by Amity Cross
Pushing through the double doors, I wandered down the hall in a daze. Replaying the surgery I just performed step by step, I could almost believe I was standing there doing it all over again. When energy levels bottomed out and hallucinations began, it was time to clock off and get some sleep. I wondered if Josh was around tonight. Cuddling up against him while wrapped in the blankets I was dreaming about earlier sounded real nice.
Spying Gunner lingering down the hall, I smiled and raised my hand in a wave. It’d been a little while since I had time to see her, and I was glad I’d caught her down this end of the hospital.
“Hey,” she said as I came level with her. “You look tired. Everything okay?”
“Surgery kicked my ass today,” I replied.
She nodded back toward the operating theaters. “I just got out myself. Emergency appendectomy. So fun.” She rolled her eyes.
“At least it’s over in under an hour,” I retorted. “I’ve been in there for eight hours.”
“I know which I’d rather,” she joked. “How are things with you and the beefcake?”
“Things with Josh are a little tense at the moment,” I said, as we walked. “But we’re working through it.”
“Yeah? That sucks.”
“Yeah, but he seems to want to work at it, which is—”
My gaze collided with a vase of white lilies, and for a moment, I believed they were a hallucination, but that was until Gunner opened her mouth.
“More flowers?” she exclaimed as we stood before them.
They sat on the bench by the exit to the ICU like they were mocking me. We stopped before them, just staring at the unwanted arrival like it was a vase full of Venus Flytraps.
“I thought it’d stopped,” I said, my gaze falling to the card wedged between the stems.
“Even I’m beginning to get creeped out, Blue. Once or twice is sweet, but when it gets to… How many is this now?”
“Five.”
“Shit,” she said. “Someone needs to get a hint. What does the card say?”
A part of me didn’t want to touch the little envelope for fear it might be laced with poison, but I knew I’d only find another quote that eerily reflected my life.
Hesitantly, I plucked it from its perch between the stems and slipped the card out of the envelope. It was the same as all the others in look and feel, but this time, the quote was a little more…suggestive.
I would rather fight with you than make love to anyone else.
I dropped the card, feeling sick to my stomach. Secret admirer was fast turning into serial killer. There was movement behind us, and I glance over my shoulder, my heart thumping, but it was only a nurse passing us on her rounds.
“What is it?” Gunner asked.
“I feel sick,” I blurted, shoving the card at her.
She took it from my trembling fingers and read the message.
“Holly,” she said, glancing at me, concern plainly written across her features. “I think you’d better call the police.”
“I will,” I murmured, my skin prickling with goose bumps. “I will.”
Gunner waited with me until my ride home arrived outside the hospital.
The yellow taxi took me from door to door, and when I locked myself in my apartment, my chest heaved with a sigh that was a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Jittery had nothing on it. Dark corners were starting to become creepy. The windows that had never seen curtains in their lives seemed to be open for eyes that hid behind telescopes. Even though my apartment was fifteen stories up with no buildings close enough for Peeping Toms to set up shop, I felt exposed. Melbourne spread out before me, the dark sky and twinkling lights appearing more ominous than beautiful.
I hated that some creep had made me feel this way. Unsafe.
Dumping my keys and bag on the kitchen bench, I took out my phone and texted Josh.
I’m at home. It would be great to see you. xxx
I didn’t add the part about the flowers or the fear of being alone. A small…okay, a large part of me wanted him to come because he wanted to see me, not because he thought I needed protecting. I’d tell him all about it if he came.
Josh didn’t reply straight away, so I paced for five minutes with worst-case scenarios playing out in my mind. Things had been tense this morning when he’d dropped me off, despite the night we’d spent together. So tense I’d dived back into the car and kissed him desperately, trying to let him know that I still felt the same way about him. That the cold, hard, light of morning had changed nothing.
When my phone beeped, I knew I’d been obsessing over nothing.
Sure thing, Sparks. Give me 20.
Holding the stupid brick against my chest, I closed my eyes and scolded myself for being so highly strung. It was just the flowers that had put me on edge…and the echo of our confrontation at that warehouse last night.
Twenty minutes felt like twenty hours while I waited for Josh to arrive. When the buzzer went off, I made sure it was him down there before letting him up. When there was a knock at my front door, I jumped even though I knew it was him. I was acting irrational. I had to calm the fuck down.
Opening the door, I peered out at Josh, who stood on the other side with his hands jammed into his jeans pockets. He looked as tired as I felt, and his expression was somber. He’d let his stubble grow a little longer than usual and was starting to look a little rough around the edges…well, more than usual.
Moving aside so he could pass, I closed the door and double-checked the deadbolt, still feeling jittery about the appearance of the flowers.
“You good?” I asked.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” he replied, his voice sounding distant even though he was standing right beside me.
