Surrender (10 page)

Kameron Maldonado was a ruthless businessman.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I powered down my computer and set out to do my regular Sunday thing. My brother was nowhere to be seen—not in his room, not in the apartment at all. That was okay. I didn’t want to deal with his sorry-ass hangover today. While dancing to the tunes cranked on my stereo, I scrubbed the bathroom and kitchen, dusted and vacuumed and cleaned, stripped my bed and washed, dried, and folded the laundry. Then I headed out to do the grocery shopping for the week.

By eight o’clock I was ready to go horizontal for the rest of the night. After putting away the groceries, I flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. I must have flipped through three hundred channels before concluding there was absolutely nothing to watch.

The front doorknob rattled as I was heading back to my room to grab my computer.

My brother, looking like he’d been run over by a truck, stumbled into the living room, took one steps, two, and collapsed on the floor.

I dashed over to him, rolled him over. His mouth was bleeding; his face was swollen and red. I grabbed the phone and called 9-1-1. And after I had more or less shouted for help in a panic, I dropped the phone and tried to wake him.

He didn’t flutter an eyelash.

Was he . . . ? Breathing?

Was he . . . ? Not breathing?

A sob collected in my gut and I couldn’t hold it down. It burst out of me, painfully. Tears streamed from my eyes. “Come on, Joss. Wake up, dammit.”

Nothing.

“Joss!” I shouted. I bent my face over his, feeling for breath.

Nothing.

Nothing!

No!

I shook him. I screamed again. “You can’t leave me! You can’t! You’re all I have!” I couldn’t see. My eyes were full of tears, burning and blurred. “Joss!”

A loud knock on the door had me up on my feet. I dashed to open it. Unable to speak, I stuttered and pointed, “Th-th-there.”

One of the techs went to my brother, stooping down and checking for a pulse. A second one, followed by a policeman, halted next to me and began firing questions at me that I couldn’t answer.

“What happened?”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“How long has he been unconscious?”

“How did he get home?”

“Was he in some kind of altercation?”

I kept repeating, “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know!” And crying. And asking if he was going to be okay.

A tech had given Joss an oxygen mask and started an IV. He wouldn’t do that if my brother was dead, would he?

“Is he alive?” I asked, wiping tears from my eyes.

The tech nodded, then went to help his partner lift him onto the gurney.

The officer stepped aside to take a call.

I watched them roll my brother out, arms wrapped around myself to try to ease the trembling.

“We’ll be taking him to County Hospital. Do you have anyone to drive you?” one tech asked me as they wheeled my brother toward the door.

“I don’t know,” I responded.

“I strongly suggest you not drive in your current state,” the tech said.

“I won’t,” I said, automatically, without thinking.

“If you can’t make it up there for a while, you can call and get updates,” he suggested.

“Okay.”

Minutes later I watched the red and white blinking lights disappear into the darkness.

The police officer stepped up to me then. “I was able to find out a little more about your brother’s whereabouts tonight. He was in an altercation with another man. A witness called it in. I’m going to take her report now. She’s one of your neighbors.”

Sniffling and hiccupping, I dragged my hand across my face. “I think I know who she is. I haven’t seen her tonight. She lives down the hall, I think.”

“She’s at the hospital too.”

What had my brother gotten himself into now? My stomach twisted. “Oh.”

“I’m heading there now to get more details.” The officer pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to me. “In case you need to reach me.”

10

T
hat night was one of the longest in my life.

I ended up waiting a while, until I wasn’t feeling like I was going to pass out or throw up, before driving myself up to the hospital. I managed to get there and back without killing myself or anyone else. I did a lot of sitting and thinking at the hospital while my brother was put through one test after another. Brain scans and MRIs. He didn’t regain consciousness, and was eventually admitted and moved up to a room on the third floor. I stood at his side whenever I could, my hand resting on top of his. But at the urging of his very kind nurse, I eventually left. I rolled into my parking spot at a little before six o’clock in the morning, went inside, and headed straight for the kitchen. I started up the coffeemaker first, then scalded myself in the shower, hoping that would wake me up a little.

As I dressed for work, I wondered if I should call in sick. I was so exhausted I could barely see. How would I make myself sound and look coherent?

A little desperate, I tried calling Kam. He didn’t answer, so I left a message and hung up. Assuming I had no choice but to go in, I downed almost a full pot of coffee and drove to work.

My eyes were still a little bleary, but the caffeine was doing its job. I felt jittery but also awake. God help me when the effect wore off in about an hour.

Trying hard to quell the caffeine overdose shakes, I hurried inside. Adding to my jittery mood, I was anxious to see Kam. Would he kiss me like he did Friday night? Would he tie me to my chair and make me beg for release? Or would he try, once again, to just be “friends”? This ride with him was worse than any roller coaster, full of jerks and hairpin turns, wild plummets. Thrilling but also frustrating and confusing.

Waving at Stephanie at her post outside Kam’s office, I hurried through the doors.

Empty.

Damn.

My mood sank.

