Authors: Stina Lindenblatt
Chapter Fifty-Four
Marcus
I open my eyes to the sun shining in my room. It takes a minute or two to remember where I am, and for the memories of last night to surface through the haze in my head. I vaguely recall waking up several times during the night, but this is the first time I’ve felt this coherent.
“Afternoon,” a short chubby woman says, smiling next to my bed. The top of her uniform is covered with cartoon cats that make me think of Smoky. “How’s the pain?”
“It’s good.” They must have me doped up on some pretty strong meds. I can’t feel too much right now, though I’m sure that won’t last forever. “What time is it?”
“One-thirty. Your girlfriend should be back in a minute. She went to get coffee.”
“Amber’s here?” Didn’t she have her math final this afternoon? I strain to remember what time it was scheduled for. Maybe it was for this morning. Or maybe I’ve been out of it for a few days and she’s already had it.
“She’s been here for a while. Poor girl looks exhausted. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” She laughs and checks my IV, then peels back the dressing from my wound.
She’s just finished redressing it when Amber enters, carrying a brown paper bag and wearing the sexy black dress she wore that first night at Nightshade. The night when first I realized, deep down, I never wanted to let this beautiful, damaged girl out of my life. Only, thanks to me screwing up several times, I almost did.
Unlike the nurse, she blushes at the sight of my half-naked body, even though she’s seen a lot more of it than the nurse. Or maybe that’s why she’s blushing. She’s remembering just how much of it she’s seen. That thought makes me grin.
After retying my sling, the nurse gathers her supplies and smiles at Amber. “All right, young lady, he’s all yours. Just remember to be careful with his wound. We don’t want it to start bleeding again.”
Amber blushes a deeper shade of red at the comment. My grin widens at where her thoughts might have gone.
The nurse adjusts the bed so that I’m sitting and leaves.
Amber places the paper bag on the moveable table near my bed and sits on the chair. “I bought you some chicken noodle soup.”
“Thanks.” Not that I’m hungry. There’s only one thing I’m interested in holding right now, and it’s not food.
I pat my bed. No way is she sitting on that damn plastic seat when there’s a comfy spot—well, as comfortable as a hospital bed can be—next to me.
She looks at it, uncertain, then smiles and moves out of the chair. Leaning over, she gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, setting off the heart rate monitor next to my bed. I laugh at her smug smile when she realizes why the monitor started beeping.
She pulls away and sits next to me. I crave more than a sweet kiss, but I don’t think the nurses will appreciate walking in and finding out exactly what I want to do to Kitten now that she’s finally back in my life.
“What time’s your math test?” I don’t want her to leave, but I know she’ll have to go. Too bad she doesn’t have her math books with her. I could help her study. Though I’m not sure how good a tutor I’ll be with these drugs in my system.
She bites her lip. “It was this morning.”
“How did it go?”
She looks over at the heart rate monitor, which started beeping again even though she didn’t kiss me this time.
She smiles and shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
I frown. “It doesn’t? Why not?”
“I’ve decided not to be a veterinarian.”
“I thought that’s what you’ve wanted to be since you were a little girl.”
“I did. But that was the old Amber. I’m not that girl anymore, and I never will be.” The corners of her lips slide down briefly before she smiles, again. “I want to help other victims of crime. I’ve been seeing a therapist.” Her smile widens at my surprise. “I want to help other victims realize that to win, you have to stop blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, that only then can you be a true survivor. Otherwise you let the criminal win.” She looks at me pointedly as she says it.
“You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Ryan,” she adds softly. When I don’t respond, she says, “How old were you when it happened?”
She doesn’t say the words but I know what she’s referring to. “Thirteen.”
“You were only a boy, Marcus. Frank was a full-grown man. You couldn’t have protected yourself and Ryan against that. You didn’t let your brother down. Frank did, and so did your mother. Don’t let them win by blaming yourself for their actions.”
I thread my fingers through her hair and bring her head close to mine. “Have I told you how much I love you?” I murmur. I vaguely remember telling her after I was shot, but I’m not sure if she heard me, or if I just imagined saying the words.
She smiles against my lips. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.” We kiss, and the monitor goes all kinds of crazy. I’m surprise the nurse isn’t rushing in with a crash cart.
