Enshrine

by Chelle Bliss

  know, but I should.

  When he walks back through the doors, he has three large bags in his hands. “You doing okay?” he asks me as he sits down on the stool in front of me.

  “Yeah.” I motion toward the bags and try to see what is inside.

  “Just a little something for the patients.” He reaches for something inside the bag sitting closest to him, and I can’t drag my eyes away. He pulls out a stack of paperbacks and holds them up to show me the spines. “I thought they could use some new reading material around here.”

  This man. God, he’s full of surprises. “You bought presents?” I can’t hide my shock.

  He continues to pull out books, candy, and snacks. “Some people have to spend a lot more time here than you. They deserve new books to help them sit through treatment.”

  I gawk at him. I mean, this man may be a dream. No man is as good as he is to complete strangers. How in the hell could he be Bruno “The Butcher” but also be a man who brings books to cancer patients?

  Impossible.

  “Got a few other things too.” The last bag holds neck pillows. Before I can say a word, he hands them out to a few people in the room and walks back to me with a smile on his face. “I figured they’d be more comfortable.”

  “Who are you?” I ask and shake my head.

  “What?”

  “Who are you? I just don’t get it. I don’t get you. You’re a conundrum.”

  “I’m just me, Cal.” He pulls the stool under him and scoots closer.

  I lean forward. “You’re not who they say you are,” I whisper and look around the room to see if anyone heard me, but they are too busy with the new books and pillows to pay me any mind.

  He shrugs. “People rarely are.”

  “So who are you?”

  “Bruno.”

  Fucker. “The Butcher?”

  “So I’ve heard.” He grins.

  “Okay. Answer this.” I lean closer. “How could a man called ‘The Butcher’ bring a pillow to someone they don’t know?” I raise one of my painted eyebrows for effect.

  “Because they don’t know the real me. They know the rumors, they make up stories, but none of them knows who I really am.”

  “Well, that’s obvious.” I laugh softly and cover my mouth, trying not to draw attention to us.

  “What do you do, exactly?”

  He looks around the room before staring me straight in the eyes. “I’m everything they say I am and more.”

  My eyes widen. “Really?”

  He laughs. “No, Cal. You’re too easy.”

  My lips snarl. “Well, you didn’t get that nickname by rescuing puppies.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest and smirks. “Tell me what you think I do.”

  I move around in my seat, barely able to contain my excitement. “Okay.” I rub my hands together and start thinking about criminals. “Drug dealer?”

  “Nope.” His face doesn’t change.

  “Contract killer.” I nod because that would make total sense.

  “Nah.” He winks.

  I sigh and try to think of other illegal activities that would fit with his M.O. “Money launderer?”

  “No.” One of his hands comes up near his mouth as he rests a finger against his lips.

  “Fuck,” I mumble and lean back in my chair. My mind doesn’t work this way.

  “You think I’d steal innocent people’s shit?” His eyebrows draw together, which is funny. He isn’t so bothered when I ask if he’s a contract killer, but the thought of me thinking he’s a thief bothers him. Let the conundrum continue.

  “Sorry.” I shrug for some reason. “Just pulling shit out of the air. Bank robber?”

  “Not even close.”

  Well, shit. “I got it.” I snap my fingers. “Pimp!” He almost falls off the chair from laughing so hard, and the people in the room look over at us. I smile, completely embarrassed. “You’re a pimp. Aren’t you? It makes sense,” I whisper.

  His eyes sparkle with laughter as the tiny lines around his eyes deepen. “How in your beautiful, brilliant mind does that make sense?”

  I tap my finger against my lips and think of a good case for why it fits. “Um, well. You’re gone late at night. I’d imagine that’s when most of the action happens.” I waggle my eyebrows. “You have to have a strong pimp hand so people are scared of you, right? I mean, that’s what I think.”

  “Honey.” He caresses my cheek, trying to hold in his laughter. “You’ve listened to one too many Snoop songs.”

  “So not a pimp?” I purse my lips and start to giggle.

  “Nope. Not a pimp.”

