Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6)

by Freya Barker

  "Hey."

  I feel the couch shift when Mal sits down on the other side of me, curling me into his body. I willingly drop my head on his chest, where his hand finds my hair and starts stroking. "You okay, baby?"

  "Sad," I mumble into his shirt. "Just so sad about... everything. But also very blessed in a way. My mother has given me more in those last moments before all hell broke loose, than she ever did before. Those are warm and unexpected."

  "Mmmm." The rumble from his chest is comforting and I snuggle in deeper.

  "It just feels so empty—wasteful, you know? All these years, all that hurt and disappointment and I'd resigned myself to it. But now all I can think of is what we missed out on and whether it's too late to make amends or work things through."

  "I hear you. Believe me, I hear you. Just remember this though, whatever happens to her, hold on to those glimpses she showed you. They may have been very raw and uncensored, but also very real in a way that no amount of analyzing and working through history would've been able to accomplish. She may not even have realized the gift she was giving you."

  I lift my head and look up at his words. "A gift?"

  He nods his head seriously. "Your sister. She brought you your sister. Reconnected you. Hell, for all I know, the two of you may never be close, but I wouldn't let her disappear from your life again."

  I snort in response. "I don't think I could stop her if I tried. Have you met my sister? She has a successful career and kicks serious ass for breakfast. If she chooses to stay away, she will."

  "I don't see it that way. You're the strong one, the one with the power. You're the one with the friends who care for and accept you just as you are—not for your success, your money or your looks, but simply for you." He shoves Boo's head off me and lifts me to straddle his lap, taking my face in his hands. "You're the one who wakes up every day to a man who loves you. All of you. For your strength, your beauty, your honesty, your body, and your heart."

  The lump in my throat has grown to massive proportions and I struggle to swallow around it. The beautiful swelling in my chest so overwhelming, it's to the point of painful. I don't even try to hold back the tear that forms and rolls down my cheek, leading the way for the next one to follow, and the one after that.

  Mal smiles one of his rare and stunning smiles as he wipes at my cheeks with his thumbs.

  "I love you, Kimeo—my Nizhóní," he says, right before he slants his mouth over mine and kisses the pain from my heart.

  Deep and thoroughly his tongue explores and tastes, and before long I'm squirming in his lap, my hands tangled in the thick silky strands of his hair. I can't stop myself from moaning in his mouth, when his hips rise up and I feel the hard ridge of his erect cock rub against my core. I shamelessly rock myself against him, whimpering when I'm already close to exploding.

  In one move, he is up and my legs automatically wrap around him. I'm too far gone to question his ability to carry me as we make our way upstairs to the bedroom where he slams the door behind us, effectively locking Boo out. My hands are already under his shirt, running through the sparse hair and over his hard chest. The charge that builds when my skin touches his is almost tangible and makes me feel alive, free, beautiful.

  Our touching is intense, almost frantic. In no time I'm stripped bare under his skilful hands and bent over the dresser, my hands bracing me.

  "Stay just like that." His voice sounds jagged as I hear, more than see, him remove his clothes. My breathing is erratic with anticipation and the moment his large hands caress my ass cheeks I inhale open-mouthed. A tiny fragment of self-consciousness lingers until I feel his groan of appreciation vibrate against my pussy. The firm, rough rasp of his tongue licking me deep brings out goosebumps all over my skin and the shiver that follows is one of utter bliss. With my eyes closed, the sensations are multiplied tenfold and I shamelessly grind myself against his mouth.

  "Watch yourself when I make you come," he growls against my skin, and I open my eyes into the mirror leaning against the wall on top of the dresser. My face is a shock. Eyes glazed, lips wet and plump and a deep red flush on my chest and cheekbones. I look... vibrant, very unfamiliar, and when I feel Mal's touch disappear, almost lost. In the next instant he rises up behind me, his hands firm on my hips and his eyes boring into mine in the reflection of the mirror. His chin is shiny with my juices and I should be ashamed, but I'm not. The sight is arousing, with his long hair dark around his shoulders, his eyes devouring me and his body dark and muscular against my white and plump one. He slips his arms around me and pulls me up, one dark hand sliding down to cup me between my legs and the other one up to cup my breast.

