Broken, page 6
Once up to the area of executive offices, she rounded the corner to the large suite on the right-hand side of the hallway. Knowing she’d be seeing Emily’s secretary first, Katrina pasted on a smile before entering the suite.
“Hello, Ms. Carter,” Sally said from her perch at her desk. “Have a seat, I will let Ms. Torrence know you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Katrina replied, taking a seat on a plush couch in the waiting area. She watched as Sally’s smile tightened at whatever line Emily was giving her and knew her trip downtown had been for nothing.
“I’m so sorry but she’s swamped today,” Sally said to Katrina, who stood and inhaled sharply.
“That’s fine; I’m rather busy myself. Mind if I leave a note?”
“Oh, of course.”
“Thank you,” Katrina murmured. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out the note she’d had prepared, just in case.
I know the truth was all it said.
She handed the envelope to Sally, who was nervously talking about how fun the trip the two women had planned was going to be, as soon as Emily could tie up a few loose ends.
“Could you see that she gets this? When she’s not busy, of course.”
“Of course.”
***
Katrina stood outside of Lorenzo’s hospital room, her heart hammering in her chest. She could do this. She could return his belongings and walk out the door, get back to her job, get back to her life.
Get back to Timothy.
The thought of Timothy dimmed in comparison to the feelings she had about walking through the door, dealing with Lorenzo who was awake and flipping through television channels.
He’d always done that when he was bored.
She squared her shoulders and held her head high before knocking twice on the door, his voice calling out to her, smooth as butter, to come on in.
He was sitting up in bed, the remote in his hand, his hair disheveled but clean, his bruised face beginning to heal. He swallowed as she entered carrying a bag with his things.
This was it.
She was there to say goodbye to him.
“Trina.”
It was like he breathed her name.
The way he used to.
“Hello, Ren,” she managed, keeping her tone as light as possible. “They’d given your things to me, since you’d told them I was your emergency contact.” She held the bag up. “Good as new.”
“Great!” His smile reached his eyes.
It shot straight through her.
“Is my phone in there?” he asked, and she grimaced.
“Okay, not everything is good as new.” She placed the bag on the ground and pulled his phone out, the shattered mess that it was.
“Ah, damn.” His smile had faded, and he took the phone from her, careful to not cut his fingers on the broken glass. “Guess I need a new one of these.”
“Yeah, well, I managed to get most of the blood out of your clothing. Some more peroxide should do the trick.”
“You washed my clothes?” One corner of his mouth lifted.
Her stupid heart responded by skipping the slightest of beats.
“Well, I didn’t want to give them back to you the way they were.”
“I appreciate it.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Katrina did her best to avoid looking into his eyes. What if he remembered her holding his hand? What if he remembered her kisses that she never should have done but had been second nature? What if...
“Please, sit.”
She nodded once and sank into the chair, damning her racing heart and her palms that had begun to sweat.
“How are you?”
“How am I?” Her eyes met his finally. “You disappear from my life for years and you want to know how I am?”
“Yes.”
She crossed her arms as she inhaled sharply. “Fine.”
“Fine as in you’re fine, or fine as in you’ll tell me how you really are?”
“I’m angry, okay?” She muttered a curse as tears threatened to surface. “I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m confused.”
“I understand.”
“And would you stop being so nice to me? Please?”
“I can’t help it.”
She turned her head away from him to hide the one lone tear that fell. Brushing it away, she faced him once more. “What were you doing on Willow Creek Road?”
His face paled and his eyes clouded over. “It’s complicated,” was all he said.
“Complicated. How’s this for complicated? You told me you loved me, you said that this is what it was supposed to be like, and then you left. You just left, and damn it, I want answers. I don’t want small talk. Fuck small talk.”
“Trina—”
“And fuck you while we’re at it.”
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve much more than that, believe me.” Hot tears spilled down her face and she found herself unable to stop them.
It was Lorenzo’s turn to inhale sharply. “Trina, please don’t cry. Fuck, please don’t.”
“And why the hell not? Does it make you feel guilty? You know what? Good. You should feel guilty.”
“I do.”
“You shattered my heart. You broke me, Ren. And now you’re sitting here in a hospital bed asking me how I’m doing as if you didn’t shatter me into a million pieces that I still haven’t found all the parts of.”
His eyes slid shut and his head bowed slightly. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were dark.
Sad.
“I deserve all of this.”
“And more, but I’m not about to kick you in your balls while you’re laid up in a hospital.”
One small laugh left him.
“Oh, fuck you, this is not funny.”
And another.
“Damn it, Ren, I said this is not funny.”
As her voice rose, so did his eyebrows, and a half grin was on his face.
“Oh, I hate you,” she said as she hid her face from him unwilling to show her expression.
The one that was smiling now.
The one that would always collapse in a fit of giggles after she’d lost her temper.
