“I love you so much, Emma. We’re going to get through this, OK? Together.”
She nodded, almost believing it this time. “Together.”
Chapter Twelve
Dean wrapped another blanket around Emma, feeling helpless. Even though her face was burning up, she was freezing; her body was shaking so hard, the whole bed was rattling. She moaned and clutched the edges of the blanket, trying to pull it closer and tighter. She closed her eyes.
He sat next to her and took her hand. He couldn’t do anything about the poison being pumped through her veins and flooding her small body, but he could let her know that she wasn’t all alone.
“Baby? Can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes a bit and nodded.
“You want some water?”
“N – n – no,” she managed to get out between her chattering teeth. “Thanks.”
They stayed like that for a while, not talking. Suddenly Emma sat straight up and gasped. “Dean…”
He grabbed the bucket from the bedside table and held it for her as she vomited. He put his hand on her back, holding her steady as she heaved and retched, over and over. She caught her breath, vomited again. With trembling fingers he stroked her hair off her hot forehead and murmured to her that she was OK. Her whole body was tense under his hands and he rubbed her back and shoulders, trying to calm her down.
I’d do fucking anything for it to be me instead… anything to spare her this.
She crumpled, going limp under his hands. Carefully, he eased her back down to the bed and she opened her eyes. They were glazed with confusion and hurt and his heart damn near broke in half.
He rinsed her face gently, pulled her up and in to his arms and gave her a few ice chips. She leaned on his chest, no strength in her body at all. He rocked her back and forth, felt her breath slow. Then she started to throw up again.
When she finally fell in to a restless sleep, Dean went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. He got the feeling it was going to be a long night. As he stood and drank it, he thought about Liv, Kat and Jenny, and shook his head as he realized that they had been through this over and over again with Emma. His admiration and affection for them went up another few notches: they were great women, great friends.
He heard a knock at the door and went to answer. Dallas stood there, looking worried.
“Thought I’d check in. How’s the post-chemo going?”
Dean waved him in. “Fucking terrible, man. She’s been puking for four hours straight. Sleeping now, but I can’t say for how long.”
“Goddammit,” Dallas said softly. “This disease is a motherfucker.”
“Yeah.” Dean rubbed his eyes. “She just keeps getting her ass kicked, you know? Yesterday she felt almost like herself and she was cooking and laughing, today she can’t even sit up without my help. It’s just unbelievable that the medicine that’s actually helping her is what’s doing this to her.”
“I know. You want to take a break? I can stay for a while.”
“No, it’s OK, thanks anyway. I want to do this for her… I want to really know what she’s been through these past few months while we were together. I just – I still can’t believe she was dealing with all of this and never said a word.”
“She’s tough, man.”
“Yeah, she is. I just hope she’s tough enough.” He looked down the hallway. “There’s still worse to come.”
**
A few days later, Jim walked up the steps to Dean’s porch. The door was open and he knocked on the frame.
“Emma? Hey, Emma? It’s Jim.”
There was no answer. Alarmed, he stepped in to the house.
“Emma? You here?”
More silence.
Fuck. Is she passed out cold somewhere?
“Emma!”
“I’m here.”
Relieved, he barrelled down the hallway towards her voice. He passed the bathroom, something caught his eye, he backed up.
Oh, shit. Oh, no.
She was standing and staring in the mirror. Massive clumps of her beautiful hair were in the sink; Jim saw bald patches on her head. She looked devastated.
“Oh, Emma,” he said. “You OK?”
She looked at him. “Yeah. Yeah. I mean, it’s just hair, right?”
He was silent, knowing full well there was a hell of a lot more to it than just that.
Emma looked at herself again. She lifted her fingers to her hair, tugged. Another huge chunk came away in her hand and she burst in to tears.
Without even one second of thought, Jim stepped in to the bathroom and took her in his arms. “OK, sweetheart, it’s OK. Come here.”
She clutched his back, shaking all over. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath.
This fucking disease. It just never stops breaking her heart. Dean’s, too. All of ours.
He held her until her small body went still against his chest, then he pulled back and looked at her. He’d never seen her look so broken and it killed him that she was at that point. It was like her dignity was being stripped from her, one small thing at a time, and she was dangerously close to losing the will to fight. What Jim wanted more than anything was to help her find that fire again, to give her that fierce want to just live.
“What can I do, Emma? Tell me.”
She gazed up at him, thinking. “There is one thing.”
“Name it.”
“Can you take me to the hair salon where Kat works?”
He paused. “Yeah.”
“OK.” She gave a shuddering sigh. “Let’s go.”
“What are we going to do there?” He knew the answer, of course, but he still asked.
“We’re going to cut it.” She smiled and he felt relief when he saw that she looked like herself again. “We’re cutting it all off.”
**
Kat had been expecting it for the past few weeks, but when Emma showed up at the salon, she was still upset at what surely had to come. Jim was with her, and he looked equally shaken. Kat met his eyes and they both shook their heads, almost imperceptible movements that spoke volumes of pain and anger.
