Broken, page 16
“I remember this,” he said, taking the photograph from her. “Wow...we look so young.”
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” she commented, leaning over to look closer. “Do you remember what song this was?”
“Every Breath You Take.”
“Oh, a song about a stalker. Nice.”
Lorenzo laughed softly. “I think we were oblivious to it at the time.”
“I was oblivious to everything around me but you.”
He turned his face towards hers, his breath hot on her cheek. “I loved that about you.”
“That I was clueless?”
“That you saw me for me.”
When she turned her face towards his, their foreheads almost touching, she lost herself in the depths of his dark eyes. “I always did,” she said. “Though you have to admit, I was lacking in that department, too. How could I not have known?”
“Because I didn’t let you.” His voice was soft now, as soft as the look in his eyes which he turned from her penetrating gaze. “What about these?”
They were through the stack of photos from Judith, their intermittent laughter throughout helping to ease the tension she felt about opening the other photos.
The ones they had taken.
“I haven’t seen them,” she admitted. “I don’t even know if they turned out.”
He picked up the first envelope and pried open where it had been glued shut. “Damn, you really haven’t opened them.”
“What, did you think I was lying?”
“Nope, just trying to ease the tension.” He glanced over at her. “You seem nervous.”
“There’s a lot of memories in there.”
“I know.”
The silence stretched, broken only when Lorenzo removed the photos.
“Shall we?”
Her smile was small but soft. “Okay.”
“A ha,” he said, looking at the first photos. “Pre-prom. How many pictures did your parents take?”
“Plenty,” she laughed.
“You always wanted the memories.”
“Yes, I did. Oh...Justin acting up and Judith giving him the evil eye.”
“You should give this one to them,” Lorenzo said with a laugh. “Oh...”
The next one was the two of them standing side by side and gazing at one another rather than the camera. His blue bow tie and cummerbund were the same color as her dress, a beautiful sky blue that had her gray eyes glowing as they looked up at him.
“I remember this.” His voice was full of emotion. “I remember everything about this. Your mother took this picture. Your father kept telling us to look at the camera, but we didn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, Trina. You were absolutely stunning that night.” He paused for a moment, his glance never leaving the photo. “You always are, by the way.”
“Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft. She was afraid to let him know that he was also stunning, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable as that’s what he’d been told so often by those who took advantage of their places of power over him. Instead, she put her head on his shoulder, her eyes also on the photograph, the scent of him surrounding her.
They flipped through the photographs, immersed in memories together. Lorenzo would always know the song, who took the photograph, what came next.
The next folder, though, had them both staring at it as it sat unopened. “Are you ready?” he finally asked. She inhaled deeply and let it out with a sigh.
“Yes.”
These were photos they’d taken after prom, when they’d made their way to the hillside on the Torrence estate. The first was of Lorenzo, tie discarded, first button of his shirt undone as he laid back, his head on his jacket, and looked at the stars.
“I love this,” she said softly.
“I was so torn.”
“About?”
“Because I knew I was leaving soon. I didn’t know how soon, just that I was. Even if it had just been through graduation, because then their obligation would be fulfilled. I would be out of the system.”
“You wanted to leave.”
“Yes and no.”
“Why no?”
He flipped to the next picture, one where they’d turned the camera on themselves as they laid in the field, the flash providing plenty of light as they smiled up into the lens.
“That’s why.” He leaned his head against hers. “That’s why.”
They looked through the rest of the photos in silence. Many were of them kissing, smiling at one another, or at the camera. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the one he’d taken of her looking down at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair in disarray.
It was after that photo that they’d set the camera aside and had made love—first with caution, and then with abandon—beneath the night sky, the stars moving as the hours passed.
Then he flipped to the last picture.
He was shirtless.
She was wearing his tuxedo jacket, her bare shoulder exposed.
Their smiles in this photograph were softer, contented.
Lorenzo lifted his head, shifting as he put the stack of photos on the coffee table, and Katrina sat up as well.
“I have to go.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, her heart pounding, remembering how he’d said those very words to her that night.
Remembering how he’d disappeared after.
“I have to,” was all he said now as he stood and walked slowly towards the door.
“Ren?” She stood as well as he turned back towards her. “Thank you. Tonight was...nice. Very nice.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yes, it was.”
She moved towards him, but he took a step back, so she stayed standing there, several feet between them. “Are you all right?”
He swallowed, his eyes holding the slightest hint of pain. “I have to go,” he repeated.
“I understand,” she said softly. “Please know you’re safe with me.”
“Trina?”
“Yeah?”
“That was it, you know? The only night that ever meant anything to me.”
Tears touched her eyes. Sure, she’d been with Timothy, but it had never been the same. He’d never taken her to heights unknown, never whispered his words of adoration, never touched her with the same reverence that Ren had.
“Same,” she replied, and she saw a hint of a smile on his face as he reached for the doorknob behind him.
