by Ivy Raine
Marta crumpled to her knees. “You should have told me, promise or no.” The voice that came out was far from her sometimes sassy personality – it was trembling and terrified and alone.
Brad knelt down with her. “He didn’t want you to have to see him like that.” Brad revealed more than he intended with those few simple words, and it shook Marta to the core.
“He can’t die. I love him.”
How long they sat there, Marta couldn’t begin to imagine, but Brad never moved from that spot until Marta’s eyes refused to produce more liquid. It was at that moment that she realized just how much he really did love her and how very sorry she was that she couldn’t reciprocate. Brad was a keeper – for someone.
Chapter 15
Marta woke up as the sun rose the following morning. Partly because she was sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, but mostly because this was the day she’d finally see Stash again. She and Brad had talked deep into the night about their hopes and dreams for themselves and each other, and at some point she must have fallen asleep on his bed. That, however, was after she’d found out that Lindi’d been making regular phone calls to Brad to update him on Stash’s condition. This little revelation pissed Marta off, but Brad, not understanding her feelings about Lindi, assured her he would have told her if Stash was close to death. He just wasn’t getting the fact that she was pissed, not so much because he kept it a secret from her, but more because Lindi was in the spot Marta felt she, herself, should be in. She hated the fact that Stash hadn’t trusted her enough to even give her the opportunity to be there for him.
Though autumn was chasing them down, the skies promised to be blue and the day sunny. Life was funny like that. No matter what happens, the sun still shines, forcing you to face life and move on. If her world hadn’t been turned upside down ten hours earlier, Marta would have been in heaven, but the little bird chirping near the window gave her hope that everything would be okay.
“Brad.” She nudged him with her elbow and whispered a little louder. “It’s after seven o’clock.”
“Hmm.” He groaned and rolled toward her. “Am I dreaming? If I am, don’t wake me up.”
She jabbed him again. “Visiting hours start in fifty-five minutes. We’ve gotta get up.”
Running a hand across his stubble, Brad dragged himself to a sitting position. “Well, it’s not exactly how I’d planned to spend the night with you, but I’ll take what I can get.”
Marta hopped up. “And I’ll take a ride to the hospital.”
“Okay, slave driver. It’s time for me to give blood, anyway. It’s been a few months.”
Brad took Marta back to the cottage and waited while she took a quick shower and changed her clothes. She grabbed Stash’s favorite outfit – her tight jeans, boots, and the low-cut fringed top he bought for her on their first trip into the village. The jeans weren’t nearly as tight as they’d once been, but Marta didn’t mind. She was beginning to embrace her new body even if it stripped her of her veil.
“I’m ready!” Marta hurried down the steps and found Brad waiting at the bottom with his mouth in mid gape. “What?” She looked down. “Did I forget something?”
Regaining control of his jaw, Brad smiled. “Um…no. You just look gorgeous. That’s all.”
Marta rolled her eyes. “Are all men nuts?”
He turned the lock on the door before pulling it shut behind them. “When a man’s around a beautiful woman, we’ll do, say, and be just about anything you want us to, so I guess that makes us a little bit nuts.”
“Gosh. If I’d known I had this awesome power, I’d have used it sooner. Maybe my life wouldn’t be upside down right now.” She sounded like a thirteen year old, even to her own ears.
“Come on, now,” said Brad as he opened the passenger door for Marta. “I know this thing with Stash is stressful, but he’s gonna be okay. I can feel it.” He gave Marta’s hand a quick squeeze. “Remember all the good things in your life. You’ve got a family that loves you, friends, and most importantly, your health.”
Marta knew she must be oozing bitch, but she couldn’t help it. “I know, but sometimes it feels like a great, big, irritated cloud is sitting over my head raining down green shit.”
“That’s pretty graphic.” The engine revved to life. One step closer to seeing Stash.
Marta grunted. “It feels graphic.” She hated feeling like her hands were tied behind her back, but none of that was Brad’s fault. “I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I just really wish things were different. For all of us.”
