Loving the Bad Boy

by Shanae Johnson

  Something was wrong. But what?

  “Is this the new friend you were telling us about?” asked her mother as she opened the fridge.

  “Yes,” said Cat. “We’re hanging out today. We’re gonna check something off my bucket list.”

  “No, we’re not,” said West.

  “We’re not?” asked Cat.

  “Not in your condition.”

  “My condition?”

  “Her condition?” Silvina let the fridge door close. “Dios Mios. Catalina, are you pregnant?”

  “No!” Cat and West said in unison.

  “We’ve only kissed,” said Cat.

  “I would never,” said West.

  Cat turned to him. “Wait, never? Why would you never?”

  “Cat,” West sighed.

  “I mean, I know I’m not like the other girls you date, but—”

  “There are no other girls,” said West.

  “Then why would you—never—with me?”

  West opened his mouth and then closed it again. It reminded Cat of a fish out of water. In fact, it reminded her of her time back in middle school. When all the kids found out she had been sick and stepped out of her path. When she’d started losing her hair again after her second round of chemo. The few friends she’d made had opened their mouths, they’d moved their lips, but no words came out. Because they didn’t know what to say. No one knew what to say to a kid who was possibly dying.

  “Wait,” said Cat. “You know. Don’t you?”

  West’s silence confirmed it. Just like the kids at school. Some had sneered and avoided her like she was contagious. Others had grimaced and looked at her as though she were the walking dead.

  West wasn’t backing away from her like she had cooties, but neither was he giving off any kissing signals.

  “Cat…” It was all he said. But it was enough. There was resignation in his voice.

  Cat’s heart skipped beats, stopped, sped up, and slowed down all at once. She didn’t want to hear this. She pushed past him and ran out of the back door.

  When Cat heard West calling after her, she pushed herself harder. She wasn’t supposed to run. But she wasn’t supposed to do so much of anything. She’d gotten to live life to the fullest in two days. But in two seconds, her entire world came crashing down.

  Cat had fallen in love, and it hurt worse than an IV missing a vein. It hurt worse than toxins being pumped through her body. Her heart hurt so much that it made her entire body feel like she was breaking.

  So she ran. She ran as fast as she could. Until she couldn’t run anymore.

  And then everything went black.

  18

  West

  Time was not following the normal rules. Seconds elongated into hours. The whole of the day reduced down to a single moment. Everything slowed down as West watched the emotions race across Cat’s face.

  There had been happiness at seeing him on her doorstep. There had been embarrassment as her mother plied him with food and inquired after her future grandbabies. There had been devastation when Cat realized he knew of her diagnosis. And finally, despair as she ran from him.

  West hadn’t been sure what he was going to do with the information about Cat’s previous diagnoses when Rose dropped the bomb on him. He knew he needed to see Cat when he learned about the illnesses. He needed to know that she was still here, still real.

  He’d run down Main Street and through her upscale neighborhood. The thought of one of the Sheriffs pulling up and cuffing poor trash like him had been the furthest thing from his mind. West just needed to get to the woman who made him feel like he was worth a million bucks.

  But his legs had felt heavy as he wove through the expensive cars. His heart had beat fast as he raced over manicured lawns. He couldn’t catch his breath as he ran up the steps to her door.

  Now, time slowed as Cat ran from him. She wasn’t fast. He knew he would catch up to her in a few strides. But in those few strides of distance between them, he had time to think.

  Just like in the movies, a montage of images, scenes, and sounds flickered in his mind’s eye. Cat holding his face after kicking what she thought was a soccer ball at his head. Cat grinning up at him after fleeing the scene of her ballistic crime, asking West “What if I want a little trouble?” Cat flying out of the trees and into his arms. Cat grinning as her third dart hit its target, and she hefted the oversized teddy bear. Cat holding Dinck, giving her the hug and snuggles that only a woman could. And then Cat in his arms as he had the first taste of her.