“Goodnight, Trina.”
“Goodnight, Ren. Be safe.”
One last smile from him, and he was gone.
CHAPTER 27
Katrina wasn’t the least bit surprised at the knock on her door early the next morning. She knew that Justin would show up, ready and waiting for her to spill on her date with Lorenzo, unwilling to wait until she’d had her coffee and was ready to call. She was smiling to herself as she closed her robe and secured it with a tie.
“Just a sec,” she called out as she made her way to the front door, unlocking its deadbolt and the lock on the knob itself before opening.
And there she saw Lorenzo, leather jacket open revealing his white t-shirt, faded jeans with holes in them, and his riding boots.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice ragged, his stubble grown in a little more than it had been the night before.
“I tossed and turned,” she replied, stepping aside so that he could enter. “Are you all right?”
“No. I mean, yeah, but...no.” He slipped out of the leather jacket, and she held her hand out.
“I can hang that up.”
“Thank you.”
She chanced a glance over her shoulder at him as she hung his coat in the closet, noting the way the t-shirt hugged his body, but also the tension in his shoulders. “I was about to start some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Hmm? Oh...yeah. Yeah, that would be great.”
She walked past him to get to the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. “I could make you some breakfast.”
“You don’t have to.”
“What, you haven’t missed my scrambled eggs?”
“I’ve missed everything about you, Trina.”
She paused, refrigerator door open, to look at him and found his eyes sad. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said. He nodded and turned to where she could no longer read his expression, and she pulled the coffee along with some eggs out of the fridge.
“I rode last night. My bike, I mean. I just took her out in the country and rode,” he said, his eyes looking everywhere but at her. “I just kept asking myself...what the hell am I doing, you know?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t know.”
He continued on as she prepped the coffee maker. “I’m just like this overgrown kid who has a bar and does some construction on the side. Hell, I pummel people in a makeshift ring just so I can feel a little bit better. What am I doing, thinking I should disrupt this little girl’s life?”
“She’s yours,” Katrina said. “It’s the right thing to do.”
He began to pace. “I mean, is it? She’s going to learn the truth, and I mean the ugly truth because I can’t tell her that I loved her mother. I can’t even tell her that I liked her a little bit. I can tell you that she was a conniving, manipulative, power-abusing bitch, but how do I say that to her daughter?”
“That might be a question for your therapist,” Katrina suggested, and he shrugged.
“And that’s another thing. I’m in therapy to keep from losing what’s left of my mind. They’re going to use that shit against me, Trina, I know they will.”
“What about the fact that he’s not her father? What about the fact that he couldn’t even see what was happening?”
And Lorenzo went still.
“What?” she asked, cracking eggs in a bowl and putting the shells aside. “You can’t possibly tell me that he knew and did nothing.”
“He said he’d figured it out,” Lorenzo said quietly, his eyes still downcast.
“Was it when the baby was born and she was the spitting image of you?”
“She is. Emily showed me a picture. She sent it to me. It’s her 3rd grade picture, and I just...I couldn’t get past it. But now...”
“Now what?” she asked when his voice trailed off.
“What if she wants nothing to do with me?”
Katrina stopped whisking the eggs and set the bowl down. “C’mere.”
He shook his head.
“And exactly why not?” she asked, her tone teasing.
Until his eyes met hers.
“Ren, it’s okay to have all of these questions, you know. And they’re perfectly legitimate. Soon you’re going to have that physical proof in your hand that she’s yours, and what you choose to do then is entirely up to you. Do you want to see your daughter? Would you rather her grow up in the same environment that produced Emily?”
“Wasn’t she your best friend?”
“I thought so, yes.” She pulled a pan out and set it on a burner, heating it up. “But the longer she’s gone again, the more I see that I was merely someone to use. Maybe she thought that if you reached out to me, she would be there to make sure we didn’t speak. I honestly don’t know what her motives were, or are, for that matter.”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Katrina glanced over her shoulder to see him now sitting on a stool at her small kitchen island, head in his hands, elbows resting on the island. “I wish I could tell you that there’s an easy answer to all of this.”
“I’m not asking you for answers, Trina,” he said, his head still bowed. “I just needed a friend.”
Her heart constricted in her chest at his words. “You have one,” she said as she added the beaten eggs to the frying pan, its sizzling permeating the air. “One so awesome she’s making you breakfast.”
“You are, you know that?” He lifted his head, his tired eyes soft. “Awesome.”
She smiled at him just as another knock sounded at her door. “And that would be another friend.”
“Expecting someone?” he asked.
“I’m expecting that to be my brother wanting all of the details. Could you be a doll and answer the door?”
“Yeah...yeah, I can.”
Katrina continued her magic on the eggs and heard from the living room, “Cade, man, you look like shit. I don’t wanna know, I don’t want to know.”