She watched the world whiz by in a blur and wondered if the vacationers in the neat, little beach homes were happy on this Sunday morning. They’d probably be going home soon, back to their estates in the suburbs of the big cities where they’d be greeted by their designer dogs and their lazy maids. Back to being nestled onto their one point two acres where they could pretend the rest of humanity – the ugly, poor, and smelly side – didn’t exist. The few who understood what it was like living on the outside would eventually forget the struggles of the masses and morph into brainwashed duplicates of the rest of their class. Marta sighed. It must be nice not to have to worry about money. She thought of Stash and his hospital bill and wondered if he even had insurance. Does insurance even cover that sort of thing? There were deductibles, after all, and Stash wasn’t made of money. Right at that moment, life was more than unfair, and Marta actually felt a twinge of jealousy for the wealthy.
“Snap out of it, Marta.”
Marta jumped. It was almost as if he’d read her mind, and for a second, she was actually embarrassed by her thoughts. It wasn’t her personality to dwell on what she didn’t have, but right now she’d give almost anything to make Stash better.
“Do you really think he’ll be okay? Honestly?” Marta bit her lip, bracing herself for the answer. Brad wouldn’t lie to her.
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. “Yes, I do.”
Marta held onto those words, wrapping herself up in their safety. Leaning her head against the cool of the window, Marta’s mind wandered back to the days leading up to Stash’s disappearance. The memories of him languishing in exhaustion jumped front and center. Why hadn’t she noticed that something was wrong? It was so clear now, so very clear. He’d reached out – and she’d shoved him away.
Little by little, the streets morphed into city avenues, wide and many. The hospital wasn’t hard to find. It shot up out of the middle of the city, greeting them with its uniqueness within the constraints of uniformity.
“That’s it?” Marta craned her neck to see the top of the massive structure.
“Yep. St. Baldwin’s. I come here three or four times a year to give blood. It’s a top notch place.”
Brad pointed his sports car into the mouth of the parking garage, and they seemed to wind around and around until he finally stopped.
Neither one seemed to want to make the first move. The chill of a cold sweat clung to Marta.
She looked at Brad. “Well?”
“We should probably go in.”
Marta nodded. “You nervous? About giving blood, I mean.”
“Not really. I do it often enough.” He rubbed his palms on his knees. “You nervous?”
“Um…yep. I’m actually feeling a little sick.” She took a deep breath and looked at Brad. “I guess this is the end, huh?”
He shrugged. “I’ll see you at work, right? I mean, you’re the new hostess and all, and there’s really no reason for you to quit. We’re adults. We can be friends.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “The best.”
Marta found herself, once again, reaching for Brad’s hand as they made their way down the cold, stringent hospital hallways. He looked at her and smiled. “It’ll be okay.”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he’s mad that I came? What if he tells me to go away and never come back?” The thought of being rejected for a second time was too much. Now Marta knew exactly how Stas
h felt every time she pushed him away.
Brad squeezed her fingers. “Then you know where I’ll be.” He pointed to his arm. “Phlebotomy’s down at the end of this hall.” Bending down, he kissed the top of her head. “Here’s where you get off this ride. But,” he said, still holding tight to her hand, “if you want back on, you’re always welcome.”
Marta pulled him close and kissed him, breathing in his sweet, safe scent. “God, you’re making this hard. I really wish…I’m sorry,” she whispered in his ear.
“I’m not,” he said, pushing her just far enough away to get a good look in her eyes. “I had you all to myself for two, wonderful months. And,” he said, stepping back a bit, “it’s not like I’m being ultra-generous or something. If I thought there was a fighting chance…well, I think you get the idea.” Brad’s eyes darted away from Marta’s and seemed to fixate on something behind her. “Looks like Lindi’s coming.”
Marta’s heart bolted like a horse. “Toward us?” She turned around just as Lindi recognized Brad.
“Hello!” Lindi called down the hall.
Brad waved and motioned for her. “Just in time. She can take you straight to your destination.”
