by Amity Cross
Holly began to stir behind me, and before she could pull me back against her, I slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom.
“Josh?” she called out sleepily, but I ignored her and turned on the shower.
Stripping out of my boxers, I stepped under the searing water and let it wash away my shame. Watching the water circle down the drain of Holly’s fancy tiled shower, I snorted. If it were only that easy.
I just didn’t belong in a place like this. All this time it felt like I was playing a part. Pretending to be the things she wanted so I could make her happy. How long could that shit go on before she came to her senses? She knew most of it now. When I said ‘most’, I meant everything but the single most important detail of what happened that night.
I stiffened as I felt her slender hands slide up my bare back and then froze completely as her body melded against mine. She was always beautiful, the kind where she didn’t know it and flushed when I stared at her nakedness. She didn’t do that anymore, but the first time I laid her before me and just studied her sweet pussy and her perfect tits, she’d turned scarlet with embarrassment.
Circling my body, she positioned herself in front of me, the water pounding over both of us and soaking her hair until it sat flat against her head and flowed down her back.
It was like she knew I was coming apart and was trying to stick me back together the only way she knew how short of laying me out on an operating table.
She pulled my face toward hers, her fingers hard against my skin. I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t sure I should give it to her when I was considering leaving and never coming back.
Leaning my forehead against hers, I closed my eyes, knowing that if I took her now, it’d bittersweet…and kind of spiteful. One last fuck before breaking her heart.
When her lips touched mine, I shoved away my disappointment and allowed my body to take over. Circling my arms around her waist, I tugged her against my body, my cock hardening against her stomach, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth. I kissed her greedily, the water from the shower mingling with her taste as I pinned her against the tiled wall.
Sparks’s moans were muffled as I tightened my hold on her, my hands moving down her body until I slid my fingers between her legs. Rubbing my palm over her clit, she thrust against me as her hands found my cock and began stroking.
Tearing my lips from hers, I pushed against her palm a few times before lifting her in my arms and anchoring her back against the tiled wall. Her slender legs wrapped tightly around my waist, urging me to take her.
Fisting my cock, I pressed the head against her opening, feeling like a right asshole. Fucking and running.
I hesitated, my thoughts beginning to clear the haze of lust, but Sparks took matters into her own hands.
She slid down my cock until I was buried balls deep, and she squirmed, thrusting her tits against my chest. Grabbing her ass in my hands, I held her in place and pulled out to the tip before thrusting into her as hard as I could. Our skin came together with an intoxicating slap, and her fingernails dug into my back as she cried out her pleasure.
Grunting as my balls flared, I thrust again and again, fucking her hard as water pounded onto my back. I didn’t stop, chasing my release as fast as I could as her teeth grazed my neck and shoulder. Sparks purred in pleasure as she took my pounding, always greedy for a firm touch and the shattering orgasm that followed.
All too soon, I felt her tighten around my cock, and I came, spilling deep inside her until I was empty. As the sensation began to ease, so did the haze, and with it, came the thoughts I didn’t want to think. Too many thoughts that never should have been dragged up again.
As I let Holly slide down my body until her feet touched the tiled floor, I felt the fight bleed out of me. I just…couldn’t.
Fucking her just now…it felt like a goodbye.
Her fingers traced my lips, her eyes full of sadness. She knew what was about to happen. She had to, right?
Pulling away, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. A moment later, the room fell into silence as she shut off the water and emerged beside me. As she wrapped a towel around herself, I avoided her gaze and ventured into the bedroom, searching for my discarded clothes.
I dressed haphazardly, like the thin cotton material of my plain black T-shit was a barrier for all the shame I was currently feeling.
Glancing up as I fastened the button on my jeans, I hesitated as I caught sight of Sparks standing in the bathroom doorway.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I snapped.
Sparks was looking at me like I was damaged. Like I was one of her patients who needed operating on. I had been her patient, but this was something she couldn’t fix.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.
Sitting on the edge of the messy bed, I pulled on my boots as she stood before me still wrapped in her towel. She just wouldn’t let it go.
Everything was fine before I ended up in hospital. I needed the fight, the thrill of drawing blood, the burn of my muscles as I trained. I needed things to go back to how they were. Things were easier then.
“Josh?”
I glanced at Sparks, her red hair flat against her head, water dripping down her skin. She was beautiful…so fucking beautiful.
I didn’t know what else to say, so I just told her what I needed. “I need to fight, Holly.”
“At The Underground?” she asked, her mouth dropping open.
“I have to go back there,” I said. “I don’t know what else I can say.”
“After everything, you still want to go back to the people who left you out on the street to rot?”
“It’s who I am,” I spat, starting to get frustrated at her constant badgering.
“No, it’s not,” she practically screamed at me. “It’s not the Josh I know.”
And there was the problem. She didn’t know the real me even though she’d seen The Underground for herself. She didn’t understand what I needed to keep my head above the putrid water that was life. She just didn’t get it.
