“This is Brielle.”
She listens to the doctor on the other end of the phone. She swears she can feel the blood stop pumping to her heart as it begins to break. This is the call she knew was coming. It was bound to happen—everyone knew it—but she still wasn’t prepared for it. The phone slips from her hand and bounces off the counter, yet she can’t manage to do anything but stand there.
“What’s wrong with her?” she hears the stranger ask Lyle, but she is too busy replaying the doctor’s words over in her head to hear Lyle’s response. All she feels is the numb truth wash over her. She hasn’t felt it since that horrible day, three years ago, when two officers showed up on her porch with news of her husband’s death.
She barely feels Lyle put a supportive hand on her back and give her a glass of water. She takes a slow sip and tells herself this isn’t the end. That the doctor is mistaken. It hits her that it’s the very same lie she told herself when those officers showed up at her door. It’s a mistake. It isn’t my husband. It wasn’t a mistake then, just like it isn’t now. Her precious boy is dying.
“What did he say, Elle? How’s little Leo?” Lyle asks with concern dripping from every word.
SIX
ELLIOT’S HEAD SNAPS up at the name as he takes in the woman and man on the other side of the bar. She can’t manage even a single word in response. She just nods, clearly affected by whatever was said on her phone call.
“Talk to me, Elle. What did he say?”
“It’s no use, Lyle. His blood…they can’t find a donor, and…and…it’s too late. I’m going to lose my boy.” She sobs in the man’s shirt.
“I knew you shouldn’t have come in today,” the man breathes out as he pulls her in for a hug.
“He seemed like he was feeling better, and I need the money,” she whispers.
“Don’t be so prideful, Elle. I’ll give you the damn money, and you know it. Isn’t he on the donor list? You never know when they’ll get a match.” Lyle tries unsuccessfully to calm her down.
“He’s been on the list for a year, and his blood, it’s too rare. Only six percent have AB negative like my son, and if that wasn’t rare enough, he needs a certain antibody that is rarely produced. He’s taken a rapid turn, and the doctor said they don’t think there’s a chance he will make it through the week.” She sobs.
It can’t be. There’s no freaking way. Elliot must be losing his mind. The words ‘six percent’ and ‘AB negative’ roll around in his mind, flashing him back to his first year of med school.
Elliot winces when Jenny pokes at his vein like she’s stabbing an orange.
“Jesus Christ, Jenny. Easy, will ya?”
“Oh, calm down, Elliot. It’s not my fault your veins keep rolling. Sit still. I’ve almost…there. Got it.”
He watches as the blood fills the tube. Then she removes the needle and places a cotton ball secured with tape on his arm.
“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” She preens as she puts a drop of his blood on the slide and places it under the microscope.
“What the hell?”
“What?” He worries as she frowns down at the sample.
“There’s something off about your blood, Elliot.”
“What to do mean, off?”
“Well, just what I said, off. There’s something different about yours compared to the others…”
Lyle shouting at everyone to leave so he can close the bar pulls Elliot from his flashback.
“Come on, buddy. I’m sorry, but you’ve got to go,” Lyle is saying to him.
Leo’s parting words come back to Elliot now, and he laughs with disbelief, repeating them.
“Never leave a man behind. It’s a good day to be alive.”
“What did you say?” the now frail-looking female bartender snaps at him, looking like she’s seen a ghost.
“Huh?”
“What did you just say?” Elle repeats.
“Oh, I was just remembering something someone said to me earlier…It’s a good day to be alive.”
She stares at him with disbelief and so much grief it almost cripples him. He assumes she’s upset due to his lack of feeling at her declaration that her son is dying, and he’s about to set her straight when her words stop him dead in his tracks.
“That’s the last thing my husband said to me before he was…” She swallows hard and takes a deep breath, like it hurts her to even say it out loud. “Before he was killed overseas,” she finally manages to get out. “‘Don’t you worry about me, Elle girl, I can’t leave a man behind, so I’m going to go in and save him. It’s a good day to be alive,’” she repeats as tears flood her eyes. “That’s the last thing Leo ever said before they shipped him home in a body bag.”
“Leo?” Elliot feels his veins turn to ice as his dinner creeps back up his throat. “No way! No freaking way in hell,” he murmurs to himself as the very same words come back to him from just hours earlier. “I’m a Navy SEAL. We never leave a man behind.”
Both Elle and Lyle stare at him as if he has grown a second head. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him if he had.
“Do you have a picture of Leo…your husband?” Elliott finally manages to ask through his disbelief.
“Come on, dude. We gotta go. Her kid is sick,” Lyle reasons. But it’s almost as if Elle can feel it too, the bond, the strange feeling that has Elliot breaking out in sweat and questioning his sanity.
“Hold on, Lyle,” she says as she grips her necklace and flicks open the locket. “He’s right here, and the one next to it is my son, Leo Junior.” Her voice breaks on the last word.
Tears fill Elliot’s eyes as none other than Leo the freaking Navy SEAL’s sparkling brown eyes stare back at him. The same eyes that sat next to him and listened without judgment.
