Erin Kern - Along Came Trouble

Damn his little brother for making him say these things. His own words made his heart twist with brutal pain in his chest. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He slammed the cup of coffee so hard on the counter that some of the black liquid sloshed over the edge and burned his hand. The pain didn’t matter to him. His adrenaline was pumping too hard from fatigue, stress, and uncertainty from too many variables in his life.

“Wait,” RJ said in a tired voice just as Brody turned to leave the room.

Brody turned around and pinned him with a glare. He was going to tell his brother to fuck off, but something stopped him. RJ had turned to lean against the counter. His head hung down as though defeat and exhaustion had finally taken over. Hell, he was just worried about his sister and had succumbed to a weak moment by taking his fear out on Brody. Too many times in the past had Brody fallen prey to that very thing, so he knew how his brother felt. RJ was coping with this situation the only way he knew how: by looking for someone to blame. It just so happened that Brody had placed himself in the line of fire. He couldn’t fault RJ for that.

“I’m sorry,” RJ said in a gruff voice. “I can tell you like her a lot and she seems like a great woman. Only someone who was committed to you would accompany you to a hospital to wait for hours in the middle of the night.” He lifted his head and looked at Brody. “I shouldn’t have said those things. None of this is your fault.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We all say things we don’t mean.” Except they were partially true. To a certain extent, Elisa had been distracting him. But it had been a distraction he’d needed, a way to take his mind off work troubles and worry over his son. And now Courtney.

“This woman is the real thing, isn’t she?” RJ asked.

Brody understood what RJ was trying to do: to make up for the things he’d just said. But Brody still didn’t want to talk specifics about Elisa. Not until he was able to figure some things out. “Yeah, she is. She’s not unimportant. I care about her.”

RJ pushed away from the counter. “It’s more than that. You’re in love with her. You just can’t admit it.”

“And you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he countered, because he didn’t need RJ reading him that deeply at seven in the morning.

RJ lifted his chin, as though challenging Brody to say more. And then RJ might put his fist in his brother’s face. “Don’t go there,” he said in a low voice.

“Just saying. You’re in as much denial as I am, my friend.” Then he turned around and left RJ to contemplate those words. Because his little brother, only separated by a year, needed a swift kick in the ass as much as Brody did.

He strolled back into the waiting room to find Elisa, because he’d had enough of this tiptoeing-around-his-feelings bullshit. Time to bring it all out in the open to see if Elisa could really handle it. Martin had finally returned, and Noah had gone to take his turn with Courtney. Avery was reading a book to Lily, and Rebecca had just stood from her chair and was walking toward him.

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Where’s Elisa?”

Rebecca’s brows pulled together in confusion. “Weren’t you just with her?”

What the hell? “No, why?”

“She said she was going to get some coffee, then she never came back. I figured she was with you.”

Brody released her arm, and the young woman walked away. If ever two people needed to sort their shit out, it was her and RJ. But Brody couldn’t worry about that right now. He walked back to the hallway, looked left, then right. All he saw was Rebecca’s backside as she walked toward the snack room and a nurse disappearing around a corner.

Where could Elisa have gone?

AT SEVEN FORTY-FIVE IN THE morning, nothing looked as inviting or heavenly as her bed. Elisa crawled into the cool sheets without bothering to change, pulled the covers over her head, and willed herself to sleep. A major obstruction in her quest for sweet dreams was Brody and the fact that his scent was all over her sheets and her clothes. Hell, she could still smell him in her hair.

Brody’s statement had been like a poisonous knife right through her heart. Since then, the toxins had been working their way through her body, paralyzing her with disbelief, shock, and heartache. She’d been unable to think of anything else, other than getting as far away from him as possible. The nurse at the front desk had looked at Elisa with pity when she, with tears rolling down her cheeks, had all but begged to use the phone. Then she’d called the only cab company within a ten-mile radius.

This was just a temporary solution. Brody would eventually come knocking on her door, wanting to know why she’d bolted. Maybe then she’d have the strength to face him. Right now, all she wanted to do was drift into nothingness and drown herself in senseless dreams.

