Starting Point (Doomsday Preppers)

by Elle Aycart

  They parked in front of the hotel that, according to Sean, had the best nightclub in town. They walked inside, and the second his woman took her coat off, all eyes were on her. Shit, this was going to be a fucking long night.

  “I’ve missed this,” she sighed. She made her way to the bar and ordered a tequila shot. “Fuck you, lemonade!” she shouted, lifting her glass. She downed her first shot and signaled for the bartender to pour her another.

  Alec was not big on tequila, and today he was also driving, so he ordered a nonalcoholic beer. He turned to Megan, but she’d already gulped her second tequila shot. A slice of lemon in her mouth, she was making her way to the dance floor.

  After just one song, she came back. “Need more booze,” she said and flagged the bartender. “Hit me, gorgeous.”

  Alec went for calm. “Megan, aren’t you drinking too much too fast?”

  “Don’t be a party pooper, Bonehead.”

  Her drinking continued, and the more she drank, the more belligerent she became. Every time she went to the dance floor, more men followed her back to the bar, staring from a distance. That was because of Alec; otherwise they would have clustered around her, buying her more of those damn tequila shots.

  Oddly enough, she wasn’t getting drunk. If she’d passed out, it would have made matters easier—he could just throw her over his shoulders and leave.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Alec whispered furiously as the bartender brought her a drink from someone at the other end of the bar. The ass even had the balls to wave at her.

  “I don’t think so.” Megan smiled at the guy and, raising the glass in salute, drank it in one swallow. “I’m having fun. I’m allowed. I’ve been hibernating for the last couple of weeks.”

  He didn’t know this Meg. Although she wasn’t openly flirting with other guys, she wasn’t discouraging their advances either. Most men quickly became afraid of Alec and moved away, but the guy at the end of the bar was different. In no time, he’d worked his way to Megan’s side. “Wanna dance?” the asshole asked.

  “No,” Alec answered for her.

  “He didn’t ask you.” Megan turned to the asshole. “Sure.”

  That did it.

  “We’re leaving,” Alec decreed, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her toward the exit.

  She wrenched away. “Because you say so? Maybe everyone in NoName is scared of you, but I’m not one of them. Two weeks is more than enough for me, thank you very much. Small-town America is great, but it gets old. It’s time I moved on. Lots of places to see, lots of people to meet.”

  “What the fuck are you saying? Who the fuck am I to you, just an item on your bucket list?”

  She didn’t answer right away. The look on her face said it all, though. Yes, he’d been an item on her bucket list, and she’d checked him off. She was moving on—and breaking his heart in the process. “I was very clear from the beginning, wasn’t I? Don’t look at me like that. You got to fuck me. What else did you want?”

  She knew what he wanted. He’d been very open about it. “I want you. You, heart included, not just your body.”

  Her expression was hard. “Not on the table. Never was.”

  “Why? Because you’re sick? I told you—”

  “How I choose to spend my time is my business and mine alone. I want to live life to the fullest. I gave you the two weeks you asked for. You and NoName were fun while it lasted, but now we’re through.”

  He’d never seen Megan this resolute. She turned around and walked toward the asshole.

  So this was why she’d insisted on keeping it casual? Why she’d never admitted they had a relationship, or spoken to him about her feelings?

  The asshole said something in her ear, and she laughed. He offered his hand, she took it, and they headed to the dance floor.

  That was it for Alec. He couldn’t watch anymore. It was clear Megan had moved on. He couldn’t even say she was drunk, because she moved with confident grace and her speech was unslurred. Maybe she’d just needed liquid courage to put him in his place.

  Such an irony. From the beginning, she’d insisted she wasn’t a charity case. And she wasn’t. He’d been the charity case. He’d followed her around like a puppy, dick and heart in hand, ready to serve her. Begging her to love him. Imposing himself on her.

  No more. Unable and unwilling to see Megan with someone else, he turned around and left the place. If that was what she wanted, he wasn’t going to get in her way.

  Megan managed to maintain the charade long enough for Alec to storm out of the club. Thank God, because she couldn’t stand it any longer. A minute more and she would have broken.

  The guy in front of her—Larry or Harry, she wasn’t sure—was getting handsy, trying to grab her by the waist and bring her against him. His mouth was dangerously close to hers, so she turned her face away. She couldn’t even muster a smile. She lifted one finger. “Give me a second. Bathroom’s calling.”

  She made it to the bathroom, her heart in her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She closed herself in a stall and leaned against the door. It was done.

  She knew how important trust was for Alec. If there was something he couldn’t forgive, it was breaking trust. Betrayal. Unfaithfulness was something Alec would never put up with. It had shattered her heart to speak to him the way she had, and all but killed her to leave with that guy. Every cell of her body had rebelled against it. She’d wanted to throw herself at Alec, hug him, and ask him to take her away from that place.

  She had to be strong, though. She had to shatter any image Alec had of her. Only then would he let her go. Yes, he would hate her, but that was preferable to the alternative.

