Fall On Me (5 page)

At the time my body had shut down and had
been running on less than eleven percent kidney function. Basically
I was dying. I would have died if my mother hadn't come out of
hiding and saved me. And while they had removed my left kidney–the
one the bullet had penetrated–and replaced it with Tracy's one, Dr.
Michaels, my nephrologist, had hope that my right kidney would
eventually begin to function normally. I was afraid to get my hopes
up too much. I didn't dare.

I knew I owed Tracy my life. Without her I
wouldn't be here. Lord knows I was grateful, but my gratitude
didn't change the past. It didn't erase my memories, or lack
of.

Twenty years' worth of memories that didn't
include her. I didn't have one single recollection of the woman who
called herself my mother.

The only mother I had known was the one I had
prayed to every night of my childhood to come and take me in my
sleep, because being an angel in heaven with my momma seemed more
appealing than being a battered child at the hands of my daddy. The
mother who I'd sent silent messages of misery to every time my
father put his hands on me. The mother whose death I had spent my
life feeling guilty for. The mother who I'd been told died giving
birth to me. All lies…

The worst thing about this whole messed up
situation was Kyle's lack of understanding. I loved that man with
every fiber of my being, but his attitude hurt me. He was one
hundred percent pro-Tracy.

Kyle didn't understand my animosity towards
her. But then again, he had never been a six year old girl forced
to hide in the woods all night because her daddy had beaten her on
her backside with a bicycle chain for eating the last slice of
bread and then hit her harder for crying. Nor had he been that
ashamed little girl when she had to let her best friend put cream
on the wounds. Or an eleven year old girl who'd thought she was
dying when she got her first period because no one had explained to
her a menstrual cycle.

I had been that girl.

And I would never forgive the fact that there
was someone out there who could have protected me–should have
protected me–and didn't. I didn't have any photographs to document
my childhood. There were no knitted booties or boxes of treasures
marked 'Delia' to show that I had been born, let alone loved. All I
had from my childhood was nightmares and scars.

I had a daughter and I knew in my heart that
there wasn't a force on this earth that could stop me from
protecting her. I understood what it meant to be a mother. I just
didn't understand what it was like to have one. I had survived
twenty years without one, I didn't need one now.

The door of our hotel room burst open and my
heart almost climbed out of my throat. Call it survival instincts
or call it me being a coward, but I couldn't stop myself from
crouching between the couch and my daughter's crib. Every loud
noise I heard brought to the surface memories I tried so hard to
stifle.

Blood pooling around her pale, sunken face. Seeping
into her blonde hair…

Those evil green eyes dancing with malice as the
sound of a gun being fired bellowed through my eardrums…

The sound of flesh ripping apart as the smell of
burning skin infected my senses…

My life flashing before my eyes as the darkness of
death loomed over me…

"Pack your shit, princess. I got us a house."
My heart restarted at the sound of Kyle's familiar husky tone and I
let out a quivering breath. "Lee, where are you, baby?"

Climbing awkwardly to my feet, I smiled
sheepishly at my fiancé. "Hi," I mumbled.

Kyle, who had about half a dozen duffel bags
hanging from his neck–and two suitcases in his hands–tipped his
head to one side. He stared at me like he could see right through
my skin, straight to the core of me, and knowing Kyle he probably
could.

Kyle Carter knew every inch of my body. Every
fraction of my soul. He was the first man I'd ever been with
intimately. The first to break my heart. The first to put it back
together again. He was my first, my last and my everything that
came in between. He was also the sexiest man I'd ever seen and I
wasn't kidding. Seriously, the man was so beautiful it hurt to look
at him. Tall and toned, he had a body worthy of an underwear model.
His short brown hair had a naturally tousled appearance–it was the
kind of hair that made a woman want to run her nails through
it–soft, silky and with just enough length to grab hold of…And when
he looked at me, really looked at me with those blazing blue eyes,
the intensity was almost too much.

