Escapades (Trident Ink Book 1)

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Escapades (Trident Ink Book 1) Page 4

by Lilly Atlas


  He turned to her and Derek. “My office is just here, next door, and there’s a large widow so you can see her playing.”

  With a wave for Katie and the older nurse, they followed him into the next room.

  “Have a seat, please,” Dr. Oakes said as they entered the small office. There wasn’t anything special about the space. Just a desk, two chairs, and bookshelf littered with medical texts and journals.

  Alyssa’s decorator’s eye cringed at the white walls devoid of anything save for a few framed diplomas and a medical license. The workspace needed a good revamp. It should be colorful and playful, especially since children were often around.

  Shaking herself back to the moment, she sat and waited for Derek to join her. She tried to concentrate on steadying the in and out of her breathing when what she really wanted to do was lunge across the desk and shake the doctor until he gave them promising news.

  Once all three adults were seated and Katie was playing with blocks next door and blissfully unaware that those adults were discussing her, Dr. Oakes began.

  “So, how’s Katie feeling today?” he asked.

  Ugh. Alyssa just wanted him to get straight to it. Though it had only been two days since the bone marrow biopsy, it felt like an eternity and another few seconds of uncertainty seemed impossible to endure.

  “Pretty well,” Derek said. “No fever today. She ate a little more breakfast and is just a little sore from the procedure.”

  Dr. Oakes nodded and shuffled through a haphazard pile of papers on his desk. Alyssa stared at him, hard, dissecting his features for any indication of how this meeting was going to play out.

  Did that wrinkle between his eyes mean he had bad news?

  Wait, a smile. That had to be positive, right?

  He scratched his chin. What could that mean?

  Derek squeezed her hand. He was so in tune with her. She sent him a grateful smile and returned the grip. She loved the man more than she ever thought it was possible to love someone.

  “Good to hear.” Dr. Oakes said. “So, just to review, my main concerns with Katie were the nausea and weight loss, fatigue, and fevers. Usually, these symptoms are associated with either viral or bacterial infections. We become concerned, however, when the symptoms do not respond to treatment as has been the case with Katie. Combine that with the easy bruising you’re reporting, and the nosebleeds, and it was time to start digging a bit deeper, hence the bone marrow biopsy.”

  He sighed. A long, troubled, deep sigh. Then he raised his head and stared straight into her eyes.

  Alyssa’s stomach plummeted straight to the floor. In that instant, she knew what was coming and had the strong and juvenile urge to close her eyes, plug her ears and scream, “la la la,” at the top of her lungs.

  “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to give it to you straight.”

  No. No, no, no.

  Derek’s hold on her hand tightened to the point of painful, but she didn’t object. It was the only thing keeping her from flying out of the seat and running away from reality.

  “Katie’s official diagnosis is Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.”

  A low buzzing started in Alyssa’s ears and increased in volume until it drowned out the rest of the doctor’s words. The medical world was a mystery to her, but she knew the word leukemia meant cancer. And she knew cancer was bad. As in worst case scenario bad.

  Oh God. Not my baby.

  Not her perfect, innocent baby girl with the blond pigtails. She stared at her daughter through the glass. Oblivious to the conversation, Katie giggled as her tower of blocks grew too high and toppled.

  An impending sob clawed at her throat, but she somehow forced it down. Later, she could lose it. Later, she could rage and cry until her eyes felt like sandpaper and her throat was raw. But not now. Not in front of Katie.

  Through the roaring in her ears, she caught words like oncologist, chemotherapy, hospitalization and for a few moments, she worried she’d throw up. She should have questions. Hundreds of questions. But nothing came. Her brain couldn’t process the words being said. After an unknown amount of time, she felt a gentle tug on her arm.

  Derek was standing next to her chair, one hand on her upper back and one cupping her elbow. She blinked. Apparently, the meeting was over. Rising with robotic, jerky movements, she nodded to the doctor whose face was sad and sympathetic. Then she turned and followed Derek out of the office.

  Thank God, her brain seemed to a have an automatic mode because she couldn’t have functioned otherwise.

  Left foot. Right foot. Her muscles triggered of their own accord, guiding her to the exit.

