“Because I don’t want them. They bore me. They’re after a Savannah Heir. You’re not. Do I have to explain why?”
“Yes.”
He leaned in, placing a hint of a kiss right at the corner of my lips. “Because,” he said against my cheek, his rough stubble scraping me in the most delicious way. “I’ve had a crush on you for fucking years, Royal. But you left, and I was too young. But now you’re back, and we’re both adults. I know you feel something for me too.”
I finally found the strength to pull my face out of his grip. His hands dropped to his sides, hanging with disappointment. “You just graduated high school. You’re going to start college. Move away. You’ll be chasing college pussy and figuring out your life. I’m past all of that, Luis. We aren’t in the same spots in life. And I’m not just going to be your taste of an older woman for your sexual punch card.”
Instead of getting mad as I expected, Luis just shook his head at me like I was the naive one here. “You don’t know yet.”
I frowned, drawing my blonde eyebrows together. “Know what?”
That infuriating, sexy smirk reappeared on his face, and he leaned in again, brushing his lush lips against the other corner of my mouth. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out.”
That was what I was afraid of.
Chapter Seven
Royal
Luis had fallen asleep.
We ended up ordering Chinese food and watching late night talk shows until he passed out on the couch. After our heated argument, Luis had steered us right back into lighthearted banter, which was a relief. I happily let him make me forget about the too intense feelings that he made me feel. I pretended to be oblivious to this thing that was growing between us. Instead, I went right back to acting like I was hanging out with a friend, one that I didn’t secretly want to ride bareback with. And I didn’t mean the mechanical bull.
He was an open-mouthed sleeper, which I usually found annoying, but on him, it was somehow endearing. Son of a bitch.
With him asleep, I was able to let down my guard a bit. The sexual tension between us was so intense that my heart hadn’t stopped racing for hours. Every movement, every word, every look—it all kept making more and more steam in the pot, and I knew that eventually, if we didn’t cool down, we were going to make the lid fly right off and have the consequences of our attraction shatter around us.
I felt mad at myself for even entertaining the dirty thoughts that hit me like a sack of bricks whenever I was near him. He had a crush on me for years? Years?
I didn’t know how that made me feel. A piece of me felt thrilled, like when I was back in Ecuador and secretly crushing on Luis, watching his social media...it had gone both ways. But part of me also worried I was just a bucket list item to him, some unfulfilled fantasy he wanted to brag about—the older sister, a cougar, just another notch on his bedpost.
But another part of me knew differently. I knew that Luis had always been kind to me. He’d always been the friend that was playful but seemed to carry the world on his shoulders. All the Heirs had to grow up too fast. It was like their title, reputation, and responsibilities had aged them far beyond their years, and Luis was no exception. But I knew people would still talk. And if I had one more scandal attached to me, I had no doubt that my family would finally snap and disown me.
Either way, I refused to entertain the idea that dating Luis Salvador was even remotely appropriate. He was too young, and he had his entire life ahead of him. I was a mess, with a family who would make our lives a living hell. I was a murderer, a negligent piece of shit who’d made a patient die. I was a girl who’d nearly let her boss rape her and had been too much of a coward to tell anyone. I was a poor heiress, with nothing but stipulations and strings attached to every penny, working in a job I hated. My family would never agree to our relationship, and Savannah tongues would wag, salivating over every hint of scandal. So as much as I felt the pull of our chemistry, I couldn’t let this happen.
I stood up and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and gently placed it over him, my fingers moving with a mind of their own as I grazed along the bulging vein in his arm. At my touch, his mouth parted on a small smile, like even while asleep, he was attuned to me.
No, no, no. Nope. Not happening.
I was just about to make my way to the guest bedroom and fight my conflicting thoughts for the night when the front door slammed open.
Startled, I turned and saw Mrs. Salvador stumbling inside. She had a wide-eyed, crazed look about her, and her white blouse was covered in blood. I gasped at the large cut on her arm, gaping wide and dripping more blood onto the floor. Barely out of the doorway, she fell to her knees with a sobbing groan of pain. I was stuck frozen for a split second, horror-stricken at her sweaty, pale face and her brittle, wild hair.
But then, the blood and wound registered, and the way her brown eyes were fully dilated. My brain flipped a switch to nurse-mode, and I rushed over. “Mrs. Salvador!”
My shout woke Luis up with a start, making him topple off the couch. When he sat up bewildered, I called him over to help.
His brown eyes widened at us, where I was trying to look at her wound while she kept flailing around. “Luis, get over here!”
He scrambled to attention, rushing over, and I turned my attention back to his mother. “Mrs. Salvador, can you tell me what happened?”
Instead of answering, she clutched my cheeks with her bloody, shaking hands. She looked at me with expanded pupils, and I watched her faint awareness flicker in and out. She was high as hell. “I killed them!” she whispered, her whole body way too pale and shaky.
“What?”
