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by T K Barber


  He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, focused on them. “I know. That’s gonna be hard. It’s already been hard.” He lifted his reddening eyes to meet hers, the words strained. “I almost lost you.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. She knew he wasn’t talking about today. Another tear fell onto her cheek. She patted the bed and shifted to sit criss cross under the blanket.

  Nick cleared the room and sat down gently, rubbing his eyes with a sigh. “I don’t like him.”

  Annalise shot out a laugh. That was the last thing she expected him to say.

  He failed at hiding his smile. “I’m serious. He looks at you too much.”

  Annalise gripped her stomach as laughs rolled through her. After a few seconds Nick joined in.

  Annalise wiped at her eye and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. “You wouldn’t like anyone. Besides, we love each other.”

  He nodded and his chest rose. “I know. I can tell.”

  She squeezed his hand again. “You’ll be okay, too. Scarlet will take good care of you. She’ll feed and water you.”

  He barked a laugh and shook his head. “You’re something else. Come here.” He tugged his hand free and pulled her into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you, squirt.”

  “Love you too, dork.”

  “Knock knock! I heard our patient is up and about.”

  A pretty, bubbly woman with long blond hair and dimples strolled into the room, grabbing two massive pumps of sanitizer from the station by the door.

  Nick released the death grip he had on Annalise’s head and stood up with a smile as he extended his hand. “Hi Dr. Parker.”

  She shook his hand with a wide smile. “Call me Li.” She stepped up to Annalise to check her wristband. “You gave everybody a bit of a scare, there, missy.”

  She patted Annalise’s forearm and checked the beeping machine, punching in some magical code that made it go silent. Annalise’s brain relaxed.

  “Your boyfriend was a wreck, fyi. So if he tries to go all ‘macho’ on you, you’ve got the deets.”

  Annalise snorted at her dramatic air quotes. “Okay.”

  Li wrinkled her nose with a smile and took a pen light out of her lab coat pocket, clicking it on. “Look straight ahead for me?”

  Super bright light flashed in Annalise’s eyes, and she blinked repeatedly. The light clicked off.

  “Looking pretty good for an old lady.” She winked and patted the outside of Annalise’s arm. “Your family said you’ve got support in place already, make sure you take advantage of that, okay?”

  She nodded. She’d need a new doctor for damn sure. Bare minimum.

  “When can I leave?”

  Li opened the file in her hand and scanned it. “Well.” She flapped it close and clasped it in front of herself. “How do you feel? Do you feel like walking around a bit?”

  Annalise nodded. “Yeah, I feel fine. I can walk no problem.”

  Li smiled, those dimples fully present. “Let’s see how you do with that. I’ll go ahead and do up the discharge paperwork. I’ll work some ‘magic’ and If everything is copasetic, we’ll have you out of here just as quick as we can. Maybe an hour or two.”

  Two polite raps on the door drew all their attention. Thomas smiled and threw Annalise a tiny two finger wave as he leaned against the door frame. Every butterfly in the world landed in her stomach, and she bit her grin as she waved back.

  Nick rolled his eyes and sucked in his smile. “I’ll tell Scarlet the news.” He pushed to standing. “Be back to check on you later.”

  Thomas straightened up as Nick approached and stepped to the side, letting him pass. Instead, Nick stopped beside him, glaring ahead into the hallway while he rubbed his chin. Thomas stared at Annalise, eyes wide.

  Nick cleared his throat and spoke to the hall. “Thanks for being there for her.”

  Thomas blinked and glanced up at the side of his face. “Always.”

  Nick placed a halting clap on his shoulder, nodded, and walked through the doorway. He took a left and was gone.

  Li twisted back to face Annalise, and put her hands up in the air, more dramatic air quotes at the ready. “See? ‘Macho’.”

  Annalise chuckled and shrugged. Li faced Thomas and gestured for him to come into the room.

  “What’s up T.V.? How are you feeling? How’s the scar?”