“You said he died. When was this?” he is finally able to choke out.
“Three years ago. It was right before our son was diagnosed with Severe Aplastic Anemia. He had just gotten stateside when they discovered one of their guys got captured behind enemy lines.”
“You didn’t want him to go back.” Elliot doesn’t phrase it as a question, because he just heard the story that very morning, but it’s lost on Elle.
“No, I didn’t. Our son had been acting strange, lethargic for the last few months, and I was worried about him…” She trails off, leaving the obvious left unsaid.
Elliot quickly runs through everything he knows about Severe Aplastic Anemia, or SAA, as it’s commonly known.
“So, his bone marrow doesn’t make enough blood cells for his body,” Elliot says, knowing exactly what is wrong with her son. He lost a patient to this very disease his first year of residency, and it crushed him.
“That’s right,” she says, making a face that shows how clearly shocked she is that he know’s what she’s talking about.
“He needs a bone marrow and blood transplant?” Elliot asks, already knowing the answer.
“He does. But his blood type is so rare, and he needs a certain—”
“Antigen.” Elliot finishes her sentence for her.
“Yes, that’s right…but how do you know that?”
Elliot shakes his head, trying to clear it of the Twilight Zone vibes he’s had ever since he got off the plane yesterday.
“Because I have a rare blood type also, and I’d bet my life—and your son’s—that I’m a match and have the antigen he needs.” The awe and shock Elliot feels punctuate every word he says.
Elle stands frozen, staring at him, her eyes alighting in hope, yet he can still see the skepticism in them as well.
“I can see your heart and head are fighting right now. Everything I’ve said is the truth.” He reassures her with what he hopes is a comforting smile, even though he feels just as off-balanced as she looks.
“The doctor told me unless there was a miracle, my son wouldn’t make it. Could you be his miracle?” Elliot senses she’s asking herself more than him, so he doesn’t respond. He can only imagin
e what she sees as she looks at him, taking in his haunted eyes that have lived through too much, and his face that looks deceptively young enough not to have actually lived half of what he has.
“Bu-but…how?” This time the question is directed to him, so he answers with the only truth he is absolutely certain about, words she can’t possibly understand, but he hopes she will know to be true.
“Because your husband couldn’t leave a man behind.”
EPILOGUE
(One year later)
LEO MADE IT through BUDS, the hardest training of his life, to become a Navy SEAL. He then spent two months in captivity before finally succumbing, so he is no stranger to torture. However, standing here across the street, leaning against a tree and watching his family from a distance is probably the worst torture he’s ever experienced. The very sweetest kind of torture.
He takes in everything about his sweet boy, cataloging every last detail to store up for an eternity. He watches as little Leo throws his head back in laughter while he plays with his friends, his cheeks looking full and rosy for the first time in a very long time.
He moves his gaze to his wife, who smiles sweetly as she takes a present from a woman’s hands and places it over at the gift table. Her cheeks are also rosy, but what brings him the most joy is that the worry lines and deep bags under her eyes have faded.
Leo feels him before he sees him, swallowing the chuckle when he hears him stumble, almost dropping the gift he holds. When Elliot whispers a curse and takes a deep breath, Leo lets out the laugh.
“No, you’re not crazy, Elliot…or dead. I’m just saying my goodbyes.”
“To them or me?” Elliot asks as he finds his bearings then joins Leo against the tree. That small act alone brings a massive amount of deja vu along with it.
“Both, in a way, but you’re the only one who will ever know I was here.”
• • •
“Why me?” Elliot asks on an exhale, so softly the untrained ear would have missed it. It’s the question that has been burning in the back of his mind for a full year now. He told himself if it wasn’t for his rare blood, Leo never would have chosen him…but there was a small voice in the back of his head that told him he was wrong. That Leo cared. The way he sat with Elliot for hours in silence then listened to his burden. Those lost hours were crucial to his son, yet he spent them with a stranger anyway.
Leo tears his gaze away from his family, even though Elliot can tell it costs him greatly to do so. But when his soft brown eyes reach Elliot’s, it brings a calming effect better than any drug.
“Because you needed me. Maybe even more than my son did.”
The eye contact was hard enough, but when Leo places a steady hand on Elliot’s shoulder, he about crumbles. He’s real, he’s here…he cares.
“My time is just about up, Elliot, and I won’t…I can’t come back.”
Leo gives it a beat while Elliot process that information. Even though he thought Leo had been gone all along, maybe even a figment of his imagination, he feels the loss greatly.
“I’m proud of you, not just for what you did for my Leo, for that…well, I’ll never have enough words or gratitude for what you gave him.” Leo pauses, and Elliot watches him as he pulls himself together. “But for what you have made of your life.”
“I’m not a doctor,” Elliot needlessly points out.
“I’ve told you before, doctors aren’t the only ones who save lives. Researchers can be argued to be even more important. It’s their information doctors use to save lives, isn’t it?”
