Take My Breath Away (The Every Breath Duet Book 2)

by Faith Andrews

  I imagined the hospital was a lot like the Big Apple—a bustling city that never slept. It didn’t matter what time of day or night it was, there was always an emergency, a new baby coming into the world, or nurses working the graveyard shift.

  No longer alone with my thoughts and fears, I took comfort in being surrounded by the comings and goings of the staff and other visitors as I made my way up to Sam’s room.

  Stepping out of the elevator, I tiptoed quietly around the unit as not to disturb the sleeping patients. As expected, the overnight nurses waved and smiled as if it were twelve in the afternoon and not midnight. I nodded and beamed back, almost saddened by the thought that after tomorrow, Sam and I could put this place behind us, much like so many other aspects of our past.

  No more tired than I was when I flipped and flopped beneath the sheets at home thirty minutes ago, I rounded the bend and stepped inside Sam’s room, only to stop short at the sight of the three of them congregating like a secret society of old chums.

  “Mom? Henry? What are you doing here, and so late? Is everything okay?”

  I was frozen in place at the open door, worried that their midnight meeting of the minds meant that something else had gone wrong. What now?

  “London, sweetheart. What are you doing here?” Mom fussed.

  “I wanted to be with Sam,” I admitted with a shrug. “I couldn’t sleep. Should I be . . . worried about . . . this?”

  “No, babe. Everything’s fine. We couldn’t sleep either. Come here.” Sam scooted over in his bed, patting the empty spot next to him and curling his index finger in invitation.

  I did so, unable to help myself from feeling like an intruder on their conversation. But as soon as I plopped next to Sam and he tugged me close and kissed my neck, all insecurities vanished. This was as good as home. As long as Sam was there, anywhere was home.

  Henry broke the silence. “We’ve been talking for some time about . . . everything that happened today.”

  My eyes darted to Mom, who was sitting upright in a wheelchair with a quilted blanket draped over her legs. From the redness rimming her eyes, I could tell she’d been crying. I hoped we could keep the events that unfolded today from her for a while longer. I didn’t want to upset her, or risk her recovery. I didn’t want her to know any of it until I felt she could handle it.

  I craned my neck to look at Sam and then pinned my disapproving gaze on Henry. “You guys should have called me first. She didn’t need to know. Not now.”

  Henry opened his mouth to speak but Mom beat him to it. “Of course, I did, London. Don’t be upset with them. They did the right thing.”

  “But I would have told you eventually. When you were home. When you had your strength back. Besides, everything’s fine now. They made you worry for nothing.” I tried my best to act as if today wasn’t the most terrifying day of my life. I forced a smile as if to say, “See, Ma. All good.”

  Sam’s grip around my waist grew tighter as he leaned over and adorned the top of my head with a lingering kiss.

  When he pulled away, I caught my mother and Sam in a magnetic-like eye lock.

  “Show her,” he said, nodding.

  Henry offered the same encouragement to Mom, placing a hand on her shoulder and winking at her.

  “What’s going on?” I scrutinized all three of them, waiting impatiently for an explanation to what seemed like some covert code I wasn’t privy to.

  Sensing my unrest, Mom reached inside the blanket and produced a folded piece of paper from her lap. “Here,” she said, passing it to Henry, who in turn walked it over to me and placed it in my palm.

  “What’s this?” I asked, my hand trembling as if he’d just passed off a bomb.

  “It’s from Memphis,” Mom said, her voice mutilated with unshed tears. “Read it.”

  Panic washed over me, my heart rate kicking up to a dangerous speed. The first thought that came to mind was that it was a suicide note. Please, God, no!

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, leaning my head on Sam’s shoulder. “Is he . . . Did he . . . ?”

  “No, no, no,” he whispered, stroking my hair. “Nothing like that, but he is . . . gone.”

  “What do you mean . . . gone? Is he okay?”

  “Just read it,” Mom coaxed me.

