dibs (22 page)

“I don’t know!” I sobbed back. “In those moments, I felt so vulnerable and scared.” I used my shirtsleeve to wipe snot from my upper lip. “In my head, I saw Jake seeing this picture of his mother naked and tied to a chair. Then…that fear turned to one of those men possibly touching me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to protect myself.”

“From the way you’ve described Mac, there is no way he would have let that happen.”

As my own arms snaked around my center to contain the pain, I knew she was right. Yet, as I lay in bed that last night on the ship trying to make sense of what happened, I knew the only thing left between us was a goodbye. He was a man with his entire life in front of him. After everything, I still didn’t know his age…but I guessed him to be thirty. Regardless of how much I wanted for there to be something more between us—I was the older adult and needed to remember that. There was no way we could work. So, this was the easiest way. Goodbyes were never easy, and in the end, me staying would have only prolonged the inevitable—an unavoidably awkward, stilted goodbye.

The second most awkward thing was going to be meeting with Becca’s oncologist… AKA Mr. Limp Dick in two weeks with her. That’s when she found out what the MRI said. I didn’t understand why so long.

Jake was still at his friend’s house when I got home, and honestly, coming home to an empty house was what I needed. Leaving my suitcases at the door, I crashed onto the sofa and grabbed my laptop. Immediately, I logged on to Facebook first and typed in his name, Mac McAllister, ignoring the forty-one notifications. Fourteen Macs. I clicked on each profile. Not one was his. I opened Google and entered his name.

Nothing that was about
my
Mac. I scrolled through page after page. I then entered Mac McAllister Nevada. Finally, his picture came up under images. Jesus…just his photo took my breath away. Still photography rarely captured someone’s beauty, yet…holy mother of God, he was as wickedly good looking in the pictures as I remembered. Instantly, regret consumed me for leaving. I was an idiot.

I clicked on the first image. He wore a gray suit and black tie. Gorgeous. It linked to a newspaper article. Oh. My. God. He worked at a ladies’ club outside of Carson City? He was a stripper? Quickly, I scrolled the article for a date…he did look younger in the picture. The date on the article was three years ago. As my heart pounded in my throat, I clicked on the back button scrolling through the rest of the articles.

I remembered back about asking him what he did. His only response was that he ran a business in the services industry. My nose scrunched up. A stripper, really? My stomach flip-flopped.

What the hell difference did it make? I shut my laptop harder than I intended. Bucket list: Sex with a stripper…CHECK!

“May I come in?” Blake asked, tapping on my office door.

“Shut up, Blake. What’a ya want?”

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he said, slamming the door. “I want you to snap the fuck out of it. You walk around here growling at everyone and biting off everyone’s heads. Get a fucking grip. It’s been two weeks.”

Glowering at him, I threw the contract I’d been reviewing across the desk. “Wait, I think I give a fuck what you think. Oh never mind. It’s gone, my bad,” I snarled.

He chuckled, which only pissed me off more.

“Buddy. If you think for a second…” he didn’t finish his statement. “Look, I gave you her number, her damn address and where she works. Stop dickin’ around. Either shit or get off the pot. But for the sake of fuck—do something.”

The door slammed after he walked out.

I pushed the intercom.

“Rene. Send Blake back in, please.”

My lips curled with satisfaction and my smile broadened when the door flew open. His shoulders nearly touched each side of the door.

“What do you want? A fucking tissue to keep crying in?” he asked.

“I’m selling.”

“Selling what?”

“My 51 percent. Do you want it?”

His hands shot up to his forehead as his head drooped forward.

“Mac.”

I shook off his unspoken plea. “I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.”

Over at the window, he slid his hands in his pockets, staring out at the desert. I’m sure this was hard for him. Just as it was for me. Our lives would change on many levels.

“Are you shitting me? Can we at least talk about it?”

“No. I’m pretty resolved.”

Blake punched the credenza. “Do you think selling now will buy you credibility? Take your tampon out and get back in the game.”

My neck popped as I twisted it back and forth, my agitation grew.

“Mac. She liked you. Don’t…”

“It has nothing to do with credibility. I just don’t want the lifestyle anymore,” I lied.

