by Anne Martin
I carefully put on my makeup and then walked out into the hall in my sensible nude pumps.
I stopped in the lobby to get some mail. An older woman was there, carefully colored and styled bob with a suit like mine only designer.
“Fine day,” she said with a pleasant smile.
“Sunny for certain.”
She smiled a little more warmly. “You’re from the south? I’m from Mobile.”
“That’s where my husband’s from. I’m from Gadsden. What brings you to Las Vegas?”
“Oh, I suppose I’m seeing whether or not the stars align.”
I blinked at her. She didn’t look like a gambler. That wasn’t a particularly ladylike pursuit. I fixed my smile so that it wasn’t quite so judgy. “How nice. I hope you enjoy your visit. Have a good day.” I turned and headed to the elevator and the parking garage where my Camaro was. As I pulled out of the garage, a bunch of people held signs and bounced around, apparently very excited about some celebrity who was coming. They looked kind of tough and rough to be average groupies. Maybe it was a rock concert or something. Hm. I should ask Oscar at the front desk what celebrities were staying in the hotel. He always got tongue-tied and big-eyed when I talked to him.
The clinic was forty-five minutes north of the city down a winding road. The low adobe structure was set in a beautiful landscape with the distant mountains and clear skies that were too blue to be real. I took a second standing by the car just enjoying the ambiance. I should stop on the way home and get some art supplies. The light was different here, more red tinted.
I was putting this off. Hopefully Doctor Fuller would be too busy to see me and I’d have to go back without seeing her. I was such a coward. I headed down the pleasantly winding path beneath overhangs to shade it. There were fountains every so often to contrast with the heat and aridness. I wanted to sit down on the edge and put my feet in. Again, more delay tactics.
I walked faster. Best to get this done to ease my conscience and my curiosity. When I got to the front doors, no one was in the pleasant peachy waiting room that looked more like a hotel lobby than a clinic.
I stood there in front of the glass doors feeling like an idiot for not calling when a man came in from the back. He was cheerful and handsome.
“Hello! What can I help you with? Are you lost?”
I smiled at him and raised my hand, kind of subtly flashing my wedding ring at him. His warm smile didn’t change.
“I’m looking for Doctor Fuller. If she’s too busy to see me, I completely understand.”
He snapped his fingers. “Sunshine Wilson?”
“Hammer. I’m married.” I flashed my ring at him again. That time he nodded and his confusion cleared up like there was some reason to be confused.
“I’m Doctor Albright. Let me go get Doctor Fuller. No, why don’t you come along so you don’t have to wait.” He started down the hallway wearing jeans and a t-shirt unlike a doctor.
My heart pounded harder and harder. I had to stop and take a few deep breaths before I could continue. Doctor Albright stopped and waited with me like it was normal. Of course it was. He’d seen all the stages of my disease and could probably approximate exactly where I was at in it.
“Your father gave so much to this work,” he said with a warm smile.
I smiled back and batted my lashes at him. “That’s right. He gave his life, his mind, his health, and his last few years, all so your field could have a little more knowledge about what not to do.”
He flinched at the poison in my voice. Oh, good. I’d worried I’d been too subtle. “I understand.”
“Do you? Your mother died giving you life and your daddy died trying to cure you?”
He frowned and shook his head, but it wasn’t a ‘no,’ it was an, ‘I’m the doctor here and you should be grateful…’ that kind of thing.
I held up a hand. “Don’t bother. My daddy was a doctor and that whole voice of authority never worked with me. I’m here to see Doctor Fuller because she’s an old family friend and I treated her rudely when she showed up at my hotel yesterday, not because we’re on the same team. Not her and I, not you and I.”
His mouth tightened and he finally stopped smiling. If he were a southern gentleman he would’ve kept smiling. I should have brought Nix. I really wanted to hold his hand and maybe steal a few kisses to keep the panic down.
