The Delivery (23 page)

I sit down onto the sofa that’s in the closest waiting room. I take out my phone to text Lex and call my parents. Brisa is alive, and she may very well see the resemblance but that won’t change who she is. Brisa is a different person from the baby that was taken that day.

Chapter 32

M
ozey

I tell them both politely outside the room that I want to go in alone. They protest and stall, but I stand firmly rooted. I won’t let these thieves take away from my reunion. I want to see Brisa without them. I want to spare her the tension. I want to spare her all of the ugliness that surrounds our relationship.

They finally agree when I swear I won’t budge. Mr. Miramontes, Alberto,
call me Beto
, tells me sharply, not to speak of our separation or the manner in which she left us. I already know they are the same damn couple. I have Brisa’s blood running through my veins, blood from our mother as well as from our father. Rage is on a simmer just under my skin. The only thing that saves him from an over-boil is my knowledge of how Brisa would have fared had she not been taken away. I hate to admit that she was better off without us. She did better with them.

The hospital room is private. It’s got more flower arrangements than a flower shop and enough balloons and cards to fill every surface. I pull down the surgical mask and move slowly toward her.

Her eyes are open, and she smiles shyly at me. She’s pale and too thin, and I feel ferociously protective of her.

“Moisés,” she mouths. But what comes out is barely a whisper.

I take the chair at her side and pull her frail hand into mine. I lean forward and into her until my forehead touches the back of her hand.

“Brisa,” I say. But it comes out as a choked sob. Her brows shoot up in surprise but then her face is overcome with a grin. Of course. She doesn’t know that name. “Ana María,” I say. “We called you Brisa.” I want to cry and let it all out. But I won’t let myself break down in front of her. She deserves my control. This is about her survival not my grief from losing her the first time.

“Call me what you like. Thank you for coming,” she says, her face again brightening. She blossoms through her sickness with another infectious smile. She takes my hand and holds it in hers.

I can remember the smell of her skin. Holding her tiny body in my arms when it was shaking with hunger, holding her for hours until she was red and blotchy from crying. I remember kissing the crown of her head, whispering that mom was coming, that we’d both soon be fed. The great wash of relief when she’d exhaust herself and give in to sleep, her tiny head nuzzling into the crook of my arm. I remember being protective of her to the point of viciousness, even protecting her from our own mother when necessary.

More than anything else I remember how much it hurt when they took her, how my arms that used to ache from holding her could ache so much without her. How the weight of a sinking heart is impossible for a six-year-old to bear. How I had to drink her milk while she was being forced into the arms of another mother. Probably crying for the same milk while I consumed it. My mother’s milk, a poisonous and guilt-ridden, but necessary elixir.

“I’ve missed you everyday,” I say with tears pouring down my face. I haven’t cried this hard since the day she was taken away.

She wipes at my tears with the tips of her fingers. Her pointer finger dips and catches the bridge of my nose. She runs her fingertip up and down it, smiling through her own tears.

“Look, Moisés, we have the same nose.”

“And the same kidneys,” I say, trying to make a joke. But she looks at me gravely and takes a deep breath.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Of course I do. You’re my sister.”

This prompts a hug. She sits up and moves toward me fast even though I can tell she’s weak. She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight.

“I love you, Moisés. Thank you for saving me.”

I’m overwhelmed by the moment. This is Brisa, alive and breathing and all grown up into a real person. The child I held onto with everything I had, trying to protect her. If I can save her now, I can love her again. I’ve been missing a piece for the last fifteen years. Maybe by taking a part of myself and giving it to her, I’ll be able to finally feel like a complete person.

I watch her fall asleep like I did when we were young. Once sleep takes hold, she releases my hand. I stare at her hands in silence remembering how fierce her grip was when she was tiny. A nurse comes in and tells me they’re waiting. It’s already hard to leave her again.

The doctors put me through a battery of tests to see if I’m fit for surgery. When I’m finally cleared and the procedure is scheduled for morning, I make my way to the waiting room to find Lana. She’s curled in a ball, her knees pulled to her chest. A book lies beside her, and she appears to be sleeping. Love surges in me and makes my feet feel heavy. My love for Lana is a churning ocean, the undertow that drives me in deeper the more I try to resist it. I put my hand on her shoulder, and her head pops up, her eyes blinking open searching my face. She’s got two red blotches on her cheeks from where they met with her knees. She’s still wearing my ring. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Everything okay?” she asks me.

