Atonement: An Interracial Romance (Possession Duet Book 2)

by T. K. Leigh

From the moment we met, I’ve always viewed Wes as a confident, determined man. Even when he begged me to not push him away, he was still in complete control, even if he was falling apart on the inside.

  That’s why it crushes me to see him lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, his arms, abdomen, and legs covered in bandages, the little amount of skin visible on his face and chest pale.

  “I thought his burns were only on his leg and foot,” I manage to say.

  “The severe burns were isolated to his leg and foot,” the nurse explains. “But there were some first- and second-degree burns on other parts of his body we treated and bandaged in order to ward off any possible infection.”

  I nod, absorbing this new information.

  “We’ve also started him on a course of medication for the smoke inhalation. Once he wakes up, he’ll have to take it easy. There’s some scarring in his lungs, so he can expect to experience shortness of breath for a bit. That’s why we have him propped up.” She nods toward his bed, and I note the slight incline. “He’ll likely need to sleep like this for a while. It makes breathing easier. But we’ll also have a respiratory therapist work with him.”

  She walks up to the machines attached to him that measure his heartbeat and lung function…I assume.

  After making a quick note on her tablet, she turns to me. “I’ll let you have some time with him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” With a smile, she retreats toward the door, stopping just before opening it. “He’ll be fine. He’s been treated by one of the top burn specialists in the country, if not the world.”

  All I can do is nod. I won’t be able to breathe again until I see Wes’ eyes open and hear him tell me he’s okay. Until then, I can’t find comfort in her words, no matter how reassuring they are.

  Once she closes the door behind her, I walk toward the bed, doing my best to keep my tears at bay, but it’s impossible, a few sliding down my cheeks now that I have a moment to myself and can let go of everything I’ve kept inside the past several hours. Hell, the past several weeks.

  From learning who Julia’s husband truly is. To being arrested for defending myself. To Sawyer making a sudden reappearance in my life, then going on national television to paint me a liar. To the run-in with Grady. To the fire.

  I’m emotionally drained.

  Lowering myself into the chair beside the bed, I gently wrap my glove-covered hand around Wes’ bandaged one, wishing I could feel his skin on mine.

  “I’m so sorry, Wes,” I choke out. “I should have been with you. Should have been the one in that house.” I take in his slumbering form, the subtle rise and fall of his chest offering me some semblance of comfort.

  “But I know if you were awake, you’d tell me you’re glad I wasn’t.” Sniffling, I swipe at my tears with the sleeve of my protective gown. “Which is ridiculous, but that’s just the type of person you are. You’d happily suffer third-degree burns to prevent me from experiencing a single iota of pain. And that’s why you don’t deserve this, Wes. Why you don’t deserve any of the shit you’ve been through the past few months. Because you are such a good person.” I lean over the bed, resting my forehead on his hand, lowering my mask and feathering a soft kiss on his bandaged knuckles. “And I’ll forever be grateful our paths crossed back in June, despite the shitstorm that’s happened since then.”

  I close my eyes, basking in the warmth coming off his body. It’s exactly what I need right now. What I’ve always needed. His warmth. His affection. His love. He may be unconscious, but I can feel his love.

  The door flies open, interrupting my moment, and I shoot my gaze toward it, expecting to see one of the nurses coming in to check on him again. Instead, I jump to my feet when Julia rushes into the room wearing the same protective gear as me, eyes bloodshot and expression frantic.

  “Is he okay?” she asks, her voice heavy with emotion.

  I freeze, unsure what to do. I should leave, stick to the terms of the court order. But Wes is her brother. If I were in her shoes, I’d want to know. So instead of walking away, as I’m supposed to, I do what I feel in my heart is the right thing.

  “There was a fire,” I tell her, although she must already know that. She wouldn’t be here if she didn’t.

  “Miss Clara called early this morning. I didn’t recognize the number, so I didn’t pick up. Otherwise I would have been here sooner.”