  “I’m running out of shit here, Brun.”

  “I know.” His smile widens.

  “Hacker?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Human trafficker?”

  That one earns me a look that can only be described as I need to check myself into the nuthouse. “Bookie?”

  His eyebrows rise again.

  “That’s it.”

  “No.”

  “Fuck,” I drag my hands down my cheeks, almost out of ideas.

  “Blackmail?”

  “You’re stretching now.”

  “Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I’ll stick with pimp. It’s the funniest.”

  He rubs his face, but I can see his smile.

  The nurse approaches us. “You’re all done.”

  I glance up at her in shock. “Already?”

  “It goes faster when you’re having fun.” She winks at me and her eyes flicker to Bruno.

  I nod and bite my lip. “Same time next week?” she asks as she unhooks everything.

  “Same time.”

  She bends forward, close to my ear. “Bring the cute guy again. It helps time pass faster for us too.” She straightens and winks at me before walking off with her hips swaying.

  “I think you have a fan.”

  “It must be my pimp hand.” He laughs.

  Fucker.

  Even if I haven’t figured out a damn thing, Bruno made the time fly by. Instead of focusing on the bad, we laughed and talked the entire time. Everything is different with him around. Time goes faster, life seems easier, cancer feels beatable, and I smile more. He’s invaded every aspect of my life and made it better.

  I’ll even admit…I need him.

  21

  Stage 5—Acceptance

  I’m not okay with what’s happening to me. No one in my shoes ever is, but I can accept my fate and move on. Control is something I’ve always needed, and I feel like I’ve started to get it back slowly. Although I can’t wave a magic wand and make myself better, I can take control of my treatment.

  The fifth round of chemo goes easier than I expected. Even afterward, I don’t get as sick as I have before. I don’t know if my insides are dead and the chemo just isn’t packing as big of a punch or if I’ve grown used to feeling sick.

  Bruno waits with me for a couple of hours after we get home. He watches for any sign that I’m getting sick, but it doesn’t happen. Just after eight, Becca shows up at my door and they swap places.

  “So that’s how this is going to go?” I ask as she walks in and tosses her purse on the counter.

  She touches her chest and laughs. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You two are ganging up on me¸ Bec.”

  “He’s just worried and so am I. I figured he’d open the door for me when you wouldn’t.” She sticks out her tongue.

  “I would’ve.” I smile innocently.

  She sits next to me, almost collapsing. “You lie, but I love you anyway. B called me and told me to come hang out while he went to work.”

  “Oh, he did, did he?” I cross my arms and think of ways I can make him pay later. Who am I kidding? This is Bruno. “You’re calling him B now?”

  She chuckles, blushing slightly. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Don’t even get me started on the fact that I said he had to go to work like he has a rea
l job.”

  I giggle, softly at first before it grows louder. “I tried to guess what he did today. Epic fail.”

  “Oh my God.” Her mouth hangs open.

  “Yep. I ran out of options in the criminal world.”

  “Do you think he’d actually tell you?” She looks at me as if I’m insane. I’ve been getting that look a lot lately.

  I shrug through my laughter, recalling how he reacted to the pimp comment. The man can scare the bejesus out of people, but when he laughs, nothing is more mesmerizing and beautiful than he is.

  “Jesus, how did I not notice?” She smacks herself in the head. “You look amazing, Cal.” She reaches out and touches the ends of my hair, rubbing them. “It’s so real.”

  “That’s because it is, dork.” I bat her hand away. “What’s new in Becca’s world?”

  “Not much. Still single and lonely, working more hours than I care to admit. But other than that, just great,” she says sarcastically. “How about you?”

  “Well, Bruno has decided I can no longer be trusted with my own care. But I have to admit, Bec, I feel better than I have in a while.”

  “Yeah?” she asks with excitement.

  “I don’t mean I feel amazing physically, but I feel like I can actually beat it.”

  “Bruno.” She sighs.

  “He’s one reason why. There’s something about him. I don’t understand it.”

  “Me either. Maybe he just scares you so much that you forget about the cancer.”

