I snort. “That’s an understatement,” I reply, leaning my elbows on my knees and dropping my head to my chest. “Her parents died when she was just a kid. It’s been her and Nix for years. They have no other family but each other. When I joined the team–” My mother clears her throat, the anonymity of my team is the only place where she allows me to have secrets. “Lo became family too.”

  “Until…”

  “Until she became more to me. I don’t know how it happened. It just did. Suddenly, she was no longer Nix’s little sister. She was a woman I was interested in. Then I became obsessed and fell in love.”

  “She’s a great deal younger than you,” Mamá points out not so helpfully.

  “It’s why I held off, aside from the legal aspect. But I was prepared to wait for as long as Lola needed. I wanted her to experience life. Become a woman she could be proud of.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everything,” I choke out, still remembering the agony she endured with every single tear she shed that day. “She found her best friend dead last week. Suicide.”

  “That poor girl.”

  Understatement of the century. “Yesterday was his funeral. Her guilt consumed her. Today…” I shake my head. “Today, his brother took a gun to her school. Killed three people and injured a couple more. Shot Lola.”

  “O gios mou. Why didn’t you call sooner?”

  “She’s supposed to be my everything. I should have been able to protect her. Instead, she’s laying in the hospital half dead, and I can’t do a fucking thing to make it right.”

  “Theo, you know you cannot change the course of nature. Everything that has happened, all the pain, the suffering she has endured, God would never have burdened her with it if he did not believe she could handle it.”

  “God,” I scoff. “Where was he when she was begging for the lives of her classmates? Or when she held her best friend's dead body in her lap? Where was he when–“ I cut myself off and stand. My mother is a fervent devotee to her religion and insulting her beliefs will do me no good. “I’m sorry, Mamá, I just don’t have the same faith as you do.”

  “You don’t need to apologize, Theo. I am your mother. If I cannot handle your burdens, I should relinquish my title. You curse and scream as much as you like, but Theo, you do not ever abandon this girl after you’ve proclaimed your love to her. She and you deserve better.”

  I stare at this woman who gave me life. She is wise; she is a fighter. She’s my warrior. “How’d I get so lucky to have you as a mother?”

  Standing up, she gathers my cheeks in her hands and pulls my head down, kissing my forehead like she did when I was a boy. She whispers, “It is I who is lucky, o gios mou—my son. I am forever grateful for you and your pain in the butt brother.”

  Reed is a quiet man, and it bothers her. Like me, he works on the frontlines as a cop in Jacksonville, Florida. He loves the family, but he's always had a wandering soul, so when he left, I wasn’t surprised. I don’t think my parents were either, but they wish they could see us both more often.

  “You talk to Reed lately?” Stress lines the older woman’s face as she stares up at me. “Mamá, what’s going on lately? You had that scare that you still haven’t told me about, and now you look worried about Reed. Talk to me.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I pull her close for support.

  Blowing out a deep breath, she finally speaks. “I found a lump a few weeks ago. Everything is fine. No cancer. But it was scary.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Don’t curse at me, boy. I didn’t tell you because you were on some secret mission again. I couldn’t even reach you!”

  “I’m sorry, Mamá. I’m so sorry.” I can’t promise it won’t happen again, but damn do I wish she would have called anyway. Left me a message. Something. “Have you and Bampás thought any more about moving here? You would be closer. I could see you more, and maybe…”—I hold my breath for this one—“Lola and I will one day have those babies you’ve been begging for.”

  Her entire body lights up, and I get the feeling that in some parts, I have been played like a fucking violin. “Oh, Theo! You have made me incredibly happy!”

  Before I can say a word, a nurse enters the room. “Mr. Burkhart? Lola is ready for a visitor. Only a few minutes, though.” I look at my mother, and she shoos me away with a smile on her face. “Be aware, Mr. Burkhart, that Lola is hooked up to a lot of machines. She looks far worse than she is right now. Her surgery was successful; no major organs were damaged. There was some trauma to an artery, but it was repaired. She’s going to make a full recovery.” I nod as we stop outside the glass enclosure they have Lola in.

