by Emerson Rose
“Everyone can go, I got this. I’m not leaving him.”
“Imani… we aren’t leaving you, either of you,” Elena says, “And, hey, let me see your lip. What happened here? It’s swelling and it’s been bleeding.”
I raise my hand and touch my sore lip. When will this shit ever end? What am I going to say?
Well, Elena, your brother freaked the fuck out, called me names, threatened to rape me and bit my lip.
“I must have bitten it when Marcus fell.” She wasn’t there. She doesn’t know that he didn’t fall. She’s suspicious, though, and narrows her eyes leaning forward to look closer. I cover it with my hand.
“Do you have any ice in this place?” I ask in hopes that my question will distract her from examining me further. Elijah moves to a fridge, and I keep talking.
“What’s the deal with this hospital slash O.R. in the house? You told me you would explain later, it’s later.” I stand with one arm around my waist and the other still covering my mouth.
Elena and Enrique are sitting together across the room and she’s fiddling with a ring on her finger, twirling it around and around.
I’m happy to see that Doctor What’s-His-Name is packing up to leave. He creeps me out; I can’t say why, it’s just something about him.
Elijah hands me an ice pack, and I return my focus to Elena and Enrique.
She’s biting her lip, and I know they are keeping something from me, something big.
“What? Why isn’t anybody talking?” Elijah sighs and takes my hand, leading me to another chair. We sit down, but he doesn’t take his hand from mine. Now I’m really nervous.
“Okay, Imani, all of us have wanted to tell you the truth but Marcus has been so different since the accident. He’s changed, you’ve changed him.” He looks over at Elena and Enrique as if for confirmation to continue and she looks terrified.
“We didn’t think it was necessary to talk about it if the change were permanent. But this personality change leads me to believe that you need to at least know the basics of who he used to be.”
“Okay, you’re kind of scaring me with all this hand holding and cryptic talk. Let’s have it.” Being sassy is a cover up for what I’m really feeling and that’s petrified.
Fifty-Seven
I wait as Elijah searches for the words I’m not sure I want to hear, but he doesn’t get the chance to say them.
“Imani…” Marcus’s soft, gravelly voice halts the conversation. He’s coming around and the first thing from his lips is my name, just like the first time we met.
I drop Elijah’s hand and step across the chilly sterile floor in my bare feet to his side.
“You’re here,” he says with disbelief. I wonder if he remembers anything about this afternoon.
“Yes, of course I’m here. How do you feel?” I ask while Enrique is busy assessing and taking vitals.
“Tired, really tired.”
“Are you in pain?” I ask. He turns his face to me and reaches up to touch my cheek.
“You’re so beautiful, my Imani. So, so beautiful,” he whispers.
“You can see me?”
“Yes, I thought I’d never see your beautiful face again, but here you are.”
Now this I didn’t expect. Why do I expect anything anymore? I’m overjoyed that his sight has returned and that he’s awake, but what does this mean?
It reminds me of my terminally ill patients. At the very end of their life they would feel great right before they passed. God, please don’t let it be that.
“Come closer.” Now there is my bossy man. I lean over him and he raises both hands to cradle my face.
“What’s this?” he asks when he sees the IV in his hand.
“You had a seizure. We’ve been crazy waiting for you to come around.”
“You’re just crazy, baby.” He pulls me to his mouth and kisses me with all the passion of a healthy vital man. Sparks rocket through my body, bringing me to life. The string that attaches our souls pulls taut, everything feels right in this moment but that little niggle in my head says ‘be cautious; it’s a trap.’
He caresses my lips with his, sliding his tongue around mine. He backs away slowly to examine my face. When he looks into my eyes, I know he can see me, really see me.
“What happened here?” he says quietly, brushing his thumb over my bruised lip. It’s amazing how no one exists when we are together like this. We don’t even notice when the room clears.
Everyone has left us alone but they didn’t know it wasn’t necessary. We were already alone.