“I killed them!” her yell brought on a terrible coughing fit, her raspy voice sounding strained like she couldn’t breathe.
When Luis kneeled next to her and took her hands away from my face, Mrs. Salvador turned to him with panic. “Dios mío! I killed them! I killed them! I did it!”
She kept saying it over and over again, so loud that it drowned out the steady beat of the club music below. Then, without warning, her eyes suddenly rolled back, and she collapsed in front of me. Her entire body went completely limp, her body falling against me.
Luis stared at her for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, cursing when he pulled out an empty hand. “Fuck!” Clawing his way back up to a standing position, he started frantically searching the apartment for his cell phone while I held the unconscious woman in my lap.
I never wanted to be a nurse.
I was so bitter about being forced into it that I’d never even focused on my studies. I felt like a show pony my whole life, acting the part because of my last name and not because I’d ever given much care to the work. But knowledge like a freight train hit me right then, and I started going through my mental checklist. I knew Luis’s mom had battled drug addiction for his entire life, and I knew that her condition had to do with that and the vast amounts of blood flowing from her arm. She needed medical attention now, or she might very well overdose and bleed out right here in the living room in front of her only son.
Luis started spouting off information to 911 as quickly as he could while I did my best to staunch the blood flow in her arm using the ripped end of her sleeve.
“What kind of drugs has she been doing?” I asked while racking my brain for information on overdoses.
Luis stopped talking to the emergency operator to reply. “All of them. Usually heroin, but lately it’s been prescription opioids.”
I looked once more at Mrs. Salvador before leaning closer to place my ear to her chest. Her breathing was too shallow. I sat back up and grabbed her hand. The tips of her fingers were a pale shade of blue, which meant she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
Fuck.
Thinking about the other symptoms to check for, I rubbed my knuckles over her chest bone, pressing hard, but still, she had no response. She was out cold and fading fast.
Think. Think. Think.
One… two… three… four… five…
Another breath.
Beside me, Luis was frantically watching me work, his face ashen as moisture collected in his eyes.
Another breath.
My heart was racing. I could feel Mrs. Salvador’s life at the tips of my fingers. It was like holding her over a cliff and trying not to drop her.
One… two… three… four… five…
Another breath. And another. And another.
I tried to keep calm, counting in my head to fight off my erratic and frantic concern flooding my gut. I tuned out Luis’s pacing and choked sobs. I ignored the crimson blood pouring from her limp body and staining her floors.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
Another breath.
I just kept going and going and going. I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t. I refused to let her die right here in front of her son.
Everything else drowned out into a hum of white noise in the background. I checked her pulse, kept breathing, kept counting, kept staunching the blood from her arm. All my training led me to this moment, and for once, I didn’t want to be a failure.
I kept up the rescue breathing until a firm hand landed on my shoulder and pulled me back. I was prepared to fight whoever was stopping me. I was so wrapped up in keeping her alive that I didn’t even notice the paramedics had arrived.
An EMT slipped a tube up her nose, spraying the Narcan into her airways, and I winced as I backed away from her, letting them take over. It felt like an eternity passed at that moment. I held my breath as I stared at her.
Oh God, was it too late? Had I not done it right? Not done it enough?
Panicked tears trickled out of my eyes as I watched. A paramedic pulled me further away, but I kept my eyes on her chest, praying for her lungs to suck in air.
Come on, come on, come on.
I internally pleaded while Luis continued to pace, his hands stuffed in his hair and yanking at his scalp in tortured pulls. Finally, a shaky breath escaped her mouth. A choked sob came out of Luis, and an exhale of relief came from me.
Thank God.
The paramedics wrapped her wound better to stop the bleeding, and they stopped her heart from giving out on whatever drug she’d taken. Luis pulled me up to stand next to him, and he kept an arm wrapped around me. I could feel him shaking as he watched them work on her, and I stood by, watching helplessly as she was lifted onto a cart and rolled onto the elevator. We followed behind them and watched her get loaded into the back of an ambulance while clubgoers looked on, some of them taking photos on their phones.
Luis turned wide, worried eyes onto me. “I gotta—”
“Go,” I said, waving him on. “I’ll meet you there.”
He gave me a grim nod and hopped in before the EMT slammed the doors shut, and the ambulance sped off down the street.
It wasn’t until the red and blue lights were entirely out of sight that my mind finally caught up with my shock.
Wait...Did she say she killed someone?
Chapter Eight
Royal
The waiting room for a Savannah Heir was different than the waiting room for everyone else. By the time I called a cab and was waiting curbside, I realized my dress was covered in Mrs. Salvador’s blood. I rushed back upstairs to find something to change into, but the thought of dressing in Luis’s mother’s clothes while she fought for her life turned my stomach like sour milk. So instead, I went into his bedroom and found a worn, soft t-shirt in his bottom drawer that smelled like him, and a pair of sweatpants that I had to cinch at the waist. There was nothing I could do about the heels, since Luis’s feet were enormous compared to mine, so I left them on.