  I blink, glancing at Wes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think to call anyone. I just…” My voice hitches.

  She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “It’s okay.”

  I shift my eyes toward our joined hands. There was once a time this woman was a huge part of my life. Even when she’d gone back to Charleston after the summer, we remained in touch, constantly FaceTiming and texting. Now it feels strained, a giant elephant in the room neither one of us wants to talk about.

  Clearing my throat, I pull away, stepping back. “Do your parents know?”

  “They left yesterday for the opening of a hotel Wes designed in Australia.”

  I furrow my brow. This is news to me. “Why didn’t Wes go?” He typically went to all the grand openings.

  “He asked Dad to attend in his place so he could stay here with you. He’s canceled all his out-of-state travel since, well…”

  “Of course,” I respond, not needing her to explain.

  “They’re not expected to land for another eight hours or so,” she continues. “Once they do, I’m sure they’ll want to get back here as soon as possible. Still, it’s about fifteen hours to LA from there. Then another five or so to Atlanta. I don’t foresee them being able to get back for at least two days.”

  I nod, finding relief in the short reprieve from having to explain this to his parents. It’s bad enough that this happened. I can only imagine what choice words Mrs. Bradford will have for me once she returns. She’ll blame it all on me. Then again, isn’t it my fault?

  “Miss Clara mentioned it was arson?” Julia remarks when I don’t immediately say anything.

  “It appears so. The investigator called me a few hours ago to ask questions. They found an ignition point. Looks like the exterior was doused with white gas, so it went up in flames pretty quickly, based on how flammable that stuff is.”

  “Did they mention who they thought was behind it?”

  “No arrests yet, but when Wes and I went to Clara’s diner yesterday, there was an incident.”

  She offers me a sad smile. “I know. Wes called yesterday afternoon to tell me what happened. And to ask if Gampy and Meemaw had ever talked to me about Penny.”

  “Did they?”

  “No.” She slowly shakes her head. “This was all news to me, too.”

  I shift my gaze back to Wes, the ache returning to my chest. “I should have known it was only a matter of time.”

  “Londyn, it’s not—”

  “I should go,” I interrupt before she can finish her statement, not sure I can handle anyone else telling me it’s not my fault when I know this never would have happened if Grady Stowe hadn’t seen us together.

  It’s the Butterfly Effect in action yet again. One seemingly innocent lunch together at Miss Clara’s diner. Normally a completely uneventful occurrence. But it set into motion events that have changed everything.

  “He’ll be okay, right?” Julia asks in a shaky voice as I hurry away from her. “He’ll be the same Wes, right?”

  Reaching the door, I pause and glance over my shoulder. “He’ll recover. But will he be the same?” I slowly shake my head. “There’s no guarantee. Take it from me. Going through a traumatic event like this messes with your head. It’s a good thing the doctors are keeping him heavily sedated because I imagine once he’s conscious, every time he closes his eyes, he’ll see the flames that almost took his life.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Recent experience.” She lifts her gaze to mine.

  “I am.”

  She exhales and nods, some
thing bordering on resignation crossing her expression.

  I’m about to open the door when she calls out once more.

  “Hey, Londyn?”

  I look back at her.

  “I’m really sorry. About everything. About…” She trails off, seemingly struggling to figure out what to say. “Well, everything.” She pushes out a long breath. “I miss you.”

  I part my lips, on the verge of telling her I miss her, too. But does it matter? Will it change anything? I doubt it.

  Instead, I lower my head and continue out of Wes’ room, a weight trampling my heart.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Weston

  “Vitals look good,” the older man checking me says, marking something on his tablet. He’d introduced himself as Doctor Carlisle, a burn specialist. “On a scale of one to ten, how’s your pain?”

  When I’d woken up earlier this morning, I was completely disoriented, wondering where I was, how I’d gotten here. But as I slowly took in my surroundings and realized I was in a hospital room, the events of the past several days came rushing back.

