by Emilia Finn
I grab her arm and swing her around. “She’s okay?”
Kari nods and gives me a hopeful smile. “She’s a little scared, a little shaken up, her voice is scratchy, and she’s pissed she missed school today. But…” She stops at a space hidden only by curtains, tears it aside, and reduces me to bawling sobs when I come eye-to-eye with my baby sitting up in her bed.
Her eyes are red and swollen. Her lips. Her entire face shows swelling. And when she sees me, it all turns worse when fat tears escape and slide over her cheeks.
“Lyss.” I stumble into the space, and throw myself over her so our chests touch, and I bury my face in her hair. “Baby. You’re okay?” I pull back, press a kiss to her cheek, her temple, her hair, then I bury my face again. “Oh my god, baby. You nearly scared me to death.”
“She’s strong.” The blond medic – Luc – sits in her little visitor’s chair and smiles when our eyes meet. “She wasn’t letting it hurt her for long.”
“You saved her life?”
He shrugs. “Pretty sure the double dose of epinephrine literally seconds after her breathing slowed was what did it. But I was there for the end. Mitch, my colleague, he’s doing paperwork and shit right now, but he was the one that finished saving her life. Got the tube in when lots of others might’ve said it was too tight.” He looks to Lyss. “Your throat will hurt a little bit, sweetpea. But it was worth it. I swear.”
“Who gave her the pen?”
“Brooke,” he answers softly. “She doubled up, slammed the meds into her system, and tried to breathe for her until we got there. From start to our arrival, only a couple minutes had passed.”
“Will there be…” I look to Lyss, swipe tears from beneath her eyes. “Damage? Anything permanent?”
He shakes his head. “She’s pretty lucid. Still knows what five plus four equals. She knows what day it is, and how to write it.” He looks to Lyss, and flashes a playful grin. “I couldn’t do that when I was in kindergarten. She knows her name, her age, what year it is, and who her teacher is. We’ll have a doctor come through a couple times today, make sure I didn’t miss anything. But I think we’re good.”
“So just…” I frown. “It’s gonna be okay?”
He nods. “It’s gonna be fine. Pretty epic way to get out of school, pretty girl. But maybe next time just break your leg or something.”
Lyss smiles. She’s trying to be brave, but the smile falls into sadness within a second.
“I doubt they’ll even keep her overnight,” Luc says. “They might, but don’t be surprised if they don’t.”
“What did she react to?” I look from Lyss, to Luc, to Kari. “Peanuts are the only reason she’d need the pen, right?”
Finally, Luc’s easy smile dims. “Yeah, it was peanuts. She… uh…” He coughs to clear his throat. “Be gentle, okay?”
“Be gentle?” I look around. “What do you… where’s Brooke?”
Brooke
He Hates Me
“He does not hate you.”
Bry kneels by me in the hall. A hall I knew Kari would bring Miles down on their way to Lyss’ ward. I’m only thirty feet away from the family I so desperately want to keep, but I hide from them.
As soon as I knew Lyss was gonna be okay, I hid, and then I grabbed Bry as they passed, and now I think my heart might be giving out.
“It’s my fault, Bry! It’s my fault she nearly died.”
“It was lipstick, Brooke. Nobody knew they hid peanuts in lipstick!”
“Luc knew,” I cry. “He knew right away.”
“And you know how to do a perfect triangle choke.”
His words slow my tears, my hiccups, my racing heart as I look up to my big brother. “What?”
“It’s his job to know that stuff, Brookey. But he doesn’t know the choke. We can’t all know everything about everything. It’s impossible.”
“I almost killed her, Bryan. I may as well have spat peanuts into her mouth.”
“Slight exaggeration.” Groaning, he lowers all the way to the floor, presses his back to the wall I lean against, and then pulls me under his arm until my tears start all over again. “It was an accident, Brooke. It was pure accident, and not something most people would know to be careful about.”
“I kissed her on the lips.”