Marta bit the inside of her cheek and tried to quell the flush of heat rising to the surface. Lindi didn’t look quite her usual ball of energy, and as she got closer to them, Marta realized she actually looked awful. The dark circles under her eyes overshadowed her normally bright face, and the extra step in her gait was gone.
“Hi.” Marta tried to smile, and she was sure she at least projected a bit of friendliness, but she just wasn’t feeling it at the moment. “Brad told me about Stash.”
Lindi’s eyes held not anger, but concern. “Thank God. I’ve been arguing with Stash for weeks. I told him he needs to call you, but he’s being his stubborn self. Now, he has no choice.”
“I’m going to leave you ladies, if you don’t mind.” Brad gave Marta one last hug. “The vampires await. Call me and let me know, okay?”
“Well, I would, but I left my cell at home. I’ll call you when I get back.”
Brad nodded. “Tell Stash I said ‘hello’.”
“Sure.” Marta watched Brad walk down the hall and something inside of her tore. But, it wasn’t the painful tearing that normally accompanies a break-up. This was a freeing tear, and she felt her sense of direction return along with a hollowness eclipsed by nothing she’d ever felt. She looked at Lindi and began to sob.
“Oh, hush now.” Lindi wrapped an arm around Marta’s shoulder and laid her cold cheek against Marta’s warm one. “You can’t walk into that room like this. You’ve gotta buck up. Stash didn’t want you upset. That’s why he didn’t tell you, and if you show up looking like this, he’ll feel terrible.”
Marta nodded through the tears and pulled a tissue from her pocket. “How is he? Really?”
Lindi sighed. “Some days he looks like he could get up and walk right out of here, and others…not so much.”
“I just can’t believe he didn’t tell me what was going on.”
“For what it’s worth, I told him he was wrong to walk out on you like that.” Lindi tugged at Marta’s elbow. “Come on. May as well get this thing going so I can get some rest. That man’s been driving me nuts.”
Marta couldn’t help but laugh. That was Stash through and through. “He has a bad habit of annoying the hell out of a person, doesn’t he?”
Lindi raised a brow. “Bad habit? I call it more like a gift straight from Satan, himself. But, it keeps things lively, that’s for sure.”
It certainly did. Marta missed his quick wit and brutal observations, but she also feared he’d use it to send her away and that would hurt worse than the deepest of cuts.
Each footstep sounded like a clap of thunder in her ears. The click, clack, click, clack echoed back as go back, go back. Marta tried to shut it out and calmed herself by counting her steps instead. Things blurred by: nurses in brightly colored scrubs, patients shuffling through the halls in their hospital gowns and slippers, Lindi’s friendly chatter – all of it was a blur.
“That’s it on the left,” Lindi whispered, jarring Marta and sending her heart into overdrive. “Thirteen fifty-two.”
Marta’s mouth went dry and her skin seemed to condense and gather every molecule of water from the air. The sensation of pulling inside of herself engulfed her while her body kept moving against her will. Constricted. It was the exact same thing she felt the first time she walked into the funeral home after Kyle died.
No matter how many times she told herself ‘It’s only Stash’, Marta couldn’t shake the feeling. The trepidation of seeing him again nearly sent her running in the opposite direction. Before her mind had a chance to catch up with her feet, Marta found herself thrust across the threshold of thirteen fifty-two and staring straight into the stunningly gorgeous face of Stash Steele.
“How did you find me?” Stash devoured every last inch of Marta, stopping only when he found her eyes.
“It was sort of my fault.” Lindi fluttered around like a little hummingbird, fidgeting with his pillows and adjusting his blankets. “She was worried about you, and I couldn’t send her away without at least letting her know you were okay.”
Stash licked his cracked lips. “Miss me, beautiful?”
Marta eased herself down onto the edge of his bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears slid down her cheeks.
Reaching up, he brushed her jaw with his thumb but quickly pulled back. “You should’ve stayed away.” Stash turned his face from her. “You should just forget about me.”