  The nurse was right; she looks horrible. Yet, she’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever beheld.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” the woman says as I enter and stride straight toward Lola’s sleeping form.

  Sitting in the chair next to her bed, I gently take her hand in mine. Bringing it to my mouth, I kiss her, holding her close. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Lo. So damn sorry.” Seeing her like this as compared to when she was falling apart over Sam, is a thousand times worse. I believed I could bring her back from the edge then, but this time, it’s all on her. It’s up to Lola if she returns to me or not.

  “Don’t leave me, kitten. Not yet. Not when we’ve just found each other. I couldn’t stand it.” Closing my eyes, I keep her hand on my face. When I feel her fingers move, I look up to see her watching me with tears in her unfocused eyes.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” I stand, lean over, and kiss her forehead. “You’re fine. You’re going to be just fine.” She nods, tubes still down her throat so she can’t speak. Reaching for the call button, I page the nurse.

  A minute later, the woman who brought me back here comes in with a smile on her face. “Miss Bishop, it’s lovely to see those pretty blue eyes. I’m going to page Dr. Orton; he did your surgery, then we’ll get you off this ventilator, alright?” She asks the question, but after checking all Lola’s vital signs, she’s out the door again.

  “Missed you, baby.” I whisper the words into the palm of her hand, and she flexes her fingers again. “Everything’s going to be alright now.” I say the words hoping to reassure both of us, but Lola’s eyes are closing as the doctor makes his appearance.

  They kick me out of the room in order to remove her from the ventilator and tell me that I can come back in the morning. As much as I want to fight to stay with her for the night, I know it’s better if I listen. The last thing I want is to stress her out when she’s recovering, so I leave, taking my parents home with me.

  I feel elated and lost at the same time. Something is changing, and I’m not sure what.

  “Relax, Theo, everything will be fine now. Lola is fine,” my dad says, and I smile, but I don’t feel it.

  Something is…different.

  11

  Lola

  “I Walk the Line" by Halsey

  Disinfectant. Antiseptic. It’s all I smell. It invades my nostrils and mouth like a bad sushi roll. I want to run, but I can’t move. I want to scream, but I have no voice. I want to cry, but my tear ducts are dry.

  Staring up at the white ceiling in the stark white room with the white floors and walls and bedding, and everything else, I allow the anger I feel in the pit of my belly to crawl through my veins. I savor the rage as it overtakes my agony. Buries it beneath a veil of false relief so I can take one single breath without feeling like my life is falling apart.

  And it is falling apart.

  I don’t know how long it’s been since I woke up to Theo at my bedside, a tube down my throat, the surgery, the shooting. Time means nothing to me right now. I do recall the sorrow when I died. Seeing Sam. His happiness.

  Everything comingled in those few seconds of relief until I saw the doctors working valiantly to bring me back to life. I’m still torn.

  Life.

  Death.

  Which is the one for me?

  For as long as I can remember, Theo has been the one consistent light in my life. Through all the hard moments I’ve suffered, he has been there for me. Now, my doubts are conspiring to convince me that he’s only here out of duty. That our stolen moments are nothing more than his loyalty to my brother.

  And that breaks my heart because I’ve never loved another like I do him. I never will.

  “You’re thinking too hard, kid.” Nix’s gravelly voice draws my eyes away from the ceiling tiles to where he is standing in the doorway with a gorgeous woman beside him. Her dark hair is as wild as her soft eyes. The bruises on her arms and neck cause me to frown.

  “What happened to her?” I croak out, my words barely discernable.

  Nix smirks, the hard lines of his face appearing relaxed. “Always one to worry about everyone else.” I notice he doesn’t answer my question. “How you feeling, Lo?” I shrug as they come closer. My gaze zooms in to the way my brother's companion holds onto his bulky arm like a lifeline. “Lola, this is Abriella Rhodes. Abs, my sister.” His voice softens when he speaks to her.

