Chapter Thirty-One

Tessa

The jet lands in Boston in the middle of the night, and Ben’s driver meets us at the airport and transports me straight to Mount Sinai, where my father is.

After checking in with the volunteer on duty, Ben also accompanies me up to my father’s room in the ICU.

I haven’t checked in with my mother since we landed. I was afraid to. Afraid I’d get bad news.

We wait in front of the elevator. I tap my foot on the glistening white floor. “For God’s sake!” I curl my hands into fists. “Where’s the fucking elevator?”

Ben looks around. “We can find the stairs. It’s only three floors.”

“Yes, please.” I feel better when I’m moving.

Just standing here doing nothing, waiting for damned—

Ding!

Finally the mirrored elevator doors part, and I rush in, Ben behind me. The doors close, and slowly—so damned slowly—we ascend. When the doors slide open, I rush out—

But a young man in dark blue scrubs walks into the elevator at the same time, carrying a tray of something. He collides with me and—

“Now look what you did!” he exclaims as what look like packages of gauze and bandages thud to the floor.

I stand, mouth agape, unable to form words.

“She did nothing,” Ben says. “Don’t you know it’s courtesy to wait until people get off the elevator before you get on? Come on, Tessa.” He grabs my hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Except, no. No, I’m not.” Tears spring to my eyes.

“He’s an asshole,” Ben says.

“What if he was trying to get to a surgery?”

“He wasn’t. It’s the middle of the night, and even if he were, he wouldn’t be using the regular elevators. This isn’t your fault.”

I gulp, following him through the hallway, reading the numbers on the plaques by the hospital rooms.

And when I get to—

I gasp.

The room is empty.

I rush out to the nurse’s station. “I’m looking for my father, Daniel Logan. Where is he?”

The nurse widens her eyes. “You’re his daughter? I thought he only had one.”

“I was out of town. I got here as soon as I could. Where is he? Where’s my mother?”

She smiles weakly. “I think you need to talk to your mother, my dear.”

My heart is racing as if I’ve just run a marathon, and my mind… My mind…

The nurse’s face blurs in front of me. Ben’s strong arm steadies me, and my vision clears.

The nurse’s face reveals nothing.

She knows nothing, of course.

Oh God, oh God, oh God…

“Tessa,” Ben says calmly, “you need to call your mother.”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, but she knew you were on your way, and she needs to know you’re here.”

But my mother doesn’t pick up. It goes straight to voicemail.

This is Carlotta Logan. I apologize for not being able to take your call. Please leave me a message.

“Mommy, it’s me. It’s Tessa. Where are you? I’m here at the hospital. Where is Da?”

And then my phone clatters to the hard, tiled floor of the hospital hallway right outside the room where my father is supposed to be.

My mother is walking toward me, tears streaking her face.

“Mommy!” I run to her.

She cries into my shoulder.

“Mommy, where’s Da? Tell me what happened?”

She sniffles on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tessa. Your da… He didn’t make it.”

The world spins, then. The room spins. Everything spins.

My mother becomes a blob that is glommed onto me.

She doesn’t even look like my mother.

I look up to the stars, to the heavens—but of course I see only the drywall in the hospital ceiling.

My body chills, as if pins are prickling me, daggers slicing through my heart.

My da…

My daddy…

My father…

“He’s with Nana now.”

The words come from somewhere. I believe from my mother.

Nana wasn’t his mother. She was Mommy’s mother. But she loved Da. She thought he was the best thing that ever happened to Mommy.

She finally lets go of me—but I still don’t see her. Her face is a blur. All I see are the tears running down it. As if water is just coming from somewhere other than her deep brown eyes.

“It was a massive coronary,” another voice says. “We did all we could.”

“But I talked to Eva. And to you… When did I talk to you?”

“Tessa, that was hours ago.”

Right. I was in Jamaica. Then on the plane. Then Ben’s car.

Ben.

Where is Ben? He was here.

And then I see him.

He’s standing a few feet away from me, keeping his distance, letting me be.

And then he’s all I see. His height, his potency, the way he fills up the room with his presence.

Everything falls around him, and he’s all that’s standing.

He is strength.

I turn away from my mother and fall into his arms.

…

Time passes in a blur, and the next thing I know, I’m lying in a bed.

It’s not a familiar bed.

“Mommy!” I cry out.

Someone comes to me, sits on the side of the bed. Strokes my forehead. “It’s okay, Tessa. You’re safe.”

That’s not Mommy’s voice.

I sit up. Ben Black is there. “Where am I?”