  West had only known this woman for two days. And yet somehow, the thought of her no longer being in his life sickened him to the very core of his being. He couldn’t remember the man he was before Cat. He couldn’t remember what his days were like before her. What did he do with himself?

  He didn’t care to remember. Cat was in his life now, and he wasn’t letting her go. No one had ever made him feel like he mattered, like he could be more, and was worth so much.

  Time regained its normal pace. West pushed himself to catch up with the woman he wanted to spend his future with. When he caught up to her, the whole world ground to a halt.

  West’s arms were outstretched. His fingers poised to wrap around her and bring her into his arms, where he knew she’d fit. Where she belonged.

  Before his fingertips could graze her, Cat’s body went limp. Like a light switch shutting off, her eyes closed. Like a sail without wind, her body sank to the ground.

  West made use of his open arms. Before Cat could impact the ground, he reached out and caught her. He’d never noticed how slight she was until now. She barely weighed a thing.

  Her skin looked pale. Her breathing was ragged. Her eyes stayed closed.

  What had happened? Was she sick even now? Had the running taken its toll on her?

  West lifted the precious bundle in his arms. Rising to his full height, he ran back to her house.

  Unlike his race through Main Street to get to her house, the return there via the backyard was swift. His body moved with purpose. His mind was focused and alert. He had to save Cat.

  When West returned to the back door, Cat’s mother stood on the threshold. But she wasn’t alone. A tall man darkened the doorway. His gaze shot daggers at West.

  “What have you done?” shouted the man. “Silvina call an ambulance.”

  “I don’t know what happened.” West said as he approached the man with eyes so like Cat’s. This had to be her father. And this had to be the worst first impression he could ever make. “She was running, and she just stopped and collapsed.”

  Cat’s father snatched his daughter from West’s hold. West had to fight to unclench his fingers from Cat’s cold skin. In the end, he relented.

  He didn’t know what the matter was. She’d been perfectly fine when he’d arrived at her doorstep this morning. After she realized he knew about her condition, she wasn’t.

  What if this was his fault?

  “You’re the one,” said Cat’s father, as he brought her inside and placed her on the couch. “You took her out for hours the other day doing God knows what.”

  “Zip lining.” West wanted to tell the man that he’d stopped Cat from skydiving. But it didn’t look like he was in the listening mood with his daughter passed out in his arms.

  “She can’t handle things like that. She’s sick. She’s fragile.”

  West didn’t know who this man was talking about. The woman he’d just laid down on the couch was vibrant and strong and full of life. At least she had been until West had decided to go after her.

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “You’re Cat’s father and—”

  “I’m the new town judge, and I will have you arrested.”

  Once again, time went out of whack. West wasn’t sure how long he stood in the doorway looking down at Cat’s unresponsive form. The whirring sound of the ambulance barely penetrated his consciousness. He watched the paramedics examine Cat as her mother and father fussed
over her. He watched as Cat was lifted onto a gurney. When they wheeled her out the front door, West made to reach out his hands to her.

  Only, he couldn’t move them. Looking down, he saw that his hands were in cuffs. Sheriff St. Clair stood before him. St. Clair directed West to get up and follow him.

  But not with Cat. Cat went into the ambulance. West was ducked into the back of a squad car.

  19

  Cat

  Waking up was the last thing Cat wanted to do. The dream was too perfect. Well, mostly perfect.

  Cat was running across a moor. She had no idea what a moor was, having never seen one, but she knew that's where she was. Running across a mountain top filled with tall grass, shrubs, and blooms.

  She wasn't alone. West was beside her. Holding her hand, tugging her along.

  She came willingly. She'd follow him anywhere. She knew it was too soon, but Cat knew she was in love with West York.

  What she didn't know was why he was dressed all in black? Black lace-front shirt. No, wait, that was a tunic. Snug black pants with a sash at his waist. And why was there a mask covering his face? Also, why was she wearing a gown from a Renaissance faire?

