by Misti Murphy
The surgery hadn’t been so bad. I’d told Mellie I had to attend a business trip in Lanston. Something about new products and housing development. By the time I came back I was healing, at least on the outside. Months later I still found myself cupping my crotch and missing the small piece of me that shouldn’t have mattered but did. What would she think? A part of me wondered if she’d laugh. Would she look at me differently, like I wasn’t enough anymore? I hadn’t been naked around her in months, hadn’t been able to touch her the way she wanted me to.
The doctor had been optimistic that after the removal I’d be cancer free, but I guess we’d hoped for too much. They’d found more in the lymph nodes in my abdomen, which meant chemotherapy. I’d started shaving my head closer to the scalp at that point, hiding the side effects from her the best I could. But there’d been more trips away, more hiding things from her. The treatment had slowed the cancer’s spread, but my body hadn’t responded the way the doctors hoped it would. We’d added radiation to the mix.
I dragged myself from the truck to the back step. The nausea was two-fold; exhaustion exacerbated by the long hours I forced myself to spend at the office, and my inability to sleep. Mellie had picked up on it, had started staying up with me during the nights. I’d taken to staying downstairs and telling her it wasn’t fair for her to lose sleep because of me, but I was hurting her. It was there in her wide eyes when she thought I didn’t catch her gaze. So many times she’d asked me what was wrong, but I hadn’t been able to rip her world apart the way mine had been.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself, though my hands shook as I pushed open the door. I had another appointment with the Oncologist in Lanston the day after tomorrow. I had to tell her. I should never have kept it from her in the first place. But the longer I kept it, the harder it got to tell her. And what if this was only the tip of the iceberg? My family history offered nothing but paranoia.
Shrugging out of my jacket, I tossed it over the back of a stool and dragged my tie free, dumping it, too. She sat at the kitchen table, back ramrod straight, not saying a word. My mind raced. I have cancer. I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew this would scare you. I have cancer. Crossing the kitchen, I filled a glass with water, concentrated on breathing in and out. I have cancer. It’s not getting better. I’m scared I’m leaving you.
My hand shook so hard the water spilled over the lip of the glass and I raised it to my lips, gulping it down. My chest had a strangle hold on me, screaming with the words, I have fucking cancer.
“Hello to you, too.” Anger laced her voice, crackled around her.
The glass almost slipped out of my grasp. I held it in a death grip while I turned and sagged against the counter. How did I explain this to her? “Hey.”
She bolted out of the chair, marched across the room to stand in front of me, one hand fisted on her hip. She gnawed her bottom lip, her gaze narrowed. Then she snapped. “How could you fucking do this to me? How could you?”
She was screaming, her voice cracking, her whole body trembling. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and turned away from me. Her shoulders shuddered, a small sob filling the silence. I should have reached for her, pulled her against me and told her everything, but instead my muscles locked up, frozen, useless, my explanation stuck to the back of my throat.
“I knew…” she whispered, hoarse, “…something was wrong, but this.” She turned to face me and threw an arm out to the side, gesturing at my journal.
I wanted to vomit. I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth ground together. I should have told her. She shouldn’t have had to find out like that.
“An affair?” She sobbed. “Please tell me it isn’t true? Please tell me I’m making something out of nothing?”
She raised her palm to me, and I stared at it. An affair?
Her hand dropped to her side. “How long has it been going on, Mike?”
Where the hell had she gotten the idea I would cheat on her? I wasn’t having an affair. Why would she even think that?
“How bloody long?” She gulped, trembling all over as she stared at me.
A weight settled in my gut. How the hell was I supposed to respond?
“It’s true then.” She spun away from me and marched around the bench to grab her purse. Throwing one more hurt filled glance my way she bolted from the house.
I followed her to the door, numb, someone else’s life playing out in front of my eyes. She dashed her hands across her face as she jumped into the car and drove away.
