by Ostrow, Lexi
“Except for every other person who’s passed through a foster system that has grown up swearing to fix it. The only thing Cassandra Marks has on most of them is the dedication and intelligence to actually put a plan into motion.”
“Watch yourself. You’re dangerously close to being reminded that even as a human, I still know more about battle than you ever will.”
“Skipping down to six. Her laughter inspires others to laugh and will come in handy when children have given up hope.” He sputtered. “You have to know these sound like shit.”
Again, tension rocked through Gabe’s body. Instead of acting on it, he allowed himself the pleasure of picturing the cracking sound that Carlyle would make if thrown head first into a wall. It wasn’t mildly calming, but the idea of protecting Cassandra made him feel much better.
“Let’s move on.” Carlyle looked back at the notebook page paper. “Number thirteen, because of the joy she brings to kids. Again, many people can do this. The point is to find reasons why she alone can do her work and needs to be saved to succeed.”
“Enough with the damn list!” Roaring, he snatched the paper away and tore it into tiny strips, furious that it wouldn’t help. “Cassandra Marks has a soul unlike any I’ve ever met—human or angel. Her smile is enough to light up an entire room when she is not too tired to give one. Her heart continually seeks to help others—just the other day we went to a soup kitchen even though being so close to anyone of the homeless that carried any sort of sickness could have killed her.” He took a step closer to Carlyle, fury boiling in his blood. “Her kindness knows no limits. Yes, she has moments of insecurity and even infantile whining, but she has used plenty of days this week to volunteer in the children’s ward at the hospital. She stayed so long she nearly collapsed from fatigue.”
Carlyle’s lips pulled up into a mischievous smirk. “Are you certain you haven’t spent the past month finding reasons why you love her and want her saved?”
“Fuck you. Her life matters more than my insignificant feelings for her.”
His mentor shrugged. “Your list is good—but it sounds to me like you’ve found all the reasons you love her. Not the reasons she deserves to live and continue her work.”
Gabe opened his mouth and paused. His mind reeled as it went through countless memories from the past weeks. Over and over he heard conversations between them where he asked about her work, but he’d never asked if she thought anyone else could do it.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me the one thing I need to ask to save her life.” He grabbed his phone off the coffee table a few inches away and punched her name on recent contacts—even though she was actually his only contact. “Cassandra?” He barked her name when she answered.
“Everything okay? I know we had a bit of fight, but you sound angry.”
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed, trying to force off some of his frustration. “I was speaking with a colleague just now, and the subject of life came up. Do you mind if I ask you something that might be a little sensitive?”
“Just the other day you were barking orders at me, and now you’re asking—this must be difficult.” She was quiet, but he heard shifting sounds as if she were throwing off a blanket and sitting up. “Go ahead.”
“If you were to die,” saying the words caused a burn in his throat. “If you were to die, would your work be able to continue?”
“Of course.”
The phone dropped from his hand, crashing onto his foot. He spiraled, dropped into a black hole, even though he stood perfectly still as her short sentence echoing in her mind. She believed her work could continue if she passed away.
“There’s no shot -” The word scratched out as if his mouth had been deprived of liquid.
Carlyle scooped up his phone. “Hello, I’m a friend. Gabe’s going to want to see you tonight. He’ll pick you up in his car around eight thirty if that’s all right.”
Gabe couldn’t hear her response. He’d scarcely heard Carlyle’s words.
“Do you see why you’ve set yourself up for a difficult task?” Carlyle passed him the phone and patted him on the shoulder. “The council doesn’t make decisions lightly. They saw what she was and what she could become.”
“They knew even before I requested to come.” Disbelief still left his words barely above a whisper. “I don’t care.” His teeth ground together and his attention on Carlyle. “Do you hear me? I choose when I go before the council, and I’m not going anywhere until I find out what sets her apart because I know it’s there.”
Carlyle’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head. “I wish you the best in that. I had hoped you’d get your battle wings back and leave me alone, but I’m sorry to see you’ll choose to fall for a mortal with a shortened life.”
His foot collided with the underside of the other angel’s chin, knocking him up and back. Carlyle crashed into the couch and shifted it slightly across the floor. Gabe knew the burn in his meant they glowed. Human or not, power coursed through him. He stalked over to his mentor and gripped him by the shirt collar.
“Get out of here,” he spat, enjoying the slight hint of unease in Carlyle’s eyes. “Don’t ever come back. When it is my turn to go before the council, make certain another angel comes for me. I promise you, when I have my wings back for long enough to plea for her life, if I see you again, I will end you.”
His chest heaved as the fury washed through him like an angry volcanic explosion. He didn’t loosen his grip, but Carlyle vanished anyway. All that remained of their encounter were the skid marks now in the wooden floor from when Gabe had sucker punched him into the couch.
The room spun again, Cassandra’s sentence threating to be his only thought.
“I will save her.” Closing his eyes he sucked in a breath, trying to focus on the warmth of her smile to calm him.
Twenty-One
Yawning, Cassandra was pleased the tiredness came from a typical level of exhaustion and not more stupid cancer shit slowing her down. Because being slowed down is so much worse than the yellowing, scaly skin or the vomiting.