I went into my office and plopped down at my desk, scanning the surface for notes from him.

Nothing.

Shoving my disappointment aside, I got to work, beginning with the most mundane task—filing. If Kam didn’t come into the office today, it was going to take a lot of caffeine for me to keep motivated. A lot.

 

Nine hours later I powered down my computer.

There’d been no sign of Kam all day. Not a text. Not an e-mail. Not a phone call. Nothing.

A little bummed, and very tired, I drove back to the hospital to check on my brother. Because I hadn’t had a lot of sleep the night before, I planned on making this a quick visit. I hoped Joss would be awake and I could talk to him. He’d put me through the wringer lately, but last night was by far the worst. At one point I had been sure I’d lost him. And it terrified me how devastated I had been. All I wanted to do now was tell him how much I loved him. How much I needed him.

Reluctantly, I shut off my phone when I went inside, following hospital protocol. A part of me had hoped Kam would call me after I left work. Maybe I wouldn’t see him at all today, but it would be nice to at least hear his voice.

I went up to Joss’s room. He was sleeping. His face still looked awful. In fact, it looked worse. One eye was swollen and purple, and much of the rest of his face was deep scarlet and blue. I couldn’t imagine what had happened, how he’d been battered so horribly. In truth, I didn’t want to even try to imagine. It was too horrifying.

His nurse came in a few minutes later and gave me some good news. Joss had regained consciousness for a little while last night, but he had been in a lot of pain. He had several facial fractures as well as a broken rib. They had given him some medication to help him rest. She didn’t expect him to wake any time soon, so I sat at his bedside for a while then, completely worn out, went outside to check my messages and head home, to my soft, comfy bed.

As I dragged my heavy body toward the exit, I saw that it was raining outside. Correction, it was pouring. The sky to the west was clear, so I decided to wait under the overhang for the rain to let up. I powered up my phone while I waited.

It chimed. I had a message.

I checked my phone log.

Kam had called, about an hour ago.

I was in the process of checking his message when another call came through. Kam again.

Suddenly not so exhausted and weary and crabby, I answered, “Hello?”

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice high and bouncy and full of excitement.

“Ready for what?”

“Didn’t you receive my message?”

“Yes, but I . . . didn’t have a chance to listen to it yet.” I stuck my free hand out from under the shelter to see if it had stopped raining.

Good enough. Moving quickly, I headed for my car, stepping around puddles as I hurried along.

“Oh, I hope this doesn’t mean I can’t see you tonight.”

He wanted to see me tonight!

My heart did a triple flip with a twist.

“I’m on my way,” he said. “How soon can you be ready?”

“Oh. Um.” I checked the clock on my phone. “I’m not at home.” I picked up the pace, race-walking.

“Where are you?”

“The hospital.”

“Why? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s my brother. He was . . . attacked last night,” I lied. In truth, I hadn’t heard a word from the police yet. I didn’t know if he had been the aggressor or the victim, whether he would go to jail when he was released or come home.

“Attacked? What hospital?”

“County.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I just need to turn around.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need—”

“Tell me you don’t want me there and I won’t come. But otherwise I’m on my way.” He didn’t speak, not forcing the issue. Neither did I, not fighting him. “Like I said, I’ll be there in twenty. Meet me in the lobby?”

“Thanks.”

“It’s no problem.”

I clicked off and, instead of going to my car, made a beeline for the nearest bathroom in the hospital.

Despite having primped for work this morning, I looked like crap. The wind—I’d driven with the windows down to keep myself awake—had wreaked havoc on my hair, my makeup was pretty much gone, and I had dark, ugly, purple circles under my bloodshot eyes.

I dug into my purse, pulled out an arsenal to fix myself up, and did the best I could with what I had. In the end the improvement was small, but it was visible.

When I sensed it was getting close to that twenty-minute deadline, I headed outside to see if he’d called again. I couldn’t get any reception inside. Not one bar. As I was waiting for my cell phone to connect to the network, I saw a black sports car zoom into the parking lot. It zipped into a parking spot.

I watched to see who got out.

Kam.

He literally sprinted across the parking lot, hauled me into his arms, and gave me a crushing hug. He smoothed my hair as he held me, a sweet, soothing gesture. When I tipped my head up to tell him I was okay, he caught my chin, dipped his head down, and brushed his mouth across mine.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

“That bad?” I made an attempt at a joking tone. He saw right through it.

“You’re always beautiful.” He ran his hand down the side of my face.

I tipped my head, leaning into his touch. My heavy eyelids dropped. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Something flashed in his eyes as his gaze met mine. “You came to work. Why didn’t you call me? I would have told you to stay home, get some rest.”

“I tried. You didn’t answer.”

His lips pursed. “If that ever happens again, just leave a message and stay home. You should go home and get some sleep.”

“I will. I just wanted to check on him. See if he needed anything.”

“Have you done that?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I’ll take you home,” he said.

“I can drive myself—”

“No, you’re too tired to drive. You shouldn’t push yourself so hard. Going to work then coming here.”

