The Maxwell Series Boxed Set - Books 4-6

Home > Other > The Maxwell Series Boxed Set - Books 4-6 > Page 46
The Maxwell Series Boxed Set - Books 4-6 Page 46

by Alexander, S. B.


  Roxanne squealed. “For real?”

  Mr. Robinson began pressing buttons on the workstation. The computer screen above the controls came on.

  Roxanne nudged me with her knee. “Did you hear that?”

  “Will Kody be here?” I asked.

  Mr. Robinson continued to push keys. “I don’t need him since Jake and Kody recorded all the background music yesterday. I just need you to put your heart and soul into the song.” He waved a hand at the microphone. “Shall we?”

  “Get out of your slump, or else I will kick your butt,” Roxanne whispered. “This is the chance of a lifetime. You might even make some money out of this.”

  “She’s right,” Mr. Robinson said. “Lots of money.”

  His last statement sort of lit a fire under my butt. Money wasn’t everything, but in the grand scheme of the predicament Lowell and I were in, money would be a great thing. I also could save for the surgery if I went in that direction.

  I hopped up and made my way to the microphone. When I did, Kody appeared in the doorway. It was hard to hear anything outside the room with the acoustic panels covering the walls.

  He gave me a warm grin, and my heart soared.

  Mr. Robinson moved the microphone in front of the workstation. “Glad you made it, Kody. Why don’t you help me with the controls?”

  Kody regarded Roxanne before he towed a rolling stool from the corner over to the workstation. I positioned myself behind the mic.

  “Jess, you’ll do this take with no headphones,” Mr. Robinson said. “The room is sealed off, and the acoustics will be good. I’ll run through a few sound checks. Then when I point to you, that’ll be your cue to start. Roxanne, can you close the door, please?”

  I bobbed my head as I kept my gaze on Kody, whose expression I couldn’t read.

  Roxanne darted back to her seat after she’d shut the door.

  I’d sung the song enough that I had the words memorized.

  As Mr. Robinson went through his check one, two, and three, I took in slow and quiet breaths, wanting to get this over with so Kody and I could talk.

  Then Mr. Robinson flicked his forefinger at me before the melody of the song came through the speakers on each side of the computer monitor.

  I started in. “Let’s chase a fallen star. Let’s catch fireflies in my backyard.” I absolutely adored the song, the words, and the melody. All of it made me feel tingly and emotional. When I ended with the words “dare to live,” tears were rolling down my cheeks as usual. Damn song got to me every time.

  Dashing tears away, I honed in on Kody. He had something more than awe in those dusky-blue eyes of his. Pride, maybe. After all, he’d written the song.

  “Jessie, that was great, but I’ll need a few more takes,” Mr. Robinson said.

  So I sang the song five more times, and in between stops and starts, Mr. Robinson tweaked a note here and there.

  When we finally finished, Mr. Robinson said, “This song will be a major hit.”

  Kody whipped his head at the man. “Seriously?”

  Mr. Robinson slapped a hand on Kody’s back. “I know I said I didn’t want to work with family, but I’m making an exception.”

  Kody grasped the back of his neck as the most heart-gripping smile crossed his face. If I weren’t mistaken, a tiny amount of water lit his eyes.

  “You keep writing,” Mr. Robinson said.

  Roxanne finally got up and squeezed the hell out of me. “I’m so proud of you. Lowell will be too.”

  “What happens now?” I asked, feeling as though singing might not be so bad after all. How cool would it be to hear my voice on the radio!

  Mr. Robinson stood. “The next step is to get this over to my partner. Then you, Kody, and I will talk next steps after that. Why don’t we head upstairs for a drink?”

  Kody, Roxanne, and Mr. Robinson started for the door. Kody was leaving as though he didn’t want anything to do with me. I scratched my head. I hadn’t done anything to make him not want to talk to me, unless Mack was the reason. Or maybe his family had told him to stay away from me.