At least he’d been truthful about that. A couple of days ago, his stock standard answer would have been ‘yeah’, but now it was a little more revealing. Only a drop, but it was something. A small victory.
“I got another vase of flowers today,” I said, watching him carefully.
Josh straightened up, his expression turning to anger. “What?”
“This makes five.”
“You need to report it to Charlie. Make this shit official,” he pressed. “Did you keep the card this time?”
I nodded, pulling the little white envelope from my bag. I set it on top of the bench, and it sat there like a time bomb waiting to explode. Neither of us moved to touch it.
Finally, Josh swiped it up and slipped out the card to read the quote. I watched his expression morph from anger into rage, and I glanced away, knowing that a lot of power was coiled in that body of his. I hadn’t seen him fight, but going to that place, The Underground, I had a pretty good idea what lengths he had to go to for a win.
“Motherfucker,” he cursed, slapping the card back down onto the bench.
“Do you think it has something to do with that place you were fighting at?” I asked, worrying the hem of my top. “I was the doctor who treated you, and now we’re…” I wasn’t sure how to end that thought, so I punctuated it with a shrug. Were we just hanging out, or were we exclusive?
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “It isn’t their style.”
I didn’t have to be a genius to know what their style was. I’d seen it firsthand the night I found Josh outside the ER on the ground half-dead and paralyzed from the waist down. Talk about a lucky son of a bitch.
“You haven’t gone back there?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
He shook his head. “It’s been a day, Sparks.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “It’s just been a long couple of days. I’ve lost track of where I am, I think. I’m sorry.” Confused, emotionally exhausted, freaked out… I was a lot of things I wasn’t sure how to categorize right now.
“Here,” Josh said, wrapping his arms around me.
We stood for a moment, me cuddled against his hard chest while he rested his chin on the top of my head. His arms felt safe and warm, the threat
of the unknown flower stalker melting away into the background. I could just stand here forever, tangled in Josh Caplin, and never want for anything ever again.
“You working tomorrow?” he asked, breaking the spell.
I blinked. “Yeah.”
“Then let me know if you want me to come with you to see Charlie.”
“Sure,” I murmured.
“Make sure you go,” he scolded, pulling away.
“I’ll be safe in the hospital, Josh,” I complained. “There are security guards, cameras… We’re trained to deal with violent patients.”
He ran the hand that had been encased in plaster through my hair, reminding me of how easy it was to end up on the other side of the doctor patient status quo.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he grumbled.
“Neither do I, but I have a responsibility to my patients. I have a double knee reconstruction on a thirty-five-year-old marathon runner first thing. I’ll go when I’m free.”
“Thirty-five?” Josh asked, his eyes widening.
“Sometimes, the price people pay to keep competing at professional levels is steep,” I replied. “It isn’t the first or the last of these I’ll do.”
He grunted, narrowing his eyes, and I realized what I’d said had hit him where it hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” he interrupted.
Starting to feel really crap about the downward spiral our relationship seemed to be stuck in and the fact that I was a pro at sticking my foot in my mouth, I reached for the takeout menu on the bench, careful not to touch the white card that still sat where he’d dropped it earlier.
“Do you think we can order some food in?” I asked. “Just forget about stupid shit and…”
“Sure,” he murmured, taking the menu from me. “Whatever you want, Sparks. I’m good with that.”
A weak smile tugged at my lips, and I dug my phone from my bag and handed it to him. “Get whatever you like,” I said. “I’m going to have a quick shower.”
Leaving Josh to order dinner, I disappeared into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I turned the cold-water tap on in the basin and splashed my face. Glancing up at my reflection as I dabbed a towel over my skin, I sighed deeply, tension thick across my shoulders.
Why couldn’t we just be left alone? Whatever demons Josh was running from could just go get fucked. And whoever thought they were funny sending me vases upon vases of white lilies could just go suck a dick.
I was due some happiness, wasn’t I? After everything I’d been through in the last year, I needed something good. I needed someone like Josh to be the one. I needed Josh, but the more I thought about it I wasn’t sure he needed me. At least, not in the same way because he was still holding back, and I didn’t know what else to do to let him know that he could trust me.
Josh was slipping away, and it was taking everything I had to hold on.
This could still turn out to be a happily ever after…
Right?
25
Holly
When I emerged from the bathroom in a waft of steam, Josh had settled on the couch, and dinner had arrived.
He was staring out the windows at the Melbourne skyline, his brow creased. I could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he worried over whatever was bothering him.
I was dying to ask, to do something to help alleviate some of the burden, but I wasn’t sure questioning him was the right thing to do. Instead, I settled next to him, studying the same lights he did, worrying over my own thoughts.
He’d ordered pizza again, and when my stomach rumbled, I leaned over and opened the box. Hawaiian. I knew he didn’t care for pineapple, and my lips curved into a tiny smile. I picked the fruit off a slice, piling it on the side of the box before handing the customized bit of pizza to Josh.
