their car and both cars were propelled forward into the intersection. A car from the oncoming traffic hit the side of us. By the time I came to my mum was already bleeding out. I remember crawling across the seats to get to her, immediately putting my hand over her bleeding wound trying to stop the bleeding. I had seen someone do the same thing on a movie I once watched. But she had pulled the piece of metal out before I woke up. She might still have been here today if she had just left it in. Ever since that day I vowed I would learn how to save lives in emergencies.” He spoke with so much passion.

  “And your dad? Did you know him?” I never found anything about his dad anywhere. Almost like he was hidden for a reason.

  “Never met him, but he’s here in New York somewhere. My mother never spoke about him but when she did, she used to talk about how in love they were. I don’t know why she left him, but I knew she was afraid. Even if she never said it. Actually, just a few months ago on a whim, I decided to look for him. I found a friend of my mums who took a bit of work to find but when I did, she said that my mother had a fling with a very bad man she said. You know, the type of man who’s above the law.” This had me sitting up straighter. Is his father apart of my world? Have I met him before?

  “What is it?” He asks turning to face me. Masking my face with a look of indifference, I turn back to the window. I can't be too sure and there’s no way we are connected in some way other than a random meeting in the street.

  “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” I frown. I can see his reflection in the window mirroring my own. Before long he turns back, placing the potatoes on a tray lightly seasoning them before putting them in the oven. A comfortable silence falls between us.

  “Here.” Looking back over at him, he’s closer than before and in his hand is a new bag of ice. Looking at him curiously, he smiles slightly.

  “For your foot, silly. The other bag has melted.” I look down to see the bag he placed on my ankle when he sat me down has indeed melted. Reaching down I pull the old bag off and place the newly made one on, handing the melted bag back to him.

  “Thanks.” I reply gingerly before turning back to the window.

  It felt so weird getting actual medical help from a doctor. Every wound I’ve ever had was either treated by my father, myself or time. I don’t ever ask for help and I did it with him. Now it feels weird for someone to be taking care of me. A warming sensation spreads throughout my chest at a thought. I liked when Mason looked after me. When he found out about my past and didn’t shy away. When he took extra good care of me in the bedroom. Thinking back to the bedroom I can feel my face heat up. Shaking my head, I try to rid my face of the harsh blush I know is plastered across it.

  After dinner we sat in silence again before he spoke, thoroughly surprising me.

  “What about your mum? Does she have something to do with your scars?” I started choking on absolutely nothing, not expecting him to ask such a question. What’s even worse is I find myself answering, something I never do.

  “Not directly. Why do you ask?” He stands up collecting our plates and taking them to the sink before he replies.

  “Not that I did it on purpose but I saw the scars on your back when I was stitching you up. By the colouring of some I can tell that you would’ve got them when you were younger.” I’m not ever, nor will I ever be self-conscious of my scars. My scars remind me that I survived every lesson and situation thrown at me. They remind me that the damage life has dealt me, has made me stronger and more resilient. What hurt and scarred me in the past has made me succeed and thrive in the world I live in today.

  “Lake?” Focusing back on Jordan, I notice him patiently waiting beside me in his seat at the table. Not liking the closeness, I stand up and step up to the window with my back facing him. I don’t want to see his face when I tell my story. I can still see Keenan’s sad broken eyes looking at me every time I close my eyes. I can still hear his sobs as he hugged me harder than he ever had before. I can’t bear to see another tortured look on someone's face from my past. It never bothered me because that’s just the environment I grew up in.

  “My dad. He did them.” Silence. He doesn’t say a word so I chance a look and turn to see his eyes have darkened. I’ve seen this look in his eyes before but he never lets it go too far. He nods once, letting me know to continue.

  “Look, I’m not going to get into details. Everything you could think of, he did. Hell, just one look at a scar and it tells the story itself. Stabbed, cut, shot, I got a scar for each of them. All inflicted by him to train me into his personal weapon. Because of this, I can withstand most things. I have a higher pain tolerance because everything that someone can do to me has already been done before, one way or another. Pick a scar, any scar.” Now I turn to face him, wondering if he will do what I ask. Given it wasn’t actually a question, more of a test really.

  His eyes scan over my body, tracing every visible skin before stopping at my stomach? No, arm?

  “That one, on your arm.” I look down, looking at the scar I got a few years ago.

  “It’s not a self-inflicted scar because I’ve treated them before. A burn?” He asks. He would be right. This scar I actually gave to myself.