  “Kody, can I talk to you for a second?” I wasn’t letting him off that easy, although maybe I should have walked away. If you’re going to work with Kody on the song, then walking away isn’t really an option. Clear the deck now.

  Mr. Robinson nodded at Roxanne. “We’ll be in the kitchen.”

  The two started chatting as they faded from the room.

  Kody studied me, his blue eyes devoid of any emotion.

  I wiped my sweaty hands on my black pants. “Are you avoiding me? You haven’t returned any of my texts or calls. Did you beat up Mack?” I was puking up words.

  He narrowed his eyes. “You sang that song better than before.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s not an answer to any of my questions.”

  “Look, Jess. I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last few days. We should stick to a professional relationship.” His tone was flat.

  My insides were anything but steady. “I thought you said you wanted more with me? And what about our dinner date tonight?”

  His biceps strained through the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “Have you ever been kicked and punched to the point where you couldn’t breathe or didn’t think you would ever see your family again?”

  I clenched my jaw. “I didn’t do those things to you.”

  Cool, calm, and collected, he said, “But Donovan is in your life. He’s in love with you. That doesn’t sit well with me. If I want a relationship with you, I have to find a way to deal with Donovan, and right now, I don’t know how to do that.”

  I wanted to knock some sense into this gorgeous man. But I couldn’t or wouldn’t beg. That wasn’t my style. “I’m not in love with him. I told you that.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s extremely difficult for me not to kill him, especially after how he shoved my mom when she was only trying to help him. So as much as I’m attracted to you, I’m not sure you and me would ever work.”

  Part of me couldn’t argue with him about Mack. The two had some strong hatred for each other. I certainly didn’t want them throwing fists at each other every time they were in the room together. Yet I couldn’t force either of them to become friends, just like I couldn’t force a drug addict to quit his addiction.

  But I had to try. “You don’t even want to fight for me?” Okay, so maybe I was begging. I’d never felt as strong of a connection as I did to the tall and sexy Maxwell standing before me. Maybe he was right in that he and I would never work. I’d been the one doing my best not to get too attached to him since I didn’t want to subject him to my problems. I was also afraid that when he learned I might not have breasts, he would drop me like a hot potato. After all, he’d paid a lot of attention to my breasts when we slept together.

  He cocked his head. “Baby doll, you have to come to terms with whatever is causing you to cry so much. You say Donovan isn’t the reason, but I’m not entirely sure I believe you. Plus, you don’t want me fighting for you, because the next time Donovan came between us, I wouldn’t hold back.” He started to leave.

  “Kody, please tell me your mom’s okay.”

  “She is. Oh, and I haven’t touched Donovan. You should tell him to pick up his bike. I’ll see you upstairs.” Then he was gone.

  I planted my hand against the wall and the other on my abdomen as the room spun. I didn’t know how my life had gone from quiet to chaos in a matter of two weeks. But one thing was certain—I wanted to fight for Kody, for us. It was time for me to tell Kody the reason I’d been crying so much.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jessie

  Ms. Harold was a petite woman in her early thirties with black-as-night hair that had highlights of subtle blues. She handed me a cup of coffee before she sat down at the kitchen table with me.

  “You have a beautiful home.” Her kitchen was quaint and open with no big island like my house or the Maxwells. Her appliances were white, not t
he usual stainless steel that I was used to seeing in homes.

  She sipped her coffee. “Thank you.”

  I had so many questions as I tried not to stare at her breasts. Ms. Franklin, the genetic counselor, hadn’t shared much about Ms. Harold’s case. I only knew Ms. Harold had been through what I was going through now.

  She set down her cup. “I can see you’re having a hard time with making a decision,” Ms. Harold said in a dainty voice.

  I knitted my eyebrows until I realized my knee was bouncing up and down. “I keep going back and forth. I want the surgery. Then I don’t. Am I making the right move? Will I develop breast cancer just because I have a gene that says I have a high chance?”

  She gave me a warm smile. “The big one for me was I won’t feel like a woman anymore.”

