“What did she say?” I whispered.
“She tried to hit me, sobbed her eyes out, kept saying it wasn’t her, nearly collapsed against Demetri, then charged me again. Then he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into his waiting Mercedes where she’s been ever since.”
“In his car?” I asked confused. “Why?”
“She refused to get out until she could see you.”
I smiled at that.
“Sobbing either means she’s not guilty or a good actress,” Jaymeson said in a soft voice. “I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know her well enough, but this isn’t the time for broken hearts, not when your brain needs all the help it can get.”
“I didn’t tell her.”
“No,” he said in a dry tone. “Really? Shocked.”
“It would have freaked her out.”
“It freaks me out.” He scooted his chair closer. “Do you even realize how hard it’s been? Keeping this secret? Like you’re here for vacation when I know my house is the last house you may live in before surgery? That each moment you and I hang out, you could drop dead, do you think I enjoyed watching you hole up in the darkness every single day letting the anxiety get worse and worse? Shit, man, seriously?”
“I’m sorry.” I put my guitar down on the bed and cursed for a few minutes before regaining my composure. “When I called, I just needed to escape, the album wasn’t coming along like I needed. I didn’t sleep because I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up. The anxiety was hell, probably because it was getting snowballed by the whole impending death thing….”
Jaymeson sighed and reached down for the bag of marshmallows.
“What are you doing?” I frowned.
“Trying to de-stress… Zane style.” Jay popped two in his mouth and chewed. “It’s not working.”
“Let her in.”
“What?” A piece of half-eaten marshmallow tumbled out of his mouth. “She could be a lying treacherous bitch, and you want to let her in? On potentially the last night before brain surgery? Are you insane?”
I sighed. “Maybe. I don’t know. I just… I need to hear it from her. I need to see her say it wasn’t her, see her face you know? If it was her, I’ll know.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes.” No. I just… I’d come to rely on my friend, on my other person, the one who promised to keep me no matter what the circumstances.
But more than that, her arms were my security, her words a blanket.
Which meant I needed to end things.
What was done was done.
It wasn’t fair to her — to kiss her today — to fail her tomorrow.
To take everything.
To give all.
And have an unhappy ending.
It wasn’t fair.
And I would be damned before I let her suffer with guilt and anxiety the way I had for most of my life — over something she had no control over.
Yes, she might have betrayed me.
But I was the guilty party.
Because when she said thank you for telling me everything.
I had remained silent.
Silence was the devil.
Fallon
“He doesn’t mean it.”
“He’s harmless.”
“He’s British.”
All the things Demetri kept repeating over and over and over again, until finally, I glared at him and shakily grabbed my phone sending Zane another text.
I had no idea if he even had his phone.
But I had to try.
Mags was in the back of the car probably having a minor breakdown that she was with one of the members of AD2 while I was just so worried about Zane, I felt sick to my stomach.
Fallon: Are you okay? Zane, I swear, I would never, ever do anything like this to you.
Fallon: Zane! Please. I know I’m acting crazy, but I need to know you’re okay, that you’re breathing. Just, send me something. I don’t care if it’s mean.
Fallon: I would never betray you.
While sending the last text, a knock sounded on our window. It was Jaymeson, and his expression was angry. At least angry is better than sad. I could deal with angry.
“He’s okay.” I said it as a statement, hoping he’d confirm.
Jay jabbed his finger at me. “Hurt him, and I’ll use his cell phone, find that stupid cousin he claims has connections to the mafia, and pay them to make you disappear.”
Demetri let out a low whistle.
“Demetri, watch Mags while I take her in.”
Mags nodded encouragingly while Demetri tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “At least our boy is still alive.”
My stomach dropped to my feet when Jaymeson whispered. “Maybe not for long.”
Our walk was tense, silent, chilly.
I hated every minute of it.
When we got to the hospital room, Jaymeson stopped and opened the door. “I meant what I said.”
“I did too.”
It was a stare down.
Finally, Jay sighed and hung his head, “Be good to him, Fallon.”
With jerky yet numb steps, I went farther into the room as the door clicked behind me, and gasped as Zane looked up at me through pain-filled eyes.
Something was wrong.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Zane…” Tears welled. “I’m so so so—“ I choked on the last word and then reached out my hands, not really sure what to do.
He held up his phone. “I know.”
“No, I didn’t do it, I swear. I have no idea, I mean, I kind of have an idea, I was talking to Mags, defending you. We were in a coffee shop, and all I said was that you hadn’t slept with anyone, that she shouldn’t talk about you that way. I never came out and said anything, but I was so mad, and I should have told you the moment it happened—”
“Coming to the damsel’s defense.” His smile was weak. “About damn time, Fallon.”
“I wanted to try being the prince for once.”
“How’d that work out for you?”
“Bad.” I sniffled. “Really, horribly bad.”
“I’ll say.”
I sat on his bed and held my hands, twisting them together. “She would never say anything, I don’t know how anyone could possibly have found out, and Jay’s pissed, blaming me.”
