by Ava Hunt
With Toby’s avoidance of doctors, it was beyond him to argue with his doctor. His breathing slowed and he was finally able to calm his mind. “Thanks, Doc. Sorry for the frantic phone call.”
“It’s not a problem. Actually, since your case is a little more sensitive, why don’t you take down my cell number and call me direct next time.”
She rattled off the number as he jotted it on a notepad. He sat on the stool next to the island and dropped his head into his hand. “Sorry again, Doc.”
“Toby,” she said sternly. “Stop saying you’re sorry. It was perfectly fine of you to call me. I’m here for you as long as you need me. This situation is different than my other patients.”
His shoulders dropped. He should have ended the conversation but there was something in her voice that calmed him.
“Is there something else?” she asked as if reading his mind.
He wanted to tell her how upset he was with Alexa and how she was handling the situation. He couldn’t talk to Stan without hearing how he really thought of her. Estrella wasn’t his therapist though. “No. Nothing at all.”
“Have you noticed anything else that you’re concerned about?”
The dog down the street popped into his head, but he didn’t want to sound crazy for mishearing the distance between him and the dog. Besides, it had nothing to do with his heart.
“Nope.”
“Well, be sure to call me about anything else.”
“Will do, Doc.”
“Bye,” she said then hung up.
He held the phone, holding onto the echo of her voice in his ear like a lifeline.
Relax, you’re not crazy. He touched his chest thinking of the bandages in the bathroom. There was no need for them now.
#
The first few days of work, Toby was treated like a novelty at the office, but soon everyone was all about business. Which was fine by Toby. By keeping busy playing catch-up with his clients, he was able to put his home-life to the side. Alexa hadn’t been sleeping at the house and was vague about needing space. More space. As if she was the only one in the situation about him almost dying. His plan to rekindle their relationship was failing miserably. He had to do something.
A delivery man walked down the hall carrying several bags of food for lunch and an idea popped in Toby’s head. He picked up his phone and sent a quick text, asking Alexa to meet him at the house that night.
He waited for her response while he continued working. He probably checked his phone more times than necessary in five minutes but a short “fine” appeared on his screen almost a half-hour later.
Stan appeared in his doorway, further improving his mood. “How about Waffle House for lunch?”
Toby’s stomach growled even though he’d only ate an hour ago. “Sounds good.”
“Are you allowed to work out this early after getting a new heart?” Stan asked.
Toby took a bite of his hamburger. “I’m not working out yet.”
Stan raised his eyebrows. “You’re eating like an MMA fighter before a match.”
Toby looked down at his three plates of food; hamburger, hash browns, chili bowl and a cheesesteak melt. He had no other excuse than, “I’m hungry.”
Stan glanced around the room uneasily. “Damn, bud, you should slow down or you’re going to jump back on that list.”
Toby put his food down and wiped his face. He couldn’t explain to his friend that his increased appetite was completely normal. He’d called Estrella about it the night before. She assured him that his body was working hard to recover. “If I start to get fat, I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
Stan grinned. “Damn right I will. On the other hand, maybe I’d be the more attractive friend if you did get bigger.”
“Can I run something by you?” Toby asked.
“Sure.”
“It’s about Alexa.” Toby sensed Stan was trying to hold back and eye roll or possibly an overdramatic groan, so he continued speaking before he saw or heard it. “I’m going to do a special dinner for her tonight. We’ve been off a bit lately.” Stan snorted and Toby ignored it. “I’m going to get takeout from Giovanni’s but I’m wondering what else I can do.”
“Other than dump the broad?”
Toby glared at his friend. “I’m being serious.”
Stan opened his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Okay. Had to get that out of me. Does she like flowers?”
“She’s allergic.”
“Chocolate?”
“Her diet is allergic.”
Stan sat back in his seat, contemplating his next words. “My wife likes simple. Candles and wine. I have a feeling Alexa isn’t so simple. So maybe do the candles and wine with an accessory or two.”
Toby knew what he meant by accessory. Thinking about it, Toby was known for giving Alexa gifts on the regular. She was definitely due for something and he knew exactly what would cheer her up.
“Thanks, Stan.”
“Whatever, man,” Stan said with a wink.
After work, Toby went to the jewelry store. The sales associate helped him pick out her favorite ‘I’m sorry’ necklace and earrings set. He didn’t have much to be sorry for, except having a heart defect. He didn’t get into it though. He found himself distracted by the overuse of her perfume. It stung his nose so much that he had to excuse his sneezing for allergies. He tried to hold his breath as much as possible without offending her.
When paying for the jewelry, the associate swiped the card three times. “It keeps saying declined.” Her cheeks were bright red as if she were the one with the bad credit card.
He checked if the card was expired but it wasn’t. He handed her his emergency credit card and it went through without trouble.
The woman visibly sighed with relief.
He took his package and left the store, stopping at a nearby bench and taking a seat. He opened his bank mobile app and checked the statement from his credit card. He scrolled through the list of charges and almost dropped the phone. Thousands had been charged to his account over the last few weeks. Namaste Spa. Chez Pierre. Isabelle’s Jewelry.