“No, you’re right,” I said, my voice tight with restrained emotion. Which one, I wasn’t entirely sure. “You don’t know me at all.”
“Not for lack of trying.” A single tear spilled from her eye and ran down her cheek, but she didn’t move to brush it away.
“You can’t fix me, Holly,” I snapped. “I can’t be operated on like one of your fucking patients.”
I rose to my feet and began pacing. What was I still doing here? I was doing nothing but dragging her down with me. Holly was this bright spark of life, hopeful, optimistic, intelligent, beautiful… I was a dead weight. She couldn’t love a train wreck like me. It was impossible. Something had to be wrong…
I’d been deceiving her from the beginning. I’d held back my darkest moment, and now she was paying for it. She’d fallen for a lie.
“This isn’t working,” I said, the realization hitting me square in the face.
“What?” she asked, her pretty doe eyes widening. “No. Don’t say that.”
“It’s too much.”
“You’re walking away because this is too hard?” she scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious? Life was never meant to be easy.”
I grunted, standing on shaky feet as I scooped up my keys, phone, and wallet.
“So that’s it?” she asked. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“Looks like it,” I muttered, striding out of the bedroom. I was doing her a favor. She deserved better than me. She always had.
“You can’t leave me,” she wailed, darting after me. “Josh, please.”
“We were fooling each other,” I hissed as she grabbed my arm. “This whole thing was—” I bit my lip, turning away from her.
“A mistake?”
My heart twisted. It hadn’t been a mistake. I’d felt things I had never felt before, but it wasn’t right.
Wrenching the door open, I said, ”Goodbye, Ho
lly.”
“Josh, please…”
I couldn’t stay and listen to her pleading.
I slammed the door behind me and walked away.
It’d hurt like hell now, but in time she’d see.
I’d done her a favor.
27
Holly
Nothing.
I couldn’t feel anything because if I let it in, I wouldn’t be able to move. I wouldn’t be able to function as a human being anymore. He was gone, and that was it.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
I’d been heartbroken in the wake of Craig’s betrayal, but the gaping void Josh’s absence opened in my heart eclipsed anything I’d ever felt before. The moment he slammed the door in my face, I’d fallen to the floor and sobbed.
He was so hell-bent on self–destruction, and there was nothing I could do to convince him otherwise.
Standing in the middle of the ICU, I stared blankly as a patient was wheeled out of surgery and into a room, nurses rushing to assist in hooking up a plethora of machines. A ventilator was being connected to the bedside monitor, and I suddenly had a vision of Josh the day after I’d found him outside the ER. His face had been so bruised and swollen I could hardly make out his features. His outcome had been excellent, which was brilliant and all, but the memory only served to drive another barb into my heart.
“Dr. Walsh?”
I glanced up at Harper, who was assisting me in the surgery I was about to walk into.
“Ready to go?” I asked him, and when he nodded, I ushered him toward the operating theaters where our patient was being prepped by the anesthesiologist.
Just as I was about to walk through the double doors, I hesitated. Something felt unfinished, and I suspected it had everything to do with Josh. So in a moment of desperation, I texted him.
Whatever’s happening, I can help you. Trust me. Please. I love you, Josh.
He never replied, and when I came out of surgery, there was still nothing.
I jumped about a mile when my phone went off, my heart leaping so violently I thought I might need to call a code blue, but it was only a page from Nurse Judy.
“Shit,” I cursed. Mr. Simons was back.
I had some time, so I went up to the wards and found his room, wondering if the double hip replacement I’d done on him was the culprit. I hoped not because we’d made a deal never to see one another again. If he wasn’t in the hospital, then he was in good health, which was the way we both liked it.
Though, as far as patients went, Mr. Simons was one of the best. Nothing seemed to bother him, and he was full of enough dirty jokes to last an entire lifetime. After a tough day, his comic relief was always welcome.
“Mr. Simons,” I declared, coming to a halt beside his bed. He was looking very tired, his skin sallow, and his eyes a little more watery than usual, but the cheeky spark was still there.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite doctor,” he said, his voice sounding very thin.
Reaching for his chart, I slipped it off the hook and flipped it open, scanning the notes that had been scrawled there on his admittance.
“What brings you back to us?” I asked. “I thought we had a deal.”
“My ass is just fine,” he replied.
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
“It’s my ticker, they said,” he went on, thumping his gnarled fist against his heart.
Scanning the rest of his chart, I found he was right. Mr. Simons had suffered a mild heart attack, which wasn’t uncommon in men his age but was a little worrying for someone as active as he was.
“The cows giving you a hard time?” I asked, knowing he responded well to humor rather than medical mumbo jumbo.
He laughed. “And that’s why I like you, lass.”
Leaning close, I whispered, “Lucky for everyone I don’t specialize in cardio.”
“Unlucky for me if you really want to know, lass. I’d trust you with my heart.”
“Damn, you’re a smooth operator.” I laughed—a genuine laugh—and I was glad to see Mr. Simons, but it was unfortunate it had to be in the circumstance it was.