  “Are you okay, Mommy?” Katie slipped her hand into Alyssa’s and peered up while they walked toward the car. Her little forehead was furrowed and eyes wide. “You look sad. Don’t be sad, mommy. I love you.”

  The ache those few sweet words caused was nearly crushing in its force. Alyssa swallowed her despair and smiled the biggest smile she could muster. Which was probably only a fraction of what she usually gifted her daughter. But it was better than nothing. There was no way she’d let her daughter know how distraught she was.

  So, she pulled herself together and scooped Katie up, carrying her the rest of the way toward the car. Derek slipped his arm around her waist. His presence helped bolster her and provided the strength she needed to be positive for Katie. “I’m great, sweetie. Are you excited to go out to lunch with Aunt Roxie?”

  “Yes!” Katie said. “I want chiten nuggets.”

  Derek ruffled her hair. “I’m sure Aunt Roxie will get you whatever you want, bug. She always spoils you.” He buckled Katie into her car seat, shut the door, then cupped Alyssa’s face.

  “Fifteen minutes, babe. Just have to hold it together for fifteen more minutes, then you can lose it. Okay?”

  “O-okay.”

  About twenty seconds after they parked in their driveway, Roxie’s Toyota pulled in behind them. As soon as she was unbuckled, Katie ran to greet her and climbed right into Roxie’s car. Roxie had purchased a car seat before Katie was even born. She’d been almost as excited as Alyssa and Derek for the little girl they’d be bringing into the world. Since day one, she’d spent a ton of time with her goddaughter.

  “Hey, you okay?” Roxie asked.

  “Um, yeah. I’m good,” Alyssa said in what she was sure was a totally unconvincing voice. “Headache.”

  Roxie narrowed her eyes. “Okay, if you say so. I’ll bring her back in a few hours. Have fun, you two crazy kids.” She winked and slipped into her car, driving off with a cheerful wave.

  “Come on, Lyss. Let’s go in the house.”

  The moment the door closed, Alyssa said, “It’s my fault. My punishment for all my sins, Derek. For turning away from my family. For barely speaking to them.”

  He gripped her face between his rough hands and looked her straight in the eye. “Lyss, stop. That’s not true and you damn well know it. That’s your father talking. And it’s garbage. You’re just freaking out and not thinking clearly.”

  He was right. No one had caused this. It was just horrible luck—or unluck—of the draw.

  Suddenly the magnitude of what they were about to face hit her with a powerful force. The fear, pain, and helplessness were crushing. It was as though the air itself had weight to it and pressed into her from all angles, hard enough to grind her to dust.

  Her forehead dropped to Derek’s chest and she lost the battle to remain stoic. Giant tears fell from her eyes and she cried the ugliest cry she could ever remember crying. Derek’s arms banded around her, and he held her close through the full-body sobs. He whispered to her, stroked her hair, and rocked her back and forth right there in their foyer. The soft brush of his beard against her cheek and the familiar scent of beard oil comforted her more than any words could have.

  When she finally calmed, she looked up at him. His eyes were glassy and his face as tragic as hers had to be. Immediately, the heavy weight of shame and
selfishness pressed down on her shoulders. Here he was, comforting her when Katie was his daughter too, and he had to be as wrecked as she was.

  “What are we going to do, Der?” she asked, her throat ravaged from the crying jag.

  “The only thing we can do, baby. Fight like hell. She’s a tough kiddo. She’s gonna kick this in the ass. And we’ll be right by her side every step of the way.”

  She was a tough kid, they were by her side every step of the way, and they’d fought it with every weapon in their specialist’s arsenal. But it hadn’t worked, and after months of grueling treatment, the oncologist gave them the news that came with a pain so great Alyssa couldn’t breathe.

  The treatment wasn’t working. Ineffective was the word he’d used. Still made her sick to her stomach every time she heard that word.

  Her baby wasn’t going to make it.

  In the privacy of her room, she’d railed and screamed and shed so many tears she could have filled a pool, but in front of Katie, she’d always tried to put on a happy face.

  They’d lost the battle.

