Cross my Heart (Iris Boys Book 4)

by Lucy Smoke

  “Nah,” I said teasingly. “I thought I’d pick something up for myself this morning.”

  “Brat,” she accused with a small smile.

  I winked. “You know it.”

  “So, they are for me then?”

  I laughed as I assured her. "All for you,” I said.

  "They're lovely."

  "Just like you," I replied as I arranged them.

  "You seem happy today," she commented as I took a seat at her side.

  I smiled, heat rising to my cheeks so quickly that I knew they were pink when the door opened and a nurse came in. "Oh, hi there, Harlow, good to see you again."

  Nurse Linda moved across the bed from me and reached over my mom to remove the empty food tray. "Let me know if you need anything," she said with a smile, nodding to me as she left the room just as quickly as she had come.

  When the door closed behind her again, Mom reached over and patted my hand. "Alright," she said, "out with it."

  "Out with what?" I blinked at her, confused.

  She gave me a look. "You know what, young lady. You're smiling like your face is pinned that way. Something must have happened to make you this happy. Or..." Mom grinned wickedly, "someone happened."

  My blush intensified. "Mom!" I hissed, eyes darting towards the door. I sighed in relief when I realized the nurse had shut it behind her. "It's nothing,” I said.

  But it wasn't nothing. It was beautiful. It was amazing. I still felt like I was floating on cloud nine. Nothing could bring me down. My good mood had remained even when I had woken up—late and alone—to find that Grayson had left a note behind telling me that he and Marv were going on a job together. They'd been going off together so much lately that it was kind of hard to imagine that not a month ago they were at each other's throats. I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth though.

  "Well, whatever has made you happy now, I'm glad for it," Mom finally relented. "You deserve a little happiness in your life." She coughed roughly, her whole body hunching over as she hacked into her palm. I stood up, my hand moving over her back, hovering, but not touching.

  "Mom?"

  She sat back with a rough huff, waving her hand for me to sit down again. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she said weakly.

  "You don't seem fine." My eyes glanced to the end of her bed, but there was no clipboard there today. Sometimes, when there was, I would sneak a peek. Though half the time I couldn't make out what it said through all the charts, graphs, and bad handwriting, it made me feel better.

  "It's just the chemo." Mom started to hack once more.

  I felt so useless as I reached for her and began to gently rub her back until the coughing had subsided. Only then did I reach for the clear glass of water on the nightstand and handed it to her. She swallowed several gulps before shakily handing it back to me.

  "Maybe we should talk to the doctor about lowering how much physical therapy you're going through," I suggested quietly. “Or how much chemo they’ve got you doing.”

  There was a brief pause from her before, just barely above a whisper, she replied, "The doctor already moved me down to the lowest schedule, Honey."

  My whole body froze at the news. That either meant something very bad or something very good. And as much as I wished my mom was getting better—looking at her, I knew the truth. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. I was wrong when I thought nothing could bring me down from my impossibly good mood. It seemed that no matter what good came to my life, there was always something infinitely worse hanging around the corner.

  "Let's not talk about it right now," Mom said. "Tell me what made you so happy before you came here."

  I hesitated, but seeing the excited and expectant expression on her face, I knew I couldn't refuse. I loved having my mom back. I loved seeing the woman she really was—not the angry, confused woman from before. I launched into telling her about the date Grayson had taken me on. About how sweet he had been. I didn't leave anything out—not even the dancing.

  Well...I might have left a few details out. Details that I would certainly not have left out had it been Lizzie—who would have pestered me for the long and intimate moments of the evening. My mom didn't need to know all that.

  "He sounds like such a nice man," Mom said almost an hour later. "And the others? Are you still with that company? Those boys that come and visit me too?"

  "Yeah, I'm still staying with them," I replied. "They're great."

  "And..." She looked at me, pursing her lips.

  "And yes, we're..." I averted my gaze, "working things out. Between us."

