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Twisted Love (Blinded Love Series Book 3) Page 16


  “It’s not.” I held his face, feeling my own tears wet my cheeks.

  “I fucking hate him more because he’s alive and she’s not. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong. I can’t help blaming him. Like it’s his fault.” Chris spat, curving into me, grief striking each word. He was trying so hard to fight back the sobs piling up in his chest.

  “I know.” I tipped my forehead against his. I carried a lot of anger and hate from my father’s death, too. It’s hard to be rational when a person you love is ripped away from you so cruelly and horrid people continue on with their lives, having no consequence for their evil deeds. I no longer believed in karma. It was just something people liked to believe to give them hope life was fair. It wasn’t. Bad people excelled in life all the time, never getting their punishment.

  “I hate him so much.” Strain strangled his statement, his hands gripping my arms like he was either going to pull me in or push me away. “Why couldn’t it have been him?”

  I only held him tighter, feeling him press into me, his nose burying into my neck, his arms wrapping around me. He held me as if I were his lifeline, but the tension never left his body. We stood like that for a long time before he whispered into my neck.

  “I don’t want to die.”

  Fuck. No.

  He said it….

  As if a dam broke, sorrow gushed into my soul, wiping everything out with the force of the current, leaving me barren and gutted. My heart knew we had been headed here the whole time, but until he said it, I kept hoping it wasn’t true. But all the incidents I had ignored before, the complete change in his demeanor, the falling, the dizzy spells.

  Nononononono.

  A noise caught in my throat, and I pulled back, staring at him, his pained brown eyes telling me all I needed to know. And like the young Chris, I wanted to scream and tear the world apart. My heart sank back into hiding. The thought of losing him would destroy anything I still had left of it.

  “Chris…”

  “It’s exactly the same.” Anguish softened his timber. “It’s why I left supercross. I kept getting dizzy and a few times fell off my bike on the track. I was a danger to myself and other riders. Violent mood swings and I started forgetting shit…”

  “Have you been tested so you know this for sure?”

  “At first I didn’t go because I didn’t want to know…now I don’t need the test because I do know.”

  “Chris. You have to make sure. What if it’s something totally different?”

  He shook his head, cradling my face. “It’s not, Gyps.”

  No. No. This wasn’t real. I couldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t let life take something else from me. It already had taken so much.

  “I saw you at the hospital. I followed you…then I lost you. But you weren’t there for Krista.”

  “You followed me?”

  “Your ass put me in a trance.” I pointed at the culprit. “It wasn’t my fault. I have no power over that ass.”

  He chuckled under his breath.

  “Why were you there?”

  He sighed, looking at a neighbor’s yard. “I had tests scheduled…but I didn’t get them done.” He shrugged. “They rescheduled them for tomorrow, but what’s the point. I already know.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “What?” He jerked back.

  “I think you told me because you want me to go with you.”

  “I don’t need you to go with me.” His shoulders rolled back, going defensive.

  “Too bad.”

  “I don’t need anyone.” He lashed out, anger brightening his eyes. “Especially you. I don’t want your fucking pity.”

  “It’s not pity.” I shook my head. “And this isn’t for you. This is about me…and I need to go with you.”

  He stood for a moment blinking at me, his expression softening.

  “Remember it’s always about me, Tarzan. And like it or not, I’m going with you. Tomorrow.” I stomped my foot. There was still hope. A chance this was not a tumor. That he was fine. And I knew deep down he needed me but would never ask.

  His mouth curled up with humor at my outburst, his eyebrow cocking up. “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” I folded my arms. “Don’t even bother fighting me; you know how stubborn I am. I will be a shadow on your ass tomorrow. I mean who wouldn’t want to shadow that ass? Who knows, I might just stay there forever.”

  “And this is me doing you a favor?” He smirked, understanding our game.

  “I also demand pizza.”

  “Of course.” He nodded with a slight smile. The humor dropped from his face quickly, and he stepped up to me, his body against mine. He swallowed, his lids blinking back emotion.

  “Thank you, Stevie,” he breathed.

  I swallowed, nodding, trying to push back the grief clamoring in my throat. I understood for the moment I was still living in a fragile bubble of hope.

  Tomorrow everything could change. And once again I would either fly or I would plummet into oblivion.

  “And even though we don’t….” Mom belted out Anne Murray’s “Danny’s Song,” dancing around the kitchen. Hendrix sat on the counter watching her, probably wishing she shut up and feed him.

  “Moooommm.” I groaned and dropped my head on the table, my eyes burning from lack of sleep. “Please.”

  “Everything will bring a…” Mom continued singing.

  “Mom.” My head ached like I had a hangover, and my chest felt as though someone stomped all over it. “Coffee before singing, please.”

  “Someone’s a grouch. I’m surprised.” She set down a cup of coffee next to me on the table, and kissed my head before returning to the kitchen.

  The desire for coffee overrode the need to take a quick nap on the table. I lifted my head, pouring the black liquid straight down my gullet, not caring if it scorched my tongue off.

