WYLDER

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WYLDER Page 63

by Kristina Weaver


  “I got it, Granger,” he mutters before the doctor walks out and leaves us.

  “Hawk.”

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  Hawk

  I hate this. I hate the way I feel when I see Mika’s face smooth out, erasing the pinched look of pain she’s worn since last night when I found her puking in that alley.

  I hate the relief I feel to hear that she’s going to be okay, when, honestly, all I can see, and remember, is the way she looked eight years ago when she was in that hospital bed in a coma and her body was on the verge of shutting down.

  I’m weak with relief that all she’s feeling now is a virus that has her flat on her back, but with the threat of illness still hanging over her head, I feel like a noose has been tied around my neck.

  Years ago, I was a kid with a bad attitude and so much anger in me I didn’t know where to turn. I lived my life as a college kid, pretending to be okay with what Mom and Pop expected of us because I didn’t want to rock the boat.

  All that anger and resentment got a thousand times worse when Sparrow died and everything started falling apart around me. I felt grief and betrayal because I was on her ass constantly, trying to get her to see the light.

  When she died and things got bad, I was at my worst. Watching my family crumble and also trying to make sense of what Lyon was going through. He started drinking heavily, and I saw his relationship with Leila fall apart so fast I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  So, I did the only thing I could do and turned to the one person who didn’t have anything to live for but was fighting like a trooper. In those days, I felt half dead, and I knew how pathetic it was because there was this young girl lying in the hospital, fighting to live, while the rest of us where healthy but wanting to just give up.

  I would sit with her at night when everyone went home and slept—if they even could—and I prayed that she would live because she wanted it so badly.

  Mika was my lifeline then, her silent sleep giving me an ear to talk to even if I knew she couldn’t hear me. And the peace in the room was so absolute that it became a haven for me.

  No one ever knew that I was there, and I like it that way, but I was there, so, you see, I know Mika. I have always been with her, and seeing her sick again makes me so angry I could kill.

  Look at everything around us right now. Yeah, everyone is happy and together, and things are good, but you know, we all spent years just fighting to be happy while this woman spent her years trying to live, to say screw you to death and make it.

  I’ve missed out on a lot of her life, but with her and Leila back, I get to see what she’s done with her miracle, and it saddens me that she’s never truly lived because no one will let her forget that she almost didn’t.

  I want her to laugh every day because she made it. I want to tell her that those weeks by her bedside gave me the strength to keep going and that I lost the grief so much faster because she was my ideal.

  She saved me, even if she doesn’t know that, and for that, I will not accept this outcome if it’s bad.

  The nurse comes in after a while and removes the needle from Mika’s arm, telling me that I can go and giving me a prescription to fill. Mika doesn’t move, just stays limp when I lift her and carry her out to the truck, her peaceful expression easing the ache in my chest.

  She’s already looking better, and that makes me feel better.

  Driving through the Saturday traffic, I make a quick stop at the pharmacy, paying an old lady to get it filled while I stand out by the truck to keep an eye on her.

  I have two choices right now. I can take Mika over to Lyon and Leila’s and know that she’ll be okay, or I can respect her wishes and take her home with me where I can look after her and make sure she goes to that damn appointment next week.

  My mind’s already made up when I collect the medicine and give the old broad a hundred bucks for her effort, smiling when she tells me she’s playing bridge as a high roller tonight.

  Once that’s done, I get us both home and carry Mika inside, groaning when I see Lynx watching me from his porch. Shit.

  “Hey. What the hell?” he asks, glaring when I tuck Mika back into the bed in the guest room and snarl at him to shut the hell up. She’s out cold and looking peaceful, so I close the door and grab two beers before I go out and sit on the back porch to take in the cooler air of an approaching storm.

  “Hawk?”

  “She’s got some virus, okay? I took her to see the doctor, and she’s sleeping because he gave her something for her headache. Lay off, Lynx.”

  “Lay off? I was just asking a question and being concerned. It’s normal to worry when it’s Mika who looks sick,” he defends, and it’s then that I get why she doesn’t want to tell anyone.

  Shit, it must be hard to live with people wanting to run her through every test available if she sneezes.

  “No.”

  “No what?” Lynx mutters, grabbing one of the beers and popping it.

  “No, it’s not normal or okay for you to run over here and act like she’s dying just because of the past! She’s not the goddamned disease, Lynx. She’s just a woman who survived something, and she has the right to her privacy and some freaking dignity in her life. Do not leave here and go and tattle this to Leila or anyone else but Teeny, you hear me? She doesn’t need the freaking phone tree going, because her family will freak out and it’s not fair.”

  That gives him pause, and I see his eyes close before he leans back and groans, his face pulling into a grimace of understanding.

  “Hell, I’m sorry, man. It must suck for that girl to even cough around people if I just reacted this way. No wonder she doesn’t want to hang out with everyone anymore.”

  I grunt an agreement and swig my beer, staring off at the river over by Lynx’s property.

  “Yeah, man. You know, it’s just a silly little bug that most people would sleep off like she should have last night, and yet she woke up worse. Fuck, it scared the shit outta me when I walked in and saw her in so much pain.”