  She nodded and coughed once. I was half out of my chair when I realized it was just the one cough. Mom eyeballed me before sighing. "I'm tired, Honey. Thank you for the flowers and coming to show me your pretty face." She reached out and touched my cheek, her fingers light on my skin, barely there. "You grow more beautiful every day."

  I cupped her hand against my cheek and sighed. "Okay, I'll go," I said, "but only so you can get some sleep. I'll come back real soon."

  As I got up and gathered my purse, she waved her hand in front of her face. "Oh, don't worry about me, I'll be fine." At the door, I turned and glanced back. Her eyes met mine. "Love you, Baby."

  "I love you too, Mom."

  I released a heavy sigh when the door closed behind me and then looked up, hoping to catch one of the nurses at the nearby station but it was empty. I stepped up to the counter and looked sideways down the hall, but it, too, was clear. In fact, there were only two people in the vicinity—me and an elegant woman in a cream-colored overcoat leaning against the counter as she checked her make-up in a small, portable compact. I debated on waiting for one of the nurses to return. I wondered if maybe they could catch my mom's doctor for me before I left.

  "My, you have lovely skin, darling."

  I jerked as a perfectly manicured hand landed right next to mine on the nurse station countertop. Tipping my head back, my lips parted in surprise. The woman in the overcoat wasn't just elegant, she was stunning. With golden locks pulled back into a coiled twist at the back of her head. I blinked as she smiled at me and almost comically, I turned—looking one way and then the other.

  "Yes, I'm talking to you," she said, that smile never leaving her face as she snapped the compact closed and stowed it away in her purse.

  "Oh, um, thanks," I fumbled awkwardly.

  Her eyes, gently lined with dark kohl eyeliner, curved over my face before down to my bulky sweater and jeans. Her lips pursed as if she were displeased but trying to keep her smile. I couldn't pinpoint what it was about this woman that warned me away, but she reminded me of a hungry predator, and at that moment, I felt like her prey.

  "We haven't met yet," she stated cordially, holding out her hand. Unsure as to why she would have thought we should have met before, I took her hand. "My name is Theodora Vandersen-Caruso.” She smiled as I froze. “My friends call me Teddi. I’d like it very much if we could be friends too."

  My eyes widened and I jerked my hand back immediately. She blinked down at me as I took a step away from her, narrowing my gaze. "I see you've heard of me." She laughed quietly, like a tinkling noise—wind chimes in the breeze. It grated on my nerves.

  I definitely did not want to be with this woman alone. Not after what Grayson had told me. I looked around, hoping against hope that a nurse would appear, but as my bad luck would have it, none did. I'd have to come back to speak to my mom's doctor later, I decided. But before I could turn and leave, the woman spoke again. "Now, now," she tsked absently as she reached into her purse, removing a long, wallet-sized pad. "Don't run off just yet. I came all this way to meet you, after all."

  I sucked in a breath. "I don't think that's such a good idea." But southern propriety held me bound. It would only be polite to hear her out, it would be respectful. I really really didn't want to be respectful or polite right now. I wondered how fast I could come up with an excuse to leave.

  "You're quite pretty, Harlow." Grayson'
s mom opened the pad and then produced a pen from her purse and started writing something down. "And I know you're here visiting your mother—such a good daughter." She paused and shot me a soft smile. "My son could learn a thing or two on how to treat his mother. He could certainly learn a thing or two about respect and politeness."

  The nerves in my muscles jumped, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't think of a damn thing to say.

  "I know you understand how important family is," she continued, "and I've grown tired of waiting for my son to come to his senses. So, I'd like to make a deal with you Harlow." She finished whatever she was writing with a quick scrawl, tucked her pen away, and then ripped the paper from her pad and handed it to me. I held it in my hand but didn't look.

  "Oh, go on." She nodded down at the paper in my fingers. "I'm sure it'll be enough."

  "Enough?" I repeated, glancing down. My eyes nearly popped out of my skull. My breath caught in my throat. My hands shook as I jerked the paper away from myself before I could count the zeros. "I don't want this," I snapped.