  “What happened?” I ask again.

  “My brother,” she whispers, “he tried to kill me.”

  “Nix saved you.” No doubt in my mind that's why she’s here.

  I don’t ask anything else because I know my brother will qualify any questions I have as need to know.

  “We came as soon as we landed, but it’s early, so we’re going to go. I’m sure that man of yours will be here soon, anyway.” He frowns at his mention of Theo, obviously not liking the reference to any man in my life.

  “Nice to meet you, Lola. I hope you feel better soon,” Abriella says. Her voice is lyrical, like she could sing everything she says, and it would be beautiful.

  “Wait. How long has it been?” If they landed not long ago, then it couldn’t have been more than a day since Charlie…

  “Not even twenty-four hours. Surgery was a little touch and go, but you're fine now, Lo. Just fucking stay that way for me, will you?” I know he’s joking to mask his worry, but I see real fear there as well.

  “I will, Nix.” Telling him what he wants to hear instead of voicing my concerns is easier on everyone.

  Silence, once again, surrounds me as they leave. I see doctors and nurses milling about, carrying on with their routines as the sun slowly begins to rise. It’s warm rays from the window bathe me in light.

  Life shines through with every passing beat, and all I can think about is death. Mine. My parents', Sam’s. Everyone I love dies, and now that I have Theo, my greatest love of all, I’m left to ponder whether I can survive it when he eventually leaves me too.

  Theo

  I don’t think I have slept at all. I lay here staring at the spot where Lola has taken up residence in my bed for the last week, and emptiness resonates through me. Lola, she’s more than some woman I love. She’s this other half of my soul that I can’t live without. Our connection defies all logic.

  I have spent half of my adult life being there for her when she's needed it, and when I felt the shift in our relationship, I did everything in my power to make sure I was never absent from her life, no matter how much it hurt to have her by my side while I quelled my feelings.

  Now, we are separated because I couldn’t protect her. And I feel that failure in the deepest recesses of my conscience. Logically, I know it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t keep her locked up just because she was grieving, and I couldn’t keep her locked up just because I’ve seen the worst in humanity, either.

  Lola needs to be able to live her life, but now, I’m questioning how she’s supposed to get past this betrayal? Because that’s exactly what it is. Charlie made a choice that day. He targeted her when he could have reached out for help. He killed three people, injured three more, and ultimately extinguished his life. He took a tremendous tragedy and turned it into his own selfish finale.

  He twisted Sam’s death into an ugly catastrophe that their parents now must live with.

  “Knock, knock.” My father’s voice penetrates my thoughts. “Your mother has created a feast; she’s expecting you.” He doesn’t even wait for me to acknowledge that I’m up before leaving again.

  I spent my childhood with the same wake-up calls. Reed and I had about five minutes before my mother would pack the food away and take it to a shelter. She’d then hand us day-old bread and kick us out the door to school. Mamá is a big proponent of paying it forward and took every chance she could to show us that the less fortunate meant as much to her as we did.

  Reed and I would spend every Sunday volunteering at various businesses to give back to a world that needed more humility. I give her all the credit for the man I've become because, without her, I’m not sure where I would have wound up.

  Crawling out of bed, I hit the head before rushing downstairs because I can smell her famous kagianas—scrambled eggs, roasted tomatoes, and feta cheese. She also adds chopped bacon that she fries in honey to sweeten it. It’s something only Mamá can cook and have it taste the same.

  “Morning,” I greet my parents as my dad hands me a cup of coffee. I already know it’s going to be stronger than I like, but I choke it down anyway.

  “Eat.” Mamá places a plate of food in front of me then puts a small bag of what I think is tsoureki, a sweet bread, next to it. “For Lola. She needs to keep up her strength, and this will do the trick. Better than any hospital food.”