  Lynx nods, picking at the label on the bottle and looks over at me with a frown.

  “She’s been here with you?”

  “Not like that, so don’t even start thinking whatever I see in your eyes. I went out with Brass and Teeg last night, but I was bugging out early when I saw Mika stumble out of the club and puke in the alley. Thought she was bombed until she told me she wasn’t feeling well,” I mumble, still feeling like an ass for the way I practically attacked her for being irresponsible.

  “Makes sense. Club. Alcohol.”

  “Except she didn’t even finish a drink, and she was so sick, man. I brought her here because I didn’t want to leave her alone, and spent the night worrying because she was running a fever for a while. Finally broke around dawn,” I grunt, remembering how hard it was for me to do it.

  Looking at her, naked and so beautiful my dick got hard, I felt like a heel for even getting worked up, because she was sick, and it kept running through my mind that I’d seen her like that before. Shivering one minute and dying of internal heat the next.

  It brought back a lot of memories, things I don’t want to think about when I look at Mika.

  “Fuck, that must have been hard, Hawk. Sorry, man. Look, I don’t mean to pry but—”

  “Yeah, you do. You want to know what’s going on with us, and I’ll tell you that it’s nothing but me being a friend. Mika hates me when she’s not feeling sick as a dog, so—”

  “Hates you?” he laughs, shaking his head ruefully. “Hawk, you know, for a guy who screws as much and is with as many chicks as you’ve been with, you are an idiot. A blind idiot. Why does Mika leave as soon as you walk in the door? Why is she always snarling at you when you have a girl hanging off your balls? Why do you think she brought that idiot to Leila’s and my celebration dinner when we found out we got temporary custody of Tammy?”

  I shrug because as far as I can tell, we both avoid the other l
ike the plague. On my part, I’m just not okay with coming onto her and sleeping with her when I know we’re gonna make things awkward down the line. It would suck a lot to have to see her at weddings, birthdays, and all that other family stuff after giving her the bone and then walking out.

  Can’t forget a woman who’s practically family, since she’ll always be around.

  “I think you and Mika may just be attracted to each other and you both don’t know how to deal with it,” he says slowly, his gaze steady and daring me to deny it.

  Like I can. The man was standing right next to me in the pool when Mika came over to his and Teeny’s for Tammy’s birthday, and trust me, that bikini would have made a dead man get an erection.

  Damn embarrassing to get hard in swim trunks with a passel of children running around screaming and making bombs in the pool.

  “Hey, fuck you, okay. That bikini was indecent,” I mutter.

  “No, no, it really wasn’t, considering it was a tankini and she was wearing more than my own woman was,” he laughs, punching my arm playfully and poking fun at me.

  “Whatever. We’re just friends, and that is the way it will stay. She’s Leila’s sister, and she doesn’t need me sniffing around her like a hound dog right now. I’m here to take care of her until she gets well and goes home. Don’t get any romantic ideas. I still got a lot of random one-night screwing to accomplish before I even think of settling down.”

  I don’t care if I sound like a dog. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old man with a lot of years to make up for. I still want to go out and party and just hang with my boys.

  Being in a serious relationship with anyone right now is not what I want or need. Besides, you think I’m down with having this little woman on my back about the way I live?

  She’d kill me the first time I didn’t remember an anniversary, and she’d be on me for kids and all that shit. I don’t want any of that yet. Hell, I don’t know if I even want kids. Ever. Mom would have a heart attack if I ever whispered a word of that blasphemy out loud, but it’s true.

  I like Tammy. Hell, I love the squirt, but she’s enough for an afternoon, and then I am more than happy to give her back to her parents with a do-not-return-soon sticker attached.

  I just want to live my life, on my terms, but as the last man remaining, the only Wylder boy to be single and free, I am definitely feeling the heat from all sides to find a woman and settle down.

  Not happening. Not even sure I’ll ever get married.

  “Fine. Grow old and die alone. What the fuck do I care?” Lynx mutters, tossing his empty bottle in the trash can before loping down the porch steps.

  “You better let Mika call Leila sometime today, after she wakes up. I know that she usually checks in at some point, and if she doesn’t, she and Lyon will just be over to her house or calling out an APB.”

  “Hell.”

  Lynx walks off with a laugh at my horrified expression, and I watch him trot over to the back door as Teeny swings it open and Tammy comes bounding out in her bathing suit.

  I laugh at the expression on his face and the way he looks up at the darkening sky before scooping her up and going inside. I can hear the screaming from here and wince, feeling sorry for the poor schmuck.

  Yeah. So not ready for kids.

  Chapter Five

  Mika

  I wake up to complete darkness and a return of the nausea, this time as a result of an empty stomach. The headache I had is not gone, but it’s a manageable ache that only has me swaying a little when I throw my legs over the side of the bed and drop my head into my hands.

  I’m undressed again, and the bed feels familiar even in the darkness, so I surmise Hawk must have brought me home with him again. I would laugh and ask the universe why it hates me so much but I just feel pitifully grateful that I’m not at home alone feeling like shit.

