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Ride: Maelíosa and Sage: Episodes 9-12 (Puca Mates Collection Book 3)

Page 5

by A. C. James


  “How are you feeling today?”

  Sage shrugged. Like shit. But a glance at Carina told him that she was watching and listening to everything, despite appearing focused on her game, so he couldn’t say it out loud.

  “I feel fine,” Sage lied. “This is the last treatment?”

  “Correct.” The nurse smiled at him perfunctorily. “I’m going to plug in the IV now, okay?” Sage watched as she took the bag of saline down and replaced it with the chemotherapy pump. “You’ve got about four hours, then you’re free to go. How does that sound?” She glanced down at the chart. “And this is your last treatment. You didn’t mention it. How do you feel?”

  Like I’ll be dead before morning.

  Sage scowled. “As good as can be expected.”

  The nurse buzzed around him, oblivious to his mood. Or maybe she’d worked the cancer ward for so long she’d become immune to the patients’ dispositions. A familiar coldness pumped into his veins, filling him with dread. The pain from the cancer was bad, but the chemo was almost worse. It was a never-ending cycle of pain and anxiety. Chemo left a disgusting taste in Sage’s mouth, and his hair had begun to fall out in clumps. Luckily he was used to keeping it so short it barely mattered. But it was demoralizing all the same. He sighed. He knew this wasn’t his last treatment because he was beating the cancer—it was his last treatment because the doctors had decided it wasn’t improving his quality of life. He’d grown to fucking hate that phrase. Sage didn’t want to finish today, despite how bad the treatments made him feel. Something about the word ‘last’ seemed final, in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Last was not a word he wanted anywhere in his life.

  “Ta!” The nurse chirped as she left the room.

  Carina looked up from her game with wide eyes. “Dad, are you in pain?”

  Sage shrugged. “Not really.”

  Carina frowned. “Really?” She tilted her head to the side, letting her hair spill over her shoulder.

  Sage relented, letting a hint of a sad smile creep onto his face. “Okay, a little. But you know your dad.” He flexed his free arm. “I’m tough.”

  “You are. You’re stronger than I could ever be. My dad, the big tough Navy SEAL,” she said with an answering smile.

  “Former SEAL,” Sage said, correcting his daughter.

  He winked at her and they both burst out laughing. It was a reminder of the old days, before the cancer. Carina had attended daycare before and after school, and one day Sage found out she’d been bragging about his career. He’d been a little upset with her at first—talking big wasn’t the kind of thing he ever wanted his daughter to do. But when he found out that it was because kids were making fun of her for not having a mother, he was proud she’d been able to hold her own and talk about how cool her dad was. And although Sage wouldn’t have admitted it, he knew it was the ultimate compliment. Carina thought he walked on water. Of course, he never would have done anything to dissuade her from that notion.

  Carina leaned in close. “Dad? Are you okay? Want me to read to you for a while?” Without waiting for an answer, she dug through her bag and pulled out a few different books. “I think you might like this one,” she said, pointing to one paperback.

  “No thanks, honey,” he said quietly. “I think I’m just going to rest for a little while if that’s alright with you. Why not sit back and play your game?”

  Carina nodded. “Sure, Dad.”

  Again, Sage got the sense she was just trying to please him, to stay calm so he wouldn’t worry about her. She was so mature for her age.

  Sage blinked. There was a funny feeling in his eyes, a kind of stinging, prickling warmth. Am I crying? I can’t cry, for fuck’s sake! Not in front of her. He swallowed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, noting thankfully that her attention had shifted back toward her game. He blinked before settling his gaze on a point across the room. It was a technique he’d learned years ago with the Navy SEALs. Just focus on this until I calm down. Just breathe. In and out.

  He couldn’t stand staring at the wall, and turned back to Carina after just a few seconds. Her eyes were closed and her hands were still in her lap, clutching her DS. A faint, tinny sound was coming from her game, and Sage felt another stab of pain as he imagined what would happen to his daughter when he was no longer around. Who would buy her new games? Who would talk to her? Who would teach her how to cook, and how to grow up? Who would be at the door when she went on her first date?