  Unfolding the crisp white paper, I held it up and stared at it before I could bring myself to concentrate on any of the words scrawled across the page. It was Memphis’s handwriting and at first glance, I could see it was addressed to me.

  “Why me?” I asked as I looked at Mom.

  “Because he came to see me earlier. He said everything he needed to say before he left.”

  “And what? He couldn’t face me? His only sister, his flesh and blood, who was tied up and held at gunpoint because of him, I don’t deserve the same decency?” Enraged and uncontrollable, I crumpled the paper in my hands and smashed it together as if the power of my defiance could turn it to pulp.

  “Babe,” Sam whispered, turning my face so we were eye-to-eye. “I know you’re angry, but—”

  “Sam, I hate him! I hate him for everything he did and everything he didn’t do! Months and months of reaching out to him. Our mother needed him. I needed him. Only to discover he was messed up in this shit? I never want to see him again! I don’t care what this letter says. There is nothing he can say that will make me feel differently. He’s dead to me!”

  “London!” Mom scolded.

  “Kiddo, calm down,” Henry added, walking over to me.

  Once at my side, he cupped my cheek in his large and calloused hand, tipping my head backward so I was forced to meet his paternal-like gaze. “If you don’t want to read it now, don’t read it. Take your time and do what you need to do. But don’t hold on to this hate. I know that’s not how you really feel.”

  Damn him for being right. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t hate my brother and I certainly didn’t want him dead. But I did want him out of my life—for now. I was too angry, too hurt, too disappointed in the choices he made and the lies he told.

  It was too soon. Tomorrow would be too soon. Hell, a year from now might still be too soon.

  I made the decision then and there and handed the ball of crumbled paper back to Henry. “I don’t want to read this now. I just can’t.”

  He tucked it away in his pants pocket, creating a ridiculous round bulge at his thigh. “I’ll hold on to it until you’re ready. How’s that?” He winked.

  “I’m not sure that day will ever come, but thank you, Henry. Thank you so much for understanding.”

  “Of course, kiddo.” He offered both of his hands with his palms facing upward.

  I did not hesitate to drop my hands into his and hold on to them firmly.

  Locking eyes, I smiled at him, so grateful for the kind of man he was and that Mom and I could call him . . . ours.

  Tears pricked the corners of my eyes as the realization set in that although I’d missed out on the bond between a father and a daughter for the better part of my life, I now had Henry to make up for it. “You’re something special, Henry Cooper. You know that?”

  “Thank you, kiddo. You’re pretty special yourself.”

  Still grasping his hands, I looked over to Mom who was positively glowing from our exchange.

  “Ma, if you don’t marry this guy . . . I might steal him from you.”

  Mom’s eyebrows rose all the way up to her scalp and she and Henry broke into a string of contagious laughter.

  It felt good to join them. So long overdue. The Monroe women had been to hell and back, but here we were. Stronger than ever and coupled with our soulmates. That was long overdue, too.

  Sam, however, was not as easily amused as the rest of us. He gawked at me with his mouth wide open, darting his eyes between me and Henry. “I know he’s great and all, but don’t make me jealous of the old man. I kinda like him. Besides, just a few hours ago you promised yourself to me, remember?”

  I giggled, nuzzling closer
to him and releasing Henry’s hands with another warm smile aimed at the only other man I trusted with my life. “I could never forget, babe. But you do have quite an example to live up to.”

  “Alright, alright.” Henry chuckled, throwing his hands in the air in defense mode. “I think that’s our cue, Ella. Whaddya think?”

  Spinning herself around in the wheelchair so she faced the door, she hid her yawn with the back of her hand. “Yes, love. I’m ready for bed. I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day.”

  “You have no idea,” I mumbled.

  Mom flashed a stern look my way and narrowed her eyes as she scolded, “Tomorrow, you and I are going to sit down together and you will tell me everything, detail for detail.”

  “Mom,” I complained as I rolled my eyes. I should’ve known it was too soon to make light of today’s near-death experience.