  Grayson's mom—Theodora—shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I'm sure a girl like you could use the money," she replied coolly. "Think of what you could do for your mother. You'll find some way to spend it." She bent down low, meeting my gaze head on. "And all you need to do is stay away from my son."

  I had expected it, especially when I realized that she had handed me a check for a hundred thousand dollars, but hearing it out loud made me feel like I'd been slapped. I set the check on the nurse's countertop and took another step away. "I don't want your money," I said.

  She shook her head. "If you're worried about what Grayson will think, don't worry. I won't tell him about the money if you won't. You can break up with him, kick him out, do whatever. Just make sure he comes back to me. That's all I ask."

  "No." I glared at her. "What I mean is—I'm not taking your stupid money. I'm not kicking Grayson out. As far as I'm concerned, he can stay as long as he likes. And if it keeps him away from you, all the better."

  Theodora's head snapped to the side and her eyes narrowed. I swallowed as her upper lip curled back from her perfectly straight and perfectly bleached teeth. "I doubt you're in a position to refuse this kind of offer, Miss Hampton." She spat my name like it was the vilest of words. “A girl like you—little family, no money—you’ll never get this chance again.”

  “A girl like me,” I said through clenched teeth, “is a hell of a lot better than a woman like you.”

  “Oh?” She cocked one elegant eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  When I didn't reply, she turned her gaze away and inhaled deeply. When her eyes moved back to me, they seemed colder somehow. She stepped up to me, and I stepped back. We repeated the process until I was pressed back against the nurses' station, the edge of the countertop digging into the middle of my back.

  "Grayson belongs with his own kind," she said slowly. "I'm sure you think that you're helping him, perhaps you even think that once he turns twenty-one, he'll get his inheritance and you'll be set for life. But I'll die before I see that happen." Her smile turned lethal, her teeth seeming to gleam in the harsh fluorescent lighting. "Or maybe," she pulled back, "you think you actually love him." Her laughter was severe—raspy. "If that's the case, then let me reassure you, sweetheart, men like Grayson don't marry for love. They marry for money because money loves money."

  "I-I—"

  "And," she interrupted, "I think we both know that, in a relationship with my son, you're not bringing anything to the table." Her gaze strayed down to my cheeks and then my neck and then even further down. She appeared to think something over before speaking again. "Well, maybe your looks, but I promise you—without money like mine—those won't last long."

  I grit my teeth against the insult, but really, was she wrong? I didn’t have money or much in the way of material to offer. I had myself. The guys. Friendship? Love? But she—her words—even made me question that.

  "Can I help you, ladies?" I jerked at the sound of a new voice, banging my hip back against the counter. I winced as Theodora took a confident step back. Reaching into her purse, she retrieved a pair of sunglasses and slid them over her eyes. They were so large, they almost covered the upper half of her face, hiding her expression as she turned a dazzling smile on the approaching woman.

  "I'm good, thank you," she said politely to the nurse now standing behind the station. "Just having a short girls’ chat."

  "Harlow? Sweetie, did you need something?" the nurse—whose name I couldn’t remember as I watched Grayson's mom turn and make her way down the hallway—asked.

  I shook my head, my hand sliding away from where it had landed on the countertop. I glanced down sharply when my fingers touched paper. She had left the check. Even holding it in my hand made me feel sick. But I grabbed it anyway—knowing I needed to show it to the guys—and shoved it into my purse before I thanked the nurse and headed away. Each step down the hall echoed like clanging bells, ringing in the end of all of my hopes that my troubles were over.

  Chapter 5

  The front door slammed shut behind me, resounding through the house. "Hello?" I called out. "Guys?"

  After a moment, there was the sound of feet from upstairs and Texas' head popped over the railing. "Hey, Spider-Monkey, you just get home?"

  "Yeah, are Marv or Grayson back yet? Bellamy? Knix?"

  He shook his head, moving to the stairs and descended slowly. "Nah, Gray and Marv are still out. Knix is working at a construction site. Why? What's up? Is it something I can help with?"