I smoothed down the suit when we finally reached the door. He knocked on the door and then when I heard Doctor Fuller’s voice calling, ‘Come in,” I pushed the door open.
Chapter 12
Nix Death-Hammer
I got a text while I was at work. I didn’t see it until I came down from the ropes and wiped off the sweat. I stood there, checking my messages while Holly treated the cuts and bruises that Kitten never questioned.
Can I take a raincheck for dinner tonight?
I stared at that text and started aching for her. Being married to the sweetest little thing I’d ever met made my life make sense for the first time in as long as I could remember. If she wanted to stay in, I wouldn’t say no. I waited impatiently for Holly to finish up before I left the studio and ducked into the van where Tom was waiting.
“She’s not at the hotel,” he said.
I grabbed his shoulder too hard. “What do you mean?”
“She took a drive earlier dressed real nice.”
I slowly released him. Doctor Fuller was probably the reason for Kitten’s drive. Either she’d gone to see her, or she’d gone to think about things. I could have been more supportive the night before, declaring that I’d personally clean every oozing pustule and made love to her exquisitely emaciated form as long as she’d let me, but she didn’t want that kind of devotion. Pity because I had so much devotion to give her.
I sat back and closed my eyes. “When did she leave?”
“Ten.”
“She’s been gone for eight hours?” I checked the time of the text. Two. I waited in the garage for an hour and a half, pacing until she pulled in, tires squealing on the asphalt. When she got out, she had a lot of energy, most of it anger.
“Kitten?”
“Oh! I didn’t see you.”
Clearly, because she’d almost run me over with the car. “Honey, what did I tell you about texting me where you were going? I was imagining all sorts of scenarios involving senior citizens gone bad.”
She laughed and gave me a quick hug, but her body was tense and her eyes were bright. “Do you still want to go out?”
I shrugged. “Whatever you want, Kitten. I kind of want to snuggle with you on the couch. Maybe watch some WWF and eat buffalo wings dipped in ranch.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have a heart attack at forty if you keep that up.” She shook her head and leaned against me, finally relaxing in my arms. I held her for a long time next to the Camaro.
“Brute, I went to the clinic to see Doctor Fuller.”
I stroked her hair. “I figured it was something like that. Or the senior citizens.”
She laughed against my chest. “I’m so confused. Can I talk it over with you?”
“Instead of WWF? I guess, but only if I still get buffalo wings.”
She lifted her face to stare at me. “I think you’re the only person in the world with correct priorities. Carry me.”
I scooped her up and with that we were taking the elevator all the way up to the suite. We settled down on the couch, ordered our unhealthy dinner plus a few shots of very healthy vegetable juice to make up for it, and cuddled.
“So, Kitten, I take it you’re feeling things you’ve never felt before. Go ahead and talk it out. I’ll say inappropriate things if you get too emotional.”
She sighed, but gave me a little smile. It wasn’t her usual sunshine smile, but I’d take it. “There are two obstacles to going through with the treatment. The first is quality of life, of course, the risk of throwing away the good years you might have. The second is the cost. Apparently, someone was so
impressed with my dad’s work that he left a grant for me to pay for my treatment.” She ran a hand through her hair, agitated.
“That’s not a good thing?”
She frowned. “It makes everything feel like an excuse. Is my life so meaningful that I can’t take a risk, or am I just a coward? This is my life, Nix. Some years hurt so much, doing treatments that are why I’m not dead right now, but I traded those years for these ones. She’s really optimistic about a cure, and the idea that I can actually have a normal life, kids, love, travel and do my art, go to the Louvre and the Met, not think about how I’m going to smile through the pain for another day, I just…” She burrowed her face into my chest.
I held her close and made comforting sounds. “Honey, I don’t know much, but I’ve seen people afraid to face death. You face it without flinching. You’re definitely not a coward. Maybe you’re a bit foolhardy, agreeing to marry some bad boy you don’t know.”