  “No, don’t Mom me. I’m confident Sam and Henry told me what I need to know, and your brother, I’m sure he only gave his side of things. I won’t be kept in the dark anymore when it has to do with my children. You and Memphis, you’re my whole life, London. If anything had happened to you . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head as if to expunge the horrid thoughts from her mind. Sniffling, she sat taller in her chair and deepened her tone. “This isn’t over until I say it’s over but I’m too tired to pull it out of you tonight. Tomorrow it is, you got it?”

  I huffed but saluted her as if she were a drill sergeant. “Yes, ma’am!”

  She smiled, content with my obedience, and blew a kiss to Sam and me. “I love you, both of you. Thank you for keeping my baby safe, Sam.”

  “Of course. I intend on keeping her safe for the rest of our lives,” he promised as he kissed my temple.

  Mom grinned from ear to ear as Henry took his position behind her wheelchair. “I have no doubt you will.” She yawned. “But it’s late. The two of you get some rest, you hear?”

  I giggled, shaking my head. It was funny how even in her condition, she had the ability to boss us around and force us to take her seriously in the process. “Okay. You guys, too. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  “Love you,” she said as Henry wheeled her off and waved good night.

  “I love you more.”

  How lucky were we to be in the hands of two men who cared and loved us more deeply than we could’ve ever imagined?

  A few minutes after Mom and Henry left, I got up from the bed to use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and grab my pillow and blanket.

  I was in the process of situating my stuff on the large recliner next to Sam’s bed when he cut through the silence with a whisper. “You don’t really think you’re sleeping in that chair, do you?”

  I looked over my shoulder with a shrug. “That bed isn’t exactly the best fit for both of us.”

  “London.” He scoffed. “Get your cute little ass over here. I’ve slept without you in my arms for too many nights now. If I have to sleep standing up to be next to you, that’s what I’ll do.”

  I pouted with my hands on my hips. “You need a good night’s rest. Don’t you want to get out of here tomorrow?”

  “Cramping next to you in this bed will not change the fact I am getting the fuck out of here tomorrow, come hell or high water.”

  “Says you. But those nurses are hard asses. We should follow the rules.”

  That made him laugh. “Follow the rules? When have you ever known me to do that, Monroe?”

  This was true. Sam had a tendency to bend the rules whenever I was involved. It was one of the things I loved most about him because it was a testament to just how much he was willing to sacrifice so we could be together.

  “Fine,” I finally sighed. “Lately, I just can’t seem to say no to you, can I?”

  He lifted the blanket and patted the mattress, curling his index finger with his eyes pinned on me seductively. “Hop in. I wanna hold you.”

  Only a few days ago our once perfect world had been turned on its axis and tested to the limits. But it seemed an eternity since I’d been in his arms, since he held me close and kissed away my fears. I wanted that tonight, more than ever. It was why I’d come here in the first place. I did not hesitate a second longer before marching to his side and sliding underneath the covers, against the cold sheets.

  “Ahhh,” I let out a breathy sigh of relief. “This feels like—”

  “Home,” he finished for me.

  “Yes. As weird as that sounds, that’s exactly what this feels like.”

  With my back against his front, I crept closer until there was not a molecule of air separating us. He draped his arm around my waist, only to urge me to spin around so we were nose-to-nose, breath-to-breath.

  “Hi, babe,” he whispered, kissing me softly.

  “Aren’t you tired?” I giggled against his lips.

  “Not in the least.” He trailed his fingers along my neck and shoulders, eliciting goosebumps across my flesh, awakening parts of me that longed for his touch.

  “You know we can’t . . . do anything, right?”

  “I know,” he groaned. “But I’m allowed to think about it.”

  “Sounds a lot like torturing yourself, if you ask me.”

  We shared a knowing laugh and then he closed his eyes.

  After that he became silent, caressing my cheek with his thumb, breathing me in through his nose. I felt his heart beating against my chest, and reveled in the synchronicity of mine and his together.