  “Hey, Li.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “A’ight I guess. Well. Except I took a few fists to the gut today.”

  “Lemme see.” She flapped her fingers, gesturing for him to lift his shirt.

  Thomas raised his brows and passed a glance between her and Li. “Uh, okay?”

  Was he still worried about her seeing them? She let the side of her mouth curl up. Well, she’d just have to keep showing him how much she loved every part of him.

  He untucked that side of his shirt and held it up as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

  She mashed gingerly around and on his side, pausing when he’d grimace. She hummed a couple of times and straightened up.

  “So. You are going to have some bruises, which you probably already knew. You can let that down.” He jammed his shirt back into his waistband, and she patted his arm. “It wouldn’t hurt to do an x-ray, but I think you should be okay. Of course, if anything changes you know how to reach me.”

  “Yeah sure. I will.”

  She smiled and gestured to the door with her head. “Take your girl for a stroll down the hall, okay?” He nodded and smiled when she turned around. “Annalise, I won’t be back before you leave, so take care of yourself.”

  “I will. Thanks, Li.”

  Then, in a swirl of bouncing blond hair and waving hands she was gone.

  Thomas lifted his brows, jammed his hands back in his pockets and took a giant, sliding step across the space. “Heya, gorgeous.”

  She giggled. “Hey, handsome.”

  His chest rose and he grinned. “Let’s stretch out them hot as hell legs, so we can jet.” He held out his hand.

  Annalise bit her lip as she slid her palm across his. Walk or run. Underwater or straight up a mountain. She’d take that hand and follow him anywhere.

  Thankfully, all she had to manage right now was a short trek on some waxed linoleum tile.

  Lyle

  Each page hurt. Like a knife to the chest. Jaime’s sleepy smile looked up at him from under the plastic sheet. Little Thomas, nestled in the crook of her arm.

  His jaw clenched, and he swallowed. He had spent the first six months of Thomas’s life afraid he’d break him. A small chuckle escaped.

  Flip.

  Nataly and Thomas playing with blocks or some such nonsense. He winced. They had been inseparable. She’d been so happy to have a brother. And I took that from them. His stomach soured, and he flipped several pages ahead.

  School awards. First place ribbons. Third place ribbons. Certificates. He cleared his throat.

  Flip.

  Jaime with Nataly. Jaime with Thomas. Jaime alone. He gnashed his teeth. Why were there so many damn pictures of her?

  A hard flip.

  Hand drawn fathers’ day cards. His heart clenched. Had he ever seen those? She must have shoved them in there. I didn’t deserve them.

  Flip.

  A laugh burst forth followed by a cheek rub. Thomas covered in flour. Head to toe. Grinning like he’d won the lottery. That was quite a mess. His smile dropped, and he choked down a lump that tried to climb out.

  He rubbed his temples and glanced at the empty walls, then to the bottom of the bookcase where all the other albums sat untouched for years.

  Was he wrong? What else could he have done?

  Allowing himself to show affection today was logical. That’s what needed to happen in that moment to cement the—he groaned and covered his face. And after? Was that just part of the plan?

&
nbsp; He needed Thomas to—

  A car door thudded at the rear of the house startling him. He slapped the album closed and launched to his feet.

  Whoever it was didn’t feel the need to hide their approach.

  His heart hammered. Anyone in his employ would come to the front. Thomas used the back door, but he’d be in no state to drive.

  He ran a hand through his hair as he walked. Each step brought into view more of the car he dared to hope would be there. His throat closed. Here. She was here. Why?

  He snatched the door open, met with the person he’d only seen on that porch one other time. Over twenty years ago.

  “Marianna! What—” He composed himself and stepped out into the cool night air. He moved in front of her and reached out to her face without a second thought, then dropped his hand before contact.

  “You’ve been crying. Why?”

  Prickles of anger formed in the back of his mind before she even answered. Whoever had hurt her deserved to die. She nodded but smiled.