  A little piece of her heart died right alongside her only child.

  Chapter Six

  Derek smiled as the buzz of the tattoo machine filled the near-empty shop. Seven thirty on Tuesday morning, an hour and a half before his shop opened, and the only occupants of the eclectic space were him and his client, Hunter.

  Six months ago, Hunter had been medically discharged from the Navy after an IED took one of his legs, just below the knee, as well as one arm halfway between his elbow and wrist. Physically, the man was a beast and adapted to his prosthetic limbs faster and with more proficiency than anyone Derek had seen. Unfortunately, as for most injured vets, the physical healing was only half the battle, maybe less than half.

  Loud or crowded spaces were challenging for Hunter who was battling a wicked case of PTSD. Something Derek knew about all too well. Since Trident Ink tended to blast pulsing music and be full of large, gruff and raucous clients as well as staff during working hours, Derek was more than willing to accommodate Hunter and was working on the man during the off hours.

  It was one of his best pieces yet if he did say so himself. He’d been inking it for over two months, and a few more sessions should do it. From the tip of his shoulder to the end of Hunter’s limb, where the amputation had taken place, Derek was transforming the skin, some smooth and some scarred, into the inner working of a cyborg. Gears, nuts, bolts, wires, metallic colors, the whole shebang. It was badass and would look amazing when paired with Hunter’s top-of-the-line prosthesis.

  Reclined in the chair, arm stretched out on a table, Hunter’s eyes were closed and earbuds in. Confident that his client was tolerating the needle without too much discomfort or needing a break, Derek lost himself converting Hunter’s arm to a work of art.

  After a while, his lower back began to twinge, so Derek switched off the machine and wiped dots of blood from Hunter’s skin.

  “Shit, man, that’s sick.” Derek jumped when Brett, his business partner and piercer extraordinaire spoke over his shoulder. Thank God Brett had held off on the sneak attack until he was through inking Hunter’s skin.

  “Geez, bro, what the hell are you creeping up on me like that for? You know I’d have to kill you if you fucked up Hunter’s ink.”

  Brett smiled a shit-eating grin and lifted a hand in greeting to Hunter as he strode across the shop. “I couldn’t resist. You were so far gone into the zone you had no idea I’ve been here for twenty minutes. It’s getting close to opening time, thought you might want to wrap it up with him. And I purposely waited until I was sure you were shut down. I don’t have a death wish.”

  With a grunt, Derek set about bandaging his client’s fresh ink. Hunter pulled out his earbuds and said a quick greeting to Brett who was scanning the appointment scheduler on the computer behind the reception desk. There were still a good fifteen minutes before they officially opened, and it was unusual for Brett to be in any earlier than one minute before go time. Typically, he rolled out of whatever woman’s bed he’d spent the night in ten minutes before his first client, left her without a word, and hightailed it to the shop.

  “How’s it looking?” Hunter asked, breaking Derek out of his thoughts.

  He couldn’t help the giant grin that spread across his face. “Damn good, brother. If we push it, I might be able to get it completed in the next session, if not, two more max.”

  “Sweet,” Hunter said as he swung his legs around and sat sideways on the reclining chair.

  “Let me grab you something to drink. Sit for a minute.”

  Hunter gave him a mock salute. “I know the drill, LT.”

  Derek jogged toward the refrigerator and grabbed Brett a bottle of juice. “You need me to review the aftercare?” he asked, handing over the beverage.

  “Nah, I’m good. Been through it enough times lately.” It was their fifth session, working about three hours at a time.

  “All right, man. I’ll have Trish call you to make an appointment when she gets in.”

  “Sounds good, Derek. Thanks. Appreciate you adjusting your hours for me.”

  Derek waved it off. “Ain’t a thing, bro.”

  They shook hands then Hunter headed out, calling, “See ya, Brett,” as he passed the reception desk.

  “Later,” Brett answered.

  Derek began the process of breaking down his equipment and loading the autoclave which would sterilize everything. He could do it in his sleep and finished in no time, which meant he had a few spare minutes to grab a cup of coffee before his first official client rolled in.

  He spun toward the coffee machine and stopped in his tracks when he took in the amused look on Brett’s face. “What? Something in my teeth?”