Going back to the kitchen, I sunk down on a stool. The planner right in front of me, I stared at the open pages. A record of each doctor’s appointment, a damning report of almost every lie I’d told her. How she could believe the information in front of her added up to an affair, I’d never understand, but she’d been brewing over it a while now. That much was obvious. She’d spent too much of her life around people who hid things, who fucked her over and abandoned her. Did she think I was doing that, too?
I slid the journal closer. Perhaps that’s what I’d been doing. I’d tried to hide it from her, to protect her from the pain I was going through and I’d made everything worse. So I had to tell her.
I waited for her to come home. She had a temper, but it was lightning quick. It would diffuse soon enough and she’d come home. Then I’d tell her everything. It wouldn’t be easy, and we’d still have to deal with the cancer, but I wasn’t riddled with it. I’d do whatever I had to, to stay with her. Whatever she needed from me to make up for the damage I’d caused, I’d do it.
But she didn’t come home, so I went looking for her. Then the texts had started coming. Drunken words and broken sentences. But it was okay. They were just letters in random order. We’d fix this.
I’d searched everywhere but Wolf’s. She wouldn’t go there, I’d made her promise not to set foot in that pub without me. Some of the pricks who frequented Wolf’s could be real assholes. With me she’d been safe. They knew I could throw down, so they kept their hands off my girl, but going alone was asking for trouble. Unfortunately, the worse her texts, got the more certain I became that was exactly where she’d gone.
Her car was in the car park when I got there, and I strode across the dirt lot to where Wolf sat at the door. “Hurricane in there?”
“Sure is. I didn’t expect to see her here alone,” he grumbled, giving me a hard stare.
“Shouldn’t be here at all,” I muttered, and pushed through the door.
It was rowdy inside, the usual crowd drinking and cussing while they wound down after work. I didn’t recognize the guy behind the bar. I leaned over, shouted at him. “Have you seen a blonde, about this tall?” I held my hand to my shoulder. “Name’s Hurricane?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “She’s been at the bar all evening.” He pointed his thumb in the direction of the bathrooms. “Think she might have gone to take a leak.”
I stalked through to the ladies, pushed open the door without a second thought. I wasn’t going to wait for her to come out. Her messages screamed with pain, and I wasn’t going to waste time waiting outside a door just because it had a picture of a woman on it.
She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t fucking alone. My fists clenched, my knuckles cracked. An animalistic growl caught in my throat. My pulse pounding in my ears, I advanced on them. Fucking Rabid. Of all the people. I’d fucking kill him. His hands were on my girl as he slammed her into the wall over and over again, the sound of him getting off making bile rise in my throat.
For a split second I couldn’t breathe and the pounding in my ears stuttered. I jerked back, going rigid. Icy fingers of realization wrapped themselves around my gut and squeezed. Her eyes widened, but couldn’t focus on me. Her cheeks scarlet, against the paleness of her face. Tears brimmed along her lower lashes. I stalked forward, ready to rip him the hell off her, to pummel him into the fucking ground, but she shook her head. It was almost imperceptible through the haze, the pain in her eyes cracking my chest wide open. Then
she closed her eyes and turned away from me.
I slammed out of there, the door hitting me in the back as I bent over and puked on the floor. The world twisted, and I stumbled down the hall. Smacking my fist into the wall, I hesitated, whirled around, and stormed back. I should go in there and kill the bastard for what he was doing to her. But it wasn’t that cut and dry. The agony of her choice, etched in her gaze, struck me to the core. It writhed in my chest, as much a part of me as she was. I spun around, hands on hips, my breath bellowing out of me. She’d set out to hurt me, like she was hurting, and she’d sliced me open, cutting me to my soul. But damn it, I couldn’t let that bastard treat her like that. I snarled as I turned and slammed my palm to the door ready to go in and beat the shit out of him.
The door swung in, and Rabid strode out of the bathroom, adjusting the waistband of his pants with a smirk. “Quite the little whore you got there.”