  Megan knew Alec was the one for her. He was the one she wanted to run to for comfort, for pleasure, for fighting shit out. Whatever was going on with her, she wanted him by her side. And that was why he had to leave her—because she was so in love with him, she could never walk away from him of her own volition. And they had to part ways. She wanted him to have a life. He didn’t have to suffer with her.

  By now she was crying a river, something she hadn’t done since Jess died. Crying was useless. It solved nothing and it was a waste of energy. She’d accepted her lot—or so she’d thought. Yet now she couldn’t stop bawling her eyes out.

  So much so that someone knocked on the stall door. “Whoever he is,” a woman’s voice said, “he’s not worth it, honey.”

  But he was. Alec was so worth it.

  She shut her eyes. It didn’t help; his face was stamped on the inside of her eyelids. How hurt he’d looked. The warmth in his caramel eyes had gone out like a light, leaving them cold, inert. He’d never looked at her like that before. It had sliced so deep.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in the bathroom, or how long she’d been sobbing, for that matter, but it was about time to pull up her big girl panties. Alec would be long gone by now. She’d ditch Harry-Larry and check herself into a motel. Her stuff was still at his cabin, but whatever. She’d get herself another five-hundred-buck car. The rest was just clothes and romance novels, equally easy to replace.

  She came out of the stall, washed her face, tidied her raccoon eyes, and sneaked out of the club, barely keeping her sniffles in check. So far so good.

  As she looked for a cab, she felt someone approach at her back. “Where you going, doll? You owe me a dance.” Harry-Larry was breathing down her neck. She tried to take a step away, but he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. “I invested a lot of drinks in you, sweetheart. Time to make good.”

  Asshole. “I’ll pay you for the drinks. Will that cover it?” she said, taking a hundred-dollar bill from her purse and offering it to him. “I need to leave now.”

  “Why the hurry? The night is young and—arghhh!”

  Before she could react, Harry-Larry was yanked off her and shoved into the wall, whimpering, one arm wrenched behind his back. Alec crushed his face against the bricks. “Listen to me carefully. Walk aw
ay. I’ve watched you touch my woman. You are still alive. Take that as a win and leave before I fucking lose it.” Alec’s voice was dangerously deep and dangerously steady. He was enraged. Megan had never seen him like that.

  Harry-Larry caught on very fast. He nodded. “Sorry, man.” Alec released him and stepped back. Holding his wrenched arm to his chest, Harry-Larry made himself scarce.

  Alec stared at her for a long second, his gaze forbidding.

  “Alec. I—”

  He walked up to her, cupped the back of her head, and shut her up with a hard kiss. All his turbulent emotions seemed to pour through it. He was beyond pissed. “You are mine. You can forget about pushing me away because it’s not going to work. Now, can you tell me what the fuck you were trying to do in there?”

  For a moment, she considered lying to him, continuing the act she’d been trying to pull off at the bar, but she was emotionally exhausted. “I wanted you to dump me. I’m trying to spare you.”

  “Spare me from what? Loving you? You’re way too late. I love you. And you love me, I know you do.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want this for you.”

  That seemed to piss him off even more. “What? I don’t deserve someone to love?”

  “You don’t deserve someone you’ll lose!” she yelled.

  He took a step back and linked his fingers behind his neck, sighing exasperated. “I know; you’re dying. Big fucking deal. We’re all dying. That’s no reason to give up on living. A fucking flowerpot could fall on my head tomorrow and kill me. I told you, stop making excuses.”

  “How many people do you know whose heads have been smashed by flowerpots?” Or had been struck by lightning, or any improbable shit like that? It didn’t matter—she still knew ten times as many people who’d died from cancer. You might say it had happened to nearly every person she knew. It was far too easy for someone like Alec to speak in hypothetical terms.

  “Shut up and get into the car.”

  She obeyed. Besides, she was too damned tired to fight him. They drove in silence until they were near the cabin.

  “Were you ever going to let me go through with it?” she whispered as he parked in front.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I was going back to that bar to kill that motherfucker and drag you home. It took me a while, what with seeing red and all, to understand what you were doing. And why.”

  “I don’t want you to be heartbroken when I die.” Breakups, no matter how painful, were eventually forgotten. Death, not so much.

  “So you decided to break my heart before that? Great plan, boss. I’m in love with you, and we’re in this together.”

  “We don’t have to be.” She tried to say something else but was silenced by his hard gaze.

  “We are in this together,” he insisted, biting the words out. “Denying that is going to piss me off even more. Given the stunt you pulled today, you don’t want to piss me off. I’m where I want to be, and I won’t have it any other way. Oh, and so you know, you’re marrying me.”

  “Am I?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely. If for no other reason than to make it up to me for what you just put me through.”

  She chuckled. “You’re guilt-tripping me into marriage?”

  “Whatever works, boss.” He looked at his watch. “Half an hour.”

  “Are you… leaving?”

  His glare was forbidding. “Go inside and change into my thermals.”

  She did it. When she came back into the living room, he wrapped her in a thick quilt and lifted her in his arms. “Grab that bottle of wine,” he ordered, walking into the kitchen.

  She looked around until she spotted a bottle on the counter. “What? Why?”

  “On second thought, forget the wine. You’ve had enough alcohol for a night.”