“Cameras with sound.” Zane sighed.
“What?”
His smile still looked pained. “The story was leaked by the store owner. He asked for a hundred grand for it.”
“WHAT!” I yelled. “Who does that?”
His eyes locked on mine with a desperation I’d never seen before in another person. “Sick people. Ones who see a quick way to make money.”
I hung my head, guilt making my shoulders heavy. “Still, I shouldn’t have been talking about it.”
“You mean, defending my honor?”
I nodded.
“It’s okay.” His voice was hoarse. “It’s fine.” He was too dismissive of the entire thing.
“It’s not okay, but I’m glad you know it wasn’t me, that I would never do that to you.” I reached for his hand.
He jerked back.
His expression the same, sad, desolate thing, it had been when I walked in.
“It’s not exhaustion is it?” My voice was wobbly, uneven, like I wasn’t sure of the words, like I didn’t know my own language.
He swallowed and shook his head.
“Are you going to be okay?”
He shrugged.
“Zane…” I went from being unsure to pleading. “Please, just… tell me, tell me you’re going to be okay, and that it’s just a freak accident, like being dehydrated or going without marshmallows for too long.”
He cracked a smile. “Remember the nervous breakdown everyone thought I had? When I got my concussion?”
I didn’t like where this was going. “Yeah.”
“I had a CT scan, typical when you have a concussion. They found
something, they sent for another test, then another, then another.” My skin went cold. “I have an aneurysm, one that the doctors aren’t sure will heal on its own or need to be removed. It’s in a place where they are about eighty percent confident they can clip the thing without killing me, if need be.”
I reached for his hand again, this time, he held it, too scared to be upset that he hadn’t told me. “Did it dissolve?”
His voice was a whisper. “No.”
“Is it… leaking?”
“Not yet.”
“So… you have to have surgery?”
“I’m waiting to find out.”
“What’s there to find out?” I jumped to my feet. “If they can fix it, they need to fix it!”
“Let me see…” Zane sighed. “Ticking time bomb or Russian Roulette?”
“Stop smiling!” My voice caught in my throat. “This isn’t funny! This can’t be solved by marshmallows or being naked.”
His eyebrows shot up. “No?”
“No!” I yelled. “It’s… this is bad.” I paced the room. “Did we call all the best doctors? Do you have them flying in? Are you going somewhere for the surgery? Can you even fly?”
“We?”
“Stop fixating on the stupid things!” I clenched my hands together. “Of course we’re a we. I’m keeping you, you promised.” Tears welled in my eyes threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. “You—” my chest felt heavy “—promised.”
Zane held open his arms. I crawled into them, ducking my head against his chest while he ran his hands along my bare skin.
“I want you to go,” he whispered, and I tensed. “You’ve kept me. I’ve kept you. Now it’s time for you to move on, Fallon. Not because I don’t want to live in a world where an us exists, but because I can’t stand the idea of that world being shattered by a freak accident like my death. I refuse to go into surgery if you stay because I know you. I know you, Fallon. You’ll make me promises, you’ll refuse to leave my bedside. If I’m not okay, if I wake up, and I’m not the same, you’ll be stuck with this worship of the man I was, and that’s not fair to you.” He subjected me to an intense stare. “Or to me. So I want you to kiss me, I want you to kiss me so hard you can’t breathe, and then I want you to walk out of this room and go to college. I want you to outsmart every guy you meet, I want you to experience life to the fullest. I want that future for you, especially now that mine is so uncertain. Can you do that for me?”
I sobbed against his chest. “No.”
He let out a curse. “Why the hell not?”
“Because…” Tears continued to stream, I couldn’t stop them, I couldn’t. “Because she left you, even though she had to go, she left you, and you needed her. And now you’re going to leave me, don’t you see? I need you. I need you!” I slammed my hand against my chest with little effect. “It’s unfair to tell me you’re going to keep me, only to toss me away when we need each other the most. It was unfair of your sisters to abandon you, unfair that you had to fend for yourself. And the minute you gave yourself to me, I swore I would never be that person. I swore you would never see my back. Ever.”
“You have a sexy back.”
“Be serious.” My lower lip quivered.
“I am.” He ran his hands down my spine. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Distraction won’t work. If you want me to leave, you’re going to have to physically remove me and note I’m not above using sex as a way to stay by your side.”
“Damn it, stop being so stubborn.” His face twisted with anger. “Just go! What if I don’t want you? What if I’m tired of you?”
I kissed him.
As hard as I could.
As hard as he asked me to.
Until I couldn’t breathe.
Until I couldn’t think.
When our mouths broke apart, he let out a rough curse. “That wasn’t playing fair.”
“Keep me,” I begged. “Please.”
“That’s my line.” His eyes locked on mine. “That’s been my line all my life.”
“And now it’s mine.” I kissed his hands. “Let me stay.”
“And if something happens?”
“You’ll know you were kept.”