Justin had arrived, bright eyed and cheery as he walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, you,” she said to him. “Want some eggs?”
“I’ll trade you an everything bagel for some. Oh, awesome, you made coffee. Now, seriously...” He turned to Lorenzo. “What the hell are you doing answering my sister’s door at this ungodly hour?”
“If it’s so ungodly, then why are you here with bagels?” Katrina asked.
“Because that’s what I do. And I totally lied, I do want to know how last night went. Sort of. Unless there are details that brothers should not know.”
“I just got here,” Lorenzo told him.
“Aren’t you a little late? I thought it was a dinner date. Bagel?”
“Thanks,” she heard Lorenzo say.
“It was, nosey,” Katrina said. “Can you get the plates for me, Justin?”
“Man, is this ever bringing back memories,” Justin said as he retrieved the plates for her.
Yes, Katrina agreed silently. Yes, it was.
***
“Trina’s making her magic eggs,” Justin said to Lorenzo as he walked into the kitchen the Saturday morning after the big game Friday night. Their team had won, but Lorenzo hadn’t been able to spend the night.
“They’re hardly magic,” Katrina disagreed, smiling as Lorenzo kissed her cheek.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“And hello to you.” She kissed his lips softly. “We missed you last night.”
“Hi, Cade,” Debra said as she wandered into the kitchen. Katrina had several members of the cheer squad spend the night, and one by one they entered the kitchen area.
“Hey,” Lorenzo said in Debra’s direction, and Katrina had no doubt that Debra would be giddy that he’d even acknowledged her existence.
“Sleep well?” Katrina asked him, and he shook his head. “I made some coffee, if you’d like some.”
“You drink coffee?” another of the girls asked. “Isn’t that an old person’s drink?”
“Let’s say it is so I can drink the pot,” Mrs. Carter said as she entered the kitchen. “Goodness, that smells good, Trina. Did you have enough eggs?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good, good. Oh, good morning, Lorenzo. So glad you could join us.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Carter,” Lorenzo replied, turning his charm on. “You look lovely.”
“You’re still not taking my daughter out on that deathtrap that you call a motorcycle, but it’s sweet of you to say.” She reached up and patted his cheek as he chuckled softly.
“It was worth a try.”
“You’ll relent someday,” Katrina called out to her as she left the room and heard her laugh.
“Someday I’ll take you for that ride,” Lorenzo said softly, and Katrina leaned in for another kiss.
“You can count on it.”
***
“Damn, breakfast was good,” Justin said as he sat back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “Is that your bike out front?”
“Yeah,” Lorenzo answered.
“It’s sick, man. I bet she handles like a dream.”
“She?” Katrina asked. “Why she?”
“It depends on the ride, but she’s definitely a she,” Lorenzo said. “Some days she’s just what I need.”
“And others you beat the shit out of people.”
“Precisely.”
“Okay, boys,” Katrina said as she tore another piece off her everything bagel. “How about we at least keep the subject on what’s legal.”
“How about Mom’s not here to tell you that you can’t get on a deathtrap,” Justin suggested, and Lorenzo’s eyebrows raised as he looked at Katrina, who was poised to take a bite and stopped.
“What?”
“The bike,” Lorenzo said to her. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m sitting in a bathrobe consuming breakfast.” She took the bite then to keep herself from grinning when Lorenzo’s mouth twitched up into a smile.
“You’re afraid.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m unprepared. There’s a difference.”
“She’s never been on one,” Justin explained. “She won’t even ride with me.”
“You ride?” Lorenzo asked him.
“Yeah. She’s not as sweet as yours, but she’s all mine. We could go riding sometime.”
“I’d like that, yeah. But, Trina...c’mon.” Lorenzo returned his attention to her. “Not even one ride around the block? I’ll wait for you to get dressed.”
“Oh, fine.” She put her bagel down and stood. “Just around the block. Will that satisfy you?”
“Hardly,” he drawled back. “But it’s a start.”
“Oh, it’s so on.” Justin pulled his phone out. “I’ve got about 30 percent battery but I need to get proof of Trina on the back of a bike.”
“You two are hilarious,” she muttered before walking out of the kitchen and back towards her bedroom.
One ride.
One tiny ride around the block.
Holding onto Lorenzo.
She stood in her bedroom and inhaled sharply. “I can do this.”
“What’s that?” she heard her brother call from the hallway.
“Nothing. Go bug Ren,” she called back before pulling fresh clothing out of her closet to wear. Jeans, a long sleeved form fitted black shirt, and...
What shoes should she wear?
“Hey, Ren?” she said loudly.
“Your tennis shoes will be fine,” she heard him say and had to smile.
It was just like it used to be.
But then her smile fell.
Because things would never be as simple as they had been back when they were teenagers.
And part of the reason why had been conceived when they were dating.
“Shut up,” she muttered out loud, hoping her brain would listen.