  He did scare me, but that was ages ago. Maybe I never was afraid of him; I honestly can’t remember what put me off before. “Did you know I fucked him?”

  “Ah, yeah. That happened a few weeks ago. I’m not an idiot.” She rolls her eyes.

  I shake my head vigorously. “No. No. Like a long time ago!”

  She hits my leg and gasps. “Get the fuck out of here! When?”

  “New Year’s Eve a couple of years ago. He told me about it last night. What the fuck? I don’t even remember. I knew I was drunk, but not so drunk I’d forget fucking him.”

  “Fuck,” she hisses. “I wouldn’t forget a second of that man inside me.”

  “Um,” I mumble, feeling a bit awkward and possessive of Bruno. “TMI.”

  “How is he?” She bounces on the couch.

  My body feels weightless and my hands tingle. Not because I’m thinking about fucking him, but because this feels like the old us—the pre-cancer us. We are best friends. She’s the one person in my life I can confide in and not be judged. Everything about today feels right. “Great.”

  She grabs my face and comes really close. “A girl does not just say ‘great’ when talking about sleeping with Bruno. I want the details, Cal. It’s only fair.”

  She holds my face so tightly I make guppy lips when I speak. “How is that fair?”

  “’Cause I tell you everything.” She releases me and crosses her hands on her lap as if we are talking about shoes.

  My eyes grow wide and wild. “You lie.”

  “I told you about Jason and that thing he did with his tongue.”

  I wince and hold my hand up. “Don’t repeat it.”

  “You’ll never understand.”

  “I’m good.”

  “But I share.”

  She does and so do I, but I’m not willing to talk about Bruno. Not even with Becca. “I do too. I’m thirsty. Can you make me some tea?” I ask, touching my neck and praying she falls for it.

  “Anything you want.” She gets up and heads toward the kitchen but stops in the doorway. “We’re not through talking about him, though. Just so you know.”

  I nod and smile, but I don’t plan to tell her anything. Some things are better left unsaid. Bruno has a reputation to uphold, and although I love Becca, she can be a blabbermouth. No one on the street needs to know about the other side, the only one I know, of the man—not even Becca.

  By the time she walks back into the living room with my favorite Twinings tea in her hand, The Voice has started. It’s our guilty pleasure. If we aren’t together when it’s on, we text the entire time like teenagers. The timing works out perfectly. We sit in silence and chatter about the contestants during the commercials.

  When the front door opens and closes, I glance at the clock. The show has only five minutes left, and there is no way Bec can ask me about Bruno with him here. I smile and do the happy dance inside.

  “What are you ladies up to?” he asks as he strides into the living room.

  “Shh!” Becca blurts without looking away from the television.

  He puts his arm around me and places his mouth next to my ear when he sits. “She takes this kinda serious, doesn’t she?” he whispers and rests his hand against my shoulder.

  “Yep. Shh,” I tell him because so do I.

  He kicks off his boots and sets his feet on the coffee table before relaxing into the couch next to me. I put my head on his shoulder and watch the final person sing. The song is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. She sings part of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera. Every word of that song reminds me of the last month. The way I’ve struggled with my self-image from the chemo, and how my entire outlook on life has changed. I’m not the same person. I’m better than she had ever been. Every word speaks to me.

  Bruno wipes a tear from my cheek as it trickles down, stopping it before it drops onto my chest. I give him a small smile because I can see the concern in his eyes. He probably isn’t listening to the words or doesn’t understand how they impact me, but they do.

  “That was amazing.” Becca starts to clap.

  “Yeah.” I swallow down the lump.

  “She was okay.” Bruno plays it cool. I can tell this isn’t his type of show, but even someone who has never watched it can appreciate the beauty of a song sung by someone with a killer voice.

  Reaching over, I grab his hand and hold on tight. He was only away for a few hours, but I still missed him. My days and nights are easier since I know he’ll be there with me. He is there for the good, the bad, and definitely the ugly.

  “You two probably want to be alone, huh?” Becca looks over at me.

  When I glance at her, she winks. “You can stay,” I lie. I want