Until you came (Series Stonebridge, #3) Read online

  Until you came

  Diana Scott

  Translated by Dayani Lopez

  “Until you came”

  Written By Diana Scott

  Copyright © 2018 Diana Scott

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Dayani Lopez

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  Until you came

  Diana Scott

  Published by Diana Scott

  Copyright 2015 Diana Scott

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Copyright Page

  Summary

  Forgiveness

  Not Anymore

  Wolves and lambs

  Rejected and sunk

  Confessions

  Tick-tock

  New friends

  I'm here to stay

  Three is a crowd

  For better or for worse

  And why not?

  Not everything goes

  With family

  Back to school

  Dangerous Friendships

  It isn’t gold

  The Dinner

  You, me, us.

  Lovers

  Two kisses

  You play, I play

  Same time, same place

  The great blow

  Run

  I have to go

  You don't hurt anymore.

  Half the truth, a lie.

  I've always waited for you

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Summary

  Forgiveness

  Not anymore

  Without me

  One more assault

  I need you

  Hidden truths

  To see you again

  Wolves and lambs

  Rejected and sunk

  Confessions

  Tick-tock

  New friends

  I'm here to stay.

  Innocent magic

  Stay away from me.

  Three is a crowd

  For better or for worse

  And why not?

  Not everything goes

  With family

  We go back to school

  Dangerous friendships

  It isn’t gold

  The dinner

  You, me, us

  Lovers

  Two kisses

  You play, I play

  At the same time, the same place

  The last night

  The big strike

  Run

  I have to go

  You don't hurt me anymore

  Half-truth, a lie.

  I always waited for you

  Epilogue

  Forgiveness

  I calmly walk down the long corridor of the luxurious private hospital. I fear the hands of the clock and its inflexible ticking that haunts me and doesn’t give me a break. The glowing and slippery marble floor shines excessively for nerves as altered as mine but, at this point, the survival of my knees didn’t matter if sacrificing them helped me to arrive on time.

  I have to get there whatever it takes. My heart beats as if I was a triathlete. I breathe half-short and the mascara slides down my cheeks but I keep running. With the corner of my eye, I read the indications on the walls. A huge sign with a big blue arrow tells me to keep walking to the end of the hallway. There it is! Intensive Care Unit, here I come.

  My coat drips like the gutter of an old house. I’m soaked to the bones and all thanks to the incomprehensible taxi driver who was not able to see how desperate I was. That son of a bitch refused to skip the damn red light. “Run if you want," said that fool. “Of course I'm going to run!” This is my sixth attempt to see him and I can't miss any opportunity, neither because of the hateful and inclement weather nor the stupid traffic rules. Come on! Stopping at a red light in such circumstances, can you believe it?

  Reed doesn't want to see me, but this time I'll get him even if I lose my knees in the attempt. I'm here because I love him and I won't run away defeated. Intensive Care Unit, straight ahead, great, keep running. I blow my dripping hair because it insists on sticking to my face. I cling to my bag and I push myself like Michael Phelps before jumping. Suraj assured that Reed would be just a few minutes in the Intensive Care Unit so that's where I'm running to.

  Oh God! And now which way do I take? Did I get lost? I raise my finger, nervous, analyzing the information poster and, for the first time in the day, luck is on my side. First elevator to the right, great! My day gets better with every second that goes by. The doors open right after I approach them. Yes! Today is my lucky day.

  I enter with determination and with my head held high, shaking my wet hair and with my hopes held high as well. But then some ladies, that seemed to be more in a rush than I was, decided to drag me to the bottom and push me against the mirror. The gentleman, who cleverly remained behind me, took pity on me and asked me gently.

  “What floor are you going to?”

  “Fourth floor, please," I answer aloud while being pushed against the wall like an advertising poster.

  The group of ladies, whose lives depend on going up and who are inclement regardless my protests, push as vehemently as if they were about to miss the five o'clock soap opera. My heels barely hold me in the middle of such a disaster; fortunately, the bottom wall of the elevator decides to help me and stop me; otherwise, I won't be able to tell it. If it were up to these distinguished ladies, my body would go through the bottom, the walls and beyond. I feel like uttering out loud a couple of swear words and claim my position as a swathed poster, but I am not in the mood for starting an argument. The air barely reaches my lungs and it’s already too difficult to raise my hand and fan myself to avoid losing consciousness.

  My nerves are going to explode, I've never risked as much as today. What if he refuses to see me? What can I do to make him accept me? In the past, I was the one who needed to keep distance but now everything has changed and Reed has to understand it.

  I want to be by his side, I want to be his support, I need him to understand my motives...

  “Din don, first floor”, the singing voice of the elevator informed like a kind lady.

  The door hasn’t finished opening when three people enter determined to find their place in the world, or rather, in this elevator. The ladies lift their bags in a desperate attempt to get air and I feel like my soaked ass is crushing against the mirror trying to survive.