“I, we uh, bumped when we were kissing.” I say, stammering.
“We did? I don’t remember that.” His forehead wrinkles as he tries to bring up a memory that isn’t there to find.
“I don’t remember how we got here. What happened?” I lay my head on his chest and his arms circle me.
“You weren't you.”
“What do you mean I wasn’t me?”
“What do you remember about the last couple of weeks?” “Well, everything, I think. The last thing is us lying down for a nap today.”
Relief washes over me. I’m very glad he has no memory of the events immediately before his seizure. I’ll have to make sure Mr. Black and Elijah erase that part of the surveillance. Last time he found out he had hurt me it nearly destroyed him.
“Well, you napped but I couldn’t sleep so I went to sit in the living room, in the sun. You woke up and I wasn’t there so you came to find me and that’s when you had the seizure. Why didn’t you tell me about this mini-hospital? And why on earth is it necessary?”
I rise up and prop my hip on the narrow gurney that is filled completely by Marcus’s solid body and wait for an answer.
“It never crossed my mind to tell you. I don’t like to go to hospitals, so I have my own,” he answers easily as if it were perfectly normal to have a hospital in your house just because you don’t like to visit the local germ hole.
“That’s a little extreme.”
“And? You should know by now, Imani, everything I do is extreme. I have the best of everything, and the most beautiful. That’s why I have you.”
Nice save. There has to be more to the story. I’ll let him tell me when he’s ready.
“Do we need to be here?” he asks.
“I’d like for you to stay, for a little while anyway to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” His face darkens with concern.
“Do you think it might?”
“It’s hard to tell what’s going to happen. I mean you’ve lost and regained your sight, had personality changes, headaches, and now a seizure. We need to find someone to remove that damn tumor.”
He rolls his eyes but he doesn’t answer me. He just stares.
“What?”
“I just want to look at you, for as long as I can, baby.”
“Don’t say things like that, you’re going to be fine. Dr. Carlson will remove the tumor and we can go home, live a long life giving each other goofy love looks all day long if you want.” Defeat and doubt hang in the air between us; he’s all but given up on a future together and it pisses me off.
“Okay, whatever you want I’ll do it, as long as it makes you happy. I know the possibility of a full recovery is slim, but you’re not there yet and I respect that.”
Respect that? What the hell? This is no time to give up the fight and I don’t intend on letting him.
“You, Mr. Castillo, are not a quitter. You love to win, conquer, squash, and rule. I will not accept anything less than the full power of your determination when it comes to saving your own life, and mine. You do realize I can’t live without you, right? You go, I go, so get your ass out of the pity pot and join the battle, damn it!”
My heart is pounding and a thin sheen of sweat covers my body. I am so angry. How dare he give up? His eyes narrow and, after a few moments, the smirk that melts my resolve every time spreads across his face and he winks at me.
“I love nothing more t
han listening to your smart mouth, Imani Jefferson. Well, except for kissing it. And since you put it that way, yes, I’ll join you in the fight. I’m not going to be responsible for your demise. You’ve already proven that you can’t survive without me. I know you’re serious and I promise to be as well. I’ll fight for you and you fight for me. How is that?” He gathers my small trembling hands in his and squeezes them.
“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s a start, he’s still on Team Defeat but I won’t rest until he’s on my team, Team Triumph. He may have given up on himself but I know he would never give up on me.
Dr. Carlson will be here soon. I’ve pinned a lot of hopes on him and I hope he can deliver. If we can just give Marcus some optimism, some hope and get him headed in the right direction I’m sure he can survive… he has to.
“I’m not staying down here. Get Elijah to take me to my room.”
“But…”
“No, no, you, my little queen, have said enough. Get your ass up and get him, or I swear I’ll yank out this IV and walk out of here myself.”
He lifts one brow high and cocks his head to the side with an ‘I dare you’ expression.