  I thought maybe he had drifted off so I kissed the tip of his nose and whispered, “I love you.” To my surprise, he was still fully awake, and when he opened his eyes to fix them on mine I could see that they glistened with unshed tears.

  I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands. “What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t get the images out of my head.” His voice was laced with agony. “You tied up. Helpless. So scared.”

  “Oh, Sam.” I tried to coddle him. “It’s over, baby. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

  “I’ll never stop thinking about it. I’ll never stop wondering what would’ve happened had I not shown up.”

  “But you did! You saved me. You’re always saving me. You’re my hero.”

  “I could’ve stopped all of that from happening if I’d only told you the truth from the beginning.” He blinked slowly and swallowed hard. “I am so sorry for lying to you, London. I am so sorry for being impatient.”

  “Impatient?” I questioned, confused.

  “What I did was wrong. I should have waited to tell you how I felt. The timing was wrong. I should have waited until—”

  “Until what? The timing was perfect! You waited seventeen years. That was long enough. And you did nothing wrong. I’d already moved on with-with Bryce.”

  The mention of him caused Sam to tense up so I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him and continued, “It doesn’t matter what Hunter’s plans were. This is his fault. Not yours. You should have no guilt, take no blame. And make no mistake, Sam, the best day of my life was the day you told me you loved me. I don’t care about the circumstances or the lies anymore. Everything happens for a reason and your reason has always been me. I know that now, and I wouldn’t change anything—not even what happened today—if it meant we would wind up right here, right now, in this hospital room, in each other’s arms.”

  I heard his husky exhale. It was profound, loud enough to fill the room with its intensity. “Do you forgive me?”

  “Yes, Sam, I forgive you. And I love you. More than I have ever loved anything or anyone. I will love you until the day I die, my best friend.”

  His lips crashed against mine with his fingers burrowing into my hair to keep us close. “I love you so fucking much,” he said with his mouth pressed to mine.

  And those were the last words Sam spoke before we both closed our eyes and fell asleep to the sound of two hearts beating in time. The way they were destined to all along.

  Sam—Five years later

/>   “HE’S TAKING HER too far.” I jumped up from the towel, but London pulled me by the arm before I could jet off to the shoreline.

  “Stop being a helicopter dad. Her grandpa’s got her. She’s okay.”

  Henry held Lark’s tiny hand in a vice grip. I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but every time my almost four-year-old daughter stepped even an inch out of my reach, my heart seized in my chest.

  “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” I teased, rubbing London’s swollen belly. “Thirty-one is too young to go gray, babe. What’s the return policy on this one?”

  London slapped my arm and then brought her hand up to run her fingers through my hair, where it was sprinkled with sporadic silver strands. “I think it’s sexy as hell. And that’s what got us in this position again, Goodwin. You’re too hot for your own good. Can’t keep my hands off of you. Besides, fatherhood looks wonderful on you and you know it.” She clasped her other hand over mine, moving it to the spot where our unborn child kicked feverishly inside her growing belly.

  “She’s gonna be a soccer player,” I said, in awe of how powerful her tiny limbs forced their way to the surface of London’s taut skin.

  “He just likes our beach. The sun makes him happy. It’ll be his favorite place. Like his big sister,” she corrected me with a smile that brightened her dewy, sun-kissed face.

  I rolled my eyes and gave in to her fantasy. This had been an ongoing dispute from the moment the two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test. Neither of us wanted to know Lark’s sex before she was born—we agreed it was one of the few precious surprises left in this world—so we opted to also keep baby number two’s gender a secret until the end. I was convinced we would be blessed with another daughter in two months and London insisted she was carrying a baby boy this time.

  Whatever. I knew I was right, but I honestly couldn’t care less. As long as the baby was healthy and happy like our Lark, nothing else mattered.

  My heart never felt as complete as it did while I sat here with my wife and watched Henry and Lark laughing and jumping the waves. My little girl loved her grandpa like there was no tomorrow. I was pretty sure he was her favorite person on the planet. When he was around it was as if London and I didn’t even exist.