She pulled away far enough to kiss me. Her lips were hungry, frantic to feel love instead of confusion. Hope. It was a lure that could trap any man or woman. I was not immune as I ran my hands over the sweet skin I would do anything to save. Whatever it took.
The next morning, I got up early for work, but I sat on the bed watching her sleep for a little while. She was so beautiful, curled up and relaxed like an angel.
She stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw me, such a smile, it filled my heart to bursting. “You heading out?”
“That’s right. It’ll be a long day. Are you going to go play with the puppies again?”
She shook her head. “Yesterday took it out of me. If I’m really ambitious, I’ll go lay by the pool.”
I brushed her cheek. “Don’t forget sunscreen for that soft skin.” I didn’t want to leave her. I bent over the bed to kiss her. Her arms came around me, pulling me down to her. I could not resist her sweetness. I ended up late for work from swimming in my wife’s charms.
“Dirk is looking for you,” Jezabel said, leaning towards me so her bosom threatened to spill out of her top.
“I imagine he is. Straighten up. That can’t be good for your back.” I gave her a hard smile as I walked past her into the dim lights of the warehouse.
I hit it hard that day, pushing myself and my team until everyone probably hated me, but they loved it. Trix shot me a glare at the end of the day. She sported a nice colorful eye and a swollen jaw.
“Best get some ice on that,” I said.
She looked ready to kill me. “Sure. Is there a reason you’re trying to get us killed?”
“Winning, honey. That’s the game. We kill ourselves because we’re the best.”
“Watch out for Horse. He’s not the most up and up opponent you’ve ever had.”
“I’ll deal with him.” I could beat him in private as well as in the scheduled matches.
“But he won’t go after you, will he? How’s your Kitten’s security?”
I gave her a tight smile. “Better than mine.”
She laughed then winced and rubbed her jaw. “You putting me on the line like that, cold, Nix. Cold.”
“That’s why you love me.”
She shrugged and put her cold beer against her face. “It’s why I’m glad you’re back. I’ll leave the loving to your Kitten.”
“Kitten?” Jezabel was back, looking between us with her dark eyes. I usually liked brunettes, the darker the better and she fit the bill, but there hadn’t ever been anything like that between Jezabel and I.
“My wife,” I said, putting my ring on and ducking out of the warehouse, sunnies on, cap low.
“Wait, Nix, what do you mean, ‘your wife’?” Jezabel was hot on my heels. I climbed in the van, but she kept following me.
“Get out. I’m not in the mood for extra baggage.”
Her eyes went wide and hurt, but I didn’t pay attention to that. She had a vulnerable streak that I’d tried to protect over our years working together. Her eyes were none of my concern. I stood, blocking her way into the van until she slowly backed out. As soon as she was clear, I slammed the door in her face.
“Drive.” I threw myself in my chair and closed my eyes. We were burning up the circuit, but there was a reason most people didn’t do that, because it would burn us out. Professional fighting was one of the oldest careers, but that didn’t make it respectable. A lot like Jezabel’s career, racing horses in sequins. My work was part fighting, part Internet marketing, and part technology. Going to college like a nice, normal southern boy had always floated around in my head when I was facing someone I really didn’t want to beat my face in. What we were doing right now, my team of fighters and racers, was winning the circuit. Those who placed would take position in the Three Hundred, the final road war in the desert, a not entirely legal entertainment venture worth millions. Billions if you had an inside with the media. Which I did.
I shook my head. This was not a respectable career for a nice southern gentleman. Sunshine Ray Wilson would not appreciate her husband being a common fighter, even if he was very good at what he did and made a lot of money doing it. Money wasn’t the same as respect where she was from. Tonight after she fell asleep, I’d go to a public cage fight, good for media presence and to boost views on the ones we filmed in the warehouse without an audience.
Jezabel would be there making eyes at me. In the hotel lobby, I walked through a crowd of tourists only to stop as my mother walked in front of me in her pale pink suit and pearls.
I swore a few choice words before I tried to walk around her. She just started walking beside me.