I still couldn't believe I'd gotten so lucky.
This man was going to marry me.
Me.
Lee Bennett. The small
town girl from Montgomery, Louisiana. We'd talked about setting a
date but had decided to wait until the trial was over before making
any plans. Well, I had decided to wait. Kyle had pouted for three
days until he reluctantly gave in. If he had his way we would fly
to Vegas tonight. He'd tried to take me the day I said yes, but I'd
persuaded him to slow down before informing him that I didn't have
a passport.
I did now.
The man worked fast. That was the
thing about Kyle. He never sat still on anything. If he wanted
something he took it.

Kyle was a force to be reckoned with. He was
like a tornado blowing in and sweeping up everyone and everything
in his path. Thankfully, he'd decided to take me along for the
tumultuous ride and in a few months' time I would be his wife.

"What were you doing on the floor, baby?" he
asked in his deep husky voice as he placed the cases at his feet.
His eyes trailed over every inch of my body, causing the heat in my
belly to rise to my face. I dropped my hand from where I'd been
clutching my side.

"Um..." I raked my brain for something to say
that wouldn't add to the unnecessary guilt he carried.

Kyle had absorbed so much guilt from the
night of the shooting. I didn't want to add another layer by
telling him I was scared to death when he wasn't close by. He
didn't need the worry. He was a busy man. Sometimes I wondered how
he was able to make so much time for us while running twenty hotels
around the country. And I knew he felt responsible for Cam's death
and for what had happened to me. It wasn't true though. Not in the
slightest.

There were things that had happened to us in
the past that Kyle was responsible for. The lies and his constant
hot and cold attitude towards me when we first met was something I
had no problem with him taking responsibility for. The night I'd
miscarried his child while he'd been with his ex was another. But
his ex-girlfriend breaking into his house and shooting us down in
cold blood was not.

I wished I could take some of the burden off
his shoulders, but that was the type of person Kyle was. He
internalized absolutely everything negative that happened to us
until he found some reason to blame himself. But instead of moping
and sulking he turned his fear and his guilt into something
positive. He had a never say die attitude and he was a man of
action. He got things done when they needed to be done. His mental
strength and dominant protectiveness of the people he loved were
some of the things I admired most about him. They were also the
things that drove me freaking crazy.

Besides, if Kyle was blaming himself then I
deserved to be blamed, too. Rachel had cornered me weeks before the
shooting and I hadn't told anyone. She'd threatened to bury me and
I had ignored it…"I was doing some…exercise," I muttered in an
attempt to drag myself back to the present. Kyle's expression was
one of disbelief and I knew he could smell the bullshit a mile away
for two obvious reasons. One: my cheeks were as red as tomatoes.
And two: I wasn't a fitness bunny and it showed. I had hips, thighs
and a mommy ass. "You said you got us a house?" I asked as I
crossed the room to close the space between us. "Where?"

Kyle nodded his head in the direction of our
bedroom before stalking off. I checked Hope and fixed her blankets
before following Kyle. He closed the door as soon as I stepped
inside our bedroom. Pulling the straps of the duffel bags over his
head, he dropped them on the floor before tugging on my hips
gently. "I didn't think," he whispered as he trailed his hands up
my sides to cup my face. "I should've knocked." He ducked his head
and placed a soft lush kiss on my lips before pulling back
quickly.

"Where is this house?" I asked as I nuzzled
my cheek against the warmth of his chest. I refused to let him
dwell. We were moving forward. It was the only way we would survive
our past.

****

Kyle

"South Peak Road," I grunted as I held her
frail body in an attempt to calm myself down. "It's nice, baby.
Secluded." An array of emotions were running through me. Hatred
toward Rachel for causing all of this. Pity for the tiny woman in
front of me who seemed more afraid now than she'd ever been before.
And pure fucking anger with myself for not having the common sense
to knock on the damn door first. Jesus Christ, it had shredded me
inside when I saw her hiding on the floor. What the hell was wrong
with me?

"Did you sign the lease yet?" Lee asked in a
soft tone as she snuggled against my chest. "I'd like to see it
before you do."

