Illicit: A Forbidden Romance (13 page)

“
W
hat the hell
are you doing here?”

Joss flinched at the outrage in my voice but, at that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. I had just caught her making out with my brother. How the hell else was I supposed to react?

Tristan wisely withdrew his arms from around Joss’s shoulders and jumped up. “She’s my date,” he said, like he had any right to be angry. The fucker.

“Your date?” A roaring sound filled my ears as I turned back to Joss, who sat there with a dumbfounded look on her face. I fought the urge to jump over the back of the couch, torn between wanting to kiss her and shake her shoulders.

Joss stood. When she touched Tristan’s arms, I almost went postal. “I think I’d better go,” she whispered.

“I’ll walk you down,” Tristan said.

My hands clenched into fists. “Like hell.”

“No. Stay.” She threw a quick glance my way before retrieving her purse and heading to the door.

I glared at my traitor of a brother. “You and I are going to have words,” I spat out before rushing out the door.

“Joss!” I ran down the stairs after her. “Stop.”

She spun around, a myriad of expressions crossing over her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She paused. “Did you?”

“Of course not!” I took in deep breaths, trying to reign in my temper. Then I remembered the things he’d told me about her—how beautiful, how amazing she was—and my face flamed. “You think I’d be okay with my brother dating you?”

She shook her head, a helpless look on her face. “I don’t know. I…”

Then something occurred to me, something she’d said the last time we saw each other. “Wait, was he—was Tristan the guy you thought could help you get over me?” I didn’t know how I got the words out. All I knew was that it felt like chewing on glass.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at her feet.

I shook my head in disbelief, letting out a humorless laugh. “He took you to the bookstore on my suggestion. I’m such an idiot.”

“I loved it,” she said in a quiet voice.

I felt so stupid. I’d even been thinking of her while suggesting the place to Tristan. “Do you love him?” I didn’t know why I asked; I sure as hell didn’t want to hear the answer.

“That’s none of your business.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets and took a step back. “You’re right. It’s not.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t see me again. I’m not going to see your brother anymore.”

My shoulders sagged. I’d be a complete asshole if I deprived her of someone she cared about. Again. “If you really want to be with him,” I began, questioning my sanity with every word. “Then I won’t stop you.”

“You’d do that?”

“If that’s what you really want.”

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “You’d still be in my life, torturing me.”

“You know that’s not my intention.” My head hurt, my heart hurt, my everything hurt.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “I can’t keep saying goodbye to you. It hurts too much.”

I nodded, a lump stuck in my throat.

“I don’t want to do it anymore.” With that, she turned and left.

“
W
hy did
you let her go?” Tristan asked as soon I came back in to the apartment, closing the balcony door behind him. No doubt he had eavesdropped.

I slammed the front door. “Because I’m the last person she wanted to see.” I paced the room with hands on my waist, chest heaving up and down, while my brother leaned against the back of the couch, casually drinking beer. I stopped as it all dawned on me. “You fucking knew. You knew who she was.”

When Tristan shrugged as if it was no big deal, I lost it. I lunged forward and grabbed hold of his shirt. “Do you think this is a fucking joke? She’s not one of those brain dead Barbie dolls you play around with.”

Finally, his cool façade broke. “You think I’d do that to you?”

I pushed him back so hard, he fell over onto the couch. “Well you just did, you asshole.”

He scrambled back to his feet, huffing. “I was trying to help you.”

“By dating her?”

“I didn’t know who she was when I first met her, but yes, after I figured out who she was, I thought I’d date her and get her to open up about you.”

I looked at him incredulously. “And what would that have done?”

“To make her miss you. To make everyone else pale in comparison.”

My hands squeezed into fists. “So you two making out on the couch—that’s supposed to make her miss me?”

He held up his hands and chuckled. “I’m sorry. That was… unexpected.”

I tackled him back into the couch, holding my forearm against his throat. “Did you sleep with her too?”

“No.” He pushed me off him and picked up the beer bottle off the rug. “You spilled my beer, you fucker.”

“You kissed my girl,” I huffed, sinking down on the coffee table.

“Your girl? I thought you broke up?”

“We did.” I set my elbows on my knees and buried my face in my hands. Regardless of the situation, of distance and relationship status, I still considered Joss mine. Probably always would. “Do me a favor: Don’t ever try to fix a relationship for me ever again.”

Tristan threw a beer-stained rag at my head. “She still loves you, you know.”

“Well that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t be together.”

“Now why is that again?”

“Because of her mother.”

Tristan grinned. “You want me to date her mom instead?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I threw the rag at his face, laughing despite myself. “Asshole,” I mumbled and rose to my feet.

“Come on, bro,” he called as I headed to the guest room. “Just one word and I can make this a whole family affair. Let’s go all Days of Our Lives on this shit.”

“You’re sick.”

His laughter followed me down the hall.