“Exactly.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “You were taking your little girl to school, you were sending her off for the day, you gave her a kiss goodbye.” He brushes the hair out of my eyes. “Mom was still nagging us for a kiss when we were in senior year. On the lips, Brooke. These Kincaid women are obsessive. That’s not your fault.”
I laugh, but it turns to a pathetic sob in the beat of my heart. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Bry. She told me she wanted a mommy for Christmas. You know how you all keep asking for her list? I got it out of her, and the only thing she wanted was a mommy.”
“Easy done. I’m gonna say that was from her favorite Uncle Bry.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I’m gonna tie a ribbon in your hair, add a tag, and drop you on the end of her bed on Christmas morning.”
“So stupid.”
He laughs. “She loves you, little sister. And while it may be a little weird to me that my baby sister has a baby, I’m pretty fucking happy it’s her. She’s amazing, and if anyone gets to be her mommy…”
“She asked to keep me, Bry. And in answer, I kissed her and nearly killed her.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re not Poison Ivy. You don’t have a lethal kiss. You just chose shitty lipstick today. Get rid of the lipstick, and you can kiss her again. It’s kind of an easy fix.”
“And next time I mess it up? Next time I do something I had no clue was bad for her?”
“Would you prefer Iowa marry someone else?” He cuts me down. Hurts me. Kills me. “He could find a new girlfriend. Maybe she has a lipstick fetish and doesn’t love Lyss enough to quit it. Would you prefer that?”
“No, shut up. You’re not helping.”
He chuckles. “I think I am. Because you’re smiling a little.” He presses another kiss to the top of my head, but stops, freezes halfway, when footsteps echo on the tile, and draw our eyes along Miles’ long legs.
He wears shoes today, unlike last time he was called in an emergency. The sweatpants he stumbled into this morning. The hair he still hasn’t brushed.
Bry pulls back from me and pushes to his feet, then he blocks my line of sight, makes it so I can’t see Miles, and brings me up so I stand and meet his eyes. My big brother is not even a year older than me, but he grew taller fifteen years ago. Broader. Stronger.
He smiles for me, and bends a little lower so I look into his eyes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? It was an accident. And there’s no one else on this planet that’ll love her as much as you and him. Sometimes shit happens, but everything is fine. She’ll be home soon, and then you can snuggle in bed and feed her sorbet until she explodes.” He brushes my hair back, presses a kiss to my brow, then turns to face Miles. “Do I need to stand guard?”
“You!” Another voice, feral and enraged draws us around.
Lorna storms along the hall with her shoulders pushed forward like a bulldog readying to attack. “You! This was your fault.”
Bry steps in front of me, shields me, and snarls when Lorna reaches around him and snags my hand to yank me forward.
“This was your fault!”
“Back up,” Bry growls. “Back the fuck up from my sister.”
“It’s your fault,” Lorna screeches. “You nearly killed my granddaughter.”
“Lorna!” Miles pushes forward and tears my hand from hers. He steps between us so I see two broad backs. “You’re not welcome here.”
She thrusts a hand forward, an accusatory finger, and shrieks when Bry grabs her wrist and squeezes.
“She’s a danger to my granddaughter!” She grunts and tries to break her hand free. “Let me go! I’m going to fight you on this,” she growls
at Miles. “I’m calling our lawyer, and then we’re going to the police. Lyssa is in danger when she’s in your care.”
She yanks her hand free, and glares when I step around my shields. “You said that we can’t remove her from a happy home. I will remove her from an unsafe home.”
“She’s not unsafe,” Miles snaps. “And you’re out of your fucking mind if you think you’ll get anywhere near my daughter.”
“She almost died today!” she screeches. “She almost died, and it was because you trusted her to your current girlfriend.” She says the word like it’s dirty. Like I’m one of a million women he leaves Lyss with. “She has no rights to Alyssa.”
She looks to me. “I will fight this until my dying breath. I will make it so you never see my granddaughter again.” Then she looks to Miles. “The only way you will keep custody of her is if you show the courts a united front. Be with us, Miles. Do the right thing, come home, and then no one loses out.”