  Why was she . . .

  “It’s alright. No one to blame but myself.”

  He watched her swallow, following the motion down her slender neck. His gaze continued sliding down as his eyes caught far more skin than he expected to see. He raised his brows and his heart took off as he looked back up at her. Then a thought struck him that nearly blinded him, and he narrowed his eyes.

  “Are you going on a date?”

  She laughed, and his entire body relaxed. He hadn’t heard that amazing sound in a long time. It made his heart ache. She shook her head and shifted just a hair closer to him. His nostrils flared and he pulled his face back to peer into her eyes.

  “Why would I come here if I was going on a date?”

  Oh. He blinked. Obviously, that wouldn’t make any sense. What a foolish question.

  “What are you doin’ here, Mary?” He scanned her beautiful face, so much closer than she’d been in years.

  The freckles that lightly dusted her cheeks were almost invisible unless you were right in front of her. Or knew where to look.

  She frowned and sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. Where we came from. What we were. What we aren’t.” Lyle grunted and crossed his arms. “And it occurred to me, as I said, that it’s all my fault. All of it. We could have been . . .” She trailed off, shrugging. “But I ruined it.”

  He kept his expression neutral. Did she honestly believe that? Better still, did she expect him to just fall into that trap blind? Hardly. He smirked.

  “What brought about this epiphany? Was it the fact that I now control Thomas?”

  The fine muscle in her jaw jumped, and she dropped her gaze to the wood planks under their feet. “No.”

  He grunted. “Well then. Did you get lonely in your overly large house? Is your fortune not enough to keep you warm anymore? It’s certainly not because Ian’s gone. That was months ago.”

  Her eyes widened and flashed in anger. She reared back to slap him, but he caught her wrist and jerked her forward, hard into his chest.

  “Careful. I might start to think you still have feelings for me.”

  He tightened his grip and a short breath escaped her lips. He narrowed his eyes again as heat stormed through his body.

  “You know, I wish I’d known money was all you wanted before it was too late. Maybe you’d have chosen me instead of that rich daisy.” His heart screamed, but it was too late to stop now. “How did you manage in such a loveless marriage? Did ya let him have his boyfriends over?” His sly grin spread across his face. “Did he let you watch?”

  She curled her lip in anger and he didn’t catch her other hand in time. The sound was sharp, but his head barely moved. She wasn’t aiming to hurt. He chuckled low in his throat.

  Her chest rose and fell faster. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh give me a break, Mary. Everyone could see it. Even in high school he and Marco—” He tilted his head. “You can’t seriously think no one knew. Even if you hadn’t been there nearly every day, tutoring’ his damn little brother, you could have seen it down the street. Even Vincent knew, an’ he kept his head buried in bo—!”

  “I’m not talking about IAN!” She sucked in a breath. “It wasn’t money, Lyle! You know my dad didn’t—and Mother was—”

  She squinted and chewed her bottom lip.

  Yeah. He knew her father wanted an in, and her mother was a grade-A bitch. Which is the whole fucking reason they—

  “Ian was good to me! To us.”

  The absurdity of that statement drew him back to the present. Lyle laughed and snagged her other wrist as well, holding her gaze as he pulled it up to his mouth. His mind nearly blanked when the scent of her skin wound its way back into his heart.

  “Was he as good to you as I was?” His lips brushed against her.

  Her eyes fluttered. This was an unacceptable level of torture. Obviously, he knew the answer, but watching her was mesmerizing. Her skin—he let out a low hum and pressed his lips to her pounding pulse point.

  “Did he make you scream his name?” He grazed her with his teeth, and his stomach clenched when she shivered. “Make you pray?”

  He moved further up her forearm, alternating between kissing and grazing. She was breathing in bursts and each of his heartbeats slammed in his chest. He pulled her arm, moving her closer still, their bodies touching everywhere they could, and brought his mouth to her ear. He whispered through a smirk.

  “Did he make you beg?”