“OK, Kat.” Emma sat in the chair calmly. “You know what needs to be done.”
“I know, sweetie.”
Emma extended her hand to Jim, and he sat next to her, her cold fingers curled in his huge hand. Kat stood behind her, scissors held up. Jim noticed for the first time that Kat’s hair was now a vibrant red and he blinked. Every time he saw her, she looked completely different and he wondered if this was required for her job.
“Ready, Em?”
“Yeah.”
Kat’s hand didn’t shake much when she made the first cut, held a long piece of Emma’s hair in her hand, dropped it to the floor. They all looked at each other in the mirror. Emma pressed her lips together and nodded. Kat raised the scissors again. Again.
Jim watched, silent, as Emma’s hair fell in dark clouds at his feet. Her fucking gorgeous hair, so thick and warm, was every man’s fantasy. Every time he had looked at it, all he could think about was grabbing handfuls of it. And it was all gone in just a matter of a few minutes.
Kat stepped back. “All done.”
Emma sat and looked at her reflection. With a hesitant hand she touched her head, ran her fingers over the cropped hair remaining. She looked at Jim.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said. “And Dean is going to think so, too.”
She looked uncertain.
“Really. I promise.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re beautiful.”
“You are,” Kat said. “You have no idea just how much.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “OK.” She took a deep breath and stood up. “OK.”
Her cell phone rang and she dug in her bag, hoping that it was Dean. She started whe
n she saw the number. “It’s Doctor Fife.”
Jim sent up a fervent hope that it wasn’t anything bad. Kat shot him a look of panic and he felt the sudden and inexplicable urge to hug her, to offer her comfort and take some of his own. They stood there watching Emma answer the call, their hearts in their throats.
Jesus Christ, no more bad news, please. Come on, come on. Just give her a fucking break, OK?
“Doctor Fife?” Emma sounded calm enough, though she was gripping Jim’s hand hard enough to cut off the circulation.
She listened for a few seconds, and they watched as her face lit up.
“Really?” she said. “A match?”
Kat gasped. Jim broke in to a grin. At the exact same time, they reached out to each other and clasped hands, needing to be physically close to someone when they heard this first piece of good news.
Emma was nodding. “Is it from the national program list?” She looked at Jim, gratitude passing across her face in a beautiful flash of light. “It’s from one of the private donors…”
Kat turned to look at him, too, and on impulse, she hugged him. His muscular arms wrapped around her, returning the embrace, liking how it felt to hold her even for a few seconds. Kat closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Without him and the other guys, this would never have happened. They got her the matching stem cells. We all owe them – we’ll never stop owing them.
“OK,” Emma said. “I’ll be there for the final testing. Thank you… see you tomorrow.” She disconnected and looked at them. “I just – I don’t believe it. A bit of hope, for the first time in months. It’s just… it’s amazing.”
They stood together, arms around each other, laughing and crying. Everyone in the salon stared at them as they made a total spectacle of themselves, but they truly didn’t care. Not in the slightest.
**
They were all sitting in the hospital, waiting to hear that Emma was out of surgery. The mood in the room was tense; they had all been taken aback when Emma had fully explained the risks of the transplant. All this time, they had thought that once the donor was found, Emma would be in the clear. They had had no idea about the possible post-transplant complications, and they hadn’t known that her body may well reject the donor marrow. They hadn’t known that the transplant may kill her, kill her faster than the cancer itself. But without the transplant, she had no chance at all – so here they were, waiting.
Jim got to his feet and they all looked at him.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” he said quietly. “You all want some?”
They nodded and then Kat got up too.
“I’ll come with you,” she said. “I feel like I need some air.”
“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Dean barely heard the conversation. He was sitting in his chair, staring at his hands and trying to remember to breathe. The thought that Emma may not ever be in his arms again was firmly in his mind, and he was fighting a rising sense of panic.
Chris leaned over and touched his shoulder. Dean started and looked at his friend.
“We’ll know soon,” Chris said. “It won’t be much longer, man. Just hang in there, OK?”
“Yeah,” Dean said.
Chris shifted his gaze to Jenny. She was sitting next to him and she looked scared to death.
“Hey, you OK?” he said.
Her light blue eyes were teary. “Not really.”
He longed to touch her too, but he just had the feeling that it would be a bad idea. Something about Jenny reminded Chris of a wounded animal, and he was sure that if he reached out to her, she’d turn and run. He settled for smiling at her and was relieved when she tried to smile back.
Liv’s cell phone beeped and she took it out of her purse. She read something and her face turned white. Across the room, Dallas sat very still, studying her. It was clear to him that something had upset her.
Liv stood up. “I have to answer this, guys. Be right back, OK?”
They all nodded again, not even looking up at her. Dallas watched Olivia leave the room and walk in to the small kitchen down the hall. Without a word, he followed her. He stood in the doorway, observing her quietly.