He may as well have kicked her right in the gut. “You should’ve told me! You had me worried sick for weeks, and then when you bother to think about me, you shove a money order in an envelope and think it’ll suffice? I thought we were friends, Stash. You should’ve stuck around.”
“And check out on you like the other guy did? No.” Stash shook his head. “You’ve been through enough. I couldn’t do that to you. Unfortunately, my nurse doesn’t follow orders very well,” he said, giving Lindi the eye.
“It’s not Lindi’s fault. I was actually here for a blood drive and I saw her in the hall. I beat it out of her. I swear.” So, it wasn’t exactly the truth, but Stash didn’t need to know that. She glanced over at Lindi and smiled. It didn’t take a ton of bricks for Lindi to get the message, and before Stash could grab her, she’d slipped out the door. “You big idiot. If you weren’t so sick, I’d knock the shit out of you. Do you have any idea -?” Marta couldn’t go on. Not with him looking like he’d been run over by a truck. She ran her fingers through his overgrown mop, trying to avoid looking at the plethora of tubes sticking out of his left arm. “How bad?” She dreaded what she inherently knew.
“You know me, beautiful. Besides, like they say, only the good die young.”
“Can’t they do anything?” A million and one incoherent thoughts ran through her head at the same time. Nothing made sense. Seeing Stash Steele lying in a hospital bed didn’t make sense. He was strong and stubborn. This couldn’t be happening to him.
Though he tried to put on a nonchalant front, Stash couldn’t totally hide the fear from Marta. “There’s only so much they can do. I didn’t realize I had a problem until it was pretty advanced, and now there’re complications.”
“I don’t understand.” A huge lump rose in Marta’s throat. “They’re doing dialysis, right?”
Stash struggled to adjust his pillows. “Yeah. Seven days a week, four hours a day.” The veiled sarcasm wasn’t lost on Marta. “That’s not living, beautiful. That’s a death sentence.”
Leaning down to help him straighten out his pillow, Marta hovered just above him, her long hair cascading around him. “But, that’s only for a few weeks until you get a little better and then you’ll be able to go home. Right?”
Reaching up, Stash stroked Marta’s cheek, and for just a moment, a flicker of the old Stash lit him up from the inside out; it quickly fizzled a
way. “For a little while. I’m on the list for a donor kidney, but things like that take time. There’re other people on the list – people who deserve a kidney a whole hell of a lot more than me.” Stash closed his eyes and rested his arms against his chest. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.” He popped open one eye. “By the way. How’s it going with Bradley?”
“What?” Marta scrunched up her nose. Did he actually just ask her that question? “Why does that matter?”
Stash grabbed her hand. “It just does. I need to know.”
“We’ve been out a few times, but forget that.” Indeed, forget that. With his calloused, warm hand clasping hers, Marta’s mind went blank and she could do little more than focus on what was right in front of her. She used her free hand to brush his sweaty hair away from his forehead. “That’s not important.”
“He’s a good guy, you know.”
“Why, because he took me off of your hands?” Marta knew she shouldn’t, but she just couldn’t stop the words from slipping from her tongue. Instantly wishing she could take them back, Marta leaned her head against his chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, thoroughly ashamed of herself.
“If only I wasn’t sick,” he said, ignoring her question. “I don’t think I’d be afraid anymore. You’re like a beautiful boomerang. I can throw you out, but you keep on coming back. And to think I might have to die without ever having seen you naked. Such a shame.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said, the tears flowing again. “You’re not dead yet, and you’ve already seen me naked. Remember the laundry room at your brother’s?”
“Yeah, but I missed my opportunity. I told you I didn’t peek.”
“Seriously? I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”
“You don’t know me very well if you even have to guess at the answer to that one,” he said with a devilish glint in his tired eyes. “I can honestly say that no other woman has ever challenged my will power like Marta Manchester.” Stash yawned and closed his eyes again. “I’ve never been this exhausted in my entire life. Though I can say, it’s a lot easier to stay awake with you in the room. Well, parts of me are more alert than others, but you get the idea.”