  She moaned and tucked her ear toward her shoulder. He chuckled and leaned back, moving his mouth back to her arm.

  “Lyle . . .”

  He dropped her right arm and gripped her left with both hands. He pushed her sleeve further up her arm while she followed his movements in rapt attention. He continued up her arm, right to the edge of the sleeve. He flicked his tongue against the crook in her elbow and she let out a short gasp.

  “So on edge. How long has it been, sweet Marianna?”

  She bit her lip but didn’t reply. He creased his brow in concern and caught her gaze, then spoke firmer.

  “How long has it been?”

  She let out a short laugh and shrugged. “Years. Far more than a few.”

  He blinked repeatedly and dropped her arm. “Are you serious?” She shrugged and he blinked again. “Not with anyone workin’ for you? Not even your lap dog?”

  She scoffed and crossed her arms. “I was married, Lyle. That would have been wrong.”

  He blinked at her again, and let out a loud laugh, his heart fluttering in his chest. It’d been a long time since he’d laughed that hard. He grabbed her hips and hummed as he leaned down to her ear again. She put her hands on his arms and he tensed at the contact, little jolts of electricity at each point.

  “It wasn’t wrong when we did it.” He nipped her earlobe and she jumped. “Of course, that’s because I do everything right.”

  Her fingers turned into claws and she trailed them down his arm, drawing a breath from him this time, as he leaned down and kissed the side of her neck.

  “You’re different now, Lyle.”

  He froze. Of course he was. He bared his teeth in an angry snarl and only barely avoided biting her. He spoke, his lips brushing her skin.

  “What did you expect would happen, Mary?”

  Irritation bled through and his heart slammed. Of course, he was different. But she was still the same manipulative, horrible . . .

  He clenched his fists and jerked his head backward, glaring at her.

  Tears. They haunted him. He cried every one he had when she left him, and never wanted to see another again. This needed to be over. This hold she had. He needed to let her go, but the sight of those tears clinging to her lashes enraged him and broke his heart.

  She had no right to cry. None. He snarled again, and she closed her eyes.

  “Tell me you’re sorry, Marianna.” Her eye
s snapped open and searched his. “Tell me!”

  A tear fell down her cheek, but she didn’t answer. He’d give her no choice, this would end tonight. He gripped her shoulders.

  “Tell me, Marianna.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Tell me you’re sorry you shattered my heart. Tell me you’re sorry you gave up everythin’ we had, just for money! Lie to me!”

  “I—”

  Not fast enough.

  “Admit that you hated me. Still do, in fact! That’s the other reason, right? The real reason? You never loved me. You just . . . fuck . . . used me? Strung me along as some sick distraction.” Her eyes widened and she pinched her brows in sorrow as he fumed. “Admit it!”

  “I loved you with all my heart, you know that.”

  He clenched his jaw and grabbed a fistful of her hair. She gasped and clutched his wrist with both hands.

  “Stop lying to me!”

  Her voice wavered despite the hard words. “I don’t hate you, Lyle.”

  He searched her face, raw pain on his own. “Why not?!”

  She blinked several times and opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Damn it, Marianna!”

  His hand shook and she winced as his grip tightened. “Do you hate me, Lyle?”

  He scoffed and glanced at the sky, then back at her. “Yes.”

  “You don’t,” she whispered.

  He yanked her head closer, their mouths a breath apart.

  “Oh, I hate you.” He tilted his head to look her in the eye. “I hate you almost as much as I love you.”

  Her breath caught and she put her hand on his face, stroking her thumb under his eye. His brows twitched, the anguish coming through loud and clear as he spoke, despite the fact he knew he should try to hide it. But he couldn’t. She was here.

  “I hate that I think about you constantly. I hate that every single time I had sex with my wife, it was YOU I thought about! I hate that I had to raise our child with another woman. I hate that I still want you—God—just as bad as that first time I saw you round the lockers the fourth day of senior year.”

 

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