  "I love the way you overflow my hands, the way our contrast balances me. You balance me."

  His words, his skin against mine, his cock hard with promise against the small of my back, I'm almost delirious with need. "Please..."

  One finger on the hand cupping me shifts and slides over my clit and I detonate on a sharp intake of breath and loss of orientation. I drop forward on my hands to catch my breath, but before I can even find my legs, Mal has the head of his cock slowly sliding through my folds.

  "Sweet Jesus," falls from his mouth as he seats himself deep inside me. My eyes find his again in the mirror. He's beautiful. We're beautiful together. He pulls out slowly before surging home again, and again, and again, until I see his jaw clench and his body bend over me, jerking his release. With his mouth latched onto my neck, I follow him over.

  Mal

  "You love me?"

  Her almost timid voice filters through my post-coital haze. After coming so hard I thought I'd go blind, I was able to maneuver us onto the bed, where Kim draped her naked and sated self on top of me. We've been lying here, tangled up in each other—touching—for at least ten minutes when she responds to my earlier declaration. For a bit there I thought she was purposely ignoring my words. Fuck. That would've hurt.

  The relief at her question bubbles out of me in a laugh and she pushes herself up on my chest.

  "I was afraid I might've misunderstood. That maybe it was a joke."

  "Fuck no. No joke, just worried. When you didn't say anything, I thought I'd fucked up." I spread my hand over her face, softly drag my fingertips over her features and watch her eyes flutter closed.

  "Thought maybe I'd been dreaming, or wishful thinking or something," she mutters almost to herself. "I never... I feel so much, sometimes I think I can't breathe, my chest feels so full. It's terrifying to feel so vulnerable to one person, but at the same time so very good. Almost too good to believe..."

  Her words trail and although she hasn't really come out and said it, what she does tell me is enough. I feel exactly the same way and trust me, vulnerable is not something I like feeling. Yet with Kim it feels safe—I trust her completely.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mal

  It happens on the way home from Grand Junction, where we'd just spent yesterday waiting in the hospital while the surgical team spent almost ten hours trying to repair Elaine's spine. They won't know for a while yet how successful their efforts have been. Kim's mom will be kept in a coma for a while to allow her body to heal. It may be a week or more before they even attempt to wake her up, so Kim had wanted to come home. She misses her dog, which is staying with my brother and Katie, and wants to move back to her house in Cortez. I'm not sure whether that is safe yet, but hate to bring that up with her. She's been through enough. That's why when I called Gus earlier this morning, I made sure Kim was still sleeping in the spare bedroom in her mother's house.

  I wanted to get an update because Hartnett had not been talking at all so far, but with warrants in hand, the FBI was peeling apart his home and his offices, and questioning his staff. They were bound to find something at some point. A couple of days ago, we'd had a meeting with the Sheriff's Office and Damian Gomez. It didn't go so well. When put on the spot about his lack of communication when they realized Hartnett had been en route to Cedar Tree, Damian
had tried to pass the unwritten 'need-to-know' rule off on us. That resulted with me up in his face, explaining in no uncertain terms that I held him personally responsible for putting my girl in danger.

  "We were waiting for Hartnett to communicate with his contact, but when he headed to Cedar Tree, we figured we'd have some leverage to make him talk if we could catch him red handed," he said, trying to justify his decisions.

  "So you used Kim and her family as bait?"

  When he shrugged his shoulders in response I lost it.

  I got exactly one hit in before Gus and Drew were pulling me back. And then Gus was sending me home. He told me although he didn't think Kim would be in danger from anyone but Hartnett, to keep a close eye on her. And I have—not letting her out of my sight for anything.

  We've just passed Monticello when Kim's phone rings.

  "Hello?...Oh hey, Naomi...Yes thank you, we're on our way back now. It was okay. They’ll try to wake my mother in a few days, but Britta has it all under control...Yes, Mal's driving."

  I watch from the corner of my eye and see Kim pulling her eyebrows together as color seems to drain from her face.