My fingers slide under the edge of her T-shirt and glide across her soft skin, making up for lost time. The door opens, but the meaning of it doesn’t register until a female voice interrupts our moment. “Is everything all right in here?”
I move away only far enough so that Amber’s forehead rests against mine. “I’ll say.”
The nurse chuckles and leaves us to enjoy the rest of the kiss. Unfortunately, Amber decides to go back to chaste pecks on the lips. I groan. How much longer do I have to stay here before I can have her in my apartment and back in my bed?
Chapter Fifty-Five
Amber
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Marcus asks from the passenger seat of my car. I’d planned to see my mom today, for better or for worse, and Marcus came with me, saying he had a surprise.
I still don’t know what it is.
I smile at him, thankful he’s here, even if I want to face Mom on my own. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, call me when you’re finished.” He leans over and kisses me on the lips. I’m tempted to deepen the kiss and stay in the car with him, but know I have to get this over with. And I know Marcus needs to stretch his legs after the drive. It’s been a week since he was shot. He needs to take things easy for a while, and continue to wear the sling. But that isn’t stopping him from taking a short walk in the freshly fallen snow.
“Be careful,” I remind him. “The sidewalks might be slippery.”
“You’re sexy when you worry.” He chuckles and kisses me, again. His tongue trails along my lower lip, hinting he wants more. I give in to him, because let’s face it, I’m willing to do almost anything for this man.
Before things get too steamy, and Mom catches me making out with him on the driveway, I pull away.
I use my key to get into the house. I’m about to call out to see if Mom’s home, when I hear a light bang from the kitchen, like someone’s putting a glass on the counter.
As I walk through the house, I notice the absence of Christmas decorations. We used to love decorating the house. It was a family tradition. Mom would make hot chocolate and play cheesy Christmas music and we would spend the day decorating. Now more than ever, the place feels forgotten.
Pushing away the heartache at how much Paul altered our lives, I enter the kitchen. Mom’s standing at the counter, lost in thought. An empty glass rests on the granite surface.
My heart lurches. “Hey Mom.”
At first she stares at me like she’s hallucinating, then her mouth glides into a smile. She rushes to me and throws her arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I’ve missed you, Amber.” She pulls away and wipes a stray tear. “How’s school?”
I’m only able to open and shut my mouth, a fish in a bowl, unable to make a sound. I eventually find my voice after Mom gives me a peculiar look. “It’s fine.” Other than the D I’ll probably get in math.
I eye the glass on the counter.
“I was drinking milk before you came in. I’m attending weekly AA meetings again and seeing a therapist. And I left my position at the firm.”
“But you love your job.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe once. Before Paul Carson killed Michael and hurt you so badly, I thought I’d lost you forever. I struggled with the job, because I couldn’t defend to the best of my abilities like I’d sworn I would do. So I started drinking. It was the only way I could make it through the day, knowing I was helping people like Paul, who willingly destroyed without regret.
“It didn’t help that I thought you hated being around me, because I failed you by not protecting you. I didn’t handle Michael’s death well at all. But no matter what you might have believed, Amber, I never blamed you for what happened to him. It wasn’t your fault. I hope you know what.”
I do, but hearing it from her makes it even more real. “Why would you think that I hated being around you?”
“Because you avoided me once you were released from the hospital. You spent more time at your grandma’s house than you did here.”
I can only blink. “I stayed at Grandma’s because you wouldn’t let me keep Smoky. He’d been through so much, and he was so scared. I needed to be there to help him heal. I was the only one he trusted to do that, until he realized Grandma wouldn’t hurt him.”
Mom brushes a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was little. “I’m sorry, Amber. I should have just asked you. I let my stupid pride get in the way. Anyway, it was your phone call that reminded me just how important you are to me. That, and my mother told me I’m an idiot and needed to smarten up. I thought she was going to ground me like she did when I was a teen.” We both laugh at that. “I’m not giving up law. I’m just changing the side of the fence I’m sitting on.”
We talk for a while longer, and I tell her about my change of career plans. She’s more excited about it than I thought she would be. Then I call Marcus and introduce them when he shows up a minute later.