  I nodded. “Exactly. How did you make your decision?”

  She glanced down at her breasts then at me. “I’m not saying it was an easy decision. But in the end, I didn’t want to end up like my mom, and I wasn’t about to wait to see if the statistics would prove otherwise.”

  I couldn’t tell from looking at her breasts if they were real or not, and that alone gave me some reassurance that my outer appearance might not change so much.

  “My mom has been gone now for four years,” I said. “I’m only twenty-five. I want a family too, and I want someone to love me no matter what. All that makes my decision difficult. I really don’t know what to do.” I definitely didn’t want to go through what my mom had endured. I also wanted to live a healthy life.

  She held the coffee cup in her hands as she gazed out her bay window that overlooked her backyard. “Everything you’re feeling is normal. God knows I had the same struggles.”

  “Forgive me for asking personal questions, but are you in a relationship or married?” I didn’t see a ring on her finger. “I guess what I’m asking is how do you feel when you get intimate with someone?”

  She smiled. “I have implants. I can’t feel any nipple sensation, but being intimate isn’t all about breasts. Regardless, I’m not in a steady relationship. I thought my boyfriend at the time would support me, but he didn’t.” A cloud of sadness washed over her. “Which told me he wasn’t the right man for me. Are you in a relationship?”

  I glanced down at the coffee I wasn’t drinking as Kody popped into my head. “Not really. I do like someone, but I’m not sure it’s fair to start anything serious with him.”

  “Does he know?”

  I shook my head. “I found out about my DNA results on the day I met him. Actually, his niece found me crying my eyes out in the hospital cafeteria. Since then, we’ve had sex. It’s complicated with him. He has his own issues he’s dealing with.”

  “Just be honest with him.”

  Kody at least deserved to know why I’d been crying. I couldn’t let him believe Mack was the reason I’d been in the dumps.

  “Ms. Harold?” I asked.

  “Please call me Linda.”

  “Linda, if you had to make the decision again, would it be the same one?” I took a large gulp of coffee as gold streams of light filtered in through the bay window.

  She shifted in her seat. “I go back through the pros and cons. I didn’t have to rush into the surgery. But honestly, I’m not sure. I have days that I wish I wouldn’t have had the surgery. I have days when I read or hear about more and more women having breast cancer, and I thank God that I don’t have to worry about that anymore. It’s a tough decision. It’s one only you can make. Don’t let a man or a family member or a friend push you into something you’re not ready to do. You don’t have to make any choices right now. But I will suggest that you do get a mammogram done. Get that baseline.”

  I’d already made the appointment, which was scheduled in two weeks.

  “What makes you wish you didn’t have the surgery?”

  She rubbed the rim of her cup. “Sometimes I miss feeling my real breasts. Also, I always wanted to breastfeed when I had kids.”

  It was freeing to listen to her story. She made me feel that no matter what I decided, I wasn’t the only one who had faced or was facing a tough road.

  A contemplative silence ticked by.

  I hauled myself to my feet. “I should go.”

  She gracefully stood. “My parting advice is not to rush into a decision. When you do finally come to one, make sure you’re doing it for you and no one else.”

  That was the second time she had recommended not to let anyone else influence my decision, leading me to believe that maybe she regretted what she’d done a little more than she was willing to admit.

  I couldn’t help but think of what Roxanne had said, which was along the same lines. “Wait two or three years. Get your mammogram regularly and check yourself daily. That way, you have time to breathe.” Boy, it was difficult not to think that my chances of developing breast cancer were high.

  After she walked me to the door, we exchanged a hug.

  “You have my number now,” she said. “Call or email me anytime.”

  Five minutes later when I was on the road, I replayed our conversation, trying to decipher if I felt any differently or if I was ready to make my own decision. But aside from feeling as though I wasn’t alone, I couldn’t have said that I would call my doctor the next day and set up the surgery.

