by MK Schiller
How could it, when hell did not?
I almost fell off the chair when I woke, the old dream haunting me. My legs cramped, the cloth rosary in my hand. I had been circling it, praying for him. Although I put on a good show for him, the niggling worry would not cease. The doctors said he would be fine once the antibiotics took hold, but I had my doubts. Hannah had died from an infection despite all the medications.
None of my prayers had worked then.
I closed my eyes again, touching each of the small beads. I hadn’t run my fingers across this necklace since Hannah died, but it gave me some strength nonetheless. It wasn’t blessed by any holy person, yet it was the holiest thing I owned.
Liam stirred. I wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted the covers. He was in pain, but he never complained.
God, he was a good man. He’d put his life in jeopardy to save a child. Please don’t take him. Keep him safe. The world needed good men.
As the low light of sunrise filtered through the window, I repeated my prayer, my mantra, holding back the tears. The shrill sound of the phone broke my concentration. I snatched it up, expecting Prabhat with his hourly check-in.
“Hello?”
“I’m Liam’s brother.”
I almost dropped the receiver. Liam had a brother? And why did he sound American?
“Hello? Hello?” he yelled into the phone. No doubt he thought the call dropped.
“I’m sorry. I’m here.”
“I’ve been trying his cell for the past few hours.”
I looked over at the backpack. Liam’s cell was probably in there, and I was sure it needed a long charging.
“I just got my messages and found out what happened. They tell me you’re taking care of him. Mary Costa, right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a nurse?”
“A maid, but there is a nurse here, too. Also, a doctor. They both check on him regularly and are staying in rooms close by.”
If the man was shocked, he didn’t express it. All I could hear was concern and worry in his voice.
“Can you tell me what happened? I think Prabhat might be exaggerating.”
I told him everything that happened, and what the doctors had said.
He took a deep breath when I finished. “Wow…I guess he wasn’t exaggerating. That’s Liam, always the hero. Thank you for the update.”
“I’ll tell him you called.”
“Thank you…and Mary?”
“Yes.”
“Please take care of him.”
He disconnected before I could answer.
Chapter 12
Liam
Ever wonder what it felt like to have your insides retreat and rebel at the same time? Try drinking tainted water and being stabbed with a blunt, rusty knife in the same day. You’ll wonder no more. I swallowed the sun, ate it whole, and it scorched my flesh from the inside out. When the sun went down, winter flowed through me as if my veins had turned into icy, arctic roads.
I got sicker and weaker before I got better. I hated for her to see me this way, at my very worse, but she never faltered. I was only conscious for brief moments, but I always felt her presence. She read to me. She spoon-fed me soup. She sponged me off with a damp towel. She gave me my medicine. She massaged my arms and legs. Although I could barely keep my eyes open, another part of my anatomy had no trouble staying awake for that session. Figured.
In the low light, I could hear her reading Dickens.
“You’re at the end of the book. Did you read the whole thing?” My voice sounded distant, weak, and pathetic, as if it belonged to someone else.
“Yes.”
“Read from the other one.”
“Which one?”
“The one you gave me.”
She turned on a side light. I shut my eyes from the harsh glare. She looked around the room.
“It’s on the sideboard,” I said, lifting my arm to point, a small gesture which took a grand effort.
Mary seemed surprised I would have it. I wanted to say how much it meant to me. How much she meant to me. But right now, I could barely control my own bowels, so I kept quiet.
I forced myself to stay up, though. I felt like shite, but I could keep my eyes open, and the sheen of sweat on my body started to evaporate. I focused on her lyrical voice.
Groaning, I rolled toward her. Every muscle screamed. I shook my head as she rushed to help. “I can do it.”
She nodded, her face turning back toward the book. She read for a while.
I waited until I had the strength to voice the thoughts in my aching head. “I’ll talk to Prabhat. I’ll make this right.”
“No need.”
“Of course there is.”
She twirled a lock of hair. “I’ve been thinking of what you said. I gave my notice. I told Prabhat I would leave as soon as you were healthy.”
“Why?”
“It’s time.” Such a simple statement, but clearly, there were more complex thoughts behind it.
“Where will you go?” Would she take my help? But I already knew the answer to that question. Mary was stubborn and independent. As much as I admired those qualities, I also cursed them.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Do you have funds?”
“I’ve saved some money, and my father left me some. You don’t have to worry for me.” She flipped the page in the book. “Now, where was I?”
She continued reading.
I wanted to fall asleep again, but I forced myself to stay awake, to prolong this time together.
The tarnished silver bracelet she usually wore sat on the nightstand. The skin on the underside of her wrist caught the light as she flipped a page. It was as if the knife sliced my gut once more.
Oh, God, Mary…why?
I clasped her wrist.
I figured she’d snatch her hand away, but she didn’t. I rubbed my thumb across the jagged scar, my eyes never leaving hers. Her pulse quickened, but she never moved her hand. I swallowed my questions. I wasn’t sure if she would answer, or if I even had the strength to hear her explanation.