Immediately he thought his credit card had been stolen. He recognized the name of the French restaurant. He’d taken Alexa there months before. She had mentioned she’d been getting massages lately too. His skin prickled again and a low rumble resonated in his throat. He didn’t want to believe it, but with her being distant, he knew she was doing something with her time. While he’d been dying, she went off and spent his hard-earned money. Up to that point he’d never blinked at any of the charges she made. She enjoyed getting her nails done and shopping. He made enough to give her that. But this was too much. It crossed a line that he never imagined she would.
He fisted the bag in his hand and shot up from the bench. Heat flushed through his body and for the first time since the surgery he felt his new heart pounding in his chest. He stalked to his car, threw the bag into the passenger seat and sped away.
#
The electronic dashboard of the treadmill touched six miles before Toby heard Alexa calling for him. Adrenaline had steadily coursed through him as the day progressed and he intended for the run to calm his mind and rid himself of excess energy, though it had done the opposite. He was even more pumped up than he had been. He turned the machine off and dried the sweat from his face with a towel. He waited a few seconds for his breathing to slow. He wanted to go into the conversation clear-headed. Though his blood was on the boiling point.
Alexa stood in the living room, her mouth pinched as if she were sucking on a lemon. Her fingers pinched the stem of a glass of wine. “Since you didn’t come out right away, I thought I would get started. What’s for dinner?” She looked him up and down, her eyes narrowing. “You could at least have showered before I got here.”
He crossed the room into the kitchen. “Nice to see you too.” He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water, gulping it down in seconds.
Alexa’s heels clicked ove
r the tile towards him.
He paused where he was, knowing her Kryptonite was anytime she was ignored.
When he turned around, she was leaning over the bags of prepared food from Giovanni’s, her cleavage clearly visible from the micro shirt she wore. Was that a new purchase too? She glanced at him, fully aware of what she was doing.
A warmth spread through him. A part of him had the urge to bend her over the island and take her right then and there.
The clink of the wine glass on the marble counter, broke his concentration. He was thinking with the wrong part of his body. He needed to focus on the conversation at hand, for now.
She lifted one of the containers from the bag. “This looks delicious. I hope you remembered to the tiramisu.”
“It’s in the refrigerator.” He crossed the kitchen to stand at her side. “First I want to talk about my credit card.”
“What about it?” she asked sharply.
Tension pulled at his muscles. She was grating at his nerves. “What about it? How about you maxing my credit card with frivolous charges?”
She forced a smile. “You never complained before.”
He inhaled sharply. “I never complained before because I was with you when we went out to eat. I did couples massages with you.” he stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. He smelled her shampoo and perfume. The expensive ones from France he bought her for Christmas. “You used to ask. I only found out because I was getting you a gift.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “A gift?”
He leaned away from her. Was that all she cared about? Had she always been like this? Self-absorbed. Greedy.
Speaking of greedy.
He spoke through gritted teeth. “You maxed out my credit card a week ago. How have you been paying for anything?”
She tugged at the hem of her shirt that barely reached her mid-drift. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is my damn business!” His fist slammed on the island. “It’s my fucking money, Alexa. You do shit all day and I’ve never complained. I almost died. Died! And you’re off fucking around with your airhead friends without a care in the world.”
Alexa skittered backwards, her foot catching on the leg of the stool. She started to go down when Toby lunged and grabbed her arm, pulling her upright.
A pained squeal broke out of her. “Let go of me!”
He let go of her, unaware of what her problem was. They were arguing but he didn’t want her to crack her skull on the floor.
She grabbed at her arm, coddling it like it was broken. “You scratched me!”
Four red lines marred her milky white skin on her arm. He looked at his hand, his nails were longer than usual. He hadn’t even noticed they had grown. “I didn’t mean to. You were falling.”
“I’m perfectly able to walk by myself.” Her ankles wobbled as she walked on her six-inch heels.
Toby stared at his hand. His nails were sharp and pointed at the tip. How were they longer than they were seconds ago? What the hell?
“I’m out of here,” Alexa said, shuffling to the door. She’d taken off those stilts for heels. “You can talk to me when you’re not so violent.”
That word stopped him in his tracks. Never in a million years would he hurt a woman on purpose. Tonight he’d lost control with the woman he supposedly loved and hurt her. He allowed her to leave. And when the door slammed, it rattled the house and his body, straight to his core.
The sound of her car speeding off into the distance vibrated in his ears. Even though the air conditioning was running, making the hairs on his arm stand up in the low breeze, he needed fresh air. He opened the window in the living room and pressed his face against the screen. The sticky night air clung to his face. For some reason the heat outside calmed him instead of the cooler air inside. He dragged a chair across the tile floor and slumped into it, still huddled by the window. Chirping crickets and cicada’s filled his ears, their calls loud enough to block his brain from what happened with Alexa.
He allowed himself to be pissed at her. What woman who claimed to love someone would abandon them in their time of need? And then take all of their money without a single excuse? She might as well laughed in his face. She had no remorse.
