Ending with Forever (29 page)

L
il must have something up her sleeve. She seemed too eager for me to get home. Coincidentally, I also have some good news of my own to share with her about Francine and Gabriel. On my way out of BPC, I texted her a quick message with the approximate time of my arrival as she requested. Rollin was already waiting for me at the main entrance. I was shy a few feet from the limo when a dilapidated William Sorté, reeked of liquor, approached me out of nowhere. Delta intercepted him before he could get within an arm’s reach of me. Out of sympathy, I gave Delta the signal to release him.

Slithering through his sluggish lids, William glared at me and slurred some angry words. “You heartless son-of-a-bitch! You killed her,” he blamed me and then bursted into uncontrollable tears, landing on his knees and burying his face in his hands. It bothered me to see a grown man weep. His dramatic meltdown reminded me of my last visit with his daughter.

Disregarding his rage, I apologized to him, “I’m sorry for your loss, William. I never meant for any of this to happen.” He was in such a state of despair, I felt obligated to reach out to him, to give him a hand. Stooping down to his level, I braced his arm to give him a lift up to his feet. Without warning, he pulled out a kitchen knife from his pocket and aimed for the left side of my chest. He wanted to avenge his daughter’s death by cutting my heart out. I attempted to stop him with my forearm, but it happened so quickly. My reaction was delayed. The serrated blade sliced through three layers of clothing before ripping into my flesh. Blood leaked from the gash, staining my white shirt bright red and then I felt pain radiating from that area. Delta tackled him with brute force, knocking the wind out of him and then secured him with a choke hold. Meanwhile, I applied pressure to my wound in hope of stopping the bleeding.

William didn’t resist him. He was terrified as soon as he realized what he had done. “Oh God! What did I do? I’m sorry,” he regretted out loud.

Rollin dashed out of the limo to aid me, to balance my instability and applied additional pressure over my lesion. The amount of blood seeping out concerned him. I could tell from his uneasy expression. Delta informed Alpha of the incident and within seconds, Owen scurried out the front lobby to rush me to the hospital. I insisted to be taken to the emergency room, but Owen admitted me into a private room instead. He secured the floor with guards at every entrances and exits for an added measure. I wanted to call Lily so she wouldn’t be worried about my tardiness, but two nurses and a doctor charged into my room to clean and stitch me up. After they were done with me, an investigator followed in to ask me to recap the entire incident.

The fireplace is burning, dinner is keeping warm in the oven, and I’m standing under the mistletoe in a cute little red dress, waiting for Carson to come up from the lobby to give him the kiss I promised earlier. I have every minute accounted for from the time he left his office until he arrives here. He texted me thirty minutes ago to let me know he’s en route. Twenty minutes pass and then another and there’s still no sign of Carson. My heart tells me something’s wrong, fearing only the worse possible scenario. I rush to the bedroom to grab my phone to make a call to Owen. His phone rings, but he doesn’t answer and I get his voicemail instead.

“Owen, please call me back as soon as you can. Carson didn’t show up and I’m worried about him.” I leave Owen a frantic message.

The next person down the list is Luke. I sent him home after Carson confirmed he was on his way to the penthouse. His phone rings once and, in a concerned tone, he answers, “Hello, Lily.” I’ve never called him before so I can imagine how alarmed he is to hear my troubled voice.

“I’m sorry to bother you so soon, but would you happen to know where Mr. Bradley is? He was supposed to come through the front door about twenty minutes ago. He didn’t text or call me like he normally does when he’s running late,” I spurt as my fear consumes me.

“Let me get in contact with the guard on duty and I’ll call you back.”

I drop the phone on the bed and pace the floor, waiting impatiently. My mind’s going crazy. What could have happened to him? Bianca is dead and Charles Montgomery is in prison. Who else didn’t he tell me about? There’s probably a long line of people fighting to seize his reign. How can my heart handle the uncertainty of his fate from day to day? Peace finds me again when I see the phone light up and it’s Luke.
Dear Lord, please let it just be my paranoia
.

“Miss Ly, I need you to remain calm. Can you do that for me?” he asks in his bodyguard tone. Immediately, I’m choked up with fear. My eyes well with tears and I’m shaking uncontrollably. Something did happen to Carson. I nod, forgetting that he’s on the phone and he can’t see me.

“Miss Ly, are you there?” he confirms.

“Yes,” I mutter.

“He’s in the hospital with Owen.”

“Oh God! Why? Is he okay?” I sob, feeling my chest cave in from the violent pressure of panic. “What happened?”

“He was attacked leaving BPC, but he’s okay.”

“Thank you, Jesus. Can you please come get me? I need to see him.” My trembling legs can barely keep my body upright. I back into the bed and crash my bottom down. How could anyone get past his threatening guards to hurt him?