“But that’s what I do,” I explained. “I take care of my brother. I do my job for you.”

“Yes, well, there’s nobody looking after you.” He hooked an arm around my waist.

“True, but—”

He started walking toward the parking lot, pulling me along with him. “You won’t be any use to your brother, me, or anyone else if you let yourself get so run down you fall ill.”

I’d heard that before. But as of today I had yet to fall ill from being overly tired. “I’m fine.” Using every ounce of strength I could muster, I pulled away from him. As much as I kind of liked being protected, cared about, this was overdoing it a bit.

“No, you’re not fine.” He reached for me, but I jumped back again.

“Stop it. I don’t need you telling me what to do. I’ve been doing just fine all this time, making my own decisions.”

Kam froze. His mouth opened, then snapped shut. “I apologize. I was just trying to help.”

“I know. Has anyone ever told you that you go a little overboard sometimes?”

He blinked. “No. Overboard?”

“Well, you do.”

Looking introspective, he nodded. “It seems I do. With you.”

His admission took the fight out of me. I even managed a smile. “I appreciate the fact that you seem to care—”

“I do.”

“I can tell.” Turning back toward the hospital, I waved for him to go with me. We fell into step, side by side, walking back to the hospital entrance. “I’m going up to check on my brother one last time. He’s been unconscious since last night. I’ll feel better if I can at least talk to him. Then I’ll head home.”

“Will you let me buy you some dinner?” he offered.

“Maybe. I’m not really in the mood to go out.”

“That’s okay. I have something in mind. Something I think you’ll like.” Surprising me, he said, as we approached the elevators, “I need to make a few calls. I’ll wait for you down here. Unless you need me to go up with you?”

“I’m okay. Make your calls.” The elevator bell chimed. As I turned to step into the car, Kam reached for my hand, caught it, and gave it a squeeze.

He said, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Our gazes met and locked, and my heart did a little jump in my chest. He looked so . . . sad. Or maybe it was worry. Because of me? Was I really that significant to him?

Really?

My insides warmed.

He cared about me.

My face flushed.

Cared.

Me.

The elevator stopped on the third floor, and I scurried out. Walking as fast as I could, I rushed to my brother’s room. The door was open. I stepped inside.

Joss rolled his head, turning it toward me, and opened his one good eye.

He was awake! I dashed to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

He visibly swallowed. “Thirsty.”

I checked his bedside tray. There was a pitcher of ice water and some cups and straws. I poured a little water into a cup, poked a straw in it, and held it for him so he could sip. His eye found mine. After he’d taken his fill, I set the cup on the tray.

“What time is it?” he croaked.

“A little after eight.”

“Have you been here all day?” he asked, voice scratchy and hoarse.

“No. I went to work.”

He lifted a hand. There were IV tubes taped to the back of it, and it shook as he reached for me. I placed mine in his. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“That’s what big sisters do.”

“Not all big sisters. Am I in trouble?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What do you remember?”

“Sue called me and asked me to go with her when she picked up Eduardo from her ex’s house. When we got there, her ex-husband came outside and started shouting at her. She got out of the car, and they started fighting. The bastard punched her. In the fucking face. I couldn’t just sit there and watch that. Not . . . no. I couldn’t sit there and watch that shit. I had to help her.”

“I’m sure the police will see that when they do their investigation.”

“The police.” He sighed. “They were called?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about this time. Not if what you told me is true.”

“It’s true. I swear.” He tightened his hold on my hand. “Do you know what happened to her? And Eduardo?”

“No.” I didn’t tell him what the police officer had said, about Sue being in the hospital. I didn’t want him to worry about her or her son.

“Can you find out?” he asked, motioning to the cup again.

I lifted it to his mouth. “I can try.”

His eye was pleading as he sucked on the straw.

Like I could deny him anything when he looked that pathetic. “I’ll find out what I can. You need to rest. Heal.”

“Thanks.” He pushed the straw out of his mouth with his tongue, and I set the cup on the table.

“Have the doctors said anything about your condition?” I refilled his cup, in case he wanted more later.

“Yeah. They told me I have a few bruises, some fractures in my face, and a broken rib. I think they’re keeping me one more day.”

“Okay.” Standing at his bedside, I felt my body getting a little limp. The caffeine was wearing off. Fast.

“Go home,” he murmured, looking sleepy too.

“I hate to leave you here alone.”

“I’m fine. They’ve got me pretty doped up. I’ll probably sleep most of the night. You don’t need to sit here and watch me.” He released my hand, giving it a little push. “Go home.”

“Okay.” I bent down and kissed his forehead.

He gave me a little shove when I didn’t get moving right away. “Go.”

“Fine. I’m going.” I grinned. “Call me if anything comes up. I love you, Joss.”

“I love you, too.” He waved me away. “Bye, sis.”

“Bye.”

I was hugely relieved after seeing him awake and talking, and after hearing his side of what happened last night. He was going to be okay. I wasn’t going to lose him. Not today.