  Although, I mean, I am not happy with being in my panties in this man’s guest room and having my boobs swinging in the breeze. It’s so ironic! Here I have spent months crushing on Hawk while alternately despising him, and the first and second time he sees me topless I’m too sick to do anything about it.

  Sighing because there isn’t anything else to do, I gingerly rise to my feet and only wobble once before I make it to the door. The sheet is clutched to my chest because I can’t face wearing the dress again. I feel dirty and clammy and that underlying grittiness of sickness that I remember so well.

  The house is dark when I step out into the small hallway, and I try to tiptoe as silently as possible towards the kitchen and something to eat.

  “You’re awake.”

  I scream my head off and almost fall on my ass when I twist around and the sheet gets tangled around my legs. Hawk reacts fast and grabs me, but the sheet’s almost at my navel, and I end up with a whole lot of boob plastered to a naked chest while my stomach hits his boxers.

  Aw, hell, this just isn’t fair, I think, blushing crimson when he goes stiff and thrusts me away, his face averted.

  “Sheet. Up.”

  Geez. What exactly is wrong with my favorite boob, I snarl, huffing as I pull the sheet up and pull away.

  “Sorry. It’s your fault anyway. You scared the life out of me.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Sure. You just creep around in the dark,” I accuse with a snarl, tightening the sheet around my chest and turning to stomp away. Delicately because I feel terrible.

  Hawk sweeps me up three steps into my tantrum and carries me back to bed, depositing me on the mattress with a hiss to stop fighting him.

  “Stay still, Mika!”

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Fine. I’ll go get you a sandwich.”

  My stomach roils at the thought of shoving anything solid down, and I pale, gagging a little.

  “Soup, broth, anything liquid,” I gasp, hating this feeling of helplessness and the way his eyes soften.

  I don’t want him all tender and gentle, because it makes me feel weak, and yet it’s nice to have someone snarling at me instead of pretending. And his nice is acceptable, if a little disconcerting.

  “I’ll microwave one of those easy-to-make packets. That okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  He leaves me as I am, still wrapped in the sheet, and I take the time that he’s gone to spread the thing on the bed and get back under, pulling the duvet up because it’s a little chilly again and the air is making me shiver.

  He comes back a few minutes later with instant chicken broth, some crackers, and the Holy Grail of sickbed drinks, ginger ale.

  “I know you probably won’t eat much, but try to get a cracker or two down. I need to give you that medicine, and you can’t have it on an empty stomach.”

  The first sip doesn’t go down easy. My stomach is starved and not great at the same time, but I persevere from experience and drink it all while nibbling two crackers.

  I feel somewhat better once it’s down and even manage half the can of ginger ale before I give up, not wanting it all coming back up if I overdo it.

  Hawk’s quiet and watchful and hands me three pills as soon as I push the tray away. The pills are huge, but like I said, I’m an old hand, and after swallowing them down, I lie back tiredly, drained from nothing more than the simple act of eating.

  “I feel like shit, and I need a shower.”

  “You look it, and you won’t shower until tomorrow morning,” he mutters, sitting on the side of the bed to peer at me. “I sent Leila a text off your phone telling her you were with friends and not to worry.”

  The mention of my sister is an unwelcome reminder, but I am grateful that he did it because it saves me from having to explain this to her somewhere down the road.

  “Thanks. I should have thought of that.”

  Hawk just shrugs and keeps watching me to the point where I squirm and pull a face at him.

  “What?”

  “You want to maybe talk about today?”

  No. I want to stay here and stew
in my own misery and then pretend I don’t have to face the firing squad next week. But he’s being so nice, and I don’t think being rude to the man who saved me from my family would be very fair after everything he’s done.

  “What’s there to talk about? I have to get those stupid tests whether I want to or not, and I’m being felled by a stupid virus. That’s just life,” I say, shrugging it off because I have to believe it’s fine for right now.

  I’m feeling a little better after getting something into my system, and with the return of some energy, I want to just forget and live a little. Honestly, is a shower and some television too much to ask?

  “Meek, you can’t just pretend things are okay.”

  “Yeah, I can. See, I do all the time, and it works. I don’t have to walk around feeling like a big baby all the time, Hawk. I can be normal and happy without worrying, and I want to do that.”

  “But what if—”

  “Then I’ll deal with it if it comes. For now, I feel less than stellar, but I’m okay. Thank you for doing this for me. I know you could have called Leila and Lyon to come get me, so I really appreciate it. I also want to say thank you for being so rock-solid today. Going into this stuff isn’t exactly a joy, so I appreciate that you didn’t freak out on me or start telling me how everything’s just fine.”

  And I mean that. The first time I got my results back from the doctor and he told us I had to go to an oncologist, Mom started screaming hysterically and had to be sedated. There I was, my whole body numb from shock, and my mother was being treated for it.

  Then the oncologist’s results were given a few weeks later, and my dad started sobbing as if I was dead already while mom, who’d been mentally preparing for bad news, kept telling me how I could kick its ass.

  Traumatic at seventeen. So hard to understand what I was feeling and thinking, and then it was just go, go, go from there. It was more testing and treatment plans and my parents always trying to look on the bright side.

 

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