She was staring at her phone again, her eyes wide. She glanced up at him and he blinked when he saw her beautiful face: the look on it was terror mingled with disgust.
“Olivia?” Dallas stepped in to the room with her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“Bullshit,” he said. “What is it?”
She hesitated, then she handed him the phone. Dallas glanced down at it and was shocked to see a close-up picture of a penis ejaculating. Under it, someone had written ‘I’LL CUM IN YOUR FACE FUCKING SLUT. SUCK AND SWALLOW CUNT ’.
“What the fuck, Olivia?”
She looked shaken, but was trying to stay calm. “It happens all the time, Dallas. I get obscene texts and e-mails. It just – it comes with the job.”
“The hell it does.” He was furious, and he fought to keep his tone pitched low. “You’re going to report this, right? You have a security detail?’
“Yeah, of course. They know all about this guy already.”
He paused. “What? How many other texts has he sent?”
“I don’t know… maybe forty over the past two months.”
Dallas stared at her. “Forty? And they’ve all been like this?”
“Oh, no. At first they were just texts, and not even very filthy ones. Just more – I don’t know. Insulting, I suppose.”
“OK. Then they got more aggressive?”
“Yeah. And sexual. Then he started attaching pictures.”
“And all this time, nobody has figured out a way to stop him?”
“Well, I had my PA Nigel change my cell number when it first started, but whoever it is has managed to get a hold of my new number somehow.” She twisted her fingers. “I keep meaning to get another phone, but Emma has been my priority and Greg says it’s nothing to worry about, anyway. It’s just some asshole annoying me.”
“Who the fuck is this Greg? Because he sounds like a moron to me.”
Her eyes flashed. “Greg Wallace.”
Dallas groaned. “Shit, Olivia. From Blue Star Security?”
She bristled. “Yeah. So what?’
“So they’re a bunch of fucking hacks over there is what. They’re just a group of yahoos playing bodyguards… they have no idea what they’re doing.” He didn’t add that most of them had little or no real training at all and that Blue Star was where you went when you flunked out of the police academy, or got dishonorably discharged from military service. He knew of two guys for sure at Blue Star who had raped female soldiers, and one guy who had beaten a black teenager almost to death in a bar fight. It was a mess over there, and Dallas knew plenty about the dangerous situations that Greg and his team had put their clients in through sheer stupidity, inexperience, and laziness.
“My manager Larry hired them,” she said. “He’s worked with them before with other clients and he says they’re great.”
I’ll just bet he did. Larry is probably getting a healthy kickback from Greg and the boys for sending your business their way. Or maybe he’s just a moron, too.
“OK, OK.” He held up his huge hands to placate her. “If you’re happy with your security, that’s great. But do you want me to look in to this for you?”
“You?”
“Yeah, me. I do know a thing or two about protecting clients and that includes identifying a threat. I have four staff members who do nothing but handle all my IT stuff for clients. If anyone can track the cell phone this crap is coming from, it’s them.”
“Greg says he’ll do that.”
“Tell him to hurry up.”
“Why? Why hurry up?”
“Because, Olivia, this guy i
s escalating. Blue Star has to do some due diligence here and get the police involved. You push for that, OK?”
She looked at him, took in the tension in his broad shoulders. His gorgeous face was hard and his eyes cold. “Wait,” she said. “Are you saying that – that I’m in actual danger?”
Dallas looked at her and softened a bit. “I don’t know,” he said gently, trying not to scare her. “But I don’t want you to take any chances, you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
He took out his wallet and handed her his business card. “I know you have my cell already, but this is my private line, just for my personal clients, and it’s on twenty-four/seven. You call me if you need me, OK?”
She put it in her purse. “Thanks, Dallas.”
“Sure.” He paused. “And I suppose it’s insane of me to ask this, but have you told any of your friends about what’s been going on?”
“Of course not. They have other things to worry about right now – way more important things.”
He gazed down at her, liking her more and more all the time. Olivia was a hot piece of ass, no doubt about that. But she was also a good friend, a good person. He wasn’t happy that she was keeping this from the others, but they’d all spent a lot of time together over the past few weeks and he had come to know her pretty well. He wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that she had decided to say nothing; Olivia wasn’t about to take anyone’s focus off Emma and her needs for one second, not if she could help it.
Several times, he’d even forgotten that she was a rich model. Unlike lots of celebrities that Dallas had worked with on protection, she didn’t have an entourage of any kind, not ever. Dallas had never even met her real PA, some guy named Nigel. The only time it ever occurred to him anymore that Olivia was actually known was when someone approached her for a picture or autograph. She agreed every time – no matter what was happening with Emma – and she had always been kind and appreciative. His respect for her had grown, and he knew the guys felt the same way about her.
Jenny appeared in the door. “The doctor is here.”
They hurried to the waiting room. Jim and Kat were back and the smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon buns filled the air. Dean was already talking to Hal Fife and he was nodding, looking relieved.
Enemy Within (Unseen Enemy Book 1) Page 14