We ate in silence, too many things hanging over our heads to even contemplate talking about any of it. The flowers and their creepy card had become nothing but an annoyance, my heart driving me to worry more about the man who sat next to me than my own mortality.
“Sparks…” Josh began, breaking the silence.
“Yeah?” I turned, glancing at him. His forehead was creased with a heavy frown. Whatever was worrying him was big, and my heart leapt into my throat.
“About my mum,” he said, staring at his hands.
I waited, not daring to speak lest I break the spell he was under. Was he about to tell me one of the secrets he’d been keeping all this time? Was I about to see parts of Josh Caplin that had been off limits from the start?
“She was murdered,” he said. “I found her.”
His words slammed into me, almost stealing my breath. Of all the things he could’ve said, that was not what I was expecting. Truthfully, I didn’t even know what else he could be keeping from me. The Underground and his flippant attitude toward his health were big enough.
“Fuck,” I murmured. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t be sorry,” he snapped. “Never be sorry.”
I flinched, glancing out the window.
“My dad killed her.”
I froze, my blood turning to ice. “Where is he now?”
“He got what he deserved,” he snarled.
The words spilled forth with such venom I shivered. He got what he deserved. Did that mean he was dead, too? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed justified considering what the man had done.
“I was only nineteen at the time,” Josh said, his voice sounding very thin and far away. “A kid…”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just sat next to him, my hand finding his and squeezing.
He didn’t tell me any more about it. He just sat there in silence, his thoughts taking him away from me. If I’d been smart, I would’ve said something to keep him with me, but I didn’t know the right words.
As a surgeon, I stared death in the face every single day. I diagnosed, administered, operated…but sometimes, it wasn’t enough. The hardest part of my job was walking out of that operating theater and telling people their loved ones didn’t make it. We did everything in our power, but…
Glancing at Josh, I didn’t know what to do. All the training in the world couldn’t help me in this moment. There was no list of symptoms, no diagnosis that could be treated with antibiotics or a scalpel. I couldn’t crack open his chest and install a pin into his heart to hold him together. There wasn’t a prescription in the entire world that I could write to mend a broken heart.
I was powerless to help the man I was falling in love with.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked after a long moment of nothing.
“Of course I do,” I replied.
He smiled weakly, the light never coming back on in his eyes. “I’ll check the locks,” he murmured. “You go ahead. I’ll be there in a sec.”
Knowing he needed a moment alone, I nodded and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
Thank you for telling me.
Thank you for trusting me.
Thank you for staying with me.
I wondered if I should say all those things to him or if he understood when I just said the two little words. Thank you. Deciding that was enough, I left him to his memories and got ready for bed, trusting that giving him his space was the right thing to do.
When he finally came to bed, he slipped in beside me without a word, his arm winding around my waist.
For the first time since we met, we lay together in my bed without having sex. He didn’t move to touch the places he knew would pleasure my body, he just held me close, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. It was an odd sensation, a shift I never expected but understandable considering the night we’d had.
Curling up next to him, I felt like the most selfish person in the entire world. I’d clung onto my own problems and fears like they were the worst things to ever happen to someone. Josh had been holding onto the murder of his mother for eight years, and if what I
suspected was true, he hadn’t told a soul. He was the strong, silent type, and people like that usually tried to deal with things on their own.
For the first time since this thing started between us, I began to understand why he did things, but I also understood that he’d only given me the bare minimum. I knew his game because I did the same thing when he asked about New York. I could see it in his eyes, the hope he’d said just enough to placate me into believing I’d gotten the last piece of his heart.
Unfortunately, love didn’t work like that, and the thought that he didn’t completely trust me hurt. It was a self-centered thought considering what he’d revealed, but I couldn’t help myself. Trust was important to me. Especially after everything Craig had put me through.
I wanted Josh to trust me completely. I needed him to.
Something was still holding him back, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
26
Josh
I needed to fight.
It was as simple as that. I needed the taste of blood, the jarring pain of my fist slamming into flesh, and the sting of a cut lip to make me feel worthwhile.
I needed it because it reminded me I wasn’t strong enough to save my mum. Was it some kind of fucked-up punishment? Maybe it was. I didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t be anything else. This was who I was.
Sparks wanted me, but she didn’t want me to fight.
Sparks wanted a lie.
Sparks wanted a version of me that I could never live up to.
Sparks loved a lie.
I wasn’t worthy. I could never be anything more than I was now. I couldn’t see a way forward because there wasn’t one. This was it.
Rolling over, I untangled myself from her arms and stared out the window at the dawn light as it began to light up the Melbourne skyline. It was that murky half-light that made everything look like it was in some kind of dream world. The veil between night and day.
