The Song Remains the Same (38 page)

He shook his head. “I don’t want to start a romantic relationship right out of something fucked up like this. She obviously still has feelings for Phil even if she says she has feelings for me. It just makes it hard for me to want to be involved with that. I haven’t bothered having a relationship with a woman in years, and when I finally do, I don’t want to be a fucking rebound.”

“I guess that’s not a mutual decision,” I said.

Sadness flooded his face. “No. I told her that we should wait and see how things go.”

“How did she take it?”

“She stormed off for a few hours, but she came back. She said she understood and hoped that I would change my mind. I told her maybe I would, in time.”

“Do you love her?” I asked.

“That’s a bit of a loaded question there, Doc.”

Sighing, I turned my attention back to my beer.

“I think I could have. There are times when I’m with her, and it’s fantastic,” he said softly.

Next to me, Sheri nodded. “There were times when Brigid was sweet and fun to be with,” she said, stirring her mojito. “When I called her my friend. I don’t know what it was, but she changed. Became mean and bitter. Toward the end, I just couldn’t take her bad-mouthing my friends and talking to them like they were trash.”

“I know what you mean,” said Devon. “She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Her brain just works on a different level. She really can’t help it, and I know it doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it might help explain it better. She goes through self-destructive cycles, tears down friendships when they start to get too close. Deep emotions leave her feeling vulnerable.”

Whatever the case, Brigid must’ve left her meds back in Amsterdam because she was borderline certifiable in my book. Admittedly, I was heavily judgmental with regard to Brigid Von Douche Bitch.

But Devon cared enough about her to try to understand the reasons for why she was the way she was.

He must love her. No one would put up with that sort of shit if they didn’t. I wondered if he even realized it himself.

“Are you going back with her to Amsterdam?” I asked.

He shook his head. “She goes back on Monday, and I’ll head there on Friday. There are a few things that I need to take care of first, or I’d be going with her.”

“Does she have anyone in Amsterdam? Friends? Relatives? I thought she was from Switzerland.”

“She is. She moved to Amsterdam a few years back. She’s got a sister there. Her parents…” He seemed uncomfortable about saying anything else.

I nodded. “You don’t need to tell us, Devon. Her business is none of our own.” I wouldn’t want Phil telling people my private history, so I should respect the fact that Devon didn’t want to spill the beans on Brigid.

“You know, that’s an amazing quality you have, Kenna. It makes me wish you weren’t taken with the Ragin’ Cajun.”

“You know, if he catches you talking to me like that, he’ll break your hands,” I said.

His turquoise eyes grew serious, dark. “If I didn’t love him so much, I would’ve fought for you. You’re a rare type of woman. Don’t ever forget that.”

Next to me, Sheri coughed, and Devon picked up his beer.

“Well,
that
wasn’t awkward,” said Sheri under her breath.

We drank in silence for a few minutes, and the Ragin’ Cajun himself showed up, wrapping his arms around me. “Hey, have you seen X?”

“He and Alys went off somewhere,” said Sheri. “Why?”

“Nothin’. Just curious.”

He ordered a drink and joined us. Jason came over soon after, and Connor showed his freshly laid self, grinning like a moron from ear to ear.

“Did you fuck the nasty out of your system then?” I hissed, glaring at him.

His cheeky smile faded.

As it should, the douche.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You were really rude to Alys, Connor. That was unacceptable,” I whispered, not wanting the others to overhear.

Flushing, he nodded. “I know. I’ll tell her I’m sorry.”

Since everyone seemed to be showing up, we decided to leave the bar in favor of a VIP booth. Lewis and a beaming Lili joined us, informing us that she had won over five thousand dollars at a craps table.

“She was on
fire
!” Lewis laughed.

Connor got up to allow Lili to slide in when X and Alys came back.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” asked Flipper.

X pulled Alys into his arms. “Everyone, if I may…I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Alys Sunshine
Johnson
, who as of an hour ago, agreed to become my wife!”

Stunned silence. And then—

“Fuck yeah!” boomed Phil’s voice.

The guys exploded, jumping over the table to get to the newlyweds and give them their hearty congratulations. Well, all of them did, except for Connor, who looked as though he’d been punched in the nuts.

Lili shot out of the booth. “You
bitch
! Why didn’t you tell us? We were supposed to be your bridesmaids!”

Alys burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling brightly. Making my way out of the booth, I hugged her with Lili.

“Ring? Did he at least get you a ring?” demanded Lili.

He had. A six-carat diamond on a platinum band. X had a thick platinum band for himself.

Snapping out of it, Connor clapped X’s back, gave him a hug, and made an excuse about needing the restroom. No one but myself noticed his sneaky move. Outside the lounge, he headed for the elevators, not the restrooms.

“Alys—” I started to say quietly.

“We’ll celebrate later,” she said softly, cutting me off. “I…”

“You
chose
X, Alys. There’s nothing wrong with that,” I whispered in her ear as I hugged her tight. “Don’t feel bad for loving someone enough to marry him.”

The look she gave me when I pulled back was closed off, and I ached because she didn’t trust me with whatever it was that was going on inside her. But that was her choice to make, too.

I tried to slip away, but Phil took my hand. “Where are you goin’?”

“Um, I was just…”

Whatever he saw in my eyes, he understood, and his own gaze drifted toward the exit where Connor had walked through. We gave the happy couple our congratulations once more, telling them we’d be back. Devon decided to come with us.

“I want to check on Brigid,” he explained.

“I saw her today,” I stated. It surprised me, the words just popping out of my mouth, and suddenly, a weird feeling overtook me. “She came into the bar this afternoon.”

Devon gave me a startled look. “What was she doing there?”

“She met someone, a girl with short black hair. She completely ignored us, so…I didn’t really think much of it.”

“At what time?”

