The Love Series Complete Box Set (44 page)

“I . . . Mom, I really don’t know what to say. I mean . . .” Our attention is pulled from the conversation as we hear Joe and Katie stumble through the door with a huge pine tree wedged between them. Mom looks at me with kindness in her eyes and says, “It’s okay, Reid. You don’t have to say anything right now, or ever for that matter. Thank you for letting me say all of this to you. Come on. Let’s go help them and enjoy the rest of the night.”

We get up from the couch and share a brief hug and I’m relieved that I don’t have to keep talking. I want to forgive her, I really do. But there is a part of me that’s unwilling to let go of my anger. Five years of baggage is a lot and I can’t just let it go in an instant.

Decorating a Christmas tree and eating Chinese take-out is the perfect distraction and I’m surprised that the rest of the evening is actually fun. It’s easy to be here with Joe and Katie and Mom—there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say. The conversation flows easily and for the first time in the last five years, I feel more like myself than I ever have.

Somewhere around ten at night, Katie helps me set up the small guest room and everyone else retires to their rooms. It’s been a long and extremely exhausting day. Just as my eyelids start to feel heavy and I start to drift off to sleep, I hear a commotion down the hallway. Katie comes barging in the room and she looks frantic and panicked.

“Reid! Get up, now! It’s your Mom. She’s having really bad chest pains. Dad just called the ambulance.” She sprints out of the room before I even have a chance to respond.

I quickly pull on my jeans and a T-shirt. Hopping into my sneakers, I stumble out into the hall and see Katie slumped against the door frame of Mom and Joe’s room. I walk past her and stand next to Joe. He’s trying to remain calm, but I can see the fear in his eyes.

“What’s going on Joe? What the hell’s happening?” I didn’t realize it until just now, but the thought of actually losing my mom scares the shit out of me. I make my decision, right then and there, that, whether I forgive her or not, I want more time with her. I need more time to give us both the chance to heal.

“It’s the chemo and the meds and I’m sure the stress of today. The doctor’s said her heart was getting weaker. She was having trouble breathing and then she started having chest pains.” He’s trying to remain in control, but he’s failing miserably.

We hear the loud, metallic shriek of the sirens from the ambulance call out from the driveway and suddenly, there’s a swarm of paramedics and EMTs stabilizing Mom and putting her on a stretcher. Joe follows them out and goes in the ambulance with them.

Katie and I follow behind them in the truck in complete and utterly uncomfortable silence. Neither one of us want to admit our biggest fear. But whether we admit it or not, we both know that Mom is dying.

Sitting in the waiting room reminds me of just a few short weeks ago when I was waiting to hear whether or not Maddy would survive. Images of her lying in bed, weak and broken, bruised and bloodied, make my head spin. I’m overwhelmed by the need to talk to Maddy, to hear her soft, sweet voice. Fucking God, I miss her so much. I need to get to her. I need to tell her that she’s mine. We both need to put all of this shit behind us and just be together. I’m better when I’m with her.

I pull my phone out to call her and the nurse who walks past me admonishes me, saying, “Excuse me, young man. But you can’t have that in here. You’re going to need to turn it off.” She stalks away and I power down my phone. Then I remember that she changed her number on me anyway. I’m completely disconnected from her. I’ll just have to figure all of that out later. Right now, I’ll just have to focus on Mom and how she’s doing. I need to be able to tell her that even though I might not ever be able to forgive her, I want to work on moving forward. I need to tell her all of this before that chance is taken away from me forever.

Lost in my own dark thoughts, head hanging down in my hands, I don’t even notice that someone sits down next to me. I assume that it’s Katie, but when I notice the scrubs covering her legs, I know it can’t be her.

“Reid? I thought that was you. I saw you from the nurses’ station over there?” The atmosphere of the room shifts and I clench my fists involuntarily. The sound of Alex’s voice sends chills up my spine. My body tightens and I have to work hard to stifle the rage that is threatening to boil over.

No. You know what? Fuck. This. Shit.

I stand over her. My large frame overpowering her, I step into her space. She stands before me and eyes me like she’s the predator and I’m the prey. Not this time, Alex.

She moves to reach her hand out to me like we’re long lost friends or something like that. Before she can even think about touching me, I grab her wrist—hard. Not so hard that I’ll hurt her—badly anyway. I could strangle her, actually and even though I know I have the potential to be a real asshole sometimes, I know I’ll never hit a woman. It’s just not part of who I am. But I’ll definitely scare the shit out of her.

“Don’t you even think about touching me.” My words are daggers.

She looks down at my large hand clamped around her skinny wrist. She tries to pry my hand away, but I’m not going to give her the satisfaction of winning. “You’re hurting me, Reid. Let go.”

The maniacal chuckle that comes from my lips widens her eyes. “No fucking way, Alex. I don’t care one fucking bit what you have to say to me. I don’t care why you’re here at all or what you want to say to me. I am going to say one thing to you and then you are going to leave me the fuck alone. Got it?” I squeeze her wrist once more for emphasis. She doesn’t say anything and I don’t really care. I don’t need her permission to continue.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit. If I was less of a man, I’d beat the crap out of you right here and now for what you did.” I move back marginally and eye her up and down. She’s obviously a nurse—the outfit and the badge tell me that much. I vaguely recall that’s what she said she was going to school for all those years ago.