“Mom?”
My gaze snaps along the hall, and my stomach threatens to revolt. Our crowd grows, and my ability to breathe decreases.
“Karla. Sweetheart.” Lorna spins away from our group, and rushes to her daughter. “Momma’s gonna make this better. I swear I will. Come on.” She tugs Karla’s hand and drags her closer to us. “We’re going to see Lyss. Which room?”
“No you’re fuckin’ not,” Bry growls. He steps away from me, and bars the hallway. “Karla is welcome, because she’s proven herself to not be a flaming fucking idiot. But you; go see your lawyer, go feed them your shit about danger. We’ll await the court orders.”
“But—” Lorna’s eyes grow as she blusters. “Who are you? Why are you here?” She looks to Miles. “I’m going to fight you on this. We will fight you.”
“You do that.” He steps closer, shoulders Bry aside, and bends a little to get on Lorna’s level. “Fight me. I dare you. Because it’ll feel so much better when you’ve run yourself into the ground and lined the pockets of a lawyer for a case you cannot win.”
He looks to Karla. “Get rid of her, and I’ll lead you to Lyssa. But for as long as you’re with her, you’re shit out of luck.”
“Momma.” Karla’s eyes are shadowed, low. Undemanding. “Let’s go, Mom.”
“Karla!”
“I said let’s go.” She switches their grips so she’s holding her mother, rather than the other way around. She looks to Miles. Then to me.
I feel like she has a million things to say, a million questions, a million demands. Perhaps even a million apologies. But instead, she drags her screeching mother away, and leaves the way they arrived.
“Oh my god.” I press a hand to my heart the second they leave my sight. “Oh god.” I crumble back, now that I don’t have to stand strong.
“Iowa?” Bry turns to Miles and studies him with a lifted brow.
“Can Brooke and I have a minute?” His words are soft, but I swear, there’s anger in there too. “Lyss asked if I could send you in. She misses you.”
“I shoulda bought her that damn pony.” Bry turns to me. “You gonna be okay?”
“I—”
“She’s fine,” Miles snaps with exasperation.
Instead of taking issue with his attitude, Bry only shows me a playful wink, then he turns and wanders away to leave us alone in the hallway.
“Miles,” I begin. Brand new tears flow over my cheeks, heavy and hot and heartbroken. “I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Lipstick, huh?” He wanders forward. Slow steps. Torturous movements. “Fucking lipstick.”
“I’m so sorry—”
“I didn’t know cosmetics have hidden allergens, Brooke.” He stops in front of me and bends his neck, just like he did with Lorna, but at the same time, not at all the same. “I’ve made it a point to be as knowledgeable on this as I can. But cosmetics…” He shakes his head. “That one is new to me.”
“We were talking,” I cry. “And she said some things that made me nervous, so I started fussing in the mirror while she talked it out.”
“What was she talking out?”
“Her Christmas list,” I choke. “I told her a story about how I’m Santa’s helper, and she needed to tell me what’s on her list, otherwise how would Santa know?”
He chuckles, and when I deserve a jab to the face, all he does is slide a finger under my chin and draw my eyes up. “Clever story. What was on her list that made you uncomfortable? In all this time, I’ve never seen you put lipstick on. Eyeshadow, eyeliner,” he points at his eye, “black stuff on the eyelids to make you look like a panda.”
I laugh and cry. Choke and sob in one.
“You’ve worn glossy stuff on your lips to make them sparkle. But not lipstick. That’s fancy. And you…” He shakes his head. “You’re not fancy. You’re B.K., and you spend your days in a treehouse with your trusty steed guarding the fort.”
“She wanted a mom,” I breathe out. “A special mom. One that knew her and loved her and would never leave her.”
His eyes flick between mine as he frowns. “That makes you uncomfortable? You don’t wanna be that person for her? Do you plan to leave us?”
