Best Friends Better Lovers

Prologue

Prologue

Trevor Scott sat in the too-small plastic and chrome chair of San Francisco’s St. Mary’s Hospital holding his best friend’s hand. Brian Campbell looked like a losing boxer in the tenth round. His complexion was chalky, his lips bruised and swollen. A long, purple gash sewn together with thick, black thread ran in a jagged line from his temple down to his chin.

He was a f*****g mess.

“I want you to take care of Lil for me. I don’t want her going to some goddamn foster home.” Brian’s voice was a strained whisper as he fought for his life.

Trevor tried to ignore the standing IV’s, heart monitor, and other gadgets attached to his childhood buddy like long feelers of robotic insects. The sterile smell of disinfectant made his stomach churn as he took in a shaky breath. “Hey, man, you’re not checking out just yet.” Trevor tried keeping his voice steady. “You can’t leave, Bri, you’re all Lil has left in this world. Hell,” he laughed, “you’re all I have left.”

The Campbells had always been Trevor’s second family. More of a family to him than his own parents had ever been. He’d known them since he was five-years-old when they moved in across the street. He had been there when they’d brought Lillian home from the hospital two days after she was born; she was now a curly-headed, freckle-faced, seventeen-year-old tomboy. When his own folks died six years ago, the Campbells had taken him in, treating him like one of theirs.

He had already lost his natural parents, though there hadn’t been any great love loss there, only horrific memories, but now he had lost his surrogate parents as well. He’d be damned if he was going to lose his best friend.

“Come on, buddy.” Trevor lightly shook Brian’s shoulder when he drifted off, eyes closed, breathing shallow. “Lil needs you.”

Brian moaned in pain, letting out a few guttural coughs. Trevor nearly lost it. “Let me call the nurse; she’ll give you something for the pain.” He stood, unfolding his six-foot-four frame, years ago rail-thin, now muscle-bound, ready to make a run for the door.

Brian’s hold on his hand stopped him. His brown eyes opened wide, though incoherent. “Trevor!” It was a hoarse whisper. “Promise me you’ll take care of Lil.”

“Yeah.” Trevor blinked several times, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand as he fought against the emptiness gathering in his chest. “Of course, I will.” Brian’s grip relaxed.

“Thanks, bud. Now I can go in peace.” His eyelids fluttered shut again. A soft smile curved one side of his swollen mouth.

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Hey, don’t be bummed-out, man. I’m going to heaven.” Brian’s smile looked weak as he said, “Least I hope so.” A laugh sputtered from his chest.

Trevor stood there by the chrome-framed hospital bed, looking down at pristine white sheets and the young man who was approximately the same color. The very man who had been his friend for the better part of their twenty-four years. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. What was he supposed to do? Wait around until the cruel and uncaring hand of death claimed Brian Campbell just as it had Dorothy and Chester Campbell? Just as it had his own folks?

Yes, dammit, that was all he could do. That, and pray. Neither activity brought him any comfort.

Trevor swore softly, clenching his jaw against the storm of pain he felt once again. A pain so intense he had hoped to never again experience such soul-ripping torment. Yet here it was for the third time in only the past twenty-four hours.

When Brian had grown quiet, too quiet, Trevor’s heart jumped into his throat. Seeing the heart monitor still bleeping at regular intervals, he let out a long, shaky sigh and relaxed a little, but was too tense to sit back down.

He was glad Lil wasn’t here to see this. She had flipped out last night after she heard about the car wreck. He’d nearly done the same.

Trevor’s gaze followed Brian’s labored breaths, the hollow rise and fall of his chest. The lousy drunk might add another notch to his belt before the night’s through. Brian looked bad. Real bad.

He and Lil had been invited to go along with them last night, but he’d had to work and Lil wanted to get some extra sleep before pitching at her high school baseball game. She didn’t go to the game. He didn’t go to work. If they had gone to the barbecue last night, they would both likely be dead.

The way he felt right now, he wished he were.

Tonight, Lil would go back home with him. Perhaps she would be staying at his place for the next who-knows-how-long. She’d be eighteen in just a couple of months. Knowing her, she’d double-up her hours at the department store and find a place of her own. Lil was that independent. That damn stubborn.

“Trevor?” Brian frowned as he tried to focus.

“I’m here.” Trevor bent down, closer to Brian’s pulverized face so he could be seen. “What do you need? Just tell me, I’ll get it for you.”

“One more thing.” He gave a short laugh. “I sure have a lot of requests for a man who’s dying, don’t I?”

“Nah. What are friends for?”

“When I go, I want you to have a Corona for me. I hear God doesn’t allow liquor in heaven.” He smiled again, a boyish dimple appearing in his left cheek. A reminder of how young he was. Too damn young to die.

Trevor gave an amused snort. “I’ll tell you what, Bri,” he tried to keep the tears from showing in his voice, “I’ll down an entire case.”

Brian lifted a weak hand in the thumb-up position.

The next thing Trevor heard was the blare of the heart monitor. Felt Brian’s hand slip lifeless from his own. He didn’t have to look up at the howling machine to know it was flat-lining.

Brian Campbell, captain of his college football team, future psychologist, heart-breaker to at least five women a month, his very best friend, was dead.

I am not going to start bawling, Trevor counseled himself, resting his forehead on the side rail of the bed. He forced away all ballistic thoughts, when all he wanted to do right now was go kill the scumbag bastard that did this. But he couldn’t. Violence never solved anything, as he well knew. Absently he ran a finger over the bump on his nose, sliding the appendage under his left eye to wipe away a tear that had spilled.

Besides, he needed a clear head. He had to tell Lil. From this day forward he was now her family—and she his. They were alone in the world. All they had from this moment on was each other.

Before Trevor had a chance to ponder over any more grim thoughts, the door burst open, a froth of white and drab-green pouring through the opening, spilling over to the bed where Brian lay so still.

Somebody pushed him out of the way so they could attempt resuscitation. Voices grew louder as directions were shouted. The whole scene soon reached a crescendo of frustration.

Limbs quaking and brain numb, Trevor turned around and left the medical personnel to their vain efforts of bringing back the dead. As he stumbled down the endless corridor, he headed toward the exit, knowing he would soon be facing the toughest situation he had ever encountered: Telling Lil her brother was dead and that he would be watching over her.

Too damn bad they’d never gotten along.