Only because he would bring out that side of her.
“Please don’t.”
His words stopped her cold. “Don’t what?” she asked, turning back to him, tears still clinging to her lashes.
“Don’t hate me, Trina. You promised you never would.”
“Yeah, well, you promised a bunch of shit yourself.”
His eyes dropped as he nodded once, acknowledging the hurt he’d caused.
That was enough to start her tears again.
“I have to go,” she mumbled, fumbling with her keys as she stood.
“No, Trina, wait.” The urgency in his voice made her pause and look at him once more. “Please...please stay. Give me all kinds of hell, tell me what a horrible person I am. I know because I’ve had to live with it every day. Someday I’ll tell you what happened, but not today. Please not today.”
“Why do you want me here?” she asked, then remembered.
***
“No.” Lorenzo was shaking his head despite Katrina’s insistence.
“Ren, your wrist might be broken.”
“It’s just a sprain.”
“You don’t know that. You fell from pretty high up.”
“I’ll just ice it, use an ace bandage.”
“Ren—”
“No hospitals, okay?” He paced the patch of grass before him, holding his wrist close to his chest. “No hospitals.”
“Why not?”
“Trina, you don’t understand.”
“Make me understand, then.”
“That was the last place I saw my mom, okay? She was sick, and they took me from her because there was no one else to take care of me at home. She never made it out of there. I was six years old, Trina. Six years old and my entire life was taken from me. No hospitals, okay? No hospitals.”
***
“I’m sorry,” she said as the memory washed over her. “I’m... yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”
He reached out and touched her arm.
His touch burned.
“Thank you.”
“Yeah,” she lied, “no problem.”
CHAPTER 10
Lorenzo had gotten permission to use one of Mr. Torrence’s cars—not just any car, his favorite BMW—to take Katrina out on their official first date. Katrina was a bundle of nerves as she waited for him, unsurprised that Emily had failed to text her back when she wanted to relay her excitement.
Wasn’t she supposed to be one of Katrina’s best friends?
It seemed that friendship had waned the closer that Katrina and Lorenzo became. Add Justin into the mix, and Emily was all but fuming at the last 4th of July bash. Now here they all were about to begin their junior year of high school, thoughts of futures in their heads.
But Katrina wasn’t focused on the future.
She was focused on the now as she fidgeted with the hemline of her dress. It went past her fingertips, per her father’s rule, but only if she pulled it down.
She knew exactly what their night would entail. Dinner at the club that Mr. Torrence had assured Lorenzo they’d be welcomed in, perhaps a dance or two before heading off to the theatre to see the latest show that had traveled to their town. Lorenzo had never been to the theatre. He’d done all of this for her because he’d known exactly what she would love to do.
And she loved that about him.
She smiled as he arrived, in a suitcoat that had been tailored to fit around his cast. She’d been right; his wrist was broken. And he’d been like a scared little boy in the ER, grasping onto her hand with his good one, never wanting to let go even when they insisted he had to for his X-ray.
He stood before her today with a lopsided grin as he walked up to her front door, his hair in perfect disarray.
“Are you able to drive with your cast?” her father asked as he suddenly appeared behind her.
“Well enough, sir,” Lorenzo had answered.
Sir.
That was going to make her father pleased.
“Dude, look at you,” Justin teased as he walked up, football in hand. “Coach is still pissed that you have to miss most of the season.”
Lorenzo shrugged. “I’ll heal.”
“Don’t you need a jacket?” her father asked her, and she turned to him with a quizzical look on her face. It was a balmy late summer evening. “Okay, fine. Be home by 11 sharp.”
“Eleven thirty,” she corrected him. “Just in case the traffic is bad after the show.”
“Fine, but no later. And you’ll walk her to the door after,” her father said to Lorenzo.
“Of course, I will, sir.”
Their drive down Willow Creek Road was in near silence, only the low sounds of the radio as they exchanged shy glances at one another. It was official: they were on their first date.
“You look beautiful,” he finally said as he took the turn onto Main Street, still further out into the country with only a few houses dotting the landscape.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “You look quite handsome yourself.”
***
His hair looked almost the same, but his features had matured. Had she thought him merely handsome before—though she didn’t; he’d always been gorgeous—those qualities had filled in nicely. His lips were full, his cheekbones high, his nose though bruised was perfect. His eyelashes were long and dark and laid across his cheeks as he slept, leaving Katrina to watch over him with her promise that she wouldn’t leave.
At that moment, she was damning her hands for wanting to reach out and smooth his hair back, or worse, to hold his hand in hers. There was nothing much for her to do but relive their memories, such as their first date, the first time he’d led her to a dance floor and taken her into his arms to sway to the music. They’d skipped their school dances in lieu of just going out, the trio of them, and having fun.
That night there was no trio.