  Sawyer’s interview that painted Londyn as a troubled woman with a propensity to lie. Getting her out of the city to escape it all for a few days. Going to Miss Clara’s diner and running into Grady Stowe, who reminded us of the hatred we’d tried to escape. Being woken up by the smoke detectors blaring.

  After that, it’s all still a blur, except for the fact that I needed to find Londyn. Needed to make sure she was okay.

  When the fog of the drugs lifted, the only thing that calmed me down was the nurse’s assurance that Londyn was okay and had been practically living at my bedside during visiting hours.

  I wince, attempting to move my leg, but my muscles don’t seem to work like they once did. “I’d say a solid eight.”

  “Take it easy,” he tells me. “I’ll have the nurse get you some more pain killers, but we want to try and keep you off the sedatives now. The sooner we can work on some physical therapy on that leg, the better. Now, lean forward a little for me.” He places his hand on my shoulder, helping me curve my body forward, and brings the stethoscope to my back. “Deep breath in.”

  I do as instructed, then succumb to yet another coughing fit.

  “That’s going to happen for a while due to the smoke inhalation you suffered. We’ll do a respiratory treatment later this afternoon. But, all things considered, your lungs sound good.” He steps back. “If you notice you cough up any mucus that’s black or red, make sure you tell a nurse right away. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good. I’ll send someone in to give you some more pain killers.”

  “What about Londyn?”

  The doctor lowers his tablet. “Visiting hours start at eight…” He smirks, “so my guess is she’ll be here any minute.”

  As if on cue, the door flies open, Londyn rushing in wearing the protective gear I’ve seen everyone else wear who comes into the room. When she notices the doctor, she comes to an abrupt stop.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “It’s quite all right, Londyn,” Doctor Carlisle says, stepping to the side.

  Tears dot her eyes as they lock with mine for the first time in what feels like an eternity. “You’re awake.”

  I smile, my heart warming at the obvious mixture of concern and relief covering her face. “I’m awake,” I reply, drinking her in. From the mess of curls piled on top of her head. To the deep pools of her eyes. To her powdery fresh scent that wraps around me, even from the few feet separating us. I’ve never been so happy to see another person in my life.

  “I was just finishing up,” the doctor says, making his way toward Londyn. “He’s all yours. But only for a little bit. The nurses need to change his bandages today.”

  “Of course.” She swipes at her tears. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  He nods, then leaves. The instant the door clicks closed behind him, Londyn rushes toward me, not pausing as she lowers her face mask and touches her lips to mine.

  I sigh, reaching for her, wanting to rip the bandages off my palms so I can feel more of her skin on mine. At least my fingers are no longer wrapped like they were when I first woke up.

  “I didn’t think I’d feel this again,” I murmur in a scratchy voice, mouth hovering over hers. “Didn’t think I’d ever taste your lips again. That’s all I wanted. Just one more kiss.”

  I press my lips back to hers, breathing her in. But with my lungs not functioning like I’m used to, I break into a coughing fit.

  “I’m sorry,” I choke out.

  “Don’t be. The doc warned me this would probably happen.” She grabs the pitcher of water on the bedside table and fills my cup, bringing it to my mouth. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

  I take the cup from her. As the cool liquid travels down my throat, the fire within is momentarily relieved. Once I return the cup to the table, I extend my hand to hers, desperate to feel her warmth, even if there’s a layer of bandages and latex separating most of us.

  “I was so worried about you, Lo.”

  “Me?”

  “Of course.” I reach for her face, cupping it. “I was so disoriented when I woke up this morning. But once I started to remember, I panicked, worried they’d tell me you didn’t make it. I can handle the pain of these burns. But I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.”

  “I’m okay. I wasn’t even in the house. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up in the middle of the night to go to my workshop.”

  “Thank God for that. At least someone was watching over us.”

  “And I think his name is Zeus.”

  “Zeus?”