  In her dream, West stopped abruptly. He glanced over his shoulder. Cat turned and did the same. Someone was following them. Someone who wanted to take her away from him.

  "Dearest love," said West.

  Cat could feel the enemy bearing down on them. But she wasn’t afraid. West had called her his love, his dearest love. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell West about her own feelings. But all that came out was, "I died that day."

  And then they were falling. Tumbling down the moors. For a time, as they bumped and bounced, West had held onto her. But after one particularly hard bump, they became separated.

  Cat’s eyes slammed open. More than anything she wanted to go back into the dream. The nightmare was in this reality.

  She lay in a cold room that wasn’t her own. It had the acidic smells, the disjointed murmurs, and the chill draft of a hospital room. Looking down at herself, she confirmed her suspicions when she saw the thin hospital gown. At least it was cloth and not paper.

  Looking to her left, she saw that she had more pressing things to worry about than her wardrobe. There was a needle in her arm. An IV was not a good sign.

  Slowly her memories came back to her. She had been running. Just not across a moor. She’d been racing through her backyard. West had been with her. Not holding her hand. He had run behind her. Trying to catch her.

  She’d taken a fall. But not down a hill. She’d fallen ill. She was sick again—sick and back in the hospital for treatment.

  What made her feel queasy was that West knew. He'd been there when she collapsed. The last thing she remembered was falling into his arms. He had held her. But he wasn’t here now. He was gone and never coming back. Because what man would want a future with a dying girl?

  The door opened, and Cat’s heart leaped. He’d come back. Because he was her hero.

  West was different. They had a connection.

  Apparently, not that strong of a connection—it wasn't West at the door.

  It was Nurse Al.

  "Oh good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

  Cat shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me. How bad is it? How far has it spread this time?"

  Nurse Al’s patients could typically tell what kind of news she was bringing by the movement of her eyebrows. If her brows lifted to the lining of her hijab, then the news was good. If her brows crinkled and pulled away from the cloth, the news was bad.

  As Nurse Al looked at Cat, her brows stayed in a straight line. “Oh sweetie, no. The cancer isn't back."

  Cat felt her brows lift to her hairline. Then they creased into a line of disbelief. “You mean you're still waiting for test results to come in?"

  Nurse Al shook her head. "No, Catalina. The tests came back early. Your current condition makes it clear why we had trouble reading the results the first time."

  "What are you talking about?" said Cat.

  Nurse Al sat on the edge of the hospital bed and took Cat’s hand. It wasn’t to comfort her. Nurse Al turned Cat’s hand over and grazed her fingers across Cat’s wrist. “The cancer isn’t back. You’re anemic.”

  “Anemic?”

  “Your fingertips are cold.” Nurse Al held up her hand. “What about your toes?”

  Cat wiggled her toes beneath the covers. They had felt like ice for the past few days.

  “Any headaches and dizziness?” Nurse Al didn’t wait for Cat to respond. Clearly, she saw the answer in Cat’s gaze. “You had low iron. That's why you passed out earlier. It looks like you’ve been physically exerting yourself.”

  Cat gave her head a shake. The move made her lightheaded, but she pushed past it. She needed to make sure she’ heard the nurse correctly. “You're saying I have an iron deficiency? Not cancer."

  "That's right."

  "You're saying I'm still cancer-free?"

  "This is a really good sign, Catalina."

  A good sign? It wasn’t good. It was hilarious. When Cat finally decided to go on adventures and start living her life, it was those adventures that made her sick.

  “It’s easily corrected,” Nurse Al was saying. “A regimen of iron tablets, a little R&R, and more leafy greens in your diet, and you’ll be good as new.”

  It wasn’t cancer. She wasn’t dying. Her life wasn’t going back to war with itself on a cellular level.

  Maybe if she could find West and tell him she wasn’t dying, maybe they could have a future together. One that involved short walks around the block, keeping both feet on the ground, and a lot of green salads.