The sardonic thought had bounced around in her head for a few weeks—along with many other selfish complaints. It hadn’t been until she’d seen Gabe with the child at the supermarket of all places she’d realized how much she missed her work. Getting back to her roots had been tiring, but it helped her shed some of the anger cancer brought to her life.
“Gabe isn’t wrong though.” She smirked. “Never tell a man he’s right.” Chuckling, she rolled her neck to ease some of the tension. “Now, dinner.” Her stomach hadn’t growled, but she’d learned to eat at steady intervals to avoid any complications.
Setting her book to the side, she untucked her legs and stood from the couch. A touch of wetness touched her lips as she rose.
“What in the heck?” She brought her fingers just under her nose and pulled her hand back. A vicious red streak marred her complexion. “No.” Tearing down the short space to the kitchen she dashed into the bathroom and stared into the mirror.
Even without the light on, she could see the blood dripping down her face, casually slipping down to the counter.
“Shit.” Reacting, she yanked toilet paper off the roll and stuffed it against her nose. Leaning her head back just a bit she ignored the coppery taste as some blood slid down her throat. The toilet paper quickly grew wet against her fingers, and she reached for more.
Call the doctor. She couldn’t remember if she’d imagined it or not, but she was fairly certain a nosebleed did not mean the best thing. Just stop bleeding. With a snarl at herself, Cassandra realized she had no control over the situation.
Head still titled she did her best to lumber from the bathroom. She needed to get ahold of Doctor Dresdell. “Damn it, this is insane.” Pinching the paper against her nose, she let her head fall forward to a normal position and walked to grab her phone.
The ringing seemed to go on forever, the irr
itating tone chiming over and over. “Damn it, the time.” Letting go of the paper against her nose, she ignored the splash of red as it sunk to the floor while she dialed Doctor Dresdell’s cell.
Judy answered on the second ring, concern sounding loud through the phone. “Cassandra, is everything all right?”
“My nose is bleeding.”
“You didn’t have a session today, correct?”
Forcing back a gag as a trickle of blood slipped over her lips she shook her head.
“Cassandra?”
“Sorry, no. Not in a few days.”
“I’m glad you called. This isn’t anything to panic over, but I’d like you to come in now for a few tests. I prefer to be safe than sorry where my patients are concerned.”
The room tipped on its axis, and Cassandra lost her balance. It should have hurt when her butt connected with the hardwood floor, but she didn’t notice. The room continued to spin, but Cassandra quickly sensed nothing but a blackness causing her vision to tunnel.
“Cassandra!”
The sharp snapped pulled her from the nothingness she almost slipped into.
“What could it mean?”
“A lot of things—and a lot of nothing. I don’t want you to worry, panic won’t help you get here safely. I’m going to head in myself, but you live closer and will likely be there first. Please go to the Emergency Room, they will get you sorted.”
“Okay.” The hollow whispered word was all she could force herself to say. The click on the other end was the only reason she knew the call was over. The phone slipped from her grasp and thunked to the floor by her knees. “She said it might be nothing.” Her gaze unfocused, leaving her staring across the studio apartment but seeing nothing. A faint buzzing rang in her ear. It wasn’t a call to be answered, merely the emptiness of worry whispering to her.
Time passed, and still, she sat, legs sprawled out underneath her. The blare from her cell phone was audible, but she didn’t care.
It’s not even been two months. How can I possibly have something that requires further scans?
Again, the ring from her phone went off in the small space. Again, Cassandra ignored it, staring at a blur of space as her mind raced. The chime from a nearby church sounded, signifying either the top or bottom of the hour—she had no way of knowing.
Stop this. Move and get going. The firm words sounded great in her head but did nothing to spur her to move. For the third time, the phone went off and, tired of the ringing, she inched her fingers across the floor to grab it.
“Hello?”
“Are you all right?” Doctor Dresdell’s voice was far too loud.
“I’m sorry. I got lost in . . . well I got lost. I know you came in after your day was over. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I was concerned you’d had a problem on your way over. Do you need a ride? I promise you, I’ve picked up patients before.”
“No. Thank you. I have someone I can call.”
“Okay. I will see you shortly.”
“Sorry.” She hung the phone up.
Gabe or Diana? Diana had been driven her to sessions and was the logical choice. Cassandra didn’t want logical, she wanted to be calm and protected. She wiped at her nose, surprised to find no fresh blood lingering. Rubbing it off onto her jeans, she focused on Gabe’s face, on his words that he was going to fight with her.
Time to move our relationship along a crazy amount faster than under normal circumstances. Dialing his number, she found herself staring off into space while she waited.
“Hello there, beautiful.”
His playful tone merely made her feel sick to be dropping this on him. “Gabe, I need help.”
The shift in his mood was apparent even without being able to see the steely gaze she knew would be in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing for sure. I got a nosebleed about,” she pulled the phone away and looked at the clock, letting out a curse. “Shit. About an hour ago. It’s stopped now, but my doctor wants me to come in for some scans, just to make certain it’s not a symptom of, well, she didn’t say of what. I know I’ve kept you at a distance where this is concerned–”
“I’ll be there in fifteen. I don’t care if I have to monster truck drive over the top of half the cars on the road.”