  "They did? What does that mean?...Okay, I'll meet you there."

  I pull off the road, first chance I have, shut the engine off and turn in my seat. "What's going on?" I ask Kim whose face is turned away from me. I cup the back of her head and turn her toward me. A cold fist grabs me when I see the stark fear in her eyes. "Kim? Talk to me."

  Kim

  So I hadn't exactly lied to Mal, but I hadn't told him everything.

  At the time, I felt I was enough trouble already and was afraid he'd go running in the other direction. In hindsight, I should've given him that choice. I can't explain this one away with vague references and blatant omissions.

  "That was Naomi," I point out the obvious in an attempt to delay and his raising of one eyebrow high, tells me he knows it. "She, uhh... got a call from the radiologist's office. They apologized, said my report had been misplaced, that they should've called sooner." The intensity of his eyes on mine and the tight clench of his jaw make me hesitate.

  "Go on," he prods.

  "She wants me to meet her at the hospital in Cortez. She's set up an appointment with a surgeon."

  "Why?" he bites out, struggling to maintain his composure and frankly, mine was gone five minutes ago. My entire body is shaking like a leaf and I'm afraid if I don't cry soon, my eyeballs will explode.

  "They found something growing on my thyroid." Naomi had actually used the word 'tumor' but I can't bring myself to say it.

  I'm so lost in my own head that it takes me a moment to realize that Mal has gone silent. A glance in his direction finds him looking at me studiously, as if waiting for me to give him more information. There is none. "Let's get you looked after." That's all he says, turning the key in the ignition and steering the truck back on the road. I'm confused and mostly want to puke, but I'm holding it together. Barely. It doesn't help that Malachi seems as far removed from me as he was that first time I saw him in Arlene's diner. A stranger. The only emotion he's showing is the slight twitch of a muscle by his jaw. I feel utterly lost.

  -

  I have no idea how long the drive to Cortez was, but I haven't really seen or registered anything until I notice us pulling into a parking spot at the hospital. Mal walks me in, with his hand at the small of my back. The moment Naomi sees us walk in, she moves away from the nurse's station where she was chatting.

  "So glad you're here. Dr. Mitcham is just finishing in the OR but suggested we use his office. Come with me." I start to follow Naomi right away but notice Mal's hand is not at my back anymore. Stopping I turn around to find him standing by the nurse's station, looking after us.

  "Hold up," I call out to Naomi as I retrace my steps and stop in front of a stoic looking Malachi. "Why aren't you coming?"

  He looks pained, his mouth a thin line, and his face good enough to beat out a poker game, but his eyes—his eyes swirl with dark emotion. "I don't think—" he starts, but I don't want to hear it. I need him with me.

  "Please..." My plea sounds breathless, terrified of having to face what is coming on my own. Mal rubs both hands over his face before he reaches out for mine and interlocks our fingers.

  "Let's go," he says resolutely.

  "Have a seat." Naomi gestures to the couch against the wall of the office she just showed us into. She turns one of the visitor's chairs in front of the desk around and sits down, facing us. "I'll start with the good news. You have what I suspected, Hashimoto's disease. It is an autoimmune disorder that affects your thyroid gland and wreaks havoc on your hormone levels. It is the culprit for many seemingly unrelated symptoms, but it can most definitely be regulated. Unfortunately, it is also a condition that leaves you prone to other autoimmune disorders, and some cases, to tumors. Thyroid lymphoma is a pretty rare complication, but it happens."

  My hand has stayed clasped in Mal's while Naomi is talking, and at her last words, I feel his fingers clench around mine. I'm not really processing what I'm hearing. My mind is stuck on tumors and lymphoma.

  Naomi pauses and looks at both of us. "So far any questions?"

  Neither of us move, too stunned, too scared, too confused. Any of those or all.