“Bullshit!”

My teeth gritted together when he shouted.

“We’ve been in this together from the start. Don’t do this…”

This time, I turned and walked away from my best friend…my business partner…my soul brother. I had a girl to find.

Dr. Limp Dick wasn’t nearly as good-looking as I recalled. And he seemed a little less than thrilled to see me. But then again, he seemed a little less than excited the time before. And of course, I stood before him in my scrubs.

“How are you, Samantha?” he asked, resting his hand on Becca’s shoulder.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Please, you two. Come on in.”

His office was warm with natural colors and a few landscape pictures decorating the wall. Comforting. Just in the two weeks since I’d been home, Becca had deteriorated. Her face was sunken in through her cheeks. The dark circles under her lifeless eyes resembled a raccoon.

“I’m not going to sugar coat it, Becca. The cancer has spread again.”

“What do you mean, it’s spread
again
?” I sat upright.

Confusion clouded his face. “Does she not know?”

“Know what?” I asked, my eyes shooting back and forth between them. Becca’s head barely shook, but it did shake.

“Before you left on your cruise, Becca had an MRI. The cancer had metastasized to her liver and lungs.”

My head snapped toward Bec so fast my neck popped.

“What?” I whispered, as a lone tear etched its way down her cheek. “Bec.” Her name came out in a rushed whisper. “Why?”

After she swiped a tear, her eyes met mine. “You wouldn’t have gone. You would have stayed here. You needed that trip. You’re more alive than I’ve ever seen you.”

Her words ripped through me. “That’s not fair. That was my choice to make,” I cried.

Becca rose to her feet and came to me, her arm outstretched, her hand reached for mine.
She
was comforting
me
. This was so wrong, but the abundance of emotion was like a wrecking ball in my head. My hands clutched her shirt as if this would be our final goodbye.

“How much time?”

It was a cruel question but one I needed answered. I needed to tell Kat and Juls. I needed to prepare. I wasn’t ready to let her go.

“Not much,” she whispered.

“Payton?” An uncontrollable sob tore up my throat as I said her daughter’s name. My hand clasped over my mouth. How unfair to lose both parents. Her father in Afghanistan. And now her mother to cancer… so fucking unjust.

“Samantha. I need you to be strong. Payton will need you…and Jake.”

Her raspy voice held little emotion. I seemed to carry enough for both of us. I couldn’t breathe…couldn’t even get a breath. A softball seemed wedged in my throat.

“We talked about this,” she said, swallowing hard. “You said you’d take care of her. You’d be like her mother.”

“Jesus, Bec. Of course I will. She’ll be my own. You know that. But I thought that was a what if…”

Becca nodded. “It was a what if. But what if is now.”

With her frail hand, she wiped the big tears that streaked my cheeks.

“Sam. She’s my daughter. My blood. I need you to raise her like your own. I need you to…”

“I will, Becca. You know that,” I raised my voice.

Then she warily lowered herself in the chair as if that’s all she needed to hear.

I glanced around the office. Jay was gone. He’d left us alone.

“I need to speak with Jay. I’ll meet you at the car, OK?” she asked.

“What was the purpose of me coming here today? To tell me?”

She nodded weakly. “Yes. I knew you’d have questions. I needed his support.”

Catching a breath was growing increasingly difficult. No matter how hard I tried, my chest felt tightened with each attempt. This was more than I could handle. I wanted to talk to Kat…to Juls…to Mac. Coming up behind Bec, I enveloped her in my arms. She laid back into me and we both silently wept. Friends since the beginning of our time. When I felt her stiffen, I too pulled away, brushed a kiss over the top of her hair and walked out.

It wasn’t until I hit the car…that I absolutely lost it.

There she came sprinting out the door straight to her car. Something was wrong. Her friend wasn’t with her. I glanced up at the name of the place again
. Oncology Center.
Fuck. Was she sick? The thought shook me to my core. I wanted to go to her. Could fate deal a more cruel hand by taking her away?