“Okay, fine,” I say, poking out my lip in a pout.
“Poke that lip out any further and a bird will land there.” He brushes his finger across my protruding bottom lip.
I roll my eyes and stand to go get help. He grabs my arm, suddenly sending me into complete muscle lock-down defense mode.
“Don’t ever leave me, baby.” The desperation in his voice is opposite his normal stern commanding presence.
“I’m just going to get…” I motion toward the elevator door but he shakes his head back and forth.
“No, I don’t mean like that. You are all I’m fighting for now, nothing else. Without you I won’t make it. You’re my savior, my angel. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you. My heart beats only because yours does, Imani. You need to know how important you are to my survival. I will simply cease to exist without you.”
How many times will this man pulverize my tender heart with his need for me? The only answer to that question is as many times as it takes.
Fifty-Eight
I untangle myself from Marcus’s embrace and walk to the elevators. The doors slide open unexpectedly, and I jump when I see Mr. Black and Elijah are there inside, waiting.
“Shit, you scared the crap out of me,” I say and bounce on the balls of my feet
“Sorry, Imani, we couldn’t go far after all that’s happened,” Elijah says.
“Yeah, about that. Where the hell were you earlier when I really did need you?” I whisper loudly, widening my eyes for effect. I don’t give him time to answer.
“Cat got your tongue?” Elijah begins to open his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand.
“No, never mind. I need help taking him to his room. He says if we don’t take him there he will just do it himself, and you know he will.”
I lower my voice for the next part just in case Marcus has supersonic hearing, which he probably fucking does.
“Erase that section of the video surveillance before he sees it.” Mr. Black nods in agreement and Marcus pipes up.
“I’m pulling this thing out and I know you are scheming, Imani. You are terrible at being sneaky.” Shit, shit, shit, I need a good excuse and fast! Oh, what the hell? I’ll never get away with lying. I’ll avoid the truth instead.
The three of us leap into action; Elijah grabs a wheel chair and Mr. Black and I help Marcus off the gurney.
“You know you should stay here a little longer, don’t you? Just saying.” I shrug. He looks at me with sleepy eyes that say ‘duh.’
“Okay, okay, I had to try.” Marcus sneers at the wheelchair and I’m sure he would refuse it if he weren't so weak.
“Come on, Mr. Castillo, let’s get a move on then.”
“You are building a strong case for punishment, Miss Jefferson. You’re lucky I adore you so much.” I’m lucky alright, as long as this Marcus stays put and the other Marcus disappears forever.
I wonder if he’s punished women in his past. I can’t worry about that right now. I’ve got to focus all of my attention on the upcoming visit from Dr. Carlson. He is the key to our happiness.
Back in Marcus’s bedroom, I give the guys a wide-eyed look and tilt my head toward the door in hopes that they understand what I want.
They need to get that video erased and I need to get this man in bed.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” Mr. Black says.
“And I’m going to talk to Maria about dinner. I’ll bring it to you both in here if you like?” Elijah asks.
“Yeah, that would be good. Thank you, both.”
I tidy up a little and put the things we purchased this morning away with one eye on Marcus. He can see now and he wants to make the most of it by watching every move I make.
“Stop all that and come over here with me.”
I finish up taking more time than necessary. I refuse to be afraid of him but the uncertainty of the other side of him breaking through, now that I am afraid of.
“You’re stalling.” He notices, crap.
“I am not, this room is a disaster. We just came home earlier and dumped everything to nap.”
“Well, let’s finish what we started then. Come here.” I start to approach.
“Stop. Undress for me.” That commanding voice… I can’t say no to it. I find myself doing as he says without a second thought. I begin to unbutton my shirt slowly and he holds up a finger indicating I should pause.
My fingers freeze while I watch as he reaches for my iPad on the table next to the bed. Someone must have found it and returned it to Marcus’s room. He taps a few times and music begins to flow, after which he makes a fanfare in my direction indicating I should return to undressing. The music isn’t especially sexy or heavy but soft and exotic.