  "When we spotted a shadow on the ultrasound, I was already suspecting Hashimoto's but was thrown off a bit by that result. The MRI was necessary to confirm a mass and the placement of that mass." She leans forward and grabs my free hand. "You definitely have an abnormal mass on your thyroid, but we can't identify what it is or how to treat it unless we do a biopsy. Now because of the placement of the tumor, it may be difficult to do a needle biopsy, which is why I've called in—"

  A very tall, thin, older man in scrubs, with grey hair and glasses walks in and straight over to shake hands. "Hi there, I'm Dr. Mitcham. Dr. Waters filled me in on your case. Did she have a chance to go everything with you?"

  "I was actually just going to explain why a needle biopsy is not necessarily helpful for her," Naomi tells him.

  He sits down behind his desk and turns to us. "Where the mass is located is a difficult area to obtain an accurate needle biopsy from, so I recommend surgically removing it. For two reasons, actually. To be able to send all of the tissue for a proper pathology to be done and because even if the tumor turns out to be benign, it's size and location would likely interfere with the proper functioning of your thyroid. We need to get it out, and I'd like to do it soon."

  I'm struggling to catch up with this wave of information when I hear Mal speak up beside me.

  "How soon?"

  "In four days. I have a Tuesday eight AM slot that just opened up and I've pencilled you in."

  Mal

  I hate fucking hospitals.

  That's flashing in my mind as Kim and I walk, dazed, toward my truck. Neither of us has said much, although her hand is clutching mine like it's her lifeline. Numb would probably be a better description for what I'm feeling, but underneath, I can feel anger and fear fighting to break through. Without a word, I help Kim up into the passenger seat, get myself behind the wheel and drive off.

  The trip back to Cedar Tree is made in silence and when we pull up to Caleb and Katie's place to pick up Boo, Kim is out of the truck and rushing to the front door before I have a chance to get out of my seat. When I catch up to her she's sitting on the floor of the entrance, her arms around Boo's neck and her face buried in his fur. My brother and his wife look a little shocked, watching her.

  "What's going on?" Caleb mouths at me when I bend over to pick Kim up off the floor. It takes a small battle of wills when Boo decides that moment to become protective and growl at me. With hierarchical balance restored, Boo tentatively looks on as I pick a sobbing Kim up and carry her to the couch. Katie is there in an instant, wrapping Kim in her arms. I tuck my hands in my pockets, not sure what I'm supposed to do next. Up until about an hour ago, I had been so sure of what my role is, where I belong. Now, I'm at a lo
ss.

  "Come with me," Caleb firmly orders as he walks past me outside. I follow him to the picnic table under the trees where we sit down and stare out at the beautiful view. "Talk to me," he urges. "What is happening here? Did things not go well with her mother?"

  I shake my head, not sure how to explain. Not sure if I want to say the things I'm feeling out loud. Makes it too fucking real.

  "Mal," Caleb softly pleads.

  I take a deep breath and just like that, the shield of numbness cracks and the pain, fear and anger bleed out. "She lied." My voice cracks on emotion. "She said the MRI was just routine, but she lied. I knew something was off, I fucking knew it." I drop my head in my hands and instantly feel Caleb's hand come to rest on top of it.

  "Brother," he says softly, instant understanding in his voice. He would, he lived through it just like me. "She has can—"

  "Don't fucking say it!" I yell, snapping my head up. "I can't...I just can't." I push away from the table and start walking to the truck. I can't talk about it or it will be real. More real than I can handle. But before I have a chance to open the door, I'm swung around and pinned against the door by my brother's weight, his face right in mine.

  "You're not doing this. You're not running. Not this time, Malachi. You're not twelve, this is not history repeating itself. You hear me? Neither of us are running. This time we're gonna stand together and fight. You with me?" He slams my back into the side of the truck with every new sentence and it feels like every emotion inside me is dislodged. A raw yell bursts free, and instantly, I'm folded into my brother's arms. His voice firm in my ear. "She doesn't know, does she? Your Kimeo, she doesn't know how your life—hell, our lives—got ripped apart when cancer took Nasha How our family was left raw and seeping like a festering sore in the aftermath. How love was turned into a destructive emotion and something to be feared." I hear the emotion tear at my brother's voice as he remembers too, watching my sister slip away so quickly, we never had time to adjust.