She sat sideways in her car with her feet out the door, still in her cute little purple scrubs. She buried her face in her hands. The pull in my chest was too much to bear. When she glanced in my direction, I flipped the visor down. Though it was doubtful she’d see me, I wondered if she’d recognize me. The sun caught her eye and she looked away.

Suddenly, she glanced up as if someone shouted at her. With a forced smile, she stood swiping her hands over her face, quickly walking to her friend. Her very fragile looking friend. Sam wasn’t the sick one, thank God, it was her friend.

Her friend swatted at her as she tried to assist her to the car. As the friend sat, Sam kissed her and then ran around to the other side. Sam looked thinner… I didn’t like that. Every part of me hoped that douche bag Bryan was still out of the picture. Maybe it was time to pay him a visit too.

I watched as Jake got out of his dad’s truck and darted up to the house. His mother’s house. Sam’s place. Beautiful. Perfect. Exactly what I thought her house would be. I smiled when Jake disappeared through the garage door. I waited for dickhead to pull away…he didn’t.

He sat in the driveway, and every part of me was mentally willing him to go. I wasn’t ready for her to see me—but if he forced my hand, I’d make my reappearance back into her life.

Shit. His brake lights shifted into park and then he got out of the truck, walking up toward the front door. My eyes measured his every cocky step. He tried pushing his way in, but the door was locked, so he knocked. I silently prayed that no one answered.

Sam did. As far away as I was, her expression was not a good one. Actually, it was blank. Whatever he said, she shook her head. Again. Again. His hands, palms up, were out to the side as he pled his case. My guess was asking for her back…again.

She started to head back into the house when he grabbed her arm. Instantly, my hand went to the door handle as rage seeped through me slowly. I was ok with it now…seeing her…her seeing me.

She jerked her arm away, jabbing her finger in his face. Then Jake came to the door. Immediately, his father-stepped down. Jake’s glare was serious and one I never wanted to have turned in my direction. I released the door handle the minute fuckhead backed down and returned to his truck.

For the first time, life had dealt me a hand that I didn’t know how to play. I still couldn’t pin point the moment it happened for me. Somewhere between the dolphin hauling her ass out to sea, witnessing our downfall when she was belted to the chair or the moment I realized she was gone. Regardless, somewhere along the line—the ante was upped. Living in Nevada…and I’ve never been a gambler. Everything inside of me told me she was worth the risk.

Four weeks had passed since Becca broke the news to me. Even today, as I walked down the corridor of the hospital, I staggered like a zombie to the elevator.

“Congrats, Doc,” Wendy said as I passed. “You always make that look so easy.”

“The mother did the hard work,” I chuckled, winking at her.

“True. But you are awesome in there.”

Wendy knew Becca was in a hospital bed in my living room with a full-time hospice nurse at her side. She knew that my son was equally attached to Bec and struggling too. She knew that I came back from the cruise with a broken heart but didn’t know the what’s, who’s or why’s. She knew that every day was a struggle and enjoying the birth of a baby was hard when every day I was experiencing the death of a soul sister…a sister by choice.

I yawned as the elevator door opened; it was full but people parted to let me on. My Fitbit buzzed, marking my thirty thousand steps for the day. I’d spent nearly twenty-four hours awake…working. At this point, I’d sleep against a wall. Without Wendy assisting with her team, the delivery an hour ago would not have gone off without a hitch.

I got my phone out to text Jake. To check on Becca. To see what he wanted to eat. It seemed like we lived a fast food life as of late.

“Dibs.”

The voice sent a chill up my spine. Without looking, I knew instantly who it was, but as if I moved in slow motion, first my head, then my body turned to scan the faces of the people in the elevator. When our eyes connected, I melted…all of me wanted to crumble under his scrutiny. The look in his eyes possessed me immediately. Within that silent moment, he claimed ownership of me again.

I glanced around the elevator, taking a head count.

“Since you are stealing my word, you may want to know how the game works. There are three woman and four men standing here. Whom are you calling dibs on?”

The other occupants looked at both of us hesitantly.

He inched my way, his towering presence overwhelming me.

“You know damn good and well
whom
I’m calling dibs on.”

The elevator opened, and it was like a sudden burst of oxygen to my lungs…I stepped off…he followed.