Stone (Knights Corruption MC Series Book 2) (27 page)

BOOK: Stone (Knights Corruption MC Series Book 2)
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She stepped closer, reaching out to try and touch me. But instead of accepting her gesture and being the one to comfort her, I backed away. Shaking my head, I spilled forth everything bubbling up inside me, powerless to stop the barrage of fear her words had created.

“No. That’s not true.”

“It is. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

Why the hell is she apologizing to me?

“You need to get another opinion. They gave you the wrong results. It’s not true,” I repeated, barely more than whispering. I retreated until my back hit the wall, pulling at my hair so tightly a twinge of pain shot through my head, the follicles on fire from the brutality of my grip.

“Stone, look at me,” she pleaded, the heat from her body enveloping me the closer she stepped. “Baby . . . please. Look at me.” Pure torment laced each word, and it took everything in me not to collapse to the floor. Slowly lifting my head, taking my precious time before looking into her eyes, I swallowed each breath and prayed I possessed the strength needed to finally offer her the solace she needed.

As soon as our gazes connected, I saw the tears well up behind her eyes, breaking free once she saw the panic written all over my face. “I’ll be okay,” she cried, her uncertainty a direct contradiction to the words she spoke.

More tears.

More lies.

“Don’t lie to me. I can’t take it if you lie to me.” My chest expanded as if I’d just run a mile, and before I could stop myself my arm shot out and connected with a tray of instruments. The loud clank of metal objects hitting the floor jolted her back, surprise and understanding in her nod.

She’d had time to digest the news. But not me. I’d only had minutes, so my reaction was warranted. In my head, at least. Needing to purge myself further, I reached for the stool Dr. Weber had sat on and flung it across the room, instantly putting a dent in the wall. Anguish tore from my throat, and all the while I kept thinking how unfair life was. I’d finally managed to convince Addy to be with me, to tell the world she was mine, only to have it cut short. I had no idea what our future held, or even how long it was for that matter, but it didn’t stop me from reacting the only way I knew how.

My temper controlled me, and since it was a familiar feeling I gave in, relinquishing all rationality and diving head first into the depths of rage.

I tore the doctor’s office apart, whipping whatever wasn’t nailed down against the walls and reveling in the noises they made, hoping to drown out my own disbelief.

After a few minutes of me losing myself, I finally calmed enough to lean against the wall, shoving my hands deep in my pockets for fear I would explode and start destroying the room again.

Addy had stood in the corner of the room watching me, tears coating her cheeks the entire time. Her body shook in sadness, but she allowed me the time I needed to succumb to my feelings. I loved her more than I had before she told me the news, and I knew right then I would stand beside her and fight for her life just as strongly as she would.

Without delay, I crushed the small distance between us and drew her into my embrace, promising her my strength while she continued to cry.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, but I had to do something. And since I can’t eradicate the sickness inside you, I had to, well . . . destroy something.”

“I know. That’s why I let you go. But now that it’s over, I need to know if you’re okay with what’s going to happen going forward.” Pulling back so she could look at me, she trailed her hand down the side of my cheek, looking at me as if it was the last time. “I completely understand if you can’t do this. It’s a lot to ask someone, and I don’t blame you if you walk away. If I’m able to carry our baby to full term and deliver, I would never cut you out of his life, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay with me. You can move on and find someone healthy.”

Her rant only served to infuriate me. She was willing to let me go, but what she didn’t realize was that I would die without her. No matter what, I was in this for the long haul, and nothing she could say would change my mind.

“Are you serious? Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because we’ve only been together for a short time, and it’s too heavy to put on you. So I’ll understand if you can’t deal with it. Really, I will.” She continued to cry as she gave me an out, her puffy eyes and trembling lips cutting through me like a knife.

Not another second ticked by before I demanded she stop spewing her garbage. “Addy, shut the hell up. Right now. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I love you and no matter what happens, I’m right here for you.
With
you. So if you say another word about me leaving, I’m gonna be really pissed off.” She remained silent. “Understand?” I couldn’t stifle the anger in my tone.

“Yes,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me and holding on for dear life. While she tried to portray strength by telling me she was releasing me, her hold told me she’d hoped I would stay.