So we just sat in silence.
Chapter 13
Liam
The next time I awoke, I was more alert. Although my muscles were stiff, it didn’t hurt as much to stretch. She smiled at me.
“The fever broke this morning,” she whispered. She looked so damn happy and relieved, I grinned.
Then a whiff of something sour hit me. “What the bloody hell stinks?”
She laughed, adjusting the blanket. “It’s you, sir.”
“Oh man, I reek.”
“I had Manny give you a few sponge baths, but they aren’t as effective.”
A few? “How long?”
“Since when?”
“Since I’ve been…incapacitated.”
“Four days.”
My head spun. I thought maybe a day or two. Time had passed without me. The only constant was the feeling that Mary was near. “I need to call my office.”
“Prabhat did that. Also, your brother rang. You should call him. He sounded worried.”
“He’s only worried about the meetings I missed.”
“I don’t think so, Liam.” She opened her mouth to argue some more, but the last thing I needed was to talk about Stephen.
I interrupted her, “I’ll call him later, Mary, but right now, I have to call my secretary and get caught up.”
“Don’t spend your time worrying about what cannot be undone. It’ll set back your recovery.”
Those were wise words. I caught a whiff of myself again, the silk garments aggravating me as I shifted. I wore royal blue pajamas now. When had that happened? How had I slept through it all? “I need a shower.”
“I’ll get Manny,” she said.
I shook my head in protest. “I can do it on my own.”
She looked unsure, but stood aside while I sat up on t
he bed. My legs had turned into rubber. I wasn’t sure if they could sustain my weight. She sidled up next to me. “Put your arm around me.”
She was remarkably strong for someone so petite.
“I think you should take a bath,” she said as we entered the bathroom.
As if I hadn’t been emasculated enough, now she wanted me to take a bath like a child. To prove I was capable, I walked the rest of the way on my own. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
I glanced at the mirror. Several days of stubble covered my jaw line. My hair had always been longer than suitable for a businessman, but it hung fine and limp over my forehead. The tan I had sported was gone. In fact, I was three shades paler than I’d ever been. The ridiculous silk-pajama shirt plastered against my chest. I ripped it trying to peal it off.
I saw her in the mirror. She was staring at me, relief on her face.
She left the room, closing the door behind her. I shed the rest of the clothing and walked into the shower. Leaning my palms against the tile, I stood under the hot spray of water for a long time. Long enough for the feeling to return to each limb. I soaped my entire body, scrubbing away the last of the stench and illness.
I wasn’t alone, though.
Pulling back the curtain, I found her standing near the sink.
“Why are you in here?”
“I brought you a change of clothes, and…”
“And what?”
Steam clouded the entire room, making her appear like an apparition. “In case you fall. You’re so stubborn.”
There was something about how she looked at me or, rather, turned away. It wasn’t due to shyness or embarrassment. Her chest heaved as she bit her lower lip.
She was turned on.
And so was I.
I swallowed, doing my best not to focus on my damn erection. I hoped to God she couldn’t tell through the curtain that separated us. How could she be turned on right now? I looked awful.
“Go into the other room and wait for me.”
“Don’t fall. I won’t be able to lift you.”
I chuckled, bending my head toward the spray. “Promise.”
I’d taken hot showers for granted all my life. This one I thoroughly enjoyed. When I stepped out, I headed straight for my toothbrush and did all the motions in triplicate. I wiped down the foggy mirror. I almost felt like me…except for the beard. I found my razor.
“I don’t think you should shave right now.” I caught a glimpse of her standing behind me before the mirror fogged up again.
Yeah, probably best if I refrained from placing sharp objects against my jugular.
I scratched at the beard. “I hate this.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Implicitly.”
She moved a chair into the bathroom. “Sit.”
I did.
“Tilt your head, please.” I closed my eyes and leaned back. “I’m not sure how to use this,” she said, holding up the razor. “Shall I go get a normal razor?”
I laughed. “This is normal, Mary. It’s the way men have been shaving for centuries.” I placed her thumb on the side of the blade and showed her how to grip it. I brushed the fingers of her other hand on my cheek. “Shave in the direction of the growth.” I sucked in a ragged breath as her fingers caressed my face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
In slow, circular motions, she lathered my face with shaving cream. I tried not to breathe too hard when she ran the straight-edged razor against my throat. Her strokes were sure and swift. Her plump breasts were very close to my mouth. The scent of spiced vanilla drifted toward me. I did my level best not to think about how erotic this was.
“I may have missed a few spots, but you can wash your face now.”
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, freshly shaven and myself again, she had arranged fresh linens on the bed and aired out the room. Her lips parted in surprise as she gave me the once-over.
“Was I a cranky patient?”
“Never.”
“I am very grateful to you. You have healing hands.”