  That was true, not that it had done squat for her. She’d wanted to dull the pain with booze, but for once in her life, it hadn’t worked.

  “You almost missed something you love. Something you didn’t get to experience properly last time.”

  When they stepped out of the cabin, she saw that a star shower had started. Jesus, she’d totally forgotten about it. He sat on an Adirondack chair with her on his lap.

  “We could turn out all the lights and watch from inside,” Megan suggested.

  “You love the cold, don’t you?”

  He kept stating the things she loved but leaving out the one she loved most. “I love you, Alec.”

  He brushed his lips against hers and kissed her tenderly. He tucked the hair away from her face and kissed her forehead. “I know, babe. Why are your eyes so red?”

  She shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “I might have cried a bit in the bathroom after you left.”

  “I’m so sorry. I never should have left.”

  She burrowed into his embrace.

  The star shower was in full swing. They watched in silence. God, it felt so good, so right to be in his arms. She could almost forget all the shit waiting for them. Almost.

  “Alec?” she whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t want to die staring at a hospital ceiling or an IV drip, surrounded by faces full of pity.”

  “You won’t, baby. If you die, you’ll die staring at me, and it won’t be pity on my face. It will be love.”

  “And pain.”

  “I’m a soldier. I’ve lived with pain all my life. I can handle pain. Bring it on. Do you know what I haven’t had until now? Love. Good luck trying to get me to give that up. Wherever you are, whatever your decision in regard to your future, I’ll be with you. Trial or no trial—it doesn’t matter.”

  “You don’t need to be. I’d rather you weren’t. I’ve told you, dying is not as clean and sterile as most people think,” she warned.

  “I’ve seen people die, boss.”

  She bet he had, but for better or for worse, soldiers in battle usually died fast. Cancer patients wasted away, sometimes for years, slowly becoming shadows of what they’d been. “I don’t want you to end up being my caregiver.”

  He forced her to look at him. “I’m your man, not your caregiver, but I’ll always take care of you. The same way I’ll kick your butt when you need me to. You don’t abandon the people you love. You carry them when they can’t walk on their own two feet, because they will carry you when your strength fails. You keep going and never give up. Ever. That’s what it means to be alive. Besides, we haven’t yet explored all possibilities. The clinical trial could save your life.”

  For the first time since she’d heard about the trial, she had the courage to utter the words. “What if it doesn’t work, Alec?”

  “What if it works, boss?”

  Her voice broke. “I can’t go through it again. I gave it all I had. For a fucking decade. It wasn’t enough.”

  He brushed her tears with his thumbs. “Yes, you can go through it again. You have me now. We can beat this shit together.”

  “It will get so ugly. You have no clue how ugly.” The vomiting, the diarrheas. The deliriums. Whatever new shit was waiting for her this time.

  “I’m tough. I can take it. And so can you. You’re damn strong.”

  She snorted. “I’m not, Bonehead. I only pretend to be strong.”

  “Only the strong ones can pretend.”

  She wasn’t sure about that.

  “Wait,” he said, as if he were only just realizing the implication of her question. “Does this mean you’re willing to accept treatment?”

  She shrugged, probably red as a frigging tomato. He was adamant in staying with her until the end. She might as well try to delay that end for as long as possible.

  He kissed her all over her face and hugged her tight. “That’s my boss. Tomorrow we’re calling your doc. Now let’s enjoy the star shower properly. No freezing to death this time.”

  They were finally standing in front of the hospital. They just had to cross the street and walk in. It had taken a damn long time to get there, and he wasn’
t referring to the trip to Seattle. No, they were still in Minnesota, at the Mayo Clinic, where they’d been referred for the clinical trial. It was the emotional journey that had lasted forever.

  He looked at her staring at the massive building. The traffic lights changed, but she didn’t move a muscle. People rushed around them, busy and oblivious. Then the lights turned red again.

  Alec reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. Her little hand, so frail looking, held his strongly. Her eyes, though, never strayed from the building.

  “Do you want to go home?” he heard himself ask, horrified at his own question.

  The silence was deafening. They were standing in a roar of traffic and he couldn’t hear a damn thing aside from the pumping of his heart and the blood pulsing in his ears.

  She clutched his hand even harder. Then she shook her head, a feeble smile on her face. “Together?”

  “Together.”

  As much as he was dying to throw her over his shoulder and rush her to the doc, he was unwilling to push her further. It was her decision.

  It might have been mere seconds, but for him it felt like a fucking eternity. Finally, she unlocked her knees and, pulling him with her, walked forward.

  They crossed the threshold of the hospital together.

  Epilogue

  Ten months later

  “I’m sick and tired of this,” Alec grunted, lying carefully in the hospital bed with her.

  “I told you it was going to get rough.”

  And they weren’t even done with the damned clinical trial. She was still alive, that was the good news. The cancer had stopped progressing. The bad news was that the side effects had been a total bitch.

  “I don’t mean that. I’m talking about fighting everyone off so I can stay by your side all the time. If one more nurse tells me I’m not allowed in when you’re having an episode, I’m going to explode.”