  When I moved into my apartment, I had no idea how to cook. I tried to learn but that only resulted in me burning myself from the hot frying pan, searing a big scar right across my wrist. I opted to buy takeout until Keenan started hanging out with me for the first time. He had asked why I never cooked anything in my big kitchen an
d was equally curious when I told him I couldn’t cook. The rest of the afternoon he proceeded to show me How To videos on YouTube. Now I can safely say I can make spaghetti, lasagna, buffalo wings and steak, but he likes to cook that.

  “That would be from a frying pan. The first time I tried to cook an egg it stuck to the pan and when I went to scrap it off I didn’t realize how close my wrist was to the edge of the pan. Hence the brand.” I say, waving my wrist in the air.

  We spent the next few days getting to know each other better. We spoke about many things including my life, his life, his work. He’s just as much of a workaholic as me, except he saves lives, I don’t. By the third day I could see the jitters appear. Like a junkie when they can’t get their fix, he started fidgeting, tapping his fingers across every surface, legs bouncing and eyes shooting all around the place. By the fourth day I’d had enough and told him to go back to work. I couldn’t stand him anymore. His fix may not be drugs but it is surgery. He couldn’t go a few days without doing what he loves, and neither could I.

  It was time for me to go home but first I had to calm a certain boy who’s been all over the city looking for me.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Using Jordan's laptop two days in, I hacked into Keenan's phone and school. Well, not really hacked in, more like logged in since I already uploaded my own virus into his phone and the school camera feed was easy to hack. Also checking the cameras I placed around his apartment, I noticed he hadn’t slept and eaten in days. I had no idea he worried that much about me. But with my line of work he has to get used to me being gone like this. Sometimes things don’t go my way and accidents happen. I probably would have gone to one of my safe houses but I needed medical attention and I wanted to stay off the radar. So, to Jordan's I went.

  ✧✧✧

  Opening up my front door Congo came straight to me, wrapping his body around mine. Restricting my legs from movement, I fall to the ground laughing. Someone's sooky that I left.

  Half an hour later, Congo seems happy enough to let me go, getting his fill of hugs and kisses. Standing up and dusting myself off, I walk past the kitchen to my bedroom in desperate need of a hot shower. If I wasn’t so distracted with Congo and getting a shower, I would have noticed the dainty gold chain with a small pendant on my nightstand. If only I had seen it, then I could have prevented everything that was about to happen.

  But I didn’t.

  Instead I let my new life distract me from my basic instincts. If I wasn’t so distracted then my life would never have turned out the way it did. If I wasn’t so distracted, I would have never lost him.

  ✧✧✧

  After my much-needed shower I texted Keenan. I know as soon as he received that text, he’d be on his way home, if he wasn’t already.

  Sure enough, ten minutes later my front door swings open with a vengeance. I don’t even have time to stand up from the couch properly when Keenan tackles me back down. Arms clamped tight around my body, I have to maneuver his arms higher to get the pressure off my stitches. I only have a few days before I can take them out and I don’t need them ripping before then.

  “Slow down! You’ll open my stitches.” Immediately his arms loosen around my body before my shirt is lifted up. His eyes scan over my healing bruised ribs before he spins me around. Lifting my shirt up higher, he sees the stitches. After my shower I had taken off the bandage not bothering to re-apply it. Fresh air would do it good.

  “What happened, Lake? Why’d you leave me?” His voice cracked at the end, causing my chest to become tight. I would never leave him.

  Pulling my shirt back down as I turn around, I stop. Tears glisten his eyes and threatening to spill. Breathing in deeply, I feel my own eyes start to water.

  I’ve never had a sibling so I wouldn’t know what a sibling bond feels like but maybe this is what it's like. When he hurts, I hurt. I don’t like seeing him like this. This isn’t who he is and I shouldn’t be causing him to cry. Pulling him into me, I hold him tight against my chest and willing his tears to go away, along with the tight feeling in my chest. Without a word, he hugs me back. I feel the front of my shirt become damp as his tears silently fall. I even feel one of my own slowly slide down my cheek.

  Why was I so stupid? Of course, he’d be upset. How could I ever think he’d be okay not hearing from me for a few days. His parents dumped him in his apartment and abandoned him. Now he thinks I did the same. If I could go back in time to a few days ago and let him know I was okay then I would. But it’s just another thing that I couldn’t change.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  That night I cooked us spaghetti that Jordan had shown me how to cook. It was so simple that I felt stupid when watching him make it but I have to say that I re-created it beautifully.

  We fell asleep on the couch together watching horror movies and laughed at all the characters who died straight after asking that stupid who’s there line. I woke up the next morning with both Keenan and Congo cuddling me. It was hard not to smile from the love both of them openly gave. It’s still strange to be loved and expect nothing in return from anyone.

