Brother's Keeper V: Wylie (the complete series BOX SET): NEW RELEASE + Series Box SET included!

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  “Boyo,” Colleen chimed in again with Irish flare, “don’t say anything you can’t take back, son.”

  “I’m not, Ma. I need some air, that’s all.” And he turned for the door, pausing just before it closed behind him.

  Colleens arms wrapped around me. “What’s the prognosis, love?”

  With a tear-stained face, I forced a grim smile and said as gently and calmly as I possibly could, “The doctors were wrong before, but I don’t think they are this time. Terminal, they said.”

  Liam’s head dropped, and he let the door close behind him. Not a word. He just left to work out whatever he needed to. I owed him that time. Hell, I owed him so much more than that—like a life together until we were old and gray.

  “He’ll be fine, dear,” Colleen said, sitting me on the couch and taking the seat next to me. She held my hands in hers. “You did the best you could. You were in an impossible situation. He knows that, he just needs time to figure it out.”

  “I haven’t even figured it out. I can’t tell if I’m mad or sad. What to do next? What to prepare for and how? This time is different.”

  “Honey, that’s what family is for. We’ll all figure it out together, okay?” She patted my head when I laid it on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Should I go find Liam?”

  “No. I imagine he’s rounded up his rowdy brothers and they’re sittin’ down at the pub with their Da, drinking it all away so he can face it with a clear mind tomorrow. You know how they do.”

  I actually smiled at that. It was comforting to know, despite the hardship about to fall on this family, they all had each other. That they took care of each other like they did. They took care of me too.

  “I do. What I don’t know is how I’m supposed to leave…” The depth of my question left me absent of words, or at least the words I intended. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “One day at a time, honey…”

  I cried with my sweet mother in law well into the night until I fell asleep. I woke in Liam’s arms as he carried me to bed. I could smell the Irish Whiskey wafting from his breath. He gently lay me in bed and pulled my shoes, then jeans off. I could see his silhouette cast by the dim light of the moon from the window as he stumbled, trying to shed himself of his own clothes.

  When he crawled into bed behind me, wrapping his body around mine — his front to my back — I relaxed into him. Liam held me tightly against him like a promise never to let go, and although I knew the time to surrender would soon come, I drifted off to sleep and danced in a fantasy of a forever that was no longer mine.

  6

  Not gone yet…

  Treatment was much harder this time. It had only been a handful of weeks, but it was like my body remembered what this was and went right back to that torturous sick place where it spent so many months before. If muscle memory was a thing, I wondered if cancer cells worked the same way. That whole it’s like riding a bike thing — you just pick up where you left off.

  It had only been a handful of weeks since my regimen started — I’d lost track of just how many as the days and nights tended to run together. It was brutal. There was no denying that. No matter how hard I fought it, the cancer was definitely in control. Or maybe it was the treatment that was in control, who knew? I was clinging to the idea that this was normal, it was supposed to feel this way — you have to get sicker to get better. That’s a thing, right? I’d heard it before, so I’d subscribed to it.

  Delusional is what it was, but it made my circumstance feel temporary, like I’m only sick for now. I wasn’t wrong, in theory. I was only going to be sick for a short time before it went away. The difference between my convoluted thoughts and reality was getting better meant no longer living. Odd how that played out.

  Last time, I had bad days, usually right after treatment, but there were some not so bad days in there where I felt halfway like myself. Despite being tired and pale, my appearance hadn’t changed much before, other than my hair. There was no saving it in the end. But it was okay then because it was the end. I didn’t have time to miss my hair because I was quickly celebrating remission. A head of hair after months of grueling treatment seemed like a small price to pay for a second chance.

  This time was like all the bad days from before combined into one — every single day. From the very first treatment, the fatigue settled in, the pain, and I was certain my hair began to thin on my way to that first treatment. It was awful. Nearly unbearable. I slept a lot, and when I wasn’t sleeping, I was too tired to do much. I was able to roam the apartment and found myself on the balcony with a blanket more times than not. Otherwise, my ventures were limited to our building and the roof top garden when weather permitted. I didn’t feel so confined up there.

  It was hard to look in the mirror. This time, I looked sick. You could see the cancer. At least, I could. My skin was pallor. My cheekbones more prominent as my face had a sunken look. My hair was gone because I finally shaved the few thin patches I’d clung to, so I lived in head wraps to hide it. I needed help with nearly everything — I couldn’t even bathe or shower on my own most days.

  Liam essentially worked from home, his office one floor down from our living quarters. He’d check in on me often, and being a techy, he installed more cameras so he could check on me remotely. I was never alone, though. Caring for Reagan on my own was too much, so she spent a lot of time with family. If she was home with me, because that was important, the family came to us.

  Reagan liked being in the garden with me. We’d spend hours up there making up stories to go with her special fairy gardens and creating adventures for every airplane that flew over. We traveled the world that way, her and I. I spent most of my time sitting while she made the magic with her scattered garden art projects. It became her favorite thing, and mine — especially when the flowers bloomed and the veggies started to grow.