  Not her mother, that’s for damn sure. Sage’s mouth twisted into a scowl. He glanced at the full bag of chemo dripping into his veins and wished more than anything that he wasn’t dying of cancer. Chemo wasn’t a battle, it was a last-ditch effort. Yelling at God might have better odds than the incredibly narrow ones of his surviving. It was like his trip to the Aran Islands...a desperate soul filling out a mating application to find someone to care for his daughter. He closed his eyes and flashed back to the interview with Maelíosa. She’d asked about his family, and he hadn’t exactly told the truth.

  Carina’s mother, Angela, was probably not dead. ‘Probably’ being the key word. They’d met one reckless night when he was on leave, in a Navy bar in downtown Jacksonville. Angela was beautiful, or at least Sage had thought so after having ten beers. They’d gone home together and had sex—just the once. When Angela found out she was pregnant, she contacted Sage. She’d told him that she wanted to have an abortion.

  Sage remembered the day like it was yesterday.

  Sage lowered himself into the wicker chair at the sidewalk café. His muscular frame threatened to send the whole thing tumbling to the ground in a heap of cushion and splinters, but miraculously the chair held. When Angela sat down across from him, Sage wondered what he’d seen in her. In the daylight, she wasn’t beautiful. Her face had a cruel, twisted smirk, and her eyes had dark bags under them, probably from another vicious hangover. What did she care? It didn’t matter if she took care of herself...not when she wanted to get rid of the baby.

  “How are you?”

  Angela crossed her arms. “Let’s skip the small talk. Sage, I wanna get rid of this thing.” She gestured to her stomach. “I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I’ve never wanted children.”

  Sage frowned. He’d never thought about being a father, either. Hell, he’d never even thought about having a family. But now, knowing that he had a chance... It changed something. He supposed most men would feel trapped, and would be relieved if a woman decided not to put him through hell after a stupid one-night stand. He could get blown up tomorrow with his job. Sage hadn’t wanted to saddle himself with a wife and child to leave behind, but now that there was the remote possibility he discovered a part of him regretted that decision. He wanted to scream ‘don’t even fucking dare’ and threaten her not to harm the child, but he figured keeping cool would go over a lot better.

  “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but I think we owe it to ourselves to give it a chance.” Sage leaned across the table and gently pulled the lit cigarette out of Angela’s hand and butted it out in an ashtray.

  Angela arched an eyebrow. “You mean as a couple? We barely know one another.”

  “I’m not really in a place to settle down right now.” He raked a hand through his close-cropped hair, rubbing his scalp with big fingers.

  Sage had joined the Navy when he was eighteen, fresh out of high school and feeling directionless. He’d grown up in foster care, and there was no money for college. Plus, Sage hated feeling dependent on anyone for anything. The Navy had agreed with him. He liked that there was no room for hypocrisy, that everything was black and white. And he was good at it: he rose through the ranks more quickly than he’d expected. When he was asked to join the SEALs program, he agreed immediately without even thinking about the consequences.

  “Do you have a job?” Sage asked.

  After a tense moment, Angela shook her head.

  Sage swallowed. “Okay. I’ll set you up in an apartment, okay? I’m s
till living on a ship, I’ve got a few more years of active duty. But I’ll take care of you, and I’ll send you money for the baby and visit when I can.”

  Her jaw gaped open. “You’d do that?”

  Sage nodded. “For my child, but I can’t promise you a relationship. I am willing to try.”

  And if you ever misbehave before or after the kid is born, I’ll call the cops so fast it’ll make your head spin, he thought, but he kept that last part to himself.

  “I’m not gonna be a good mother,” she said defensively. “Why not just give me the money for an abortion? It’ll be easier.”

  If she hadn’t been carrying his child, Sage would’ve wanted to strangle her. As the months passed, he kept a close eye on Angela. He’d have someone check in on her when he was deployed. She behaved well enough, but Sage always had the sinking feeling that as soon as their child was born, something would go wrong.