She waived away my compliment. “It was the least I could do.” She gestured to the table, set up with several dishes. My stomach grumbled at the sight.
“I ordered food for you. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“Starved.” But food wasn’t going to quench all my cravings. That much I knew.
“I should go now.”
“Stay. Eat.” When had I turned into Monosyllabic Man?
I pulled out a chair for her. She took her place across from me. The meal was simple fare of shredded chicken, bland potatoes, naan, and fruit. Mary said I should start slow, since I’d only had broth for the past few days. We shared a plate since she’d ordered only for me.
She told me about everything I’d missed. The doctor’s visits. Prabhat’s constant checking. Manny helping me to the toilet because I was too stubborn for a bedpan, thank God. I had no recollection of any of it. I only remembered her voice, the massages, and the cloth beads she ran her fingers over. And that night when I took her wrist and rubbed the scar etched over her veins.
Although her smile was bright, full of relief, she looked so tired. The tight braid she usually wore hung loose, many strands escaping the band. Darkness circled her eyes.
“Were you here the whole time?”
She swallowed a chunk of mango. “Practically. I left to bathe and get something to eat.”
I looked around the room. No cot had been brought in. “Where did you sleep?”
“Sometimes on the chair next to the bed or on the floor. You’d get up at all different times, so I wanted to be close in case you needed me.”
What kind of bastard let a woman sleep on the floor? The hard wood of the chair had to be even worse.
“You look exhausted.”
“I’ll sleep tonight.”
“Sleep now.”
She shook her head, cupping her mouth as the yawn escaped. “There is too much noise and traffic in the employee quarters at this time.”
“Sleep here on the bed.”
She arched a brow as if the suggestion was crazy. “I couldn’t.”
I rubbed her arms. “Let me watch over you for a while.”
She looked unsure. I took her hand and led her to the bed. I turned down the covers for her. “Mary. You’re exhausted. That’s my fault. Please let me do this little thing for you.”
To my relief, she slid into the bed. “Okay. Just a nap.”
“Shall I fetch you some water?”
She shook her head. “What will you do?”
“I have a million emails to occupy me. Just sleep now. As long as you need.”
She flipped over on her stomach, her face turned toward me. I ran my hand down her spine, settling on the dip in her lower back. She had a very nice dip. Emails could wait, right? “I’m not as versed on the fine art of massage as you. But if you’d like, I’ll do my best.”
“I’d like.”
I rubbed her back and shoulders, feeling the tension in them. She moaned softly as my hands kneaded her. God, that fucking beautiful moan.
“You gave me many rubdowns over the last few days, didn’t you?”
“You remember?”
“Yes.”
“They help with circulation. I didn’t want your muscles to atrophy.”
The fan above us blew a strand of hair against her face. She pushed it out of the way impatiently, but it refused to yield. I tucked it behind her ear.
“It’s better, thank you,” she said.
Crossing the room, I fetched my laptop. I took her place on the chair, which was more decorative than comfortable. I couldn’t imagine her sleeping in it. Yet, hadn’t I woken up several times to see her in this very spot? Guilt and regret plagued me. The illness had robbed me of all consideration.
I rested my fee
t against the bed frame and opened up my laptop. Emails filled the screen. I focused on the most important ones of the lot. I shot off replies to Stephen and Moneypenny with an update on my status. Stephen sent another back immediately, asking if I was coming home. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? I should cancel the rest of the trip and leave. Yet, I still wanted to finish what I’d started. I peered over the top of the screen. She had closed her eyes, her breaths soft and steady.
I snapped the laptop closed. I found my pack and took out the yellow legal pad. With a dull pencil, I sketched her. Definitely not my medium of choice, but when I was in the presence of my greatest inspiration, I’d take anything I could. Hell, I’d use a bloody chisel and rock right now.
I’d just drawn her outline when her eyes fluttered open.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, love?”
Love? Where had that come from? I didn’t know, but I also didn’t regret it.
Her eyes widened for a second before she graced me with a smile. “What are you drawing?”
Just the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. “You. You seem to have woken something I thought was long dead.”
She crooked her arm and leaned her head against it. “I will buy this one, too.”
“Will you?”
“I want all of them. Then I will have an exhibition featuring your work. I’ll become very wealthy when all the pieces sell.”
“Your ambitions are misguided.”
“Not ambition…faith. Faith in you, Liam. You’ll see how rich I am, and then you’ll know exactly how talented you are. I’ll prove it to you.”
I lost my focus with her words. I was a successful businessman who made multi-million- dollar deals every day. I had every luxury at my disposal. This girl…this girl who had so little had given me so much.
I glanced at the bracelet encircling her wrist. Why did you hurt yourself, Mary? I wanted to fix it, to make that hurt go away. Hell, to turn back time and make her world whole. “Are you still leaving?” I asked.
She adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, a flicker of emotion crossed her face. “You remember our conversation?”