“Now let’s get the hell out of here before they make me pay for the damage I’ve caused.” That prompted a soft chuckle from her. Kissing the top of her head, I led her toward the door, already wondering what our next move would be.

Yes . . .
our
next move.

Not just hers.

We were in this together from here on out.

Life or death.

Adelaide

“I can’t just up and quit my job!” I yelled, aggravated he chose to wage this battle with me over and over again. “I’ve worked too hard to get where I am. Do you have any idea how lucky I am to have a job at St. Joseph’s? No, I’m not giving that up.” I stood strong, bracing myself for yet another argument about me continuing to work.

My hands rested firmly on my waist, prepared to defend my stance all night long. The fact we both stood naked in the middle of our bedroom was hardly distracting. To him or to me. My sixth-month-swollen belly protruded more with each passing day, one of the reasons he consistently brought up the subject of me quitting.

“Yes, you can!” he shouted right back, his muscles rigid in anger. “You can barely get through the day now, how the hell are you gonna be in another month? In another week?” Stone paced in front of me, his frustration intensifying the longer I remained stubborn. “I have more than enough money, so you don’t
need
to work.”

He’d mentioned his financial status on more than a few occasions. Not bragging, simply informing me he was more than capable. Thing was, I didn’t need or want him to take care of me. I was fully able to do that for myself.

“But I
want
to work,” I protested. While I fought against his pigheadedness, secretly I wanted to take a break from my job. The long hours on top of the pregnancy and chemotherapy were killing me. More figuratively than literally, thank God.

At thirteen weeks, I’d begun my first round of treatment, Stone accompanying me each and every time. The regiment Dr. Altosh, the oncologist Dr. Weber had recommended, suggested included six cycles of therapy, each one given every three weeks. My condition was closely monitored, simply because it wasn’t only my life at stake, but that of my unborn child as well.

The side effects I experienced were mild compared to some I’d heard about. Fortunately, I didn’t lose my hair, but I experienced extreme nausea, although I wasn’t sure if it was because of the baby or the chemo. Maybe it was both. Either way, it was difficult to keep any food in my system for a full week after the treatment. Then the feeling would lessen, while still being present, until the next round of dosage.

“Well, I’m only givin’ you another week and then you’re givin’ your notice. I’m not having you run yourself ragged, battling cancer and going through this pregnancy
and
working crazy-ass hours. Just because you
want
to. No, you need to slow down and take care of yourself . . . and our son.” Stone had been right all along—we’d found out we were having a baby boy soon after the appointment where I revealed what I’d been hiding from him. Stepping closer, he imprisoned me with his angry glare. “Don’t test me, woman, because you know what I’ll do if you don’t follow orders.”

Choosing to ignore his thinly veiled threat, which I was sure had everything to do with confronting anyone he could at the hospital, I focused on the one word which threw me into a world of surprise. Although it shouldn’t have; I should learn to expect these types of things to come flying out of his mouth.

Baffled at his audacity, I balked. “Orders? Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.” A cocky smirk found its way onto his infuriatingly handsome face. No matter how upset I was with him, I couldn’t help but admire his looks. Maybe it was the constant surge of hormones, or the fact the man standing before me was the most gorgeous specimen I’d ever seen. Either way, I berated myself for the way my body reacted to him.

Even in anger.

His and mine.

“Well,” I huffed, “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I’m not gonna stand by and let you dictate the way my life is gonna go. So you can forget—”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Addy,” he grated, his eyes flicking over my body with heated appreciation. It was so easy for him to switch from arguing to fucking. And although I hated to admit it, he made it easy for me as well. Striding toward me, he reached for my waist and pulled me close, his arousal thick as it pressed against my belly. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.” He pressed his lips to mine quickly before breaking away. “All I want is for you to ride my face until you drip in cum, then I want to bury myself inside you until the sun comes up.”

While my anger toward him, and the whole working situation, remained on a low simmer, my need for him was greater than I cared to admit.

And just like that, I’d gone from angry and stubborn to horny and willing.

Stone

The day Addy would give her notice to the hospital had quickly approached, and even though she fought me tooth and nail, she’d finally agreed to quit. I knew how much her job meant to her, and if it wasn’t for her being pregnant and having cancer, I wouldn’t have said anything. One of those things alone was cause enough to take a break, but both together and she was lucky I’d held out as long as I did.

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