  When Sage first laid eyes on Carina, he knew that his life would never be the same. She was a tiny, mewling bundle of pink, but he loved her instantly. She was so small that he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. It engulfed him more powerfully than anything else he’d experienced. His deployment was over, and he’d moved in with Angela. He tried to make a go of it with her.

  Angela went back to her deadbeat ways almost immediately after giving birth. Sage wanted to make it work, but his girlfriend never wanted any of it. Maybe it was his own damn fault; she’d told him as much from the beginning, and he’d forced it. So it was no surprise when Carina was two and Angela left for work at the nail salon and never came home.

  “It’s gonna be just the two of us, baby girl.” Sage said as he tucked Carina into bed that evening. She looked up at him with big, round eyes.

  “Daddy,” Carina said. “I love you.”

  Sage closed his eyes and hugged his daughter tightly. He had no way of knowing what would happen in the future—it was tough for single parents in the Navy, but with Carina by his side, he could get through anything. Sage hated the idea of leaving his daughter for months or years at a time. He made arrangements for her care with the wife of his closest Navy buddy, and hoped for the best. Blessedly, during her youth his deployments were brief. When Carina turned seven, Sage was able to go on reserve duty for the rest of his enlisted time. He’d thought that from that point on, everything would be smooth sailing. And then, when she was eight, Sage had been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

  A noise in the hallway jolted Sage out of his memories, and he opened his eyes, looking around the hospital room. Carina was still napping placidly next to him. He reached out and put a hand on her warm head, savoring the silky feel of her hair. She was such a good kid. Sage was just glad that she resembled him in every aspect, rather than Angela.

  Carina still didn’t know what had happened to her mother. Sage had tried to fill in the details as broadly as he could, but he knew there would come a day when he’d have to confess everything: Angela’s drinking, her habits with pills, the fact that she’d liked to stay out all night and party while he was at home with their daughter. But for now, he wanted to protect Carina for as long as he could. He wanted to keep her safe, warm, and happy. Carina was only nine, but soon enough she’d hit puberty, and then Sage knew she’d want to know all about her past. Puberty. The very word filled Sage with a dread worse than facing the toughest of SEAL assignments. He had no idea how to cope with a girl on the edge of womanhood. He’d grown up without sisters, in a foster family with elderly caretakers.

  The nurse strode into the room loudly. “I’m going to switch your bag now.” Sage held up a finger to his mouth and pointed at Carina, but it was too late—his daughter was waking up and gently rubbing at her eyes.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Carina said. Her cheeks pinked and she sat up straight.

  “That’s all right, Car,” he said, mustering a smile.

  She squinted and yawned, leaning back in the seat and blinking.

  “Don’t do that. Yawning is contagious.” He forced himself to grin and wink at her.

  Carina laughed. “You seem like you’re feeling better.”

  “I feel fine. How about you?”

  “I had a weird dream...” Carina frowned. “Hey, Dad, look, your phone’s blinking.” She reached for Sage’s phone on the nightstand and passed it over.

  He had a missed call from a number he didn’t recognize...in the Aran Islands. And there was a voicemail. The tears he’d worked so hard to push away came rushing back to his eyes. Sage held the phone up to his ear and pressed ‘play.’

  “Hi, I’m calling for Sage Petterson.” Sage’s eyes bulged. He recognized the voice immediately—the sexy woman, Maelíosa, who’d been working at The Stables. Instantly, an image of her dark hair and sparkling eyes flooded his mind. He wondered what kind of man she was involved with. Not anyone like him, that was for sure. Not anyone dying of cancer.

  “Dad, who is it?” Carina leaned forward in the chair and glanced up at him expectantly.

  Sage held up a finger to his mouth. The message continued: “I have a proposition for you, but you’ll have to come back here in order to discuss it. If that works for you, please call me back.”