She’s too scared to say anything and I can feel her hands shaking in mine. Her eyes lock with mine and I can see the fear there. I feel triumphant, so I spit my last words at her. “Get the fuck away from me. If you ever see me again, just walk the other fucking way. Because next time . . .” I release her wrist and lean into her face. The hatred etched in mine helps to convey the seriousness of my threat. “Next time, I won’t be so kind.”

I stalk away from her and don’t even waste my energy on a backwards glance.

With everything that I’ve learned today, one thing is certain—I need to get out of this fucking place. Whatever the future holds for me and Mom, there’s no way in hell I’ll stay in this town.

I can certainly make peace with my past, but here will never be my future. Now, more than ever, I’m ready to go back to Maddy and fight for our future. She’s just going to have to learn to deal with my past, just like I have.

Chapter 9

Thursday, December 13, 2012

When I get back from lunch, whatever drama was going on before I left has caused utter chaos in the office. Kathy pulls me from filing and has me answering phones and making appointments for the rest of the day. After seeing Jay, it’s a welcome distraction. If I continue to sit there filing charts my mind will inevitably drift back over our relationship and that’s just not something I want to do right now.

Melanie picks me up promptly at six and we make our way over to the Verizon store for a new cell phone before heading home. After dinner, I sit in bed and contemplate calling Reid.

I don’t know why the thought of calling him makes me nervous. Well, yeah, I actually do. I don’t know where he is or who he’s with. Visions of him with all of the girls who came before me haunt my brain and hurt my heart. Could he have turned to them so quickly? I have to hold on to the idea that he loves me—or that he at least used to love me. It was in his eyes every time he looked at me, in his touch every time his fingers caressed my body, in his heated words that were filled with passion when we were making love. Just thinking about him causes my blood to heat and my insides to clench.

With trembling fingers, both from nervousness and desire, I dial Reid’s number. My heart flutters wildly against my ribs in anticipation of hearing his deep, rich voice. Just the thought of hearing his words whispered in my ear, of his breath hot and sensual on my neck, prickles my skin and makes my nipples harden instantly, almost painfully.

My gut twists when the line doesn’t even ring. It just goes straight to voicemail. The clipped greeting, “It’s Reid. Leave a message,” does funny things to my insides. I stutter over my words. “Hey, Reid. It’s me, Maddy. I . . . well . . . I-I don’t know. I just needed to talk to you. If you want to talk to me, call me. I-I miss you.” The last words are barely a whisper as if I don’t want to admit them to anyone aloud.

When I hit the button to end the call, I realize that he might not recognize the number. Nervous that with everything that is going on with Katelyn calling him non-stop, he might delete the voicemail without even listening to it, I decide to text him as well. I send him the same message that I spoke into his voicemail, except for the stuttering of course.

I stare at my phone and will him to text me back. I want him to respond immediately. He always does. Well, he always used to. I wait for what feels like forever, but in reality it’s no more than five minutes. When it’s clear that he’s not going to respond, I start to worry that maybe he is with someone else. I can only assume that his phone is turned off. He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered.

Feeling completely dejected and alone, I decide to take a shower and wash away the grime of the day. I turn the water on, and while it heats up, I pull my hair into a messy bun. I wrap my cast in a plastic supermarket bag and test the water with my other hand.

Stepping under the steaming spray, my mind drifts to thoughts of Reid. As the water glides over my body, it leaves a hot path in its wake. I lather up the bar of soap as much as I can and smooth the bubbles across my still flat belly. I can’t help but wonder how long before it will become a cute, little, round baby-bump. I wrap my arm around my waist, but I fantasize that it’s Reid’s strong arm ensnaring me in its grasp. The steam cascades all around me, but what I feel is Reid’s warm breath reducing me to a boneless puddle of desire. Thinking of his talented fingers, I run my hands up from my belly towards my breasts. The pregnancy has made my nipples sensitive and tender to the touch. Sore though they may be, they ache to be touched, rolled and twisted.

I arch my back and press my breast into my tiny hand. It doesn’t have the same effect as Reid’s large palm cupping and grasping at my flesh, but thinking about him while I touch myself arouses me more than I thought possible.

Massaging my full, heavy breasts ignites sparks low in my belly. I pinch my nipple and feel my clit pulse and throb. My legs quake and my knees buckle. I wish I had the use of both hands. Hell, if I’m wishing for things, I wish Reid was in here with me—kissing me, touching me, making me come.

The thought of his hands on me, of his fingers in me, forces my hand away from my breast moving lower. Following the path back down towards my belly, shamefully, I almost pull away. Before I met Reid, sex was never of much importance to me. I never considered myself sexual at all, actually. But being with Reid has turned me into a lust filled, wanton creature. Spurred on by my inner sex goddess, I let my hand travel lower still, until it rests on the neatly trimmed hair of my mound.

Envisioning Reid’s hand wrapped around mine, I dip my fingers lower and brush them gently over my hot, wet lower lips. My legs shake again and my insides clench deliciously. I spread my lips apart and let my fingers graze repeatedly over my heated core. Wet heat floods my sex and my hardened clit begs for attention.

When my fingertip passes over the turgid nub of my arousal, a breathy moan escapes my lips. Somehow I manage to hold back the flesh surrounding my clit so that I can expose more of it to my inexperienced fingers. I know that I am touching myself, but in my head Reid is doing this to me. His large calloused fingers rub furious circles over my trembling, molten core until I’m right on the edge of losing control.