“Yeah. Everything is perfect.”

Chapter 33

L
ana

I wish we could call a taxi, but the Miramontes insist we take their car and security. Luckily Mo talked them out of a slumber party, and we’ve gotten a room. It’s my last chance to have Mozey with a complete body. My last night with his kidney.

He tells me about Brisa and their immediate connection. How when he held her in his arms it was the first time they felt full since the last time he held her. I can relate only because I know that if I ever lost Alexei, I would lose an irreplaceable part of myself. Siblings provide an even keel in life, like balancing the tires on your car.

“Are you going to paint tonight?” I ask him as I curl into his shoulder. I’m guessing he’ll need an outlet for release.

“No, I want to stay and be close to you.”

“Will you try to get ahold of your mother?”

“No, but I’d like to call Alexei if that’s okay with you.”

I nod my head and smile. Everything will be okay. I promise myself it will. There couldn’t be a God so cruel that he’d sacrifice Mozey to save his sister, especially not after all they’ve been through. I thread my fingers through his and pull his hand to my chest.

“What would you paint if you went out tonight?”

“Your green eyes and Brisa’s hands. A bowl full of kidney beans with one fallen off to the side of the plate.”

He looks tired but he has a smile on his face.

Mo can’t eat or drink so I decide to fast along with him. It’s not like I’m going to order a steak and devour it in front of him. Although I’m hungry enough to eat the whole cow, maybe even the barn. My lunch consisted of beef jerky and Gatorade from the vending machine. But his was contrast fluid so I can’t complain. I’ll drink the champagne from the wet bar instead. The Miramontes aren’t cutting costs—that’s for sure. They’ve put us up in a swank hotel, with security not only outside our door and in the lobby, but also in SUVs out on the street—all of them armed. I pull back the curtain and watch down below as a police car pulls up, an officer gets out and speaks to one of the guards.

“I guess it’s supposed to make us feel safe, but I think it does the opposite. Are they really here for protection or is it to keep us from leaving?”

“I think it’s the kidney they’re protecting, not
us
.”

“So it’s to keep us from leaving,” I say, feeling trapped and claustrophobic.

“That, and I’m sure the Miramontes have plenty of enemies. My kidney is valuable to them so it makes me a target. If someone were to take me out, they’d get Brisa too. Two siblings with one stone. I think the security is necessary, Lana, if we want to wake up tomorrow.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses the back of my neck ever so softly. “Sorry to make you involuntarily risk your own life for me,” Mozey whispers in my ear.

“You’re not afraid?”

“No, I’m happy,” he says as he brushes his lips over my ear.

I should take it more seriously—I do. But it’s impossible not to feel the burn when he puts his mouth on me. Pinpricks of desire run up my spine. I angle my face to his as he licks a delicate line from the back of my neck to the base of my ear.

“It’s okay, but no more organ donations after this one. I want all of your parts. Sorry if that’s selfish.”

“Which parts do you want?” he whispers, nipping my earlobe, his cheeks rounding in a smile. Mozey trails his fingertips from my shoulders to my elbows, then skates them down my forearms. He clasps my hands when he reaches them, turning me around and pulling me into his chest. He’s big and strong, and his hug completely envelopes me. I want for nothing in these arms—except for more of his body. Mozey lifts me up, his arm coming under the backs of my knees. He brings me to the bed and gently tosses me into it.

“We’re still going to have to wait for our time, Lana. I’m sorry.”

I nod my head in understanding, but I can’t say what I think. If Mozey were to die in surgery, we’d never get the chance. I’d have to live forever without ever fully knowing his body and what it feels like to abandon ourselves to one another’s pleasure, to submit to nothing but the contact of our flesh.

“I’m still planning on touching you. But forgive me for being hungry and dehydrated and having to get up to pee in a bag,” he says, moving his body to encircle mine. He wraps himself around me until I feel like I’m nestled into a conch shell. I don’t know how we got from who and where we were when we first met—to this. I know that I would do anything for this man and that in the comfort of his arms, I am the one who’s been delivered.

