Page 6 of Everything We Left Behind

He held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, I should have asked.”

“Forget about it.” I probably would. One day. I offered the near-empty bottle. “Drink?”

He grabbed the bottle’s neck, wiped the lip with his shirt, and drank. His lips spread thin over his teeth as the liquor’s sourness made its way to his stomach. He returned the bottle, now empty.

“Why are you still here?”

He clipped a cap on the lens. “Imelda’s looking up some information for me.”

I overhanded the Patrón into the nearest trash can and missed. It dropped into the sand.Shit.“I wouldn’t trust anything she tells you.”

“My situation is unrelated to yours.”

“You mean she hasn’t been paid to lie to you?” I pushed away from the tree and the horizon tilted.

“Steady, man.” Ian snagged my arm. He scooped up the Patrón and waved the bottle at me. “Did you drink the entire thing?” he asked, tossing it into the trash. It crashed onto a pile of empty Corona bottles left over from thetorneo.

I shook my head.No, thank God.I was drunk, not comatose. The bottle had been less than half-full when Pedro started pouring me shots. Speaking of shots ...

“I need another one.” I stumbled away from the tree.

Ian folded his arms. “You’re just like him, you know.”

“Of course I look like James.”You idiot.

He nodded his head in the direction of Casa del sol’s lobby. “I was talking about your brother Thomas.”

The asshole who choreographed my mess of a life. Definitely not the person I wanted to see. I couldn’t be responsible for what I’d do to him if I did. He’d find out firsthand what it was like to recover from reconstructive facial surgery and pulled shoulder ligaments.

That had been my second memory. Opening my eyes to a woman sitting beside my bed. She’d worn a white blouse and gray skirt, her shapely legs crossed and leaning to the side. Breathtakingly beautiful, that was my first thought of her. Like an exotic model from an upscale clothing catalog. Or the ones airbrushed to perfection on the glossy pages of a magazine, like the one she flipped through. I lifted my head to see what she was reading and groaned at the laser-sharp pain that exploded in my shoulder.

Her head snapped up. She tossed aside the magazine and leaned over me. Her hand found mine, soft and cool to the touch, and when she smiled, her cocoa eyes sheened. “Don’t move; you need to rest,” she said in a soothing voice. “Your nose and cheekbones had to be reset. The less you move, the less pain you’ll feel.” Her fingers fluttered over my face, drawing my attention to the bandages wrapped around my head.

She nodded toward my right shoulder. “You dislocated it.” She explained that the swelling had finally diminished enough for Dr.Mendez to pop the joint back into place. I had to keep it immobile, then I’d need therapy.

My gaze skimmed her face, the sharp angles of her cheekbones and straight line of her nose, hinting of European descent. I frowned. How could I know that when I didn’t even know who she was, let alone my own name?

“Who are you?” I whispered through chafed lips.

“Imelda.” She smoothed her palms over the front panel of her skirt. “Imelda Rodriguez. I’m your sister, and I’m going to take care of you, Carlos.Sí?”

“Sí.”

I had a sister.

I didn’t know why it was important. It was more like a feeling I had. This woman would watch over me while I healed. For the moment, I felt safe.

As I eyed Ian a few paces away, an uneasy feeling rippled through me, adding to the queasiness brought on by downing too much liquor in the span of twenty minutes. I wondered if I was any safer today than I had been before I entered my fugue state.

Pedro left his post at the bar and went around the back, probably for a smoke. He’d never know I’d slipped back into the bar for one more shot. “I’m getting a drink. Want one?”

Ian shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “Drinking yourselves to oblivion won’t solve your problems.”

I snorted in disgust.

“Yeah, your bro’s fairly wasted, too. He’s been a permanent fixture in the lobby bar since he arrived two days ago.”

“I don’t give a fuck. As for my problems, those shots have done a phenomenal job making me forget them.” I started to walk away.

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