  I forgot about the cancer when she was around. But promptly remembered the minute she went to bed for the night or out the door for another adventure with a family member. I missed her when she was gone — I wanted every moment I could get with her. I lived for those moments.

  Liam had pinged my phone, letting me know he was back from their latest cases. He’d texted he’d be up after the debriefing, but with Reagan gone, I thought I’d go find him. It was one smooth elevator ride and about forty-seven steps down the hall to the conference room.

  Feeling a bit winded, I stopped just outside the room where Liam and his brothers were going over the details of their case, ready to finalize a report for whomever their client was. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was literally leaning against the wall and getting myself together. If I walked into that room full of O’Reillys, who were all-natural fixers, caretakers, whatever you wanted to call it, in this state, they’d all panic over the bead of sweat on my brow and winded nature. I knew better.

  They were discussing the woman they brought back with them, Felicity Nichols, and the role she’d play in the company. She was thought to be part of the ring they were bringing down, but turned out she was unknowingly breaking federal laws left and right under the guise she was testing the virtual security of major financial institutions who were clients. She was really robbing them blind.

  When she realized what she’d been doing, she not only infiltrated all the stolen money and hid it from her would-be boss who had manipulated her, but she also became an informant for the O’Reillys. Rather than face any charges, she was released to them and now part of the team. What little I knew about this chick, I really liked. With that level of tenacity, she’d fit right in at Brother’s Keeper Security.

  Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, by standing there, I also heard Liam discussing plans with his brothers I knew would hold him back, and that he hadn’t discussed with me. He sounded defeated, down, and I sensed a whoa is me vibe that wasn’t him.

  “I’m going to need to stay back and assist remotely from this point forward,” Liam said to his broth
ers. “We’ve done that before and it works. I’ll be back when I can.”

  “With Ms. Nichols a part of the team, she can assist with my duties in the field and here as needed.” Liam instructed. “Luke, I need you and Dace to get her field training done so I can be certain she’ll be a good support from that perspective as well.”

  “If you mean teach the lady to fire a gun,” Felicity said, full of sass, “I’ve already got that down. Pretty good shot too. I’m no sissy, boys. You can count on me here or wherever the field is.”

  “Well, Ms. Nichols,” Liam sneered.

  “Felicity. You can just call me Felicity. No need to be so formal.”

  “Ms. Nichols,” Liam emphasized, “we do a lot more than fire weapons. I’ve seen what you can do behind a keyboard and have no doubt you can fill that role just fine, but until you can take all four of my brothers down on the mat in some hand to hand action, you aren’t field ready. One hundred percent of making it home safely from a job is trust. We need to trust you.”

  “I feel like you don’t like me very much,” she said. “If you feel threatened by what I do and the level in which I do it, let me put your mind at ease. I’m not here to take your job—”

  “That’s because we own the place. It’s impossible,” Liam interrupted.

  There was a pause before the woman continued. “Like I was saying, I’m not here to put you guys out of business. I’m here because I believe in what you’re doing.”

  “That may be true, but to get to the point, you’re here because it was here or federal lock up. And to answer your question, it’s not that I don’t like you, I just don’t know you. None of us do, and until we do…trust you…this is how it’s going to be.”

  “Point taken. I’ll just go and finish settling in next door, in the lair.”

  I heard movement, followed by the opening and closing of a door, then laughter. The lair was the equivalent to a war room — it was Liam’s happy place. Walls covered in large screens with keyboards and other techy gear beside them, creating a master workstation. The other side of the wall was floor-to-ceiling servers where anything of value was electronically stored. Liam called it the fortress — it was impenetrable.

  Liam could guide a team on the other side of the world anywhere from that room. He’d also done some of his best hacking in that space — just ask and he’d tell you. Despite how he treated Felicity, he must’ve trusted her at least a little to let her in that room, much less sit at one of the chairs.

  “Anyway,” Liam went on, “I’ll have your backs as much as I can. I’ve upgraded my home office so I’m always accessible, unless Cass needs me.”

  “Has something changed? Anything we need to know?” Declan, his oldest brother asked.

  “I just need to be here more. Cass…she just needs me. She’s needing more help this time and I feel like I should be the one helping her,” Liam said.

  “We got it, bro,” one of his brothers said. “You need to be here. And we’re just as accessible if you need us.”

  “Yeah. I know.” Liam’s voice dropped. That defeated tone was back. “It’s just…I shouldn’t be working when she’s…”

  No. He didn’t get to do this. If I was fighting, he was fighting. Liam loved me, but he also loved his work and the idea of him giving all that up so he could sit at my side twenty-four-seven and watch me die was not part of the plan. Cancer was going to claim me whether he sat around and waited or worked through it. I had to live this day in and day out, he shouldn’t have to. He deserved an escape, and work was just that for him.

  “I’m not dead yet, Liam,” I said, entering the room. All eyes were on me. “If I’m still living, so are you. If I’m fighting, so are you.”

  “Cass…” he said, at a loss for words.

  “Don’t Cass me. I’m okay right now. And so are you, so you work. Maybe don’t go to Europe or anything, but work. You guys have more resources than the president. If I need you home, you can get here quickly.”

