‘You would.’ His mouth barely moved.
She stepped in and snatched the ball, forcing him to look at her, to pay attention. ‘You’re right, my family do love me. No matter what they’ll love me. And if they know how happy you make me, they’ll love you—regardless of your past. But you won’t give them or me a chance because it’s easier not to.’ She took a shot but missed too. She turned to him as the ball bounced away. ‘You’re lazy. And you’re a coward.’
He looked at her, but there wasn’t the fire she’d hoped for. Just the dull stones.
‘I can’t presume to under stand what you went through. I wouldn’t dare to. But I do know this—you can’t let it ruin the rest of your life. You can’t lose faith in every body. And I don’t believe you have. Why else do you try to help those kids? Why else did you give Vance a chance with the bar? You try to keep yourself shut away but you can’t quite do it. And you couldn’t do it with me. Only now you’re scared. Now you’re trying to run. But you don’t have to, not from me.’
She stepped closer and took in a deep breath. ‘Everyone has problems, Lorenzo. We all do. But problems are best solved with help—and with support from the people who love you.’ He didn’t have to face his demons alone. She’d stand by his side and help him slay them. As he helped her.
He jerked, looking away from her and going back to the fence to get the ball. She stood, helplessly watching as he started the relentless practising again. She was waiting long moments for what—to be ignored?
She gulped, the burning hurt too strong to be held down any more.
‘You know, maybe I do know something of what you went through,’ she choked. ‘Maybe I do know something about loving someone, of wanting to be loved back but only to be rejected. Not wanted.’ The tears suddenly streamed down her face. ‘But at the end of the day it’s your loss. You could have had everything, Lorenzo. I would have given you everything.’
She ran then, wanting to get as far from this hell as she could. Everything—her hope, her heart, her love—was in tatters.
She didn’t hear it, didn’t see it, as she blindly ran as fast as she could. The last thing she was conscious of was the piercing screech of rubber on metal, and the animal scream in her ears.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE door opened. Lorenzo turned his head as the woman burst in.
‘Where—?’ She broke off, gulping as she saw the pale figure in the bed. ‘Oh, Sophy.’ The tears sprang just like that. ‘Is she going to be okay?’
Lorenzo stood but didn’t answer and didn’t move away. He looked beyond her to the man who’d stopped on the thresh old. After a moment that man walked to the other side of the bed and looked down at his daughter for a time, his expression rigid. Then he looked at Lorenzo for even longer, even more frozen.
‘I know you.’ He didn’t smile.
‘Yes.’ Lorenzo still held her hand. His fingers tightened instinctively. ‘I’m not leaving.’
‘I can see that.’
‘Yeah.’ Lorenzo sat down again.
‘Beth, this is…’ He kept staring at Lorenzo.
‘Lorenzo. Lorenzo Hall.’
‘That’s right.’ He nodded slowly. Lorenzo just knew it had all come back to him now.
‘Do you know each other?’ Her mother looked from her father to him.
Lorenzo looked at the man who had once judged him. Who’d once before given him a chance. And waited.
‘Not really.’
Lorenzo looked down at the bed.
‘You’re a friend of Sophy’s?’ her mother asked.
‘Yes.’
In the silence, nothing more was said.
The guilt was swamping him. It was his fault. If he hadn’t made her so upset. If she’d hadn’t been at the damn warehouse. If she hadn’t run so fast, so blindly from him.
Her blonde hair was spread on the pillow with its perfect curls on the ends. Her skin was unnaturally pale with the ugly bruise deepening. He still couldn’t believe there were no broken bones—or worse. He’d waited, utterly distraught, while they’d done their tests. A bad bump to the head, that was all, despite being knocked to the ground, clipped by the edge of the car. It was only the driver’s quick action in pulling on the wheel that had saved her from more serious injuries.
The doctors would monitor her for the night, but they didn’t think there was anything they’d missed. But even now, despite their words, he feared there was damage beyond what he could see.
‘Why don’t you call Victoria and Ted, darling?’ Sophy’s father spoke. ‘Go into the lounge area. I’ll come and get you if there’s any change.’
Lorenzo knew they were communicating behind his back. He didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving the damn room.
As soon as the door closed behind her he lifted his gaze and met the judge’s. He had the same blue eyes as Sophy’s—only his were colder. ‘Things have changed for you since we last met, Lorenzo.’
‘A lot.’
‘I’m glad.’ He looked serious. ‘Does Sophy know?’
‘Yes.’ Lorenzo swallowed.
‘And she’s your…friend?’
He knew what he was asking. ‘Yes.’
The judge’s face tightened. ‘You had a lot of potential back then. But when I saw you, you were too angry to use it. Too angry to let anyone care for you. Anyone who tried had it thrown back at them.’ His voice changed, to the implacable, imperative word of law. ‘Don’t you do that to my daughter.’
Lorenzo didn’t answer, just looked at the small fingers resting limply in his. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d already done exactly that.
Sophy’s head really hurt. She blinked. Tried again, squeezing her eyes open just that little bit. ‘Lorenzo?’
No answer. But he was here. She was sure of it. She could smell him. She could feel the warmth from the pressure of his hand—he’d been holding it, hadn’t he? ‘Lorenzo?’
‘He’s not here,’ a deep voice answered. ‘I told him to go.’
‘What?’ she wailed. ‘Dad!’
A warm hand touched hers, but it wasn’t the right hand.
‘Sophy?’ Her mother bent over her. ‘Honey, are you okay?’
Had she just sobbed? Just a little bit?
‘He’ll be back. He’ll come back, I’m sure. We just told him to go get some coffee. He hadn’t moved for almost two hours.’
Okay, so she had sobbed. She closed her eyes again. Felt the wet on her cheek and turned her head away, pressing deeper into the pillow. He wouldn’t be back. He didn’t want to be near her family—or any family. ‘Sophy?’
‘Should we get the doctor?’ Her mother’s voice rose.
‘No,’ Sophy croaked. ‘No. I’m okay.’ And with every word she spoke her voice grew stronger. ‘What happened?’
‘You were hit by a car. You ran straight out onto the road.’
‘Were you running away from something, Sophy? Someone?’ her father asked quietly, but she heard the tone, the condemnation, the conclusion.
She shook her head, wincing as it hurt. ‘Not what you think, Dad.’
‘I don’t know what to think, sweet heart.’
Carefully she opened her eyes, looked at her father. ‘Do you remember him?’
‘I remember all of them,’ her father said sombrely. ‘But some stick in your mind more than others.’
The tears welled again, stinging her eyeballs.
‘He was very angry back then. But he had a lot to be angry about.’