  “Thanks,” I say as I shovel my breakfast into my mouth. She flicks my ear for talking with my mouth full, and I grin over at my father, who chuckles. After swallowing, I ask, “Will you come see her?” My mother can be odd at times. She’s here supporting me, and Lola doesn't have any parental figures, so I think her and my mother will hit it off.

  “Of course! Once she’s in her own room and I can bring her some things, we’ll be right over.” Some things. I should be worried because I get the feeling they will be things I might not want her to see, but I keep my mouth shut because I just want Lo to have the support she needs.

  Finished eating, I head back upstairs to get dressed. I realize Lola may not be awake yet, or they may not allow me to see her, but I’m going to be there. Until they force me to leave, I’ll remain by her side.

  Grabbing my keys, wallet, and phone from my dresser, I see a text from Nix saying they’ve landed, been to the hospital, and are now back at his apartment. Since I know Weston won’t sleep on anyone’s couch, I wonder who Nix has with him.

  “Don’t forget these,” my mother’s voice calls from the kitchen, shaking the bag of treats for Lola.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I kiss her cheek as I take the offering. “I’ll call later.” Out the door and on my way to the hospital, the contrast of the beautiful day and the suffering I’ve witnessed in the last twenty-four hours is astonishing. It should be pouring rain and storming. Not bright and sunny. Warm even.

  It reminds me of so many days spent overseas in war zones. Killing begins the day, a stunning sunset ends it. We learned quickly to appreciate the few beautiful moments Mother Nature afforded us, but right now, it just doesn’t feel right.

  The roads are clear this early in the morning, so my drive is short, and after I find parking and pay for the day, I head inside the building. After slowly making my way up to the ICU ward and going through screening at security, I’m surprised and slightly worried to find that Lola is awake.

  “Hey,” I greet her tentatively as her head rolls to the side, and her gaze lands on me. “What are you doing awake so early?” Placing the bag on the tray table, I take a seat on the side of her bed.

  “Couldn’t sleep,” she whispers. Her voice sounds dry.

  Looking around, I spy a glass of water on another table, just out of her reach. “They say anything about no food or drinking?” She shakes her head as I bring the cup over and place the straw to her chapped lips.

  Frowning, I’m not overly impressed with the way she’s being taken care of. I make a mental note to ask a few questions before they kick me out for the day.

  “Better?” She nods again. “My parents are here.” Her brows raise this time. “Mamá made some tsoureki for you.”

  “What is that?” She eyes the bag up.

  Dragging the table closer, I pull out the loaf of bread, break a small piece off, and hand it to her. “It’s sweet bread. Ma makes it whenever my brother and I are sick, injured, or worse. Cures the blues, she says.”

  Her faint smile at my explanation warms my heart as she takes her first small nibble. The delightful moan makes me think of other things, and I must clear my throat to get rid of them.

  I watch as Lola devours the Greek delicacy, licking the stickiness from her fingers as she finishes. When her eyes open and she stares up at me, the world shifts, and the anxiety I’ve been ignoring finally begins to dissipate.

  Lola is alive.

  She’ll heal.

  We’ll move forward. As slowly as she needs.

  When she seems to be getting tired, I suggest, “Get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Grasping her hand in mine, I draw soothing circles in her palm until her eyes drift shut again. Her body relaxes with much-needed rest.

  For the first time in my career, I find myself not looking forward to the next mission. I have zero desire to leave Lola’s side for more than the obvious reasons.

  In the last week, I’ve come to learn about the woman she has grown into. The one I helped mold into a caring human being. I’ve also witnessed her insecurities manifest. For every brave face she put on as we left on each mission over the years, there was a mask hiding the fear of a girl who only wanted her family.

  Us.

  Me, Nix, Ryder, West, and Foster have been all she’s had for so long that I never gave it a second thought as to how she must have felt with each deployment. And now that I am, reconciling that I will eventually have to leave her behind again is hard as hell.

 

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