  She nods. “He came with me out to the workshop. After a while, he grabbed my pants and started barking, rushing back and forth to the door. If he hadn’t…” She trails off, her lower lip trembling. “Well, I don’t want to think what would have happened.”

  “Maybe we can call it even now?” I suggest in a lighthearted voice, trying to cut through the solemn atmosphere.

  She tilts her head. “Even?”

  “Yeah. I saved you from becoming roadkill. You saved me from becoming ashes.”

  Laughing through her tears, she brings her mouth to mine. “I guess we are even.”

  She feathers her lips against mine, and I drink in the sweet nectar of her kiss. I wish it were deeper, but I’m not sure my lungs can handle too much excitement right now.

  When she pulls back and returns to her seat, I take her hand in mine again. “Do they know what happened?”

  Once the nurses filled me in on the fire, I was desperate for more information. But they didn’t have any, other than that I nearly died.

  “Arson.”

  I feared that would be the case. I just didn’t want to think it could be true.

  “Grady?” I ask.

  She nods. “I got a call from Miss Clara on my way over here. They arrested him this morning. The police found four big cans of camp fuel in the dumpster behind the auto shop where he works. He claimed ignorance, but no one uses that much gas at once. Couple that with a diner full of people who overheard him threaten us, and it was a fairly open-and-shut case.”

  I close my eyes. I should be relieved that he won’t get away with his actions, but something doesn’t sit right with me.

  Grady’s been in and out of trouble his whole life. That’s nothing new. His rap sheet boasts a multitude of burglaries and the occasional bar fight. But that’s as far as it ever went. All bark and no bite. What changed this time?

  “And the house?”

  She subtly shakes her head, seemingly incapable of saying the words. She doesn’t have to. I know it’s gone.

  I lean back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

  In the grand scheme of things, the house doesn’t matter. Londyn is okay. Zeus is okay. The house is just a building. But in that building live so many memories. Not just of growing up with Gampy and Meemaw, but of the early days of my relationship with Lo
ndyn.

  “I’m so sorry, Wes,” she offers, her voice wavering. “I know how much that house meant to you. All the memories it holds. Maybe if I hadn’t gotten up, I would have—”

  “Don’t even think about blaming yourself for this. You’re not to blame. And the person who is will spend the rest of his life in prison,” I declare, although my words come out weak. I hope she doesn’t pick up on the fact that I question whether Grady truly is the one responsible.

  “He did this because of me.”

  “No.” I squeeze her hand as hard as I can through the pain. “He did it because of me. Not you. And who cares about his reasoning anyway? I won’t let you accept blame. Won’t let you burden yourself with this. Not when you bear absolutely no responsibility.”

  She peers into the distance, her eyes clouded with tears. “What if Julia and Imogene were there?”

  “They weren’t. Thank God for small miracles.”

  “But what if they were? What if someone else tries something in the future and someone else gets hurt?”

  “If you’re trying to get me to leave you, you’re going to have to try a hell of a lot harder, Londyn. I won’t. I told you from the beginning that I’d fight for you. Even if it means battling flames, I’ll do it. I’m more than aware that this won’t be easy, that we may face even greater challenges down the road, but I don’t care. Do you hear me?” I cup the back of her neck, forcing her eyes to mine. “I. Don’t. Care,” I emphasize. “All I do care about is you. Being with you.” I brush her tears away with my thumb. “Loving you.” My lips hover over hers, the sweetness of her breath intoxicating me. “For the rest of my life.”

  I cover her lips with mine, coaxing them open, to hell with any potential coughing. I hesitantly swipe my tongue against hers, grateful when she doesn’t immediately push me away. My pulse kicks up. As do the heart monitors attached to me.

  She giggles against my mouth, then slowly pulls away. “Something excite you?”

  “Maybe.” I force her lips back to mine, the rhythm of the heart monitor increasing yet again.

  We both still, then burst out laughing, a welcome sound. She’s the only woman I know who can go from one extreme to the next in a blink of an eye. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.