“Maybe three?”

He nodded. “Yeah, she left around then. What’s up with your brother? He seemed upset about Alys and X.”

Phil stiffened, his hand tightening around mine.

“Oh, you know, Alys is like a sister to him, just as much as I am. Maybe running off and getting married without telling us bothered him.”

Devon’s perfectly arched black brow rose up. “Oh. Yeah. I’m sure that’s it.”

The elevator ride up to our floor felt strained. Phil’s head was practically shouting at me for not telling him about whatever had happened between Alys and Connor. Not like I could, considering I didn’t even know myself.

I spotted Connor sitting with his back against the wall next to his suite door, his head in his hands. He was a sad figure depicting abject defeat.

“Kenna…” whispered Phil.

I stepped out of the elevator and headed toward my miserable baby brother.

“Give her a minute,” Devon quietly told Phil.

“Connor?” I wanted to give him the option of turning me away.

His green eyes,
my
eyes, looked up at me, and I knew what I would look like if Phil ever ran off and married someone else—broken, lost, adrift in an endless torrent of misery.

How did I never see this between them?

“Oh, sweetheart,” I whispered, going down on my knees and pulling him into my arms.

His head rested against my chest, his arms squeezing me tight.

“It’s all my fault,” he choked.

Phil’s presence burned behind me, hot waves of energy pulsing off him. Down the hall, I heard the soft click of Devon’s door as it shut behind him.

“Why don’t we go in your room?” I asked quietly. “We can get out of the hallway.”

“They’re in there,” he whispered, his voice full of regret with possibly a healthy dose of self-loathing.

Then, it happened.

Time turned thick, viscous. The very air of the world grew heavy, and adrenaline spiked through me.

“Fuck! Help!”
It was faint, entombed within a suite designed to contain sound. The fact that one could hardly hear it did nothing to diminish the horror behind it.

Jerking back from Connor, I turned my stunned face to Phil, whose eyes had gone wide.

A heartbeat. Two.

Devon burst out of the suite.
“Somebody! Help!”
he screamed.

All three of us tore down the corridor toward Devon, Phil’s huge self with his long legs getting there ahead of us.

“It’s Brigid—”

“Call nine-one-one!” I told him, running in and finding her on the floor.

Time slowed to a trickle.

Lucy’s voice echoed through my head.

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

Brigid lay there, her face and lips tinged blue with foamy white vomit pooled beneath her cheek. Her eyes were half open, and the pupils…they were only black voids, the pretty blue of her irises a thin ring.

Digging my room key out of my pocket, I held it out to my brother. “Connor, get my medic bag. It’s in my suite next to the couch. Hurry back.”

Devon was hysterical, screaming and crying. Phil had his arms locked around his struggling friend, a mask of utter anguish on his face.

“Call nine-one-one,” I said again. “And
stay on the phone
, Phil. Devon, fucking calm the fuck down.”

Then I was running. In the bathroom, I found towels to wipe the vomit from her face. After I did that, I proceeded with chest compressions. Within a few minutes, Connor returned with my bag.

“What do you need?” he asked.

“Gloves. You put on a pair, too. She has a needle in her arm. I think her lungs are filled, but we might be able to clear the airway.”

Once I had the gloves on, I made Connor step back as I removed the needle from the vein and placed it on a nearby surface where it wouldn’t stick anyone. Turning Brigid on her left side, I attempted to clear the vomit from her throat. Connor assisted me, holding her mouth open and pinching her nostrils.

“Clean her mouth with an alcohol swab. Under the lips, too. Check the swabs for blood,” I instructed while rolling her onto her back once more. “There’s a CPR mask in the bag—pear-shaped, red plastic case,” I told him, compressing
.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…

Thirty chest compressions later, Connor fitted the mask over Brigid’s face.

Two breaths.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

The world was in slow motion, time
drip, drip, dripping
by. Brigid’s body swayed lazily under my hands with each pump I applied to jumpstart her heart. Looking at Brigid, I saw my mother, and I swore to myself I would bring her back.

“You aren’t supposed to heal me, Kenna.”
My mother’s voice breached through the years.
“It’s my fate.”

A single fat tear leaked out of Brigid’s half-mast eye, rolling into the hair at her temple, a slip of liquid that held a universe of grief that I’d never know.

Two breaths.

My enemy…this woman had earned my hatred, had cherished it, and I was fighting for her life as I would have for the woman who had given me mine.

Brigid’s eyes, black holes that had once singed me with burning contempt, were vacant. The spark of life was lost to the void, so far down into the black holes. I couldn’t see how I could ever find her to bring her back out.

Thirty compressions.

Two breaths.

I’d never know for sure how long I fought to save her, only that Connor grabbed me as the EMT crew came in. Sinking into Connor’s arms, exhausted, sweaty, I leaned my back into his chest, letting his strength hold me up. My ears rang. Through the tinnitus flare-up, I heard voices as though they were underneath the surface of a great body of water.

Except Lucy’s. Her voice sounded like a bell in my mind.

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

“Dr. Kenna? I’m stuck.”

Across the room, my eyes met Phil’s, showing me shock, devastation and pain.

Devon screamed out the dead girl’s name as he crumpled in Phil’s arms. His hands went up to cover his face as he broke into uncontrollable sobs. Phil had him. Phil had a whole world of love for anyone who needed it. His hugs were powerful voodoo.

In my head, I heard the conversation I’d had with my mother in a dream the night she’d passed away.

“You’re mad!
You’ve gone insane!”

“Nope!”
My mother laughed.
“I’ve gone dead.”

There was nothing I could’ve done to bring Brigid back. Brigid was dead before we’d arrived. My hands tingled with the memory of her cool body swaying beneath them.

By whatever means, whatever road Brigid was on now, it was not here. She’d left this world behind.