“I brought you to my house. I didn’t want you to be alone. Your mother and sister are here as well, in different guest rooms.”

“This isn’t your room?”

“Of course not. I’d never be so presumptuous.”

He looks down at me, and his face is so handsome and caring in the sunlight streaming in through the window. How much time has passed? I have no idea.

I feel so empty. So much emptier than any other time in my life. Even when I woke up in the hospital after what Garrett did to me. Even after remembering what happened at my first communion.

This is worse. A thousand times worse.

I wasn’t violated this time, but I lost so much more than what Garrett took from me.

What Garrett and the altar boy took from me, I can heal from. I can get back.

I can never get my da back.

“You need anything?” Ben asks.

“I should go to work.”

“It’s Sunday, Tessa.”

I shake my head to clear it. “Sunday? I don’t… It was late Saturday night when we flew from Jamaica.”

“Yes, and we arrived in the middle of the night, Sunday morning.”

“And we went to the hospital.”

“Yes.”

“And I was too late, Ben.” Tears fall from my eyes. “I was too late to see my da. I was too late to tell him how much I love him.”

Ben rubs circles into my back. “He knows, sweetheart.”

I jerk at the term of endearment. “Don’t call me that.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry.”

I wipe a tear with my finger. “I don’t mean it that way. It’s just…that’s what Garrett called me.”

“All right.” He pulls me into a hug against his hard, warm body. “How about if I just call you Tessa?”

“Of course Garrett called me Tessa, too. But it’s my name, and he won’t take that from me.” I sniffle. “And damn it, he won’t take sweetheart from me, either. So you know what? If you want to call me sweetheart, go ahead.”

“It’s all right.” He strokes my hair. “I don’t need to use that one. We’ll find one that works for both of us.”

“Do you think you’re ready to kiss me now?” I ask.

He lets go of me and rises, rubs his hands through his hair. He turns for a moment but then turns back toward me, meeting my gaze. “You know I’ve been ready to kiss you for a long time, Tessa. But now is not the right time.”

“I disagree. Now is the perfect time.”

He closes his eyes, almost as if in pain. “If you only knew what you do to me.”

I stare at him. At the anguished twist in his handsome face. “If it’s anything like what you’re doing to me right now, then I do know, Ben. Please. I need you. I need that kiss.”

He sits back on the bed. “A kiss from me is not a substitute for the loss of your father.”

God, more tears are coming. I choke them back. “I know it’s not. You really think that I think anything could make up for that?”

He pushes my hair back over my forehead. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Then kiss me. Please.”

“I want to. I want to so badly. But our first kiss, Tessa, isn’t going to be like this. It’s not going to be an escape from something. And it’s not going to be a substitute for something.”

“I’m not seeing it as any of those things.”

“Tessa, mere days ago, you jerked away at my touch.”

“Stop treating me like I’m some fragile glass figurine that will break if you touch it. That’s not what I need.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not fragile. You’re strong, Tessa. So very strong.”

“Not strong enough.” I gulp. “I need that kiss, Ben. I can’t even describe how much I need it.”

He cups my cheek. “I’ll hold you. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed. I’ll draw you a warm bath.”

“Or a cold plunge?”

“Or a cold plunge. Whatever you need. But I can’t kiss you yet, Tessa.”

“Why not?”

His gaze darkens. “Because if I kiss you, I won’t want to stop with a kiss. I’ll want to do things you may not be ready for.”

“Maybe I am ready.”

He comes near me then, grips my shoulders. “Are you ready for everything, Tessa? Because once I kiss those lips, I’m going to want to rip your clothes off, suck on your gorgeous tits, suck all the juice out of your pussy, and then I’m going to fuck you hard. Hard and fast and raw. Because that’s how much I want you.”

I jerk backward at his words.

He stands abruptly, rakes his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, Tessa. Those words should have never come out of my mouth. Certainly not today, after what you’ve been through. Probably not ever.” He sits down. “Can you forgive me?”

I reach out and caress his cheek. His expression is so tortured, so full of anguish. He’s hurting for me. But he’s hurting for himself, too, and that’s why he lashed out.

“I can forgive you,” I say. “And you’re right. I’m not ready for that.”

But I want to be.

Because all those things he just described? I want them. From him.

Only from him.

“I can stop with a kiss,” he says. “I learned self-control a long time ago. But that’s not even the point. I want our first kiss to be perfect, something you’ll always remember, and if I kiss you now, it will forever be tainted with grief for your father. Plus, something’s still bothering you. Something about that bartender in Jamaica. Something…” He rubs his forehead. “I can’t kiss you yet, no matter how much we both want it.”