  The door burst open for a second time. And for the second time today, Cat was disappointed at who was on the other side.

  “There’s my girl,” said her mother.

  "You had your mother so worried," said her father.

  “Are you hungry? You’ve been out for hours.”

  "Where's West?” Cat asked, looking behind them.

  Juan Carlos Garcia frowned at his daughter. "That boy nearly got you killed jumping out of trees.”

  "It was zip lining,” said Cat. “West talked me out of skydiving."

  "You're not seeing him anymore. You see what he’s doing to your mother?"

  "I'm an adult,” said Cat. “You can't tell me who to see."

  “West York is a criminal," said her father. "I've seen his record."

  "He pled to protect his unborn sister. He confessed to his mother’s crime because he didn't want to see his baby sister born in a jail. And for the last seven years, he’s taken care of her while everyone thinks he’s a criminal. West is a good man. Imagine who he would've been if he had you as a parent instead of an addict. Imagine who I would've been if I had his parents instead of you two. West spent seven years on probation for something he didn't do. All to protect his sister. And now, like me, he's finally going to start his life. And I want to be a part of it."

  Cat was out of breath after her impassioned speech. She’d never raised her voice at her father. She’d never given her parents any trouble. But this was something she was prepared to fight for.

  Instead of arguing with her, her father sank into the chair beside her bed. He pressed his fist to his mouth and averted his gaze. He looked like he was ashamed.

  Silvina turned to her husband, her expression fierce. “Juan Carlos, you need to fix this.”

  "Fix what?" The chill in Cat’s toes crept up her legs, and still her father wouldn’t meet her gaze.

  “Your father had West arrested at our house."

  "Arrested?” said Cat. “That would be a violation of his probation. Papi, you gotta fix it."

  20

  West

  West’s hands were free, but his heart was in knots. He didn't protest when Sheriff St. Clair opened the jail cell door. He walked into the metallic pen and took a seat.

  "This doesn't sound like you, York,” said the Sheriff as
the lock clicked in place. “Assault?"

  West slumped against the cold brick of the wall. He tilted his head back against the hard surface. Cat’s father had accused him of breaking and entering and assaulting his daughter.

  No, that wasn't him. West had only ever raised a fist to defend himself but never to a woman.

  He had been invited through the front door of Cat’s house earlier today. But last night he had trespassed. He’d climbed through Cat’s window and stole a kiss like the thief he’d been accused of being.

  With that kiss, he’d taken more than his due. Reputation or not, he wasn’t meant for a girl like Cat. She was soft, fragile. He would break her. He probably already had.

  The image of Cat’s face as she realized he knew the truth, the sight of her running from him, and then that fall.

  He had tried to stop her from checking more items off that crazy bucket list, but he'd still helped her with it. If he had stayed out of her life, maybe she would be okay right now.

  Was she okay right now? West scraped his hands over his face and back through his hair. He gathered clumps of his hair in fists and pulled, trying to regain some clarity. He needed to know that she was okay.

  West rose from his seat. The chill of the wall followed him. As he wrapped his fingers around the bars, he felt the tethers of cold wrapping around his entire body. Before he could call out for the sheriff, a familiar face appeared outside his cage.

  "What have you done, Mr. York?” said Ms. Deleon.

  West looked past his probation officer, but the sheriff wasn’t in sight.

  "You hit Judge Garcia’s daughter?”

  "Wait, what?" West's head snapped back to his probation officer. “I didn’t hit anyone. She was running and she fell—”

  “What were you doing chasing a cancer survivor?”

  "She's my…" What? His friend? His girlfriend? A girl he kissed and wanted more from? Could there even be more? "Is she okay?"

  “Catalina Garcia was rushed to the hospital," Ms. Deleon said. "It's not her you need to worry about. It’s yourself. I can't get you out of this. There will be no job at the school after this. You’re going to jail. Actually, you're already here. You're not getting out."