“Fuck you.” I rammed him into the wall with my shoulder, wrapping my fingers around his throat and sliding him along the wall to the end of the hallway and out the back door. He stumbled on the steps, but rounded on me as his boots hit the dirt. My vision clouded, narrowed on him. I rushed him, my fist landing in his face, the crack of cartilage in his nose barely registering. He howled and put his hand to his nose, as I pushed him back, another fist to his stomach. “Don’t you fucking talk about her.”
“She wanted it. She asked me to fuck her.”
I roared as I threw myself at him, taking him to the ground beneath my fists. All I could see was her face when I’d walked into that bathroom. I kept swinging, even after he stopped struggling. Even when stronger arms than mine locked around me and dragged me off him. Wolf’s voice slowly penetrated the haze that enveloped me. “Let it be, Knight. Let it fucking be.”
He didn’t let go of me until I stopped struggling, gasping for breath while my mind began to clear. Rabid was out cold, his face swelling, his nose crooked, blood seeped from a split in his lip, and underneath his left eye. I swallowed, the taste of copper coated my tongue and throat. He hadn’t landed a single hit, but I’d ripped a hole on the inside of my cheek during my rage.
“You got it together?” Wolf grumbled. “You’re not going to lay into him again are you?”
“No.” I raced a hand over my scalp. “Shit. This is fucked.”
“Yeah.” Wolf crouched next to the guy. Checked him over as I paced the side of the building.
“Is he going to be all right?”
“I’ve seen worse. Not like the bastard doesn’t deserve it.”
“You knew?” I hurled the accusation at him.
“Now, hold up.” He straightened, palms up. “I was generalizing. Everyone knows Rabid’s an asshole. What’s got you so wound up?”
“Mellie. He practically fucking assaulted her.”
“That’s a pretty serious allegation. You got proof?”
“I walked in on it,” I ground between my teeth. “I walked in on him fucking my girl. Where the hell is Angel tonight? If she’d been behind the bar this shit would never have happened.”
Wolf’s growl was unmistakable. “You leave Angel out of whatever shit’s going on between you and Hurricane. You hear me, boy?”
“Fuck, Wolf.” I slammed my fist against the wall, slumped into it. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. This is all my fault.”
“No point in blaming yourself. You and your girl have some shit to sort through. Maybe you should go inside and check on her.”
A motorcycle started up on the other side of the building, tearing away, the motor slowly fading into the rhythm of the cicadas in the trees. I pressed my forehead to the wall, concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. So much damage. Most of it my fault. Some of it hers.
An owl hooted. Wolf coughed, the slight click of a lighter sparking, and then the odor of his cigarette curled into my nostrils. There was a weird kind of peace in the moment your world ended. Every little sound and smell amplified. The chaos that had wracked my brain for months settled into white noise. She didn’t need to know I had cancer, or that it wasn’t responding to treatment the way we’d hoped. It was all so logical in my head. This was how it was meant to be. I couldn’t ask her to stay when I had no future to offer her. She’d hurt for a while now, but she’d get over it in time and move on.
“I have to go.” I stalked around the side of the building.
“Hold on.” Wolf stubbed his cigarette out on the heel of his boot, and strode after me. “You’re going to leave her here?”
I hesitated and then turned to him. “If I told you I had good reasons—”
“They must be damn good for you to leave that girl.”
The weight of the day bowed my shoulders, my feet dragging. “Trust me, it’s better for her if I leave. Look after her, Wolf. Take her home with you at the end of the night. Then see she gets home okay?”
“Guess I can do that.”
“I’m leaving town. I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone for. You need to get Angel to tell Hurricane…”
He grabbed my shoulder with his thick fingers and squeezed. “You want Angel to tell her you’re gone?”
“Yeah.” Because if I walked back in there, I’d lose it. The truth would come out and the mess would be so much worse. She’d stick beside me no matter what it took to get over what had happened tonight. She would stay beside me no matter how short our future might be.
No, I wouldn’t tell her. I wouldn’t lie to her, but I wouldn’t change her mind, either. It would be better to let her hate me and move on. Better to let her think she hadn’t hurt me more than I thought was possible.