“Yes. I’ll be there soon,” he answers.

~~~~

Outside the hospital there’s a swarm of reporters hovering around the entrance like hungry animals ready to feed on their prey. I can’t believe how quick these news people are. Luke and I sneak through the private back entrance where doctors come and go at their leisure, undetected. As soon as we head down the hallway to Carson’s room, I see two intimidating bodyguards standing at attention in front of his door.

“Gentlemen,” Luke addresses. “Miss Ly would like to see Mr. Bradley.” Without a single word, they sidestep with a respectful head tilt to offer me entry. As I walk past them I notice Greek symbol tattoos on their forearms—Delta and Kappa. They look fierce and threatening. I wouldn’t consider batting an eye at either one of them.

Carson is sitting upright on his bed donned in a unisex gown similar to the one he wore when I first saw him at the hospital in St. Croix. He’s speaking to someone who appears to be a law enforcement officer. From my angle, Carson looks unscathed and composed. My heart settles at once, knowing that he’s really okay. “Excuse me. We’ll have to continue this later. My fiancée is here,” he interrupts the stocky young man with a wide dimpled-chin and a cocky expression. He’s wearing a navy suit with tan leather boots that stand out to me like a sore thumb.

“Sure. I’ll check in on you later,” he insists and strides away, staring me down with his probing eyes like I can’t be trusted as he bypasses me.
What’s his problem?

“Come, baby,” Carson urges, willing me to run into his arms. He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I rush over to his side and press my head cautiously against his chest to listen to his drumming heart. ‘Thank God he’s alive’ is what I want to cry out loud. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. It all happened so quickly.” He strokes my head and face to soothe my tormenting anxiety.

“Carson, I was terrified for you. I had no clue as to where you were or what had happened to you. Are you in pain? Where is it?” I ask, desperate to know how serious his condition is and who would want to harm him.

“It’s my left shoulder,” he reveals, sliding the circular opening of his collar aside for me to see. “I stopped him before he could get too deep.” The subtle wince on his face tells me he’s hurting. 

Gingerly, I place my fingertips over his gauze dressing, which is concealing the severity of his wound from me. “He was aiming for your heart,” I mutter under my unsteady breath as new tears gather. “His intention was to kill you. Why, Carson? Why would anyone want to do such an awful thing to you?” I’m a hysterical mess again, knowing this won’t be an isolated incident.

Carson grabs my shaky hands and holds onto them. “It was Bianca’s father. He approached me outside BPC right before I stepped into the limo. Out of guilt, I gave him a chance to speak his mind. I never expected him to attack me, to kill me.”

“What could he tell you that you’d want to hear?”

“Bianca died yesterday. I meant to tell you, but then the Francine thing came up and you know how that ended. He blamed me for his daughter’s death and I understood why. I know I wasn’t kind to her, but I was honest with her at the start of our arrangement. She agreed to marry me even after I told her she’d never have my heart.”

“Why would you marry someone you didn’t love?” I ask, struggling to comprehend such an absurd thing.

“My heart was so cold then. Love didn’t mean the same thing to me as it does now. I was callous to emotions. Sex was a selfish act of need—not a union like it is with you.”

“Why me? How am I different?” I ask again for the one hundredth time, not understanding how I won the luck of the draw.

“You’re you. You’re my Lillian. I can’t explain my heart’s reasoning. I just know that when we’re apart, I hate it. I miss everything about you like your sassy mouth and your contagious laughter.” His response encourages the sprout of a pursed smile to grow on my face. “Do I need to elaborate further?” He arches one brow high at me to confirm. I nod mischievously. “Really?” he smirks.

“You didn’t mention my sex appeal,” I whisper so the henchmen can’t hear my friskiness.

“That’s obvious,” he replies. “See what I mean about your quirkiness?” he points out, making me bite down on my lower lip to stop a full-blown smile from overtaking my face. “Don’t think for one minute I didn’t notice your racy little red dress hidden under that coat of yours. As soon as they discharge me, I’m going to call on my med student to take care of my needs,” he trifles, snaking his right hand between my thighs.

“She’ll order you to stay in bed with no strenuous activities,” I smirk.

“That sounds terrible. I hate the doctor’s order already,” he complains with a meandering grin. “Will I at least get some extra attention?”

“Of course. I’ll help bathe, clothe, and feed you. Am I missing anything else?”

“Yes,” he answers, pulling me into his lips. “What about my other needs?” he mutters under his breath.

“That’s obvious,” I reply impishly. “Don’t think for one minute I didn’t notice your big bulge hidden under that sexy hospital gown of yours. That problem will receive immediate attention as soon as you’re discharged,” I assure him as my hand snakes between his thighs.