  “B-But…” Liam stuttered. “You’re tired. You need help. You need me.”

  “I do need you, but I’ll need you more later. I’ll need you in a different way — not to wait on me and make sure I can make it to the bathroom to get sick. I’ll need you more than that.”

  I refused to cry. I wouldn’t let my point be drowned out in tears. I wanted him to get the real message in my demands. I didn’t want his memories to be as my caretaker, but as my loving husband. Given his expression and loss of words, I think he understood. Sure, helping me here and there was fine, but I couldn’t let his every moment be filled with the ugliest parts of me dying. He deserved better than that.

  There was no way to protect him from the inevitable, but I could make sure some things remained normal, like getting up and going to work, coming home at the end of the day and having a family meal that didn’t begin and end with the constant reminder of cancer and death. Some things needed to last as long as they possibly could.

  There was pain in his eyes, and his smile was heavy and forced. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll keep working, but I’ll stay close to home — I’ll only skip the stuff that has me more than a two-hour flight away, and for more than twenty-four hours. Deal?”

  I smiled with a nod. It was a good compromise. I just hoped I would see the real Liam and a genuine smile fueled by happiness — not obligation — before the end. It was hard to find the joy in the grimmest of circumstances, but my new objective was to help him find it — to help all of them find it and cling to it. I just wasn’t sure how.

  “And be nice to that girl, Liam. She seems nice. I have a good feeling about her. She’s smart, like you. I can tell,” I said.

  “Too smart,” Liam replied, earning snorts from his brothers. “She already tried rearranging stuff in the lair, I had to give her her own space in there so she’d leave mine alone.”

  “Our brother still has trouble sharing,” Luke chimed in.

  Liam flipped him off. “It’s like she’s competing with me. She finished some of my stuff without being asked and set up her work area to be better than mine. It’s like she thinks she can just move in and — boom, take over.”

  “Sounds like she’s efficient, team oriented, and maybe helpful,” I replied with a giggle. “Maybe she’s just a good fit and cares about what happens around here. You guys pulled her out of a bad situation, right? Seems to me like you’re seeing gratitude.”

  I turned to leave, but had one last thing to say. “Give her a chance, Liam. She might be just what everyone needs around here.”

  7

  City talk…

  Liam was trying, I’d give him that. He was leaving for work each morning as promised, but he wasn’t traveling, much less leaving the building. He was as stubborn as I was, so I cut him some slack. It was better than hanging around our place watching my every move.

  If roles were reversed, I would want to be nearby too. Our love ran that deep. Even when I was well, he hated being away, just like I hated being away from him and Reagan. That was the blessing and curse thing again. It was a blessing to love someone and be loved that completely, but the curse was love like that was painful…especially in our circumstance. I guess that’s where the saying “I love you so much it hurts” comes from.

  Odd, it took an expiration date to make us consciously realize what we’d known all along. I thought we saw the small things as the greatest things after the first round of cancer. I had no idea just how much we were spared then. Having hope masks a lot. Right now, the only hope we had was time…we hoped for a little extra. To beat the odds this round meant defying what the doctors predicted and grabbing an extra month. Take that, cancer, I lived an extra four weeks.

  In an effort to grab those extra days or weeks, I tried to stay as mobile and active as possible despite my body urging a more sedentary existence. What did that look like? A trip to the elevator to ride one floor down and walk those forty-seven steps to the office where Liam and his brothers were once aga
in debriefing.

  The guys went out on some sort of recon mission to gather intel on some big bad cartel guy. They’d been assisting on a government contract their friend, U.S. Attorney Carter Landry, set them up with. Carter wanted this guy something fierce, and being a long associate of the O’Reillys, having served with them, he knew they were the team to bring the bad guy down. But that wasn’t common knowledge — it was privileged information.

  I walked my forty-seven steps to the conference room only to find a closed door. That meant one of two things: the mission was a bust or it was a total success and they were laying out plans to go after their guy and bring his entire vile operation to justice. I was fully aware of how dangerous their work was, but I still giggled at times thinking about it. The stuff they did, most people saw in the movies, but this was our real life.

  Hearing muffled voices in the distance, I saw the door to the lair had been open. I didn’t come all this way to give up and go home, so I continued on a recon mission of my own. As I approached, I noticed it was the same voice, that of a woman — a pissed off woman. Felicity.

  I knocked lightly at the door, causing her to startle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Everything okay in here?”

  I looked around to see who she was talking to. There was no one. She wasn’t on the phone and didn’t have one of those wireless things in her ear.

  She must’ve noticed my confusion.

  “Oh, I’m just talking to myself,” she said, followed by an uncomfortable giggle. “I do that a lot.” She then muffled under her breath. “A lot lately.”

  She looked at the door leading to the conference room where everyone else seemed to be…but her. I was starting to realize what had her in a mood.

  “No girls allowed, huh?” I nodded my head toward the other room.

  Felicity stood tall and tossed her paper-filled hands out to her sides. “NO! Can you believe that? I just handed them gold — literal gold — for this case, and this is how they react. They won’t let me in on it, and I was actually scolded for…sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. Can you believe that? The only reason they knew where they were going was because of me.”