  “Ha, no.” Brett laughed. “You look good today, man. In fact, you’ve seemed different the past few days. Relaxed. Dare I say happy? Been a while.”

  Both statements were true. He was more relaxed, happier. Sure, it had been four days since his erotic date with Kristin, but the memories still played through his mind and had powered him through the days with a positive outlook. Something that had been absent from his life for too long.

  “Yeah, I’ve been feeling pretty good lately. Coffee?”

  “Shit, yes,” Brett said in a reverent tone. “Haven’t had any yet this morning.”

  “Aww, what happened? Your nightly conquest didn’t offer you a pancake breakfast and homemade cappuccino?” The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the shop as he filled two cups.

  Brett snorted. “No, she did not,” he said, unabashed as he accepted the cup of coffee Derek handed him. He upended the sugar and let the sweet crystals pour into the cup. “I didn’t mean to stay until morning, but I passed out. She got a little miffed when I called her by the wrong name this morning.” He shrugged and sipped what had to be crazy-sweet coffee. “Ahh, good stuff.”

  Derek could practically feel a toothache forming just watching Brett drink the sugar-loaded beverage. “Ugh, I don’t know how you can drink it like that. Especially that mocha crap you get from Farhad. You’re a SEAL for Christ’s sake. Black’s the only way to go, my friend.”

  Farhad was an elderly middle-eastern gentleman who owned a convenience store down the block from Trident Ink. He sold great coffee, and Brett lived off these sugary mocha latte things he sold.

  Brett tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh. “That’s exactly why I drink it like this. Way too many years of sludge and instant coffee. Now I can and do doctor it the hell up.”

  “How’s Farhad doing by the way?” Brett asked. “I haven’t been in for my usual in way too long.”

  Derek and Farhad had struck up a bit of a friendship. His wife was currently undergoing chemotherapy for leukemia. Not the same kind Katie had, but his wife was just as sick as she’d been. It was a true struggle for the older man and Derek could relate to the pain of watching a loved one suffer with the terrible disease.

  “Talked
to him yesterday. Things are tough. Money is tight. She’s always feeling like shit and he’s away a lot keeping the store running. They have a good family though.”

  Brett shook his head. “Fuckin’ cancer.”

  “You said it.”

  He slapped Derek on the back. “Damn, man, I gotta say it’s good to see you smiling and joking this morning. Bagging on me about my superb taste in coffee. Been a while. Things getting better between you and Alyssa?”

  With a cough, Derek almost spewed his coffee across the room. Better with him and Alyssa? What the hell? Sure, he and Alyssa knew their marriage was on shaky ground, but…their friends noticed it too? He’d never mentioned a word of it to Brett. “What do you mean? Things are fine with us.”

  His buddy set down his coffee and crossed his arms over his wide chest. In some regards, he and Brett had a similar look. Tall, broad-shouldered, bearded, muscular without being overly bulky. But the similarities ended there. Where Derek was dark, Brett was light, with sandy hair, hazel eyes, and a much blonder beard.

  A few times, Alyssa had compared him to Charlie Hunnam and boy did that go straight to Brett’s already too big head. He’d strutted around for months using the description shamelessly to bed women. The man was truly a slut.

  One light eyebrow rose, and Brett remained silent, shooting Derek a you’re-full-of-shit look.

  “What?”

  “Come on, D. We may not be touchy-feely, vomit-your-emotions guys, but we’re usually straight with each other. Anyone with eyes can see things have deteriorated between you and Alyssa since…well in the last year or so. I haven’t seen you fight or anything, but I also haven’t seen you together. In ages. You stopped coming out together and stopped hosting Sunday brunch. You’ve been doing that shit every Sunday for what, six years?”

  Another denial was on the tip of his tongue, but Brett knew him too well to buy any bullshit coming from his mouth. They’d been friends going on eighteen years, ever since they were paired as swim buddies in BUDS, the hellacious training all SEALS suffered through. Those experiences, plus years of being on the same SEAL team forged an unbreakable bond. It was only natural they’d go into business together when they separated from the military.

 

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