I let it seep through my skin and fill me with the intended sultriness and close my eyes. My fingers unbutton to the slow beat and I hear Marcus rustle ever so quietly from the bed. I don’t need my eyes open to know where he is. I’m beginning to feel his essence and presence in the air around us.
He’s circling me, slowly. My breathing picks up. I feel like an animal that’s being preyed upon and knowing there is nowhere to run, no escape. But this animal isn’t afraid of being caught, quite the opposite, I’m excited beyond belief.
My shirt open, I begin to shrug to remove it but he steps to me and, without touching my skin, slides it off, tossing it aside.
“You’re doing very well,” he says, as his warm breath hits my skin and I tremble.
“Do you trust me?” he says softly in my opposite ear, and I nod. I do trust him, completely, as long as he stays him. But, so far, I’ve been able to feel the shift in the atmosphere around us when the Marcus I loathe is present. I feel none of that now.
Next, something very soft tickles my shoulders right before he circles my head with his hands and covers my eyes with the silky material. What the…?
I suck in a sudden sharp breath of fear. I may have had multiple surgeries to hide my physical scars but the emotional damage can never be erased.
“Shush, it’s silk, and I’ll tie it loosely. See?” He does and I can’t really feel the blindfold other than my long eyelashes feathering against it when I try to open my eyes.
Purple silk is all I can see when I do but I close them again, making the blindfold virtually nonexistent.
“Mm, I knew you could do it, baby. Now, out of the rest of those clothes.”
I unbutton my jeans and I hear him go to the door and close it with a soft click and pad across the plush carpet back to his position behind me, still not touching.
No sexy way to get out of these jeans; they are too tight. I wiggle my ass, again feeling the music and using the rhythm, not exactly a striptease but it’ll do. I bend at the waist getting out of the jeans and Marcus hisses in a breath.
“Stop.” I’m tou
ching my toes, nearly done shedding my clothes and he wants me to stop? I hear him kneel behind me, so close the heat from his body touches mine. Still no physical contact, though.
His breathing suggests that he is making a strong attempt to stay in control. A warm puff of his breath hits my ass and he surrenders, hands surround my ankles and I feel his soft hair against my legs as he works each foot out of the jeans. Leaving me in sheer purple panties and a matching push up bra.
I try moving again but he stops me with his hot hand on the small of my back. I still, and that hand begins to glide over the round cheek of my ass and he moans, placing both hands on me now.
I’m soaring in a purple ethereal universe. He has made sure I’m not going to peek with the scarf over my eyes and I understand the message.
He can see now and I can’t.
Our tag team caring has gone on throughout our entire relationship and right now he wants to take care of me. His fingers slide up, hooking under the edge of my panties and pulling them gently back and down my legs.
Cool air hits my core when they drop to my ankles. He spreads my legs exposing everything he wants and all that I want him to have.
“Ah, God, Imani, to see you again, and like this, fuuuccckkk.” His hands roam up my legs more leisurely than I would like and I start to feel the effects of the blood rushing to my head from being in this position for too long.
“Come, stand up and move to the bed.” As always, he knows what I’m experiencing. I hear him rise from his knees and circle around to my front. He takes my hands to lead me to the bed.
I allow him to direct and do with me as he pleases because ultimately it pleases me just as much, if not more. Able to breathe better, my head clears and he faces me toward the mattress and away from him and assists me in bending over face down on the bed. My arms above me, I’m able to relax a little but not much more as the room is engulfed in an electric charge that crackles between our bodies.
Hovering over me, I hear his jeans drop to the floor and he kicks them aside. He was already shirtless; we cut it off of him in the Castillo mini-hospital. The palm of his hand moves up my spine until it reaches the clasp of my bra and he unhooks it but makes no further moves to take it off. He wants access to my bare back.