I’m a little nervous at first, but she accepts him just like she accepted Trent. Fortunately she doesn’t ask about his sling, though she doesn’t seem surprised by it, either. Maybe Grandma told her what limited information I shared with her on the phone last week. I mentioned he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was shot. They don’t need to know all the details. And not all are for me tell.
Marcus and I are still deciding what to do about Tammara. Despite what she did to both of us, neither of us is interested in destroying her future. We’re going to talk to her after Christmas, once we’ve decided what to do.
Mom makes hot chocolate, and the three of us hang up Christmas decorations. She doesn’t have a tree, but she explains she doesn’t need one. She’s spending Christmas with us at Grandma’s house when we come back next week.
Once we’re finished, Marcus and I head to Grandma’s, where Marcus explains my surprise is waiting. We walk to the front door holding hands.
We don’t have a chance to ring the doorbell. The door opens and Grandma hugs me and then Marcus, taking care not to hurt his shoulder.
Inside, I breathe in the familiar spicy smell of spruce and gingerbread. No fake Christmas trees for Grandma.
“You two want some milk and cookies?” she asks.
“Sure.” I scan the area for signs of Smoky as Marcus replies, “Yes, please.”
Grandma flashes me a knowing smile. “He’s on the couch, waiting for you.”
I grin and let go of Marcus’s hand. He follows me into the living room.
“So what’s the surprise?” I plunk myself on the cushion next to Smoky.
Marcus sits next to me, our bodies touching, and reaches over to stroke Smoky. Smoky purrs in response, stands, and relocates himself so he’s sitting on both our laps.
“This is your surprise,” Marcus says.
I feel my eyebrows head north for the winter. “Smoky sitting on our laps is my surprise?”
Marcus laughs. “No. I know how much you miss him and it’s obvious how much he misses you. So if you want, he can stay at my place. Chase is fine with it. Then you’ll have a reason to visit more often.”
I blink several times while his words sink in. This is a huge step for Marcus. For both of us.
I cup his face in my hand and give him a long, deep kiss, which he’s more than happy to return.
Sighing softly, I pull back and rest my forehead against his. His warm, rapid breath caresses my face.
“I already have a very good reason to visit you often,” I say. “But thank you. It means everything to me.” I can tell from the smile on his face that he already knows this. I have time to give him one more lingering kiss before Grandma returns. One more lingering kiss to show him how amazing I think he is, and to show how much I love him.
* * *
“You know what you want?” the man asks Emma.
She smiles and points to a small basketball picture on the wall. “And I want it to say Trent below it.” After I showed her the tattoo on my arm, Emma asked me where I got mine done. She wants her tribute to her brother to go on her ankle.
“What about you?” Kathy asks. I show her the picture I brought with me of a purple lotus flower. She directs me to the room I was in last time. Marcus comes with me, still laughing that I’ll be more inked up than him.
I take off my T-shirt and suddenly feel shy standing in front of him in only my bra and jeans. Seeing my discomfort, he winks. You’d think he’s never seen me this way before, the way my face heats up.
I sit on the tattoo table and describe where I want the tattoo: on the back of my shoulder, near the worst of my scars.
“Did you know the lotus flower symbolizes courage and awakening?” Kathy asks. “The flower starts off small at the bottom of the murky pond and it grows toward the light. By the time it reaches the surfaces, it’s the beautiful flower that we see.”
Sounds like the last year of my life.
I smile at Marcus, who’s smiling back at me. “I know.” And I do. We’re both ready to surface, ready to let others in. Ready to find normal.
* * * * *
About the Author
Born in Brighton, England, Stina Lindenblatt has lived in a number of countries, including England, the U.S., Finland and Canada.
Stina has a physical education degree from the University of Calgary and a master’s of science in exercise physiology from the University of Alberta, where she specialized in energy metabolism. Definitely cool stuff. She also had the opportunity to work with elite athletes through the universities and at several sport-training facilities. During her undergrad, she worked in Helsinki, Finland, for one summer, cleaning bathrooms and saunas in a recreation center for the elderly. In grad school, she lived in Jyväskylä (central Finland) for a semester. She eventually became a pharmaceutical sales representative and now writes full-time.
In addition to writing fiction, Stina loves photography, especially the close-up variety. She currently lives in Calgary, Canada, with her husband and three kids.