“Someone call the nurse. I want out. Now!” he hollers as I shake my head and narrow my eyes at his antics.

“Shhh. Stop,” I hush him. “We’ll go when the doctor clears you. Be a compliant patient.”

Carson regards my suggestion and reclines back into his bed to rest. His guardian angel was with him today. Mr. Sorté’s knife failed to hit any major arteries or organs. He was lucky to escape with a shallow laceration that only required about ten stitches. Mr. Sorté is spared under Carson’s grace. There will be no charges against him. He’ll just get slapped with a restraining order. “His daughter’s death is already his cruel punishment,” Carson reasons. “I see this as mine for being heartless to her and others in the past,” he confesses as his eyes reflect out the window.

“No. You don’t deserve this,” I argue, but he doesn’t respond. I let him be because it’s pointless to push. He’s already made up his mind.

  Luke and Delta escort us to the front door of the penthouse per Owen’s request. He was concerned Brianna Sorté might also have an attack plan of her own. His keenness is what’s been keeping me alive all these years, so I rarely refuse to heed to his caution. The pain medication is still effectively working on me, making my legs undependable as I stagger into our place with Lil’s help.

“Thanks, men. Have a good evening,” I offer Luke and Delta.

“No problem, sir. Kappa will be near the vicinity if you need anything,” Luke informs.

“Goodnight, Luke,” Lil bids and nods courteously at Delta.

“Night,” he replies and marches away.

Lil closes the door behind us and detains me at the entrance. “Don’t move,” she instructs, pointing her index finger above our heads. I glance up to see a ball of greens with a bright red ribbon that matches the color of her dress. “Remember the kiss I promised you?” she reminds with a coy grin. She never seems to lose that innocence about her. I nod willingly. “We’re standing under the mistletoe. That means we have to kiss each other,” she explains like it’s a novel idea. In some ways, it is for me. I’ve never kissed anyone on the lips or under the mistletoe after Emily.

“Gladly,” I tell her and pucker my lips to prepare. “Can we hang these balls throughout the penthouse?” I kid.

“Yes, of course, but don’t be caught standing under one with Luke or Owen,” she laughs and I do too, easing the shitty day I’ve had.

“Was this my surprise?” I ask, pointing to the stunningly decorated Christmas tree by the piano. This is a new experience for me, having the holiday cheer spread throughout my cold place. I’m not quite sure where my emotions stand.

“Yes. Do you like it?” Her expression is that of an excited child waiting for an approval from someone whom she truly loves and respects.

How can I deny her the satisfaction? “It’s beautiful. Did you manage it all by yourself?” I pry, folding my right arm around her waist and raking my drowsy eyes over the trimmings on the tree.

“I had a little help from Belle and Luke, but I picked out all the ornaments myself.”

Loosening my grip around her hip, she leads me to the tree. Straight away, I know the theme is fairytales. She has butterflies, fairies, castles and crystals hanging from the pine needle limbs. These are the ingredients I had suggested to her that’ll be the foundation for our own fairytale ending. Unfortunately, our destination wedding will have to be postponed for two weeks. Francine and Gabriel will be the first two candidates for Oss-Meta if they agree. I want to be around to make sure everything runs perfectly.

“I have good and bad news for you,” I turn to tell her. “Let’s have a seat,” I suggest, directing her over to the sofa, still feeling lethargic from my drugs.

“What is it?” she demands impatiently, following me.

“We’ll have to delay that trip I mentioned to you a few days ago. That’s the bad news,” I tell her.

“I can handle that. What’s the good news?”

“The Oss-Meta drug is ready. The crew and I believe it’s safe to test on people.”

“Are you telling me what I think you’re thinking?” she asks with brilliant eyes and a smile to match.

Nodding my head, I tell her, “Yes,” repeatedly.

“Will you tell Francine yourself?” she inquires.

“Yes, but I’ll have to see Wes first. We have a lot to discuss.”

“I can imagine. You probably have hundreds of questions for them. How are you holding up, hazel eyes?”

“Not too bad,” I answer.

“What about your parents? Are you planning on telling them soon?”

“I actually spoke with them at lunch today. They were very honest with me. They told me everything I wanted to know. Mother was upset of course, but I think we’ll be okay. We love each other very much. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I’m so proud of how well you’re handling all of this,” she compliments, gripping my hand.

“I should praise you, angel. You’re the one who’s gone to hell and back and still always have a gorgeous smile on your face.”

“I can’t help it. Being with you makes me happy,” she discloses. “I can’t hold back the glow from inside.”

“Speaking of glow, how are my babies doing in here?” I place my palms on her abdomen and caress with attention. “Hello, it’s daddy.” I lean into her belly and speak softly. “You two are hungry. Aren’t you? Your mommy’s tummy is grumbling,” I grin, hearing the rumbling sound echo. “We better feed her.”