“I hope you don’t use that kind of language in front of your wife.”
I curled my hands into fists. “How did you find out about that?”
“You think we don’t watch your money? What kind of parent would I be?”
“A normal one. Did you talk to her?”
She smiled. Oh, yes, she had. I swore some more. Her eyes grew harder, but she didn’t say anything.
“What?” I tried to keep my voice level. She could seriously mess things up with Kitten if she wanted.
“She’s lovely, not your usual trash. When does she start her treatment?”
I closed my eyes and wanted to scream and hurt the woman who had raised me so unkindly. “This isn’t a good time.”
She made a sound. “You’re still so delicate. I’m not here to intrude. I know you think I’m the devil, but I have no intention of getting in the way of the only quality female you’ve looked at in years. Marriage though. I thought you had a phobia.”
Yes. I had a fear that I’d marry a Kitten and wake up to an alligator like my mother. “I’m taking her home for Thanksgiving, that is, if you stay out of it.”
She looked surprised. “I see. Well, that will be acceptable. As you say, I’ll stay out of it.” She raised her hands and took a step back, but her smile was smug. I hated that smile so much.
I headed for the elevator. My mother. What a woman. Terrifying. She’d tried to conceive, but only managed getting pregnant when my birth father raped her in a back alley. He had no idea what he was doing, because she’d tracked him down afterwards and made his life hell. She didn’t kill him. That would be too quick. As for my legal father, she’d slept with the most wealthy and appropriate old money she could find, conned him into thinking I was his, and then divorced him as soon as she’d gotten what she wanted, which was a respectable name for me. She already came from money and had a shine to making more. She particularly liked buying out businesses with heart and sucking the soul out of them. That was her legal, pleasant side.
In me, she’d seen how much she could make out of my birth father’s proclivities for violence, training me and disciplining me until I hated all women, well, feared would probably be more apt. She didn’t resent me as some mothers might, no, she used me like she would any other asset she had. The fact that I’d walked out the day I turned eighteen and hadn’t gone back since, it didn’t sit well with her, but I was my own fo
rce to be reckoned with. Kitten didn’t fit in with that world. She was everything my mother pretended to be, but real and sweeter.
This world I was in, my world, the one I’d helped create had become as destructive and wrong for me as my mother’s twisted world. I’d been starting to think I couldn’t have a life in the sun until I’d met Kitten and her couch, but she was dying.
In the room, Kitten was in bed, drawing a desertscape with her pastels. She’d smudged some red on the down duvet. I climbed onto the bed and pulled her against me, nuzzling the back of her neck while I tried to breathe.
“Hey, Brute. Hard day?” She abandoned her chalks and turned to kiss me.
I pulled her close and mumbled against her hair. “Thanksgiving is going to be here too soon.”
“Thanksgiving? Oh. We were going to see your mother. Did she call you?”
“She did. Why did I think you should meet her? It must have been temporary madness. Tell me that you’re too sick to go. Come on, Kitten. There has to be some angle we can use it for.”
She laughed and took my face in her hands. “That was part of the deal. I think you think your mother is going to think I’m good for you. That’s what my aunt said, that I was going to save you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did she? We should go to church then.”
“We already did.” She waved her ring in my face. “Are you going to get serious about kissing me, or is the thought of your mother completely distracting? It is.” She laughed at me.
“You don’t know what she’s like.”
“Tell me.” She propped her head on her hand and smiled at me, the sunshine smile that was her namesake.
“Well, she’s mean but pretends to be nice.”
“Ah. The Southern woman. I get it.” She nodded. “Is she well-off?”
“Very.”
“Oh, the wealthy southern woman. That can be difficult.”
I sighed and buried my face in her neck. She had no idea. She tasted so good. It only took a few minutes of nibbling on her silky skin for me to forget all about my mother. I hated that she approved of Sunny, that made me almost doubt her. No, not my sweet Kitten.