I quickly cleaned up the blood from their floor and door, and by the time I washed my hands and ran back downstairs, the cab was just pulling up. I tossed my ruined dress in the dumpster on the way to the car—I didn’t want to leave it for Luis to see in his trash can. I didn’t want him to have to look at his mother’s blood more than he already had.
The hospital was the same one my granddaddy was forcing me to work in, so I recognized most of the staff. They were all polite, but I wasn’t friends with any of them. They looked at me like I was an imposter most of the time, not fit to wear the scrubs on my back—and they were right.
After going inside and checking in, I was shocked that they immediately let me inside and escorted me to the fourth floor to ICU. Then, instead of bringing me into the public waiting area, I was led into a private waiting room with a sitting area, TV, a kitchenette with coffee already percolating, and even a cot.
I looked around, bewildered, and found none other than Bonham Brodie sitting in one of the leather chairs. Relaxed jeans, a black button up shirt rolled at the sleeves, and dark blonde hair side-swept and shiny. He was way too handsome for his own good.
“Hey, kid,” I greeted him with a smile.
Bonham had always been the golden child. The cute kid with the chin dimple who had more manners in his left pocket than most people had in their entire body. He grew into a hardened version of himself though, just like the rest of them. He hated when I called him kid, so I made sure to do it often.
“What are you doing here?” he asked while sitting up, pushing his leg under his seat with a wince so I wouldn’t look at it. Godfrey mentioned that he was insecure about his foot, but I didn’t see the big deal. Maybe Ecuador changed me. I’d stopped blanching at disabilities my first week there.
I blushed at his question, not sure how to answer him. How could I possibly explain that I’d been at Luis’s house, about to spend the night, when his mother overdosed? Before I could come up with an answer, Luis Salvador strolled into the room with his head hung low, staring at the hospital tile floors like they’d personally offended him.
When he straightened his posture, I could feel the exact moment his eyes landed on me. “I was just about to call you,” he began before walking over and wrapping me up in a hug.
I could feel Bonham’s curious eyes taking in each movement, but I returned the comforting gesture. Luis had been through enough for one night, and I wanted to be there for him. “I realized after I left that you didn’t have your car.”
“Oh, I borrowed yours,” I teased. “Rides like a dream.”
Luis chuckled and squeezed me even tighter before pulling away. It felt good to hear the light laughter, even if it sounded forced and out of place.
Bonham coughed, and Luis turned around to greet him. “Hey man, thanks again for pulling strings to get us up here.”
“Of course,” Bonham said, running a hand down his left leg. “What happened?”
Luis shook his head and collapsed in the chair next to Bonham, rubbing his hands down his face. “I don’t know, dude. She just showed up all bloody and shit, high as a fucking cloud.”
Bonham shook his head. I stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what I should do. There were only two chairs, so I was standing between them, feeling more and more like an interloper.
“I would’ve completely lost my shit if you hadn’t been there,” Luis said, looking up at me.
Startled, I met his eyes. “Me?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah, you. You know your shit.”
I barely stopped myself from snorting. None of my instructors had ever said I’d known my shit when I was in the nursing program. In fact, I’d fucked one just to pass his class.
I looked away, suddenly ashamed that I wasn’t better. “I didn’t do much.”
“Yeah, you did. You did CPR or whatever that was. You wrapped up her arm to
stop it from bleeding. And you knew whatever they needed to give her for her OD. You probably saved her damn life.” Luis reached out and grabbed my hand, tugging me down to sit on his lap. I froze, my eyes darting over to Bonham, who was watching us with increasing interest. When I tried to get up, Luis just buried his head against my hair and breathed in, as if my scent calmed him.
Fuck. This had just crossed a public line, and I didn’t know what the hell to do about it. I couldn’t just reject him. Luis needed me to be here for him right now. And honestly, it was nice to be held by him. He calmed me down, as selfish as that was.
Clearing my throat, I turned awkwardly from my spot on his thighs. “Did you hear what she said?” I asked him carefully, gauging his expression.
His dark eyebrows pulled together. “When?”
“She said she killed them. She screamed it repeatedly,” I reminded Luis quietly.
He made a noise of disbelief. “She’s always saying crazy shit when she’s high.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Trust me. You can’t believe a damn thing she says when she’s high. Or even when she’s not.” He said that last part under his breath, but it didn’t escape me. I’d always known that Luis struggled with his mom’s addiction, but I never realized just how bad it was until tonight.
“I don’t know, she seemed really upset,” I said with some doubt. “You obviously know her better, but something happened. And how did she get that gash on her arm?”
Bonham perked up. “She was probably chasing chickens again. Remember that time she got high and thought the Jones farm was housing aliens?” Bonham laughed, but I noticed no humor in Luis’s eyes.
“Yeah, man. She tried climbing a barbed chicken coop to get to them,” Luis replied, forcing humor into his tone. Despite it all, he didn’t want to make fun of her.
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