“How did things go with that young buck?” he asked, and I hesitated, surprised he even remembered the talk we’d had about Josh. It was so long ago, and so much had changed.
“C’mon,” he prodded. “You know I like a good story, Red. Give an old man with a dicky ticker a little something to hold onto.”
I sighed dramatically, milking the moment for his benefit. “You’re a pro at the puppy dog eyes, you know that?”
He laughed again and nudged me with his hand. “So?”
I shook my head.
His watery eyes widened. “No?”
“He left me. This morning actually.”
“Bugger,” Mr. Simons exclaimed. “What a fool. Giving up a hotshot doctor like you.”
I shrugged. “I can’t make him do anything.”
“You fell in love with him?”
Mr. Simons stared up at me with hope in his eyes. I desperately wanted mine and Josh’s story to end up like his had all those years ago. I’d wanted forever with Josh—until we were old and gray, and our bones were brittle—but in the end, he hadn’t wanted me the same way. Just like Craig…but this felt a million times worse. I’d thought I loved him, but I’d only been settling. In comparison to the way I felt about Josh, he’d been nothing.
Josh had claimed everything, including my soul. I wasn’t sure how I could go on after that knowing it was one-sided.
Mr. Simons smiled and patted my hand that had tightened around the edge of his bed, my knuckles white.
“If you feel that deeply, then there’s still hope,” he said kindly. “Feelings so profound are rarely unrequited.”
“Are you sure you’re a farmer?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Because you sound like the Dalai Lama.”
“I’m just an old bastard who’s been around a long time, lass. I’ve learned a few lessons in being an asshole, let me tell you.” Mr. Simons’s swearing never shocked me anymore. It was part of his charm.
“You think I shouldn’t give up?” I asked uncertainly.
“I think you should go and box his ears to begin with,” he declared, waving his fists in the air like a boxer. “Then do a little fighting of your own. Tell him how you feel. The L word seems to snap the young ones into reality.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, my heart beginning to ache. “It’s still a little fresh.”
“Don’t give up, Red,” he replied. “Your story hasn’t finished yet.”
As I left Mr. Simons’s room so he could get his rest, I thought about everything he’d said. It rolled around in my mind and heart like a tumble dryer of anguish.
Your story hasn’t finished yet.
The moment Josh slammed the door behind him seemed like a very big the end to me. If there were hope that I could bring him back to me, I couldn’t see it.
All I had left was the hospital, so I slunk into the on-call room to catch a few hours’ sleep, old habits coming back as easy as pie.
I’d throw myself back into my work. Yeah, that sounded like a real good idea.
Day two without Josh Caplin was harder than day one.
He got what he deserved.
The way Josh had said it still haunted me. The words rolled off his tongue with a venom I’d never heard from him before.
He got what he deserved.
It raised a suspicion I didn’t want to believe, but I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion—was Josh the one to dish out justice for his mother?
Glancing up and down the car park, I was alone in the near darkness, the lights of the deserted hospital entrance lighting the scene from behind. Hardly anyone other than staff came out this way as it was a hell of a long walk to anywhere that meant anything to the general public.
Leaning back against the wall, I cursed. The taxi was late.
Since it was Friday night, I wond
ered how long I’d be waiting. The dispatcher said fifteen minutes, but it was looking more like thirty. They were probably jammed with jobs. Great. I was obliterated and just wanted to go home.
Glancing toward the Brunswick Street exit, I began to contemplate getting a tram. It’d take longer to get home, but I’d probably get there at the same time considering the waiting I was currently doing. I didn’t really want to rub shoulders with anyone, but the urge to be behind closed doors and wallow was far greater.
A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and I jumped a mile. Wrenching away, I turned to find Archer standing behind me, a stupid smirk on his face,
“Hey,” he said.
“Shit, Archer,” I cursed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “You okay? You were looking down today.”
My skin bristled, and I shook my head. “I’m not in the mood right now.”
He tilted his head to the side. “That guy break up with you or something?”
I shook my head, not wanting to talk to him about it.
“He wasn’t into romance?”
“I’m not really a hearts and flowers kind of woman, Archer,” I said thinly, trying to find a way out of the conversation so I could leg it to the tram.
“So you didn’t like the flowers I sent you, then?”
I hesitated, alarm bells beginning to ring in my head. Archer had been responsible all this time, and he’d said nothing? Something wasn’t right…
“What flowers?”
“The lilies, Hol. Don’t tell me I chose wrong.”
“Those were from you?” I asked, carefully edging away.
“Pure lilies for a pure woman.” Archer shook his head. “I don’t know what you see in the guy, Hol. He’s nothing.”
“And you’re everything?”
A sly smile pulled at his lips, and I was suddenly very aware that we were standing in a secluded, dark, and very empty part of the car park. A tingle went down my spine as my gaze darted around, looking for an escape route.
All those creepy notes were from Archer. Belief, love, confidence… He was trying to tell me he objectified me? That he wanted me to be his? Then why didn’t he just ask me out like a normal person? Unless…