  I bit my lip, unsure if I should reveal what happened at the Care Center without everyone present. Texas watched me with curiosity, but he didn't push when I sighed and shook my head. "It's nothing," I lied. I really wanted to tell everyone when we were together. That way we could all come up with a solution as a team. No more running off to fix things and leaving anyone out.

  Texas tilted his head to the side and then reached out pulling me close. I blinked in surprise as he nuzzled my nose with his own and then pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. Almost immediately, the tension in my muscles melted away and my arms arched up to cross behind his neck. My eyes closed and I sank myself into his mouth, letting his tongue touch mine. Texas' grip on my waist tightened and he grunted, pulling back with a mischievous grin.

  "Bellamy's in his room," he said as he extracted himself from my grip. "Why don't you go hang out while I make us some sandwiches."

  "Roast beef?" I asked hopefully.

  Texas laughed, bopping me on the nose. "Roast beef it is," he promised.

  I smiled back, feeling honestly relieved. I didn't know how he did it, but Texas could turn stone into jello if he tried hard enough. Just being around him was relaxing. As he disappeared into the kitchen, I dropped my purse on the stairwell and made my way upstairs. Just as he said, Bellamy was in his room, sitting on his bed with a guitar in hand. I paused by the door as he settled into a rhythm, strumming several chords together. Against the far wall, I let my gaze stray to the covered paintings he had left there. I wondered which was mine. I wondered if he’d finished it yet.

  After several minutes, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. "You gonna stand there all day or come in?" he asked.

  I smiled and then bum-rushed the bed, flinging myself onto the pillows at the head. A startled and angry kitten shriek followed my actions and I immediately rolled over as Cleo poked her little head up between the pillows. I reached for her apologetically. "Sorry, sweetie." I cradled her in my lap for all of fifteen seconds before she began to paw angrily at my hand for me to let her go. I released her and she shot from the room, meowing grumpily.

  "I think you pissed her off," Bellamy said with a chuckle.

  I groaned and laid down. "She'll never want to sleep or cuddle with me again," I lamented.

  Putting his guitar in its stand against the wall before moving back to the bed, Bellamy stood over me for a brief moment before reaching down and clasping me a
round the waist. He lifted me easily before turning and sliding onto the mattress. He brought me over him until each of my legs slid alongside his and I was half-straddling, half-laying on top of him. I sighed against his chest and snuggled closer.

  "How was your mom?" he asked.

  I released a frustrated breath and pressed my face into his chest.

  "That bad?"

  Squeezing my eyes together, I shoved the tears back, refusing to let them fall. But my eyes ignored my commands. They started to water anyway. I shook my head—I couldn’t talk about it. I didn’t want to be reminded. For just this moment—just for the short breaks from reality these guys gave me—I wanted to pretend like everything was okay. That Theodora didn’t exist. That my mom was happy and healthy.

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart." Bellamy's wide palm cupped the back of my head, gentle and warm. Reassuring. We laid like that, in the quiet comfort of his room until a sound outside the doorway brought both of our attention back to the present and out of our own individual internal thoughts.

  "One cheese and ham for Bell," Texas said as he set a plate piled high with several sandwiches down on the nightstand. "One PB&J for lil' old me and one roast beef sandwich for the Spider-Monkey Princess."

  I groaned, rolling off of Bellamy. "I thought I told you to pick one nickname," I said as I reached for my sandwich.

  "I'm a rebel," Texas said with a shrug as he bit into his PB&J.

  "I thought I asked for the PB&J," Bellamy said as he sat up.

  Texas grinned around a mouthful of food, swallowing before he answered. "You did," he replied, "but I changed my mind on what I wanted on the way up here."

  Bellamy's eyes narrowed on the sandwich in Texas' hands before he slumped back and reached out in defeat for the ham and cheese consolation prize. Halfway through our sandwiches, Bellamy turned to me. "Alex called today, wanted to know if you wanted to work tonight. He had a girl call out because she’s got the flu and no one could pick it up. He says he’s still got you on the payroll and if you wanted some hours, he could use someone to fill in until his regular girl is feeling better."