  “Thought you’d be somewhat cheerful today.”

  “Why? It’s morning. When am I ever cheerful?” Plus, I only got about three very restless hours of sleep before I gave up.

  “So?” She sauntered back, setting some toast on the table, before taking a seat across from me. “When did you sneak Christopher out?”

  My entire body lurched up, my mouth dropping open.

  “Please, Stevie.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I’m a heavy sleeper, but not that deep. You two could have awakened the dead.”

  “Oh. God. Awkward.” I shut my eyes, burying my face in my hands.

  “It’s not like I don’t know you are sexually active.”

  “Not here. I never bring it here.”

  “Except him.”

  “One time.”

  “I might have shut down, but I was never naïve, blind…or deaf. I knew about Chris sneaking into your window two years ago.”

  “But…” My mouth gaped open. “You never said anything. You always had a fit when I brought anyone over just to watch a movie. Boy or girl.”

  “That’s because it was him.”

  “What do you mean by that?” My lids narrowed.

  “Oh, Stevie. You are my daughter. We may have never been as close as you and your father, but there are things mothers instinctively sense. Especially when it has to do with their only child.” She took a sip of coffee. “Christopher has been different from the start. The moment I saw you two together, I knew…”

  “Knew what?” I felt my heart accelerate, icy heat spilling down my back.

  “That not only did you find your equal…” She sat forward, folding her hands. “But he found his.”

  I sat immobile, not able to respond.

  “We both shut down when your father died, and it’s probably my fault for pushing you away, being so strict, but I felt as if I lost you overnight. The happy, huge hearted girl I knew had changed suddenly. Your dad’s death and then the accident. You closed off, became flippant about life and sex, and you buried that heart of yours more every day. I didn’t know how to deal with it and did everything wron
g.” She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with her declaration. “But he came into your life…and I saw you again. You came alive with him.”

  I had shifted overnight, but it wasn’t completely for reason she thought. A girl with a heart died that night, and another one had learned to survive and rise again.

  “Chris…it isn’t like th—”

  “Stevie.” She cut me off. “You may not want to see it, but it obvious to anyone who sees you two together.”

  “What is?” I whispered, dreading what she’d say.

  “Not only is he in love with you…” She stood, walking over to me. Her hand touched my arm, her words sinking dread into my gut. “But you are completely in love with him. You have been since the day you met him. You’ve just been trying so hard to fight it.”

  My jaw tried to unhinge to protest her claims, but nothing came out of my mouth. Her declaration cut me open.

  “I know you know it too. It’s okay to let him in. To love. You’ve spent so much energy and time fighting it. Your father would want you to be happy. Both of us need to love and live again.” She kissed my temple and walked into the kitchen, leaving me to stew in her words.

  No. I could not love him. Would not. Selfish or not, I could not handle loving someone only to lose them.

  Fear crawled up my throat as I stood from the table, walking back to my room like a zombie. I would be there for him today, but love was not an option.

  I liked believing myself strong, but when it came to love, to him, I gave my whole heart. I would not be strong enough to lose Chris. I didn’t have anything to give anyway. I was no longer capable of it.

  That had been taken from me.

  The car was supposed to take the rest.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I never even thought about becoming an actress for a good reason. Faking shit was not a talent of mine. Neither was useless small talk, which left the car silent and weighty. It seemed like an elephant wasn’t just riding in the car with us, but had decided to sit on the top of my car, caving in the roof.

  Chris sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, his knee bopping up and down. Every mile closer to the hospital we got, he shifted more in his seat. I kept the doors locked, afraid he’d leap out at one of the stops. Not that I didn’t have the same desire. This had bypassed my comfort level the moment I followed him out my bedroom window. Actually, it started the moment he crawled into it.

  The whole night felt like a strange dream I wanted to wake from. Well, not the sex, that was incredible, but fear now overshadowed everything so much I couldn’t even see straight.

  I pulled into the parking lot where the afternoon heat wavered off the cars. I spotted a familiar jeep parked only three down from where I parked.

  “You didn’t tell them, did you?” Chris’s head swung to mine, his lids narrowed.

  “No.” I eyed him back. “All about you, huh?” I tried to tease. It was my default in any tension filled situations. “They’re probably here visiting the baby and Krista.”

  The last I heard the baby was doing better but still too weak to leave the hospital. Jayme and Hunter had cancelled their vacation in the mountains and were staying here until things were stable.

  “Right.” Chris’s lids crunched together, a pained expression crinkling his face. He rubbed his head. “Jesus, I’ve been an asshole.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “But don’t worry, that’s just your personality. Has nothing to do with anything else.”

  He peered at me through his lashes.

  “They’ll forgive you,” I said softly, touching his bouncing knee. “They love you, Chris.”

  “I knew I was being a dick, but I couldn’t stop it. I have no control over it. Even right now I feel so angry… I’m like the Hulk. It controls me, not the other way around.”