A
few days later
, I finally closed on a two-bedroom Spanish-style house within a mile of my store. The down payment had damn near emptied my savings account, but getting my own place was a necessity. I was closing on thirty-one years old. I couldn’t live with my little brother forever.

It took longer to move out of Amanda’s house than it did to move into my new place. But then again, extracting myself from that life was like pulling out a bad tooth—hard but necessary. And it had hurt like hell.

“Tell me again why I’m doing this for free?” Tristan asked after we’d brought in the last of my furniture that had been sitting in storage. He went to the fridge and got out two beers, holding one out to me.

“Blood is thicker than water or something.” I sagged onto the couch, taking a deep breath. “And you owe me.”

He sat on the arm of the leather couch, eyeing me as he drank his beer. “I think you did the right thing,” he said, sounding so serious, so unlike him, that it made me look up. “Opening the store store, buying this house.”

“It was definitely way past time.”

He clinked his bottle to mine. “So I guess this means you’re staying in Florida.”

I sighed through my nose. “Guess so. I mean, I’ve lived here long enough. It was probably time to commit.”

Tristan snickered. “I never took you for a guy who had trouble committing.”

We were lost in our thoughts for a moment when Tristan said, “I talked to Joss yesterday.”

I glared at him. “What?”

He held up his hands. “Just to set things straight.”

“She called you?” I asked, bristling.

“Yeah. To ask me if I was playing her all along. I had a lot to explain.”

“And?”

“And what? She thinks I’m an asshole. Called me as much.”

“She’s not wrong.” I took a long pull of beer then shook my head. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“I had good intentions, brother.”

“Haven’t you heard that saying about the road to hell being paved with good intentions?”

“Yeah, so I hear.” He paused, studying me. “So you two are definitely over?”

“Yes. But don’t even think for a second you can ask her on a date again.”

“No, I was just thinking I know someone you might really click with.”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“So you’re just going to be a celibate monk forever?”

“No. But the next woman I date will be someone I picked for myself. Someone without any ties to you or anyone else I know. I need a completely clean slate,” I said, even if I didn’t completely mean it. Because, no matter how many times I wipe that slate clean, the surface will always be scuffed by the memory of Joss.

I
made
an honest attempt at avoiding Joss, even if we lived within five miles of each other. Still, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t occasionally drive past her house after I was done at my workshop late at night. Even if I never caught a glimpse of her, it was soothing to know I was somehow still watched over her like her secret protector.

“Secret protector,” Tristan sniggered after I relayed the thought to him one late night as I closed up the store. “You’ve been reading way too many fantasy novels.”

I shrugged. “So I’m protective of her. Sue me.”

“I think it’s more than that. I think you’ve got some sort of knight in shining armor complex,” my brother said. “You always act like you have to save everybody.”

“It’s better than the person who only thinks about himself,” I shot back.

Tristan took the jab in stride. He knew what kind of man he was and was more than okay with it. “If I’m so self-centered, how come I tried to get you and your ladylove back together?”

“By kissing her?”

“That was part of the plan.” He grinned, rubbing his jaw and looking off into space. I’d seen that look on his face before, but now I didn’t like it one bit.

“Wipe that smile off your face,” I said, pushing him out the front door and locking it.

He chuckled. “Sorry. I can’t help it if she kisses like a champ.”

“Tristan, you’re about to get beat the fuck up.”

He held up his palms in surrender. “Relax. I’m just playing. So you want to get some beers?”

“Sure.” My phone rang then, the name flashing on the screen freezing me in place. “Hang on, I have to get this,” I said, turning away. “Joss?”

“Jake.” In that one word I heard the panic in her voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m at Miramar Memorial Hospital.”

Those four words sent a spiral of fear down my spine. I was already in my truck, waving a hasty goodbye to my brother, before she could speak again.

“Please come,” she added in a tiny voice.

I pulled out of the parking spot and threw the gear into Drive. “I’m on my way.”

Please let her be okay. She’s got to be okay.

The drive to the hospital felt like forever. I seemed to hit every stoplight and fell behind every slow person in all of South Florida so that by the time I pulled into the hospital lot, my knuckles were white on the steering wheel and I had practically ground my molars down to dust.

I jumped out and ran to the entrance, berating myself for lapsing in my responsibilities. I should have kept a better eye on Joss, should have continued watching over her. I should have been around to prevent this.

At the reception desk, the woman looked up Joss’s name then shook her head. “There’s no Jocelyn Blake checked into the hospital.”

I turned around, pissed that I’d gone to the wrong hospital, when a thought struck me. I turned on a heel and marched back to the front desk with dread. “What about Amanda Blake?”

Sure enough, a minute later, the receptionist said, “Third floor, room thirty four.”

A
fter exiting the elevator
, I ran down the hallway. When I passed by a waiting area, I caught sight of a lone figure hunched over, blonde hair hanging down as she held her face in her hands.

I stopped. “Joss?”