“Yeah.” He sighed resting his forehead against mine. “And so will you.”
Zane
I should let her go.
It was my new mantra, the damned sentence kept going on repeat over and over in my head until finally I just tuned it out and watched as she made a little marshmallow tower on my hospital tray.
“It’s going to fall.”
“Shhh!” She placed a marshmallow on the top of the pyramid and pulled back just as it took a tumble sending the thing crashing down. “Ugh.”
“My turn.” I rubbed my hands together. “You forget,” I licked one side of the marshmallow. “It’s about the lick.”
Her face turned bright red.
“I’d love to know where that little mind of yours went right now.”
She turned redder.
“That good huh?” I whispered, wishing like hell we weren’t waiting for the stupid results from the surgeon to see if we were moving forward or just waiting for my little bomb to go off. I would have loved nothing more than to lock the door, pull the curtain, and devour those red lips.
“I can be quiet.”
“Hell…” I wiped down my face with my hand. “Are you seriously trying to kill me?”
She maneuvered her little body next to me, tossing a thigh over mine as her knee slowly raised up and rubbed against me. “Really. Quiet.”
“How…” I cursed as she ran a hand down my chest and cupped me. “Quiet are we talking? Like church quiet? Library quiet? Parents are downstairs quiet — holy shit—” Her hand moved beneath the blanket and under my hospital gown, fingers gripped around me and slowly began something I knew I wouldn’t ever want to end.
“This quiet.” She kissed my mouth and pulled back. “See? No screaming.” A pitiful moan escaped my lips followed by another dirty curse as she moved faster. “No yelling.” She gripped harder. “Just. Silence.”
The buzz of the hospital was the only sound.
That and my heavy breathing.
Just as a knock sounded at the door.
She jerked her hand away and covered my lap with a blanket and pretended to be stacking marshmallows again while I was left wondering what horrible existence I must have led to deserve the type of pain I was experiencing. Not just pain, lust, blinding lust.
Shit.
“Doc.” My voice came out hoarse, great. “How’s it going? How are the kids?”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you hot?”
“So hot,” Fallon said under her breath.
I was going to strangle her.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll open a window later.”
“They don’t open.” Still deadpan. Why couldn’t they have given me the funny surgeon? The one who works on kids and hands out lollipops with stickers that say I have an ouchie.
“Right. A walk then.” I tried to tell my dick to stop straining against the blankets in blind search of Fallon. “Walks are. Awesome.”
Fallon giggled.
I elbowed her.
The doctor’s raised brows showed boredom and a bit of irritation as he crossed his arms and sighed. “With your permission, we’ve elected to do surgery.”
“Surgery.” I repeated. The word tasted funny as it crossed my lips. “Do you think it’s completely necessary?”
“Dr. Thomas has consulted on your case, and she feels if you were to leave today, it could stop growing, maybe heal itself, but if it doesn’t, it will eventually kill you. Perhaps now? Perhaps years from now. The point is, you need to get to Portland as soon as possible.”
Fallon gripped my hand in hers.
“Portland.” I sighed. “Okay, so are you guys discharging me now or—”
“We have an ambulance waiting to take you. Dr. Thomas and her team are already prep
ping for surgery this evening. No eating anything until after surgery, you can have clear liquids and ice chips.” He nodded. “Any questions?”
“Yes.”
He turned, paused.
“What are my chances in surgery?”
He frowned. “Dr. Thomas is one of the top brain surgeons in the United States, you’re very lucky she chose to stay in Portland for—”
I waved him off. “I don’t need to see her degree. I’m sure she’s great. What I want to know is, what are the chances that surgery will go well? That I won’t wake up needing to be spoon-fed oatmeal every morning while someone changes my diaper?”
His eyes darted to Fallon and then back to me. “Attitude is everything, Mr. Andrews. If you believe it will go well, it will. If I tell you your chances are ten percent, you may give up.”
“Ten percent?”
He cracked the first smile I’d seen grace his grumpy face. “See? Already you look defeated. And ten percent is a made up number. You’ll be happy to know Doctor Thomas has a ninety percent success rate with cases like yours. You’re in very good hands.”
I exhaled. “Okay.”
“She’s not family.” He directed this at Fallon. “She can’t ride in the ambulance.”
“I’m the only family he has,” Fallon said in a stern voice. “If you need me to go marry him right now so I can jump in that ambulance that’s fine by me. But sometimes you don’t need blood to be family. Family is a word that means life or death, and this is one of those situations, which means I’m family.”
His shoulders tensed. “But the fact still remains, you aren’t family.”
“I’ll ride with her.”
Yeah, he was going to murder us before I even made it to surgery. “You can’t just drive to the hospital!”
“Who said anything about driving?” I shrugged. “It’s less than two hours away.” I squeezed Fallon’s hand. “We’ll get there just as fast.”
“But we can’t monitor you.”
“I probably need those discharge papers now,” I said in a cold voice. “Since my family… will be taking me to Portland.”
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