  That was it. Sage pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen. Was this really going to happen? Had they found a mate for him? And how was Carina going to take it? He’d loved hearing Maelíosa’s sexy voice on his phone, but now that it was actually happening it made his palms sweat. Hell, he’d never even heard of a púca until that book, They Live Among Us. He’d caught Carina reading it at night under the covers, and he’d wanted to confiscate it because it didn’t seem appropriate for a nine-year-old. But Carina had earnestly told him that there was nothing raunchy about it. When she’d gone to school, he’d picked up the book and read it cover to cover. Sure, it was written in the style of British tabloids. But Sage had found himself intrigued, and he felt more sympathetic to the people whose lives were exposed than he would have expected. He’d begun doing some research on his own, and that’s when he’d learned about The Stables.

  “Dad, what’s going on?”

  “We’re going back to the Aran Islands, honey,” Sage said slowly. “Is that okay with you?”

  Carina barreled into Sage’s chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. It hurt, and he could barely breathe, but all of his anxiety from the moment before vanished as soon as his daughter was in his arms. Everything is going to be okay. There’s hope! I don’t have to leave Carina. Everything that Sage had gone through—the horrible rounds of chemo, all the travel, the anxiety, the heartache—suddenly, it all seemed worth it. Sage didn’t give a shit about anything else now that there was a chance for his survival.

  “Dad, are you sure about this?”

  “Honey, I’ve never been surer about anything in my life,” Sage said.

  He wasn’t; it was a crap shoot, but at least it was something to get excited about. He couldn’t wait to hear what Maelíosa had to say. What was she going to tell him? Had she found a mate? They wouldn’t make me go all the way out there again just to tell me no. At least, I hope not. The wait was over. Maelíosa must have pulled some strings to move him up the list.

  “I’m happy for you, Dad,” Carina said. She grinned from ear to ear, flopping back down into her chair. “I can’t believe it. That didn’t take a year at all.”

  Sage shook his head and let out a chuckle. “No, it certainly didn’t.” He looked very seriously at Carina. “Now, honey, don’t get your hopes up too much. I don’t know why they’re calling us back. All I know is that I have to go back and talk to that woman again.”

  Carina raised her eyebrows. “She was pretty. Do you like her?”

  Sage snorted. “Does it matter? She’s helping us out, and that’s all I care about.”

  And she’s damn gorgeous, too. That doesn’t hurt.

  “I’m glad, Dad. I’m glad things are going to be okay.”

  Chapter Ten

  “And pl
ease welcome Nathan Wood, author of They Live Among Us!”

  Nathan stepped out onto the small platform with a weary smile on his face. He hated book signings anymore. Thankfully this was the last one he’d have to do for this book. He couldn’t wait to go home and curl up on the couch with a glass of sherry. But that wouldn’t be for at least two more hours.

  “Nathan, hi!” The owner of the bookshop was someone Nathan had noticed before, a pretty, curvy woman in her early thirties. Nathan hated to admit it, but she reminded him a little of Cyn. That alone made him want to avoid her.

  He smiled politely as he lowered himself into the folding chair with a grunt. “Hi, Suzanne.”

  Annoyingly, she didn’t go away even after he’d seated himself.

  “How are you?” Suzanne leaned over the table, pressing her arms together to make her already-generous cleavage look even saucier. “Say, feel like a trip to the pub after this?”

  A trip to the pub did sound good, but Nathan wasn’t in the mood to socialise. He wanted to go home and wallow in whiskey and self-pity. Even though he’d enjoyed the success that They Live Among Us had brought him at first, it had gotten old and stale months ago.

  “Maybe,” Nathan said with a noncommittal shrug. “I’ll find you later, Suzanne.”

  He nodded, hoping to dismiss her. Instead, she sat down on the graduated steps of the floor, beaming up at him with adoration. It was almost funny, when he thought about it. One of the reasons why he’d published the book (not to mention the damning blog post) was because he’d wanted Cyn to see what she was missing out on, really show off his abilities as a writer. The success, the short-lived fame, and the women that came with it were nothing but an annoyance. He was sick of women kissing up to him because he was a semi-famous author of púca lore. He wanted Cyn. She was the only woman he’d wanted kissing anything. And he wanted his friends back. I’m just so bloody lonely.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, Suzanne closed the shop and winked at Nathan. “Now how about that drink?”

 

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