  I still felt incredibly guilty over hurting Keenan with my stupid reasoning that he would have to get used to me being away for a certain amount of time as I ordered our favorite breakfast.

  After showing and getting dressed I woke the sleeping beauty with our breakfast set out on the coffee table.

  “That smells so good.” I chuckle. He always wakes up from the smell of food.

  “And my favorite food too, what’s the special occasion, Lake?” He questions. Swallowing my pride and slight fear I answer him honestly.

  “I wanted to say sorry. Sorry for not letting you know I was okay.” His mask that he always hides behind slips, showing the raw emotion of what he went through when I was away.

  “It’s okay. You were hurt.” But it wasn’t just that. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I had every opportunity to let him know I was okay but chose not to. Seeing him last night I knew that truth would hurt him more than physical pain.

  “How about we go out to dinner tonight. You can choose the place.” He looks happy before a blush travels up his neck and a coy look settles upon his face.

  “I can’t tonight. I ugh.. haveadate.” He shoots out too fast for me to understand.

  “I have no clue what you just said. You have a habitat?” I think. What’s a habitat got to do with dinner tonight? He breaks out in a fit of laughter making me slightly annoyed at what’s funny.

  “Not habitat, Lake.” He wipes the tears from his eyes before calming himself and clearing his throat before he continues.

  “I have a date. With Ruby.” He ducks his head from my view to hide his ever-growing blush.

  “Oow, so you’re finally giving up your hoe ways for a girl.” I say. He laughs before slightly shaking his head.

  “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a uh, virgin, Lake.” He stutters out.

  “What?!” This I did not see coming. The amount of hickeys and late night booty calls he’s had makes me think bullshit. But the honest and pure look on his face makes me believe him. He looks insecure as he sits there hiding his face.

  “But all those girls you’ve had over? And the hickeys?..” Is he really?

  “I said I was a virgin, Lake. I never said they didn’t suc-”

  “Don’t finish that sentence!” Eww, this is not a picture I need in my head.

  Ever.

  “Well, where are you going tonight?” I try to say over his laughs. It takes a few minutes for him to calm down again before he answers.

  “I thought I’d take her to The Blue Hydrangea. I heard it’s one of the best five-star restaurants in the city.” I nod. I heard a lot about that restaurant too and even made a mental note to check it out.

  “That will be nice.”

  We eat our breakfast and spend the day hanging out together. Ever since I spoke of my past with Mason and Keenan, I’ve found myself opening up to Keenan
a lot more. I’ve found myself laughing more openly, talking more and my PTSD attacks have become less. It’s crazy to think that only a few short months ago I was a walking brick wall. I hardly ever let anyone come into my personal space and I hardly ever conversed so openly like this with Keenan. I can’t help but think that Mason is the reason to all of this. He’s the one that broke me out of my stoic persona that restricted me from living. It wasn’t until Mason that I finally realized that I had a choice on how to live my life. I had the choice on loving someone if I wanted too. Even though I wouldn’t know how to be a girlfriend, I know that with Mason I will be okay. Because I will have both him and Keenan in my life to keep me grounded and to remind me that I am my own person.

  After Keenan left for his date looking sharp, I decided to go for a walk. It feels like I haven’t had much time to myself lately. Yeah, I spent five days at Jordan's but he was there for most of it. I can’t remember the last time I just walked through the city and thought. Reminisce on life and how great it’s been lately. I know I should probably think of it like it’s been the shittest months of my life lately from all the panic attacks and breakdowns I’ve had from Mason but they’ve helped me. The breakdowns helped me realize things I never had before.

  Zipping up the brown leather jacket, I fix the grey cotton hoody part before flicking my ponytail over the top. With my tights covering my legs and knee-high laced boots on, I step out into the winter air. Winter had well and truly arrived in New York with the weather forecasted to have snow later in the week.

  Nodding to the door man I leisurely walk down the street with no destination in mind. Walking through Central Park at night I can truly appreciate the beauty. I only ever had a one-track mind when I came here and to grow my business so I never got to really appreciate the city. But with an overpopulated city comes the crack heads. The people so doped up and crazed to get their next fix that they don’t care if they hurt or kill anyone in the process to get it. Like the ones that have been following me now for about ten minutes. So far they kept their distance but as the minutes ticked by, so did their footsteps. Growing increasingly closer to me I spot a darkened part of the park and head towards it. I would never do anything so out in the open like here but these two junkies will definitely chase me down and with a healing ankle, arm and stitches still in my back, I won’t be able to get far. With their one-track mind they would be able to outrun me.