  Ugh, I snort to control my anger. I've been with an absolute lack of will for days. The tiredness of not knowing where exactly I am standing gets me crazy, and now without looking for it, I am about to die crushed. God, don’t let me die trampled by ladies with hairstyles like helmets of the First World War. I'm just looking for a second chance. Self-esteem looks at me and counts on her fingers, “two, three...” All right, maybe a third or fourth chance. The number is not what matters!

  “Din don, second floor”, the elevator informed seconds before opening its doors to two more people who also pushed to enter.

  That makes nine of us! It's like no one knows how to read the maximum weight signs. And please... someone shut that baby up.

  “Excuse me, darling, would you make me a little place?” One of the old ladies who entered with me asked.

  “Ma'am, maybe if I stop breathing, I could do it”, my worst manners came to the surface.

  “What a temper...”

  I bow my head ashamed of myself. The poor woman is not to blame for my misfortunes. I even lost my good manners...

  “I'm very sorry,
but the truth is that I'm embedded like I was film poster.” The retired woman smiled amusingly and I thank her for forgiving me with another smile.

  “Don’t worry, dear, I understand perfectly. We all have the right to have a bad day, and even more if we are in a hospital. I'm going to the fourth floor, and you?

  “So do I”, I replied sharply.

  “Good manners and apologizing are one thing, but from there to establishing a close friendship, that's too much to ask for broken nerves as mine.

  “Do you have a family member in here?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Don't worry, there's always a sunny horizon behind the clouds.”

  “If you say so...”

  “Of course I say so!”

  “Din don, third floor.”

  “No, you can't get in. There’s no space for anyone else!” The little boy near the door tries to defend that argument but it's useless, three other ladies come in blowing their purses, ready to risk their lives in front of the enemy.

  I should have used the stairs... I’ll either be out of here soon or I'll become a stuffing for village chorizo.

  “Ladies, please, you're taking my breath away," I angrily yelled at the last group of daredevils.

  “Well, young lady, then give me a place.”

  “You shouldn't have got in!” I answered while placing my eyes on the one that spoke.

  The three old ladies looked at with rage and I think that by their bulldog faces and their identical eyes of wart witches that they must be sisters and twins.

  “As I told you before, you must never give up hope...”

  “ What?”

  Oh, Lord, the self-help speech of my new companion still continues.

  “I almost lost my Alfred three times, but here we are still, sixty years together looking at the horizon.”

  “Alfred?” Who is she talking about? The horizon?

  The gentleman of barely sixty feet tall, bald and wearing a perfect gray suit from the fifties, stood straight beside her and tilts his head in a greeting.

  “My Alfred and I have been together for sixty years and another sixty years are waiting for us to be lived," she says smiling and waiting for the confirmation from his Alfred.

  “That's right, my dear," he says resignedly.

  I smile unexpectedly. The man answers were apparently conformist, and I would have thought he was a poor, submissive husband if it weren't for the fact that when he raised his eyes his eyes, they sparkled with fun.

  “You are still very young, but time will show you that love always wins. Am I right, Alfred?”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  “See? Alfred thinks the same. You mustn't give up on hope. Your man will come out of intensive care.”

  “My man? “

  “Yes, my dear. You look like you’re lovesick. Don't worry, everything will be fine.”

  My man? She's wrong, I'm going to the fourth floor where my man's beloved wife is, but that's a way too complicated story for a short elevator ride.

  “Din don, fourth floor.”

  “I'm getting off! I'm getting off!” I'm shouted desperately. “Excuse me, please!”

  I try to get to the door, but I can’t make it. I try to push but nothing. We're like a tin of sardines, but without liquid, because the oil couldn’t even fit here anymore.

  “Please hold the door. Don't let it close... don't...” Two more people try to get in despite the desperate screams of those inside.

  “I will never get out of here... “

  I will miss my chance to see him again. He'll recover, he'll go with another woman, they'll be happy and they'll eat partridges and chocolate cake...” I sob hopeless.

  “Not at all. Like my name is Clotilde, you’ll get to your love. Come on! Let’s make room for this poor child! Come on! Love awaits us!

  My new friend's cries have an effect. Well that and the elbow she decided to use as a sardine separator. The ladies in front of us grumble annoyed and give me a vindictive look. It’s like they are saying "you’ll pay for this". But I’m not afraid of them; in fact, I gave them a big smile while I cover myself behind the body of my new friend. I'm brave but not that brave.

  “Come on, darling, go now. Here you have a little space to move.”

  I take air and push forward like a rugby player before scoring a try, but nothing results. I try again and again but the road is blocked. The doors close and my horrified eyes refuse to accept it.

  “Why does everything go wrong for me? I just want to go down...”