Toby rubbed his forehead, the heat finally subsiding. Maybe he was getting sick. He experienced a lot of ups and downs since the surgery. Stan might have been right about him doing things too quickly. He was almost moving on instinct instead of with his rational mind.
He looked at his hands again and nearly jumped out of his skin. His nails were cut to the quick again like he always had them. The nasty nail biting habit had been with him since childhood. He swore his nails were longer ten minutes ago. Instead of being sick, maybe he was losing his mind. He thought about calling Estrella again, but thought better of it. He’d eaten like a ravaged animal that day and then worked out harder than he should have. His body was bound to play tricks on him. A good night’s rest was what he needed. He would figure out the rest in the morning.
Chapter Seven
Alexa didn’t return the next day. Toby left messages without any response back. At work, his normally focused mind was all over the place. His boss had to ask if he was alright. A tell-tale sign that his inward feelings were affecting him outwardly. During a meeting he was caught staring at his nails, swearing they were growing right before his eyes. They weren’t. And he suffered through manicure jokes for the duration of the meeting.
He and Stan ended up at the bar until midnight. Toby wasn’t ready to go home to an empty house. Stan was kind enough not to delve too deep into Alexa but he couldn’t hold back a few digs. It had irritated Toby, but he said nothing, knowing his friend wasn’t wrong about her all the time. He didn’t tell her about the credit cards. It was his fault he’d hadn’t been checking his statements and he’d sort it himself. He didn’t want to give Stan any more fuel against Alexa.
When he finally got to sleep, all he did was toss and turn, dreaming about his fingers turning into long, sharp claws and attacking everyone around him. His victims were nameless dream-people but it felt like he was tearing through his family and friends.
At 1:30 in the morning, his phone buzzed, waking him with a start. The covers were wrapped around him like a mummy and it took him a few minutes to untangle his sweaty body from the fabric. He’d slept in his bed for the first time in a while. The lit phone screen was a beacon in the pitch-black room. He’d spared no money when it came to black-out curtains. Though the moon must have been full that night since he could see every piece of furniture in the room. His eyes must have adjusted over the years.
“We’re done.” Alexa’s text said.
Toby rubbed his eyes, thinking he was still dreaming. The two words laughed at him from the screen.
“What the hell?” he grumbled. He called her and it went straight to voicemail. That prickly heat stung his skin and he hopped out of bed and pressed her number again. He did it over and over, each time adding an extra beat to his new heart. How dare she break up with him through text. She spent all his money and was a total bitch when he was in the hospital. It wasn’t over until he said it was over. He puffed short bursts of breath attempting to gain control. His extremities tingled as if all his blood was rushing to his new heart.
Calm down or you’re going to have a heart attack. He wasn’t sure the prevalence of heart issues after a transplant but he didn’t want to test it.
He flew off the bed and headed to the kitchen, needing something to calm him down. His hands shook as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He filled it with tap water and guzzled it down. He drank three more glasses before stopping. His stomach churned. He should have drank more water in between beers. His insides quivered and he had a feeling he was going to puke. He leaned over the sink and dry-heaved.
When the heaving stopped, a growl moved up his throat and he wrung his hands together.
A deep stinging cut through his hand. He looked down and realized he had scr
atched himself. He stumbled backwards, holding his hands in front of him. The long fingernails were back, longer than they were with Alexa. They protruded at least an inch from his normal length. His face tingled and he tentatively pressed his finger against his face. Where there had been stubble that morning, now there were thick tufts of hair. He turned to the slider door to the porch and saw a thin reflection of himself. He rushed over and saw himself clearer.
Was he still dreaming? He slapped his cheeks a few times, avoiding scratching himself. No, not a dream. Black spots filled his vision and he doubled over. He gasped for air, feeling as if a truck pressed on his chest. His body temperature spiked and he cried out when an intense pain ripped through him. He jerked the slider door open and collapsed on the stone patio. The night air filled his lungs, bringing with it the overwhelming scent of grass and dirt. For some reason those things calmed him as the pain subsided. He laid on the warm patio stones, afraid to move. God, how much did he drink? He was hallucinating and in pain. Though the rational part of him remembered that his strange nail growth had happened when he hadn’t drank a drop of alcohol.
“You’re fine. You’re fine. Calm down, Toby,” he said aloud, hoping he could calm himself down. A shudder moved through him. What if this was his body rejecting the heart? Estrella mentioned that possibility. Maybe he was the 5%? The thought was accompanied by another wave of pain. He closed his eyes and dug his teeth into his lips until it subsided.
He forced himself up from the ground and stood still, waiting for something to happen.
He didn’t have to wait long.
This time the pain rocked him to his core. It was as if every cell in body was being pulled in all directions. To steady himself, he reached for one of the patio chairs, realizing too late his fingers were numb. They didn’t grip the chair as he intended and he fell forward, crashing into the table. The glass cracked beneath him. He moved away from the table, not wanting to be marred by the shards of glass that were destined to be embedded in his body with any more weight. He sunk to the ground, curling himself into a fetal position. A whimper escaped his lips. What was happening to him? Please, please God make it stop.