Elliot tries to shrug, but the pride he feels at Leo’s words fills his heart. Saving Leo’s son’s life brought purpose and passion into Elliot’s life again. It also gave him something he’s never had before…family.
As if Leo read his mind again, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Once Elle adopts someone, they’re hers for life. You’ve brought just as much happiness to them as they have to you. Keep one eye on that boss of hers for me, though, will ya? Make sure he treats her well?” It’s a joke, but as it leaves his lips, Elliot can see Leo still feels a pain in his heart at the idea of her ending up with someone else.
“She doesn’t know it yet, but letting you into their lives was only her first step to healing. Letting Lyle into her life and heart romantically will finish the process.” The pain written across Leo’s brow is evident, so Elliot offers him the only reassurance he can.
“I’ll watch over them for you. They’re all I have,” Elliot vows, and Leo nods.
“Thank you for not taking that final leap,” Leo croaks out finally. “I'm going to be gone soon. I’ve felt the pull for the last few hours, but it’s increasing now. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am before I left.”
“Thanks for taking yours…on me, I mean. I know what leap of faith you had to take, to trust your family to someone so broken.”
“That’s the funny thing about brokenness, Elliot. The pieces can be used to make amazing things. In welding, when you solder two broken pieces together, it is stronger than ever before.”
Elliot turns his gaze back from the birthday party to reply when he is met with only empty space and chills all over his body.
“Goodbye, Leo. I’ll watch over them,” he whispers into the void, drying his eyes on his sweater before he joins his new family and the rest of the festivities.
THE END
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SPY’S HEART
* * *
A Fantasy & Fairytales Story
M. LYNN
ONE
ONE MORE STEP would mean certain death.
The sunlight pouring through the windows of Eirik Anger’s home glinted off the broadside of his sword as he pointed it at the woman standing half naked across the room, never letting the tip of the blade dip down.
Ara Caron flicked her gaze to the door, wondering how quickly she could escape the man she’d kissed only hours ago, the one who’d been her mission.
One more step would bring about her end. The words were an endless loop through her mind. Because she knew Eirik would kill her without a second thought.
“Why are you in Cana?” As Eirik’s growled words wound through her head, she realized he’d been repeating the same question.
Why had she come to a kingdom full of warlords and assassins when she could be safe with her people in Bela?
Only moments before, she’d rolled over in bed, thinking Eirik was sound asleep, and whispered words she hadn’t wanted him to hear.
“Meet me behind the tavern.”
The person receiving her words hadn’t been in the room, and that was how Eirik knew. He’d awakened to hear her using her magic to throw her words into the world, knowing they’d reach across town.
“Rik.” Ara stepped forward, her hands lifted. “I don’t know what you mean. I belong here.”
His lips pulled back to reveal his teeth, lips she’d loved pressing hers against, tasting him.
Yes, loved.
Because Ara Caron was a spy, and she’d fallen in love with the man her queen sent her to watch.
Taking another tentative step toward him, she stopped at the tip of his blade. “Are you going to kill me, Rik?” She pushed wild silver hair over her bare shoulders and lifted her eyes to stare into his sparkling emerald depths that now swirled with anger. “You can’t.” She smiled, taunting him into doing something, anything to show this hurt him as much as her.
As she stood facing certain death, she realized it might not be so certain after all.
The tip of his blade dug into her chest, sending a bead of blood arching over her breasts. And still, she didn’t move.
His eyes studied her as the muscles of his chest rose and fell with harsh breaths. “You’re a spy.” He said it with such certainty, as if it was the only explanation. Two types of
foreigners came to Cana: assassins looking for training and spies from the other five kingdoms who were just now putting themselves back together after centuries of war.
Cana was the one kingdom that hadn’t fallen apart, but then, they’d never been together in the first place.
Ara tilted her chin, knowing the pain her answer would cause them both. “I am.”
As if her words took the air from his lungs, his entire body deflated, and he lowered the sword. “Tell your queen she’ll have to work harder to make sure Cana leaves her shores alone.” He turned, his long ashy hair falling across his shoulders. He kept his back to her as he set his sword against the wall and spoke again. “You are no longer welcome in Cana. Leave this place and return to your home. If you do not, my men will hunt you down.”
The coldness of the words sent a chill racing through Ara, and an apology rolled to the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t let it free.
Spies didn’t apologize for doing their job.
The days when those with magic bowed to those without were over.
Ara wiped the blood from her chest and scrambled for the clothing she’d discarded in their passion the night before. Pulling on leather-kneed trousers and a worn woolen tunic, she yanked on her boots and reached for her ever-present sword.
“Stop.”
Eirik’s command halted her movements.
A hope she wished she didn’t feel rose in her. Falling into bed with a Canan warlord was not allowed. Falling into love with one… she’d let her entire people down.
Yet, all she wanted was Eirik’s forgiveness, for him to tell her he understood the duty she had to Bela.
“You cannot take your weapon.” His words echoed through her heart, widening the chasm inside. “I won’t have armed spies in my town. I am sparing your life, Ara. Do not make me regret it.”
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