We rise at dawn, both of our stomachs growling. Mozey looks more excited than he should for what he’s about to face. It’s as if his kidney were a pair of too small sneakers that he’s more than happy to pass on to his sister. Who knew anyone could feel so casual about removing a body part. I’m the one who’s morose and scared of the surgery. But I’m trying to hide it so he can enjoy this strange moment. I know Mozey feels like it’s symbolic compensation for the milk. I’d remind him that technically speaking she didn’t really need it, but I love him too much to minimize what’s burdened his conscious for years.

“I promise I’ll take you out for the world’s biggest breakfast as soon as I’m cleared to eat again,” Mozey smiles at me across the seat of the SUV escorting us to the hospital. I unbuckle my seat belt and slide over into his arms. He kisses the top of my head as if reassuring me. “Hey, Lana, look at me. It’s not like I’m losing a limb.”

“I know,” I say even though I feel like it is.

“Do you want to talk about what will happen if something goes wrong and I don’t make it?”

“No, I don’t,” I say, burying my face into his neck.

Mozey pushes me back by the shoulders and looks into my eyes. He has the most beautiful cupid’s bow. So strong and defined and irresistible to kiss. He takes my mouth ever so gently and pours both emotion and desire into our kiss.

“They offered me compensation for the kidney. I refused it of course. I don’t want anything to do with their dirty money. But then I sat on it for a while and realized I can’t leave you again. It’s in your name in case anything goes wrong and your parents have the account numbers.”

“No, don’t do this to me, Mozey. And right before we have to go in.”

He puts his fingertips to my lips to shush me. Then pulls me to him for another sweet and lazy kiss.

“No negotiations on this one, Finch. Sorry. It’s already done and you’ll have to live with it. You could open up your own place like Pathways. Make a difference with those kids.”

“If you even start to die in that surgery, Mo, I’ll run in there and kill you myself. Don’t even think about it. You better fucking pull through it and with strength because I’m expecting a night full of hot sex—sometime really soon. I’ve waited years to get some of this,” I say, grabbing him between the legs and feeling his dick.

Mozey kisses me back a little more forcefully, slipping his tongue between my eager lips. We might be the only couple to make out like teenagers on the drive to the hospital for surgery.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, boss,” he murmurs through our desperate kiss. There are so many things I want to say to him, let him know I regretted every time I turned him away.

We’ve arrived at the entrance to the hospital, and the thugs have stepped out and are opening the doors for us. Mozey removes my hand from the crotch of his pants.

“Doc, believe me, I don’t want you to stop, but I can’t walk in there with a boner like this.”

I laugh in spite of myself. Then I look at his beautiful smile and my own face dissolves into an expression filled with fear. I search his face frantically unable to convey all that I feel for him with words or kisses or any recourse I possess.

“I’ve loved you every minute, Mo. Since your damn case file was placed on my desk. I never got to tell you how grateful I was,
am
, because I was too busy being angry and—”

“Lana,” Mo says, again taking my shoulders and looking deeply into my face. “It’s a routine surgery and pretty low-risk. I’ll be up and running by tomorrow morning. We’ve got a whole lifetime together. We’re in this together. Me and you, right?”

I nod at him with the terror-induced words still sitting on my lips. He takes my hand and looks down at my ring finger, rubbing his thumb over the band once and then twice. He sighs and then looks at me sincerely.

“Let me talk and don’t say anything else until you’ve heard me through. It’s something I gotta do. I know you understand—you’d do the same for Alexei. And he would for you. I know I’ll come through this without a scratch because I can already see my future and it’s filled up with nothing except a whole lot of you. Thank you for coming after me, Lana. God knows I’ve behaved like an ass at times, but I like who I am when I’m with you.”

I choke out a sob and hold back from throwing my arms around him. I don’t want to make a scene. My instincts are telling me to drag him away from this place and all of these people no matter how much he protests. I don’t trust the security let alone the Miramontes. I don’t even trust the doctors performing the surgery. Though I’m loathe to admit it, I don’t trust Brisa because she’s a part of it.

One last kiss, a tight hug, and I let go of his hand. I stand in the entryway to the hospital, staring down at my empty hand. I don’t want to let go of Moisés. I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to lose him for good.