Instead of going to sleep, a fresh wave of tears hit her, as though her mind was punishing her for stupidly falling in love with him. How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have allowed her heart to get trampled again?

It’s not like she hadn’t experienced heartbreak before. But, even then, her breakup with Micah had been like eating cheesecake compared to this. Micah hadn’t looked at her the way Brody did. He hadn’t stared down into her soul and stolen her heart like Brody had.

She hiccupped and wiped her tears on the sheets. When she pressed her nose to the fabric, she got another whiff of Brody, and an instant image came to mind. Brody’s wet, slick body in her shower, towering over her as he backed her against the tiled wall. Brody in her bed, his finely toned, muscled body stretched out across her sheets, with a little smirk on his face while he waited for her to devour him. And, finally, Brody telling her he’d accompany her to Brinkley’s appointment, holding her tight and telling her everything would be okay.

She’d never fallen so fast and so hard for someone before, and the aftermath was more than she could take. Her insides felt like they’d been ripped out.

Unable to sleep, she picked up her cell phone and dialed Marcello. Miraculously, he answered.

“Olá,” he greeted in a rushed voice.

At just the sound of her little brother’s deep, accented voice, all Elisa’s emotions from the past twenty-four hours rushed out of her like a bad stomach virus.

“Hi,” she answered in a wavering voice as tears pooled over her eyes.

“Elisa?” he said in a tone of alarm, which had her angst turning into guilt. “Is everything okay?” he wanted to know when she hadn’t said anything else. Mostly because her throat was too tight.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” she started, while swiping moisture off her cheeks with the bed sheet. “You can call me back if you need to.” Though I don’t know what I’ll do with myself until then.

“It’s okay, I’m in between classes.” Shuffling noises came from across the phone, then it got quiet. “Tell me what’s going on.”

More tears leaked out, which she blotted away with the already damp sheet. “My life is a mess, that’s what’s going on.”

“Are you hurt?” he wanted to know.

She sniffed. “No. Well, at least not physically.”

Marcello was silent for a moment. “Ah,” he finally replied as though the light bulb had kicked on. “This has to do with a man, doesn’t it? This Brody you were telling me about.”

Just hearing Brody’s name sent her in a new wave of tears, which gathered too fast for her to control. In the past, Elisa had always thought that she knew what a broken heart felt like. After all, she’d been betrayed by the first serious boyfriend she’d ever had. But Micah keeping his true sexuality a secret from her was like a drop in a big-ass bucket compared to the damage Brody had done. She’d rather relive her breakup with the male model a thousand times over than to have this hollowed-out feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Merda,” he cursed. “What did the bastard do? Because I’ll take the first flight out there and kick his traseiro.”

Her brother’s comments pulled a grin along her mouth, despite hearing him talk about kicking Brody’s ass. “I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary.”

“He made my sister cry,” Marcello argued.

“That’s my fault because I was stupid enough to fall in love with him,” she said on a whine as a new wave of tears blindsided her.

Her sweet younger brother waited her emotion out, giving her time to gather herself before bombarding her with questions. When he didn’t say anything, probably because he had no clue how to comfort her, she plugged on. “I’m so done with men. They’re all pigs.”

“Hey now, not all of us are like that,” he argued. “Only the ones who are in love.”

Elisa snorted. “Brody’s not in love with me.” Yes, that was her greatest hope, but there had to come a time when she needed to stop lying to herself. That way she could work on healing.

Her brother cursed again—this time in English. A sure pissed-off sign. “That’s it,” he said in a tight voice. “I’m flying you down here. I’ll get you a one-way ticket and you can return home whenever you want.”

Elisa shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “Marcello, no. Even a one-way ticket is like thirteen hundred dollars. I can’t let you spend all that money on me.”

Oh Lord, if her brother had to shell out all that money on a plane ticket for her, she’d never be able to sleep at night.

“No arguments, Elisa,” Marcello said in a firm voice. “Besides, I bet I could get Avô to pay for it. He racks up a whole bunch of airline miles with how much he travels.”