"Lease?" I shook my head and looked down at
her. Shit, was she going to be pissed? "Lee, I bought it. I get the
keys in a few weeks."

"You bought a house?" she gasped stepping
away from me. "Just like that?" She snapped her fingers to
emphasize her statement and I couldn't help but laugh at her
shocked expression.

"Took me long enough," I chuckled. "I should
have had you moved into a house the day you came home, but I was
waiting on the right one to come up" I shrugged and smiled down at
her. "Happy birthday…well, consider it more of a sorry for fucking
up your last two birthdays…birthday." I hoped like hell the house
would make up for the disastrous birthday meal I'd thrown for
her.

Lee turned twenty last week and I felt like
the worst piece of shit in the world for making her celebrate it in
the hotel restaurant. She deserved a big bash in a huge house and
instead she'd had a cake, some candles and had been pooped on by
Hope that day and then puked on by Derek later on that night. It
was a goddamn disaster right down to the stupid stuffed gorilla I'd
bought her with the logo
'you blow my mind'
on it. I still
couldn't explain why I hadn't realized how insensitive the words
were. The only damn reason I'd chosen that gorilla in the first
place was because he had fingers and I was able to slide the
engagement ring I'd bought for her on one of them. Lee had grinned
like a lunatic and thanked me repeatedly when I gave it to her, but
when I'd discovered what was written on his chest I could have
kicked myself in the balls. I'd tried to get rid of the gorilla,
but she refused point blank to give him back. Now the damn thing
was pride of place in our bed…But my crucial mistake had been the
stupid fucking song I played on my iPod dock–and possibly the half
dozen shots of tequila I'd done with Derek–when I got her back to
our suite that night. I'd been fairly wasted and I'd dragged Lee
out of bed to dance to
Foster the People's
song
'Pumped
up kicks.'

Yeah, I was an asshole.

"Sorry about your birthday, baby," I mumbled
as I tried to block the mental image of my drunk ass singing the
words
'you better run, better run, faster than my bullet,'
to my fiancée.

She stared up at me with those beautiful gray
eyes and hit me with one of her killer smiles. "I had a great
time," she beamed. "You were so funny. You're incredibly cute when
you're drunk, Kyle."

I snorted and decided to ignore the
cute
comment before asking, "You're not pissed that I didn't
ask for your input on the house?" I forgot these type of decisions
were supposed to be made together. This was a learning process for
me though. I never had a family before Lee and Hope. Everything I'd
done before them I'd done on my own.

"Kyle, you just bought a home for us to live
in," she said in a soft tone of voice. "Of course I'm not angry.
I'm thrilled." Her eyes bore into mine with such intensity that my
skin starting to burn. She burned me with one look. Jesus, I was in
deep… "Our own place," she added with a grin as she reached up and
stroked my cheek with her small hand. "A fresh start…sounds pretty
nice right about now."

A weight lifted off my shoulders. She was
happy. I decided to take the plunge. "Your mom phoned me today." I
paused to let that sink in before adding, "Lee, you need to speak
to the woman. She keeps calling. Nonstop."

The light in Lee's eyes evaporated. I could
see the shutters closing and I regretted opening my stupid mouth
and ruining the moment. "I'm going to take a shower," she muttered
as she backed away from me. "Don't forget to check on Hope. Oh, and
turn on the baby monitor please."

I watched her stalk into the bathroom. The
sound of the bathroom door locking confirmed to me that I was on
her shit list. No surprises there. Most days I ranked first on that
list. Sighing deeply, I went to check on the other woman in my
life. At least Hope was too young to have shit lists.

****

Chapter 4

Scar
tissue

Lee

I stayed under the hot stream of water until
my skin was pruned and my anger had disintegrated. I wished my
mother would stop phoning my fiancé. It was unsettling to think of
what her motives could be. I didn't trust her. Not one bit. I often
wondered would she have come forward and helped me had Kyle not
been in my life. Was it me who she sought to build a relationship
with or was it the wallet of my million dollar man in the bedroom
next door?