“I’d change your mind if I thought I could.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Well, get out of here then. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
I clapped him on the back, and then headed back to the truck. It was a seven hour trip to Lanston. I’d get Orion to hire someone to help with the office, and work long distance for as long as it took for me and cancer to kick each other’s ass.
Chapter Eight
Mellie
I had an hour, maybe two before I needed to be at Mike’s. Part of me wanted to drive straight there, but the memory of that night spun through my head, and right on its heels, the next day followed.
I’d stumbled out of the bathroom to find myself alone in the dimly lit hall. No Rabid. I’d dragged in a shaky breath, the smell of vomit had hit my nose, and I’d slammed my hand to my mouth as I’d scuttled back into the bathroom to heave over the porcelain.
Mike had been gone when I’d finally re-entered the bar. I’d known he would be but that didn’t halve the pain, only enhanced it. I’d sat back down at the bar, rested my head on the beaten smooth wood and ordered another scotch. I’d ended up on the floor, nursing an empty glass, my eyes burning and swollen, until I’d passed out.
Apparently, Mike had asked Wolf to take care of me. I’d woken up the next day on his and Angel’s sofa. Angel had driven me home, Wolf following on his bike. She’d grasped my hand, squeezed it. “He won’t be there when you get home.”
I’d been a broken water pipe, even my mouth over-watering. I gulped, my heart dipping, though the part of me that wanted to destroy me was glad I wouldn’t have to face him immediately. “Okay.”
“No, I mean…” She’d let out a sigh. “He’s left town. He didn’t say when he’d be back.”
“Left…” And there were the damn waterworks again. “We’re done, aren’t we?”
“I really don’t know.” She’d shaken her head and squeezed my hand again. “He didn’t really tell us anything, other than to make sure you got home safe, and that he was going away.”
She’d pulled into the driveway, and we’d both hopped out of the car while Wolf guided his bike in behind us.
“You need anything, you let me know, okay?” Angel had said, before she mounted the bike behind Wolf. He’d nodded in my direction, his gaze soft. Maybe they didn’t want to say it o
utright, but he’d had an affair, hadn’t he? And I’d cheated on him, or at least I hadn’t broken up with him before I destroyed any chance of fixing things. We were past the point of no return. We were over.
The house had been quiet, empty when I stepped inside. It was almost unbearable. On the counter had been a single piece of paper, hastily scribbled on. Two sentences in blue ink. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Take your time packing up.
It had taken a week to steel my emotions enough to leave the house, another week to start looking for somewhere to live. Maybe I’d procrastinated, or perhaps I’d hoped he’d come home, and if I was still there we’d be forced to deal with what had happened. But the truth was, I’d known we couldn’t fix it. I just couldn’t do more than concentrate on holding my broken heart together.
And it seemed I was still barely holding the damn thing together, bits of string wound around it. Telling myself over and over again that I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed more than a dick was a lie I could no longer convince myself was true. If I’d ever been able to.
Now he wanted to tell me that everything he’d led me to understand about our break up was false. How could he consider a future with me when I couldn’t forgive myself for what I’d done? I’d been so scared he was leaving me that I’d jumped the gun. He couldn’t hurt me as badly if I hurt him first, right? That it wouldn’t be so bad if I was the one who left him behind.
Wrong! I’d been so incredibly wrong. Any way one cut through the pain, it was still agony, deep in my soul, and the bruises never fully went away.
Turning onto the side street, I pulled into my twin, Lola’s, driveway. There was a first time for everything, although I never expected to see the day I went to her for advice. Separated since we were fifteen, it had only been the last twelve months she’d been back in my life, and it had taken a while to deal with having family so close. Hell, I hadn’t had any family, except for Orion, Birdie, and Mike until Lola had shown up with my niece Tia in tow. Advice from Lola would be laughable, if it weren’t for the fact that while I couldn’t seem to let go of the past, she’d grabbed hold of her future. I wanted that. I needed that. I mounted the stairs.