“No. I do want to be that person,” I wail. “But the way she asked… and you weren’t there…” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t want to have a conversation with her that you might get mad about. I didn’t want you to think I fed her the words.”
“I would never think that.” He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. So calm. So shocking. “I already told you I want to keep you.” He pulls back and studies my lips. “No lipstick.”
“I took it off.” I sniffle. “As soon as I knew… I took it off.”
“You saved my daughter’s life.”
“I put her life in danger! Just like Lorna said,” I counter. “I shouldn’t have kissed her.”
“Lorna’s a fuckin’ idiot that needs more help than I can give. Brooke…” His eyes flick between mine. “If I wasn’t screwing around at breakfast, I would have driven Lyss to school. Doesn’t that make this my fault?”
“What?” My heart races. “No. If we didn’t…” I widen my eyes, in lieu of the words, “you know, this morning, then we wouldn’t have been running late.”
“Damn you for seducing me,” he laughs. “Maybe if I wasn’t so sexy, you wouldn’t have tried to seduce me. That brings this back to my fault.”
“You’re not taking this seriously.” I try to brush him off. “Miles… I’ve never been so scared in my entire life, and you’re not being serious.”
“You’re being serious enough for us both. The lipstick was an accident, Brooke. Then you saved my daughter’s life. Do you think I should tie you up in town square and beat you with a bag of bricks?”
I shake my head, and bring my sleeve up to wipe my nose. “Worse. I think you should take her away from me.”
“You want us to leave? You want to go the rest of your life without us?”
I shake my head. Then cry, “I love you. Both of you. I don’t want you to leave.”
He smiles. Steps in until my back presses against the wall. Then he slides his lips over mine and swallows my cry. “I’m not taking her away. I’m not leaving you. And I refuse to hurt you over an accident when you’re so busy hurting yourself.” He cups my face, holds me captive. “If you’re willing to keep us, then we’re sticking.”
The Finale
Stacked Deck is in its third day, in its third year of operation, and only one fight stands between me and victory. This dude I don’t even know stands between me and seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
Christmas is two days away, my daughter is healthy, my girl typed The End on her book just this morning, so now I make my way through a crowd of fighters and spectators as the lightweight women fight for their belt. Lucy isn’t fighting this year, since she’d rather save her legs for dancing. But Evie is up soon.
Then me.
There are hundreds of bodies inside this buildi
ng tonight, sweaty, loud, adrenaline-pumped, but they’re here for the sport, for the atmosphere and the fun. The Kincaids have done an amazing job taking what could have been a sketchy, dangerous, underground event and keeping it safe for everyone that attends. The sport is still top-level, but when the buzzer sounds, the fighters part, and everyone goes home to their families at the end of the day.
I make my way through them all, accept pats on the back from fans, hug my friends and the mom I might have kissed a couple months back. Then I bump fists with Mac as he stands with his dancing girl, and they watch the division she won the first year the tournament was in operation.
“You ready for this, Iowa?” Mac holds Lucy close, but his attention is on me. “I mean,” he shrugs, acts totally cool about the fact he’s not fighting this year, but a fighter is a fighter in their blood. He’s jittery like a crackhead that needs a hit. “If you wanted to forfeit, I could step up for you or whatever. Same division. I’ve been training you and all that, so if you can’t do it…”
I laugh. “Maybe next year you can sign up, and we’ll settle this bullshit for real. First year might’ve been a fluke, second year, you ran scared. This year, Rollers are paying me, and they don’t enjoy that conflict of interest.”
“Maybe next year you fund your own ride, then there’s no conflict.”
“Gonna be kind of conflicting when he marries my cousin,” Lucy drawls. “But whatever. I’m here for it. I wanna see that fight.”
“Ya know…” Evie stops beside us with a wide, wicked smile, and bumps my shoulder with hers. “In my family, we have ways to settle these disputes. No belts, no cameras, no money.”
“Yeah?” I turn to her. “What’s the Kincaid way?”