  The evil witches smile in a sign of victory. They took it on me.

  “Honey, don't worry, on the next floor you’ll come down or my name is not Clotilde.”

  “You haven't been able to go down either...” I say to her as I pull away the wet hairs that stick to my face like shrimp moustaches.

  “It doesn't matter, you just get ready and when you see the sign escape from here without looking back.”

  “A sign?”

  The bulldog witches looked at us narrowing their eyes, waiting to guess our movements, but my protector is not afraid of them. Clotilde looks for her Alfred who nods with a gentle eyelid drop. I'm afraid I was wrong to judge him, these two are just a nursing house version of Bonnie and Clyde.

  “Din don, fifth floor.”

  I was about to ask permission to get to the door when a cane raised high and, like Moses in Sinai, my guardian managed to scare the evil ones who, frightened, decided to move without arguing. And there was the sign: Alfred quickly got in the way, leaving a path free and totally ready for us. I walk first and my reckless warrior lowers her staff and walks determinedly behind me.

  “Ladies, this is where I get off," she says in the voice of a sweet little old woman as she saw the snakes throwing poison through their mouths while the doors were closing.

  “Thank you very much, Clotilde, I owe you one. I'm going down the stairs, I have to run down a floor before it's too late”, I scream as I walk rapidly.

  “Don't worry about us. My Alfred and I will go down a little slower," she smiles, winking at me. “Good luck and remember that there is always a sunny horizon behind the clouds!”

  Clouds? I think the second universal deluge awaits me, but it doesn't matter when you're wet to your bones. And I don't mean it only in a metaphorical sense, I drip water from all sides. However, time to run because in war anything goes.

  The time has come to get him back because where there was fire, hidden ashes remain. Self-esteem squeezes her chin thoughtful. Did I say it right? Weren't they hidden? Or were they just ashes? Come on, there’s no time for absurd sayings. Self-esteem shakes her head in confusion and I have fun while I run like the wind.

  I slip up and almost carved my face in the marble, but it doesn't matter, I keep going on. What the hell! High heels off. I jump on one foot and then on the other to take off my shoes. To extreme situations there are extreme solutions. This time, I intend to play the whole, and the world better get ready because I’m willing to do whatever it takes.

  Not Anymore

  “You look awful and your pockets are dripping.”

  “I love you to”, I answered with an unfriendly voice.

  “Why are your shoes in your hand? You look like the filthy version of the Little Mermaid.

  “And if I kick your balls until they bleed, who would you look like?”

  “Hey, hey, too much aggressiveness...”

  “Just tell me that not having killed an irrational taxi driver, not having undressed me because of unpolluted floors or surviving the killer elevator was worth it.”

  “Did you have a good day?”

  “Suraj!”

  “All right, all right," he raised his arms in defeat as he smiles shamelessly. “You look so much like her that I can't help it.”

  “Do I look like who? Cut the crap and tell me if I'm on time or not.”

  “If what you're asking is if my friend is inside and I'm betraying him by bringi
ng you in without his consent, then the answer is yes.”

  “He still doesn't want to see me... “

  My disappointment is clear in my voice.

  “Rotunda and vehemently.”

  “But why!”

  I crawl my wet hair with my fingers so that it doesn't stick to me while I puff annoyed. I'm just trying to support him. Is it so difficult to receive a little comfort from those who love you?

  “That's exactly the problem. He doesn't want your compassion.”

  “Compassion? But what the hell are you talking about? I know Reed too well to pity him. I wouldn't think of anything like that. I love him and I can't stand not being able to be with him.”

  “Anne, you must know that Reed has changed since you left.”

  “Of course he's changed, he's in a hospital and he can't move his legs. I think I know perfectly well how changed he is. Suraj, you are not very well... “ I touch his forehead to confirm that stupidity doesn't come from high fevers.

  “I’m not talking about the accident”, he shakes his head to keep my hand away. “You'll see, your departure to Italy didn't do him any good and I'm afraid his character became sourer than what’s bearable.

  “More than it was?

  “To put it mildly: he is an authentic ogre. Before he wasn't the prototype of a charming man, but now he doesn't even bother to pretend he is. When you left, he locked himself in his own darkness.

  “Revenge... “

  “Yes.”

  “And you're not going to tell me against whom or why.”

  “I can't.”

  “But I think it has something to do with his father. Just answer me this. Is his father's ghost still chasing him?

  Suraj picks up his backpack as a sign that he's leaving, but I'm not willing to let my prey go. Someone has to give me information and his best friend is the right candidate.

  “Please, I know he's hiding something from me, what is it? What is he afraid of?”

  “Fear?” He smiled openly. “That man is not even afraid of death. No, that's not it.”

  “His father marked him with something more than lashes...”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “Yes, and that's why I think that if you help me, we can both free him from that stupid thirst for revenge.”