A smile spread over her lips. “Thank you.” She’d done her best to keep from sucking her into the actual drama of dating someone with cancer, but if the people in her group were correct, she would need his strength as much as her own to remain calm.
“Always. Don’t come down. I’ll run up when I get there. Dress warm, it’s snowing.”
Her gaze glanced over at the window, and she was surprised to see thick chunks of snow falling down. She’d been so lost in a pit of nothingness she hadn’t realized the sun had set either.
“I won’t, and I will.”
He cut the call.
For the first time since the diagnosis, worry overwhelmed her hope. For a month she’d trusted the chemo was working. Trusted that each blood draws to test her liver handling the treatment coming back positive meant she was getting better. Yes, she tired quickly, but aside from that and the sickly appearance of her hands, the chemo hadn’t torn her down. She had her hair—even though Shay had recommended shaving it before her third session to prevent from seeing it fall out. Every single sign had made Cassandra feel like she was going to beat this.
Until now.
* * *
“It’s okay,” Gabe squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. “A long wait doesn’t necessarily mean anything is wrong. In fact, maybe it means everything is fine, and they are prioritizing people that are in more medical trouble.”
Though his words remained optimistic, the scowl on his lips told a different story.
“I just don’t want to sit in this stupid bed any longer.” She tugged at the IV. “I hated being hooked up to these damn things even before the chemo treatments. They itch, and they make me feel trapped.” You are trapped. You can’t go anywhere, not even to the bathroom, because what if they come back with the results?
Gabe squeezed her hand again but didn’t speak. He leaned back a bit in the chair next to the bed, and she watched as his shoulders rose and fell with an inaudible sigh. He’d been sitting beside her ever since she’d been brought back in a wheelchair almost an hour ago. Though it had been romantic, she’d insisted he not watch as they’d drawn blood and put her body through a CT Scan. Surprisingly, he’d agreed and sat in the room she was assigned.
“Gabe?”
“Hmm?” He looked at her, his eyes swirling with their beautiful golden strands.
“Have I said thank you?”
A smile quirked on his lips. “Only fourteen times since we got to the hospital.”
“Oh.” Chuckling, a tendril of stress unwrapped it's suctioned tentacle from her body. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you called me. I think I’d rather sit here with you than find out tomorrow you did this alone.”
She smiled at him but didn’t get to say anything because a knock on the door signaled news. Leaning to the side, Cassandra saw Judy through the window. Just like at her apartment, time seemed to stop, leaving her in a blanket of numbness.
“Gabe I presume?” Judy extended her hand when she got closer.
“Pleasure to meet you, thank you for coming in for her tonight.”
Judy smiled. “Thank you for taking care of her too. Cancer is a vicious fight and having someone in your corner truly helps.”
“She fought me on it, but I’m happy to be here.”
Cassandra flushed, shocked at the way they spoke as if she wasn’t just a few feet away.
“Now,” Judy turned to her, a blank look on her face. “I am sorry to tell you that I don’t have amazing news.”
Her gasp stuck in her throat, and she squeezed Gabe’s hand as panic raced through her body like fire. It took everything she had to focus on breathing and listening.
“H
ow do I keep fighting?”
“Your cancer is spreading. I had hoped that we would be able to destroy it without surgery—now I’m not so certain. Your cancer has metastasized, spreading to a larger portion of your breast tissue and looks to be in danger of what we call, jumping, to another organ.”
“I’m here,” Gabe spoke loudly from beside her, rubbing her hand. “Just keep breathing, Cassandra.”
Her head could have been as heavy as a boulder with the way it seemed to require extra strength to nod. “I’ll do it.”
“Hang on. I’m proud of your dedication, many women aren’t as quick to accept losing that part of themselves.”
“I’d rather that than die.” Her tongue may as well as have swollen with how difficult she found it to say the words. It had always been in the back of her mind that she might have to have surgery.
“That’s what I want to hear. However, there’s something else we’re going to try first. It’s a drug we’ll be adding to your cancer treatments—in addition to moving them to weekly for the next to rounds. It’s a newer drug called Herceptin. It functions to attract immune cells that will work to eliminate the cancer cells. It has a very high success rate of slowing the cancer down.”
“Will I get sick?”
“It will be much of the same. Vomiting, which we will try to control with the steroids. Weight loss—though you’ve done well keeping your weight up with the meal replacements you’ve been drinking in addition to meals. There’s also a good chance you’ll have trouble sleeping if you already weren’t.”
It sounded identical to everything she’d been told and was already experiencing. “Why would this work when the other isn’t?”
“There’s a lot of really technical medical jargon and chemical explanations. The best answer is it’s a newer treatment, and your current one was geared to kill the cancer that was present, not stop it from growing. I know they sound similar, but where treatment is concerned, they aren’t.”
Someone may as well have wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed with how difficult breathing became. “So we haven’t been treating the cancer to go away?”