  “Well,” I bobbed my head, taking back my hand. “Now you know what it feels like to be a woman with PMS. Welcome to my world.”

  He chuckled, wagging his head, before he lifted it to face me, staring.

  “What?” I looked away from the intensity of his gaze.

  “You.” His eyes moved over me as though he was seeing me for the first time. “You seem to know exactly what to do and say to get me open up. How do you do it?” He asked the question rhetorically, so I stayed silent, watching him back.

  This force that lay between us had been there for a long time, but it was the first time I allowed myself to acknowledge it.

  And it terrified me.

  “We better go.” I jerked away, grabbing for the door handle, practically falling out of the car. Locking the door, I matched his steps as we walked toward the doors. His shoulders were back, his head up, but nervous energy radiated off him, almost as palpable as my own.

  Stepping up to the entrance, he inhaled, his hand reaching for mine. We laced our fingers together. My throat constricted, and he gripped my hand tightly as we moved forward to the radiology department. We walked the same halls I had followed him down before. He didn’t get any fewer stares from nurses and patients, but this time I stood with him, as his support and rock.

  The severe emotions swarming through me bashed together, twisting the slice of toast I ate for breakfast in my gut. I wanted so many things:

  To protect him.

  To run from him.

  I wanted to nestle against his large warm build, feeling honored he wanted me by his side for this. At the same time the gaping breath in my lungs twisted my heart, telling me to get the hell out. Now. This was far too deep and serious for me. There had to be someone better than me to help him deal with this. Anyone. Hendrix the cat would probably be better.

  We came off the elevator, but he hesitated, so I stepped up to the counter. “Checking in for Christopher Singer,” I said, handing her his insurance card.

  “Thank you. Have a seat. Someone will be with you soon.” The nurse motioned to the seating on the side.

  We both moved over and sat. I felt like a robot, shutting down all the emotions going on inside. This was hospital where my dad died. Where both Hunter, Whiskey, Hunter’s mother, and Emlyn almost died.

  This place was clouded with negativity and grief.

  What if it took Chris too?

  “You’re shaking.” Chris’s hand cupped my one hand in both his.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know this is the last place you want to be.” His thumb rubbed my wrist. “Your dad…”

  “We all seem to be here a little too much.” I looked up at the clock. Only two minutes had passed so why did it feel like an hour?

  “You never told me really what happened.”

  “You really want to talk about this now?” A strangled laugh sputtered from me.

  “Why not?” Chris shrugged. “Distract me from leaping out the window.”

  “Two stories up.” I laughed nervously. “You’d only break your leg and end up right back here.”

  He tilted his head with a stop avoiding the topic squint of the eyes.

  Air rushed out between my lips. “He was diagnosed with lung cancer when I was sixteen. For three years he fought it. Chemo, surgery, radiation… The chemo broke his body down to nothing. I watched him suffer. Helped clean up his vomit, his sheets when he was too weak to get out of bed.” Chris’s hand squeezed mine in mutual understanding. Both of us had watched the horrendous disease shred a parent apart. Had taken care of them.

  “On my graduation…” Tears strangled my throat, recalling the day, his beaming smile as he walked up to me. “He hugged me so tight, saying how proud he was of me. Then he gave me the best gift I could ever receive.” I gulped. “His latest tests came up negative for cancer cells.” I cleared my throat, trying to shovel back the flood of emotion in my chest. “He and Mom had known for a few weeks, but he wanted to make sure. Get those second set of tests. My present for graduation.”

  Chris swallowed, his thumb still sliding over my skin in rhythmic motion.

  “Nothing can ever compare to t
hat moment. It made me believe in hope again. That life could give good people a break…” I stared down at my legs. “Not even two weeks later, he went to work and had a massive heart attack. By the time Mom and I got to the hospital, he was in a coma and the doctors told us he was brain dead.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered.

  “Remembering all the tubes, IVs, and machines hooked up to him…he no longer looked like my father. Just a shell.”

  “Did they ever find out why?”

  “Yeah. In the end the treatment killed him, not the cancer. The chemo and radiation put so much stress on his body…his heart couldn’t take it.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gyps.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged, tugging my hand free of his. “That’s life.”

  “Hey.” He leaned forward, closer to me. “You know I get it. More than anyone.”

  I nodded, my gaze meeting his. “I know.”

  He bent in kissing my head.

  “Mr. Singer?” A woman’s voice called from behind us. We both snapped to the nurse, my stomach dropping to my toes.

  Together we stood, following her back to a private room. It took everything I had not to turn right back around and run for the hills.

  Cancer had taken his mother and in a way my father. If it fucking took Tarzan from me…

  Not even the Hulk would be able to touch me.

  “Mr. Singer.” The doctor came into the room, his eyes still reading over the information on his clipboard. My guts twisted, wringing out an empty stomach. We had been here most of the day, but food didn’t even remotely sound good. The tech doing the test had let me stay in the room with Chris until it was time for the MRI. I tried my best to keep him calm, with funny stories I had of us.