  I should let myself breathe and stop agonizing over that freaking mutated gene. I had to stop worrying that I would wake up tomorrow and find a lump in my breast. But that was my problem. I would always worry the day would come when I would find a lump. You’re ahead of the game. You’re doing all the right things. You’re doing your research. You’ve talked to a genetic counselor. You’ve talked to a psychiatrist. You’ve talked with a person who has been in your shoes. One day at a time. You can’t rush making your decision. It’s a big-ass one to make.

  Cars passed in the opposite direction. I slowed when the vehicle in front of me flicked on its blinker.

  My mom had always said that it was best to concentrate on other things rather than the problem at hand. She’d believed that taking her mind off the problem would give her the answers. It was time I tried her advice. Besides, I had some outstanding items that needed my attention. I owed Kody an apology and the truth. Maybe then, he would firmly believe that I wasn’t wallowing over Mack. I had my mammogram in two weeks, and then I would deal with telling Lowell. That way, I could present Lowell with all the facts, including that my mammogram tests were negative. If I told him before then, he would stress until he knew I was clear, and I didn’t want him ending up in the emergency room again. In between all that, I might have to sing again. Mr. Robinson had informed me before I’d left his house the other day that he would let me know in a week or so what the next steps would be.

  Just thinking about my voice on the radio made me giddy. Maybe a silver lining existed in all this. I could get Lowell and me out of debt and put money away for that rainy day and my surgery, and that was most important to me at the moment.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kody

  The minute Kade and I got out of my truck at Jessie’s shop, my blood boiled to a scalding-hot temperature when I laid eyes on Donovan. He was working on a motorcycle and had his back to us. Lowell was watching Mack and pointing at the engine until Kade slammed the truck’s door.

  My brother was just as furious as me. He’d called me that morning to find out if Donovan had returned to the house to pick up his motorcycle and apologize to our mom. When I’d told him no and that I was heading over to Jessie’s shop for the third time that week to find Donovan, he’d jumped in his car and sped home from Boston.

  “We’re about to settle this once and for all,” Kade said, his tone deadly. “We’ve given him enough time to sleep on what he did. That fucker owes Mom an apology.”

  No argument from me. Almost a week had passed. I’d hoped that Donovan would’ve stopped by my house to collect his Harley, at least—the same one I wanted to take a hammer to. But my old man had othe
r ideas. Since he had a thing for Harleys, he’d been tinkering with the engine, even taking it for a spin. He’d asked me several times to get in touch with Donovan and ask him to come and get his motorcycle.

  As much as the anger in me was boiling, I did let out a sigh when I didn’t spot Jessie’s car anywhere nearby. I’d been mulling over what I would say to her. I knew she wasn’t going to be cheering me on when I got in Donovan’s face, which was one of the reasons I’d wanted to keep things professional with her. Although that was hard as fuck. When I’d seen her at Mr. Robinson’s house, my body had gone all tingly and shit, even more so when she’d sung the lyrics I’d written with her in mind. Hell if I didn’t want to fight for her. I wanted to do more than fight. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her she was the woman for me. But I couldn’t do that unless I got past my vengeful nature that had been simmering in my veins for years.

  We stalked down the blacktop. “Bro, we’re here to ask Donovan to apologize to Mom.” I’d promised my mom I wouldn’t do anything that would lead to bloodshed, which was getting harder to uphold. I was thankful that Kelton and Kross were busy with other life things. Otherwise, things could have gotten ugly, or uglier.

  “Fuck asking,” Kade said with his fists at his sides.

  Halfway down the driveway, I swung my arm out and jumped in front of him. A furious Kade would only lead to something far more than cuts and bruises. “Take a breath. We’ll talk to him. If he throws the first punch, then I won’t stop you or me from defending ourselves.”

  Kade clenched his jaw.

  I slid to his side as we continued down to Donovan and Lowell.

  Lowell rode out in his wheelchair to meet us. “Hi.” His brown eyes assessed Kade then me. “I told you yesterday, Kody, that I didn’t want any trouble. I still don’t.”

 

‹ Prev