***
“Why do we skip all the dances when you obviously know how?” she asked, and he grinned down at her.
“Ah, Trina, the fun we’ve had while skipping the formal wear and everyone staring was always enough for me. Wasn’t it for you?”
“I think we should go to the dances this year.” She smiled as he spun her and pulled her back up against his body. “Is that a yes, Ren?”
“That’s a maybe,” he whispered into her ear sending chills down her spine. He always did this to her, making her in need of catching her breath. “We still need to get you to the theatre.”
“Get us there, you mean. I think you’ll love it.”
“I love the company, so...”
Her smile up at him was warm, radiant, as her heart skipped the tiniest of beats. “Do you?”
He rested his forehead against hers as they swayed to the music the band was playing. “God, yes,” he breathed before his lips captured hers.
***
Lorenzo woke with a start, startling Katrina as well. One glance to his right, seeing her, and he seemed to calm. “You’re still here.”
“I told you that I would stay.”
“I do appreciate it. I wish Martin would get here.”
“Ouch, thanks, Ren.”
“No, no, it’s not like that.” He shifted a little and winced. “He has access to my accounts and can get me a new phone. He already brought me my laptop.”
“Which was how you sent the friend requests.” She worded it more like a statement and wasn’t surprised when he nodded. “What made you decide to do that now?”
He was silent, his eyes fixated on the still-droning television that had failed to keep Katrina’s attention. “I wanted to,” he finally said.
She swallowed over the lump forming in her throat, the one that made her want to weep for a love lost. Instead, she forced a smile. “Good.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah. Good.”
***
“I really don’t do fancy,” Lorenzo was saying as they walked hand-in-hand from the parking garage toward the theatre. Their seats were in the loge, nearly in the center, as Mr. Torrence had given their night’s tickets to him. “I’m more of a jeans and an old pickup truck kind of guy.”
“And country music?” she teased.
“No, I’ll stick to 90’s grunge.”
“A man after my own heart.”
“Thank you; I try.”
“Everyone is so fixated on futures,” she commented. “What about you? Aside from the jeans and old pickup truck.”
“I’m going to own a dive bar. Just a place where everyone can get away from their troubles. Maybe have a band or two in there sometimes, but mostly just a jukebox and whiskey.”
“With 90’s grunge music?”
“And some classic rock. Got to throw that in there.”
“Oh, of course. Thank you,” she added as he held open the door for her. “And what will you call this dive bar of yours?”
“Cade’s.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep; that’s it.”
“No ‘Bar and Grill’ after?”
He paused for a moment and looked down at her. “Maybe,” he replied.
“What, you don’t like my idea?”
“I do. I just like to do things my way.”
She smiled up at him. “So I see.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“I like your way.” They stood in line where one of the theatre helpers was telling people which door to enter. Lorenzo took out the tickets and looked down at them.
“Even if my way isn’t like tonight?”
“Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just...I don’t want to disappoint you, Trina. Like when our next date is burgers and a movie.”
She held his hand a little tighter, her smile radiating throughout her body. “Next date?”
“How about we agree that everything that doesn’t include Justin is a date?”
“Agreed.”
***
The memory stung Katrina, and as she looked around the room, trying to keep her gaze from settling on Lorenzo, she wondered if this counted, too.
The way they’d made their pact on that first official date.
But they weren’t dating anymore, and in fact, barely knew one another. She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t bring up the millions of questions that she’d promised him she wouldn’t ask this day.
“So... Cade’s.” She shifted and forced a smile as she looked at him. “I see you followed your dream. Although I’m sure your pickup truck is a little worse for wear.”
“I wasn’t in a truck, or I wouldn’t look like this,” he replied, that half-grin of his wearing on her already frayed nerves. “You went there. What did you think?”
“I think people definitely go there to forget their troubles.”
“You think it’s horrible.” He was grinning as he said this, his eyes holding hers captive.
“I think the sticky carpet could be replaced.”
“True.”
“And that you need a new sign.”
He let out one short laugh. “Also true.”
“And that it should be Cade’s Bar and Grill. It could be a little more inviting and could probably improve your profit margin.”
His silence only lasted a beat. “That was your idea from the beginning.”
“So that’s why you didn’t go for it.”
“It hurt too much.”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears and she looked away from him.
“I see you’re still a theatre girl,” he added, letting her know he’d perused her Facebook profile.
“I see you think I’m not good enough for your world with your dreams.”
“No! No, Trina, it’s...I wasn’t good enough for you.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
“You, all of you, had these brilliant futures ahead of you. I was still a foster kid who was kicked out of the system when I turned 18. I didn’t have college in my future, or my parents’ money.”
“I have not lived off my parents’ money since I moved out on my own, thank you very much.”
“I wasn’t talking about you.”
Of course, he wasn’t.
He was talking about Emily.