She brushed the hair away from her face as she tilted her head up and fixed her red-rimmed eyes on me. She didn’t say anything. Without a sound, she stood up, crossed the distance between us, and wrapped her arms around me.

I held her as she fought to keep her composure. I kissed the top of her head and rubbed circles on her back, hoping my presence was enough for the time being.

“It’s my mom,” she said, her voice muffled by my shirt. “She’s… sick.”

“What happened?”

She pulled away and wiped at the tears I didn’t even realize had fallen. “I went over to the house to cook her dinner and I found her laying on the floor, clutching her stomach. She was in so much pain, she couldn’t even move.” She stopped, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. “So I called the ambulance and they took her here.”

“What is it? What’s wrong with her?”

She took in a deep breath. “Ovarian cancer. Stage five.”

I staggered backwards, the news slugging me right in the chest. “Cancer?”

Big fat teardrops rolled down Joss’s cheeks as she looked at me with woeful green eyes. “It’s why her period stopped, why she always felt so exhausted.”

Why she thought she was pregnant.

I turned to continue to Amanda’s room but Joss grabbed my wrist.

“She’s in surgery right now. They’re going to try and take out the tumors.”

I sagged, forcing myself to focus on what I could fix. “She’ll be okay, Joss,” I said, wiping at her cheeks.

Her lips stiffened, her jaw becoming rock. “I know she will.”

I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her that she didn’t need to act brave, at least not around me, but I let her be. Maybe she was braver than I gave her credit for. Maybe she didn’t really need me for comfort. But she had called me in her time of need, and that had to count for something.

F
or several hours
, Joss and I sat in the waiting room, our stomachs tied in knots, our eyes glued to those green double doors for the doctor. We took turns pacing, going to the bathroom, buying coffee, but more often than not, we sat together in silence, only speaking in hushed tones.

“I should have taken better care of her,” Joss whispered, twisting her fingers together. “I should have seen the signs.”

“How the hell could you have known?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “ I could have forced her to see a doctor. Made her take her yearly pap smears. Something.”

“There’s no way you could have prevented this.”

She fixed me with a steady look. “I should have been a better daughter. I shouldn’t have….” Her voice filtered away, but the unsaid words hung in the air between us.

“Don’t do that, Joss,” I said, my face growing hot. “We didn’t do this to her.”

Her eyebrows knitted together as she asked softly, “Didn’t we?”

I jumped to my feet. “That’s ridiculous. We didn’t give her cancer.”

“No, we didn’t,” she said. “But did we take away her will to care?”

I spun around with a huff. Anger coursed through my veins, but I didn’t know if I was angry because Joss was wrong… or because she was right. Had our betrayal done this to Amanda? Had she simply stopped taking care of herself?

“I’m going to get more coffee.” As I walked away, the double doors whooshed open and a doctor walked through in his scrubs, the white mask still hanging around his neck.

I looked over my shoulder in time to see Joss jumping to her feet. “Is she okay?” she immediately asked.

The doctor glanced at me as I came closer. “She’s out of the OR and stable. You should be able to see her soon.”

“And the cancer? Did you get it?”

I took hold of Joss’s hand, lending her my strength.

The doctor—Dr. Pointer, PhD—shook his head. “We took out what we could but the cancer has spread.”

Joss squeezed my hand as her breathing turned ragged. “What does that mean?”

The look in Dr. Pointer’s eyes didn’t lend much hope. “There are still some avenues we can try.”

“Such as?” I asked.

“At this stage of the cancer, I suggest an aggressive approach. Radiation and chemotherapy.”

“Will that work?” Joss asked, nodding her head as if urging the doc to do the same.

He looked down at his hands a moment before looking her in the eye. “There’s a chance. But I don’t want to raise false hopes, Miss Blake. The truth is that your mother’s cancer is at a very advanced stage. If it doesn’t respond to the radiation and chemo…” He trailed off, unwilling to speak the dire possibility.

Joss straightened her spine. “How long?”

“Conservatively speaking, about a month. Maybe two.”

I felt the breath leave Joss’s lungs, felt her deflate beside me. I slipped my arm around her waist to support her should she fall, but she pushed me away.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Pointer said. “I’ll let a nurse come and get you when you can see her.”

After the doctor left, I turned to Joss. I opened my mouth to speak but she cut me off, holding up a palm. “Just don’t,” she said and walked off.

T
he nurse came
out a half hour later but Joss still hadn’t returned. “I’ll go find her,” I said and went in search. I checked bathrooms and stairwells, but finally found her in another waiting area on the other side of the building, sitting in the far corner with her head on her knees. The sight of her on the floor almost broke me.

I sank down on my knees in front of her, touching her hand. “You can go see her now,” I said gently.

She looked all of sixteen when she lifted her head, so young and so lost. “I don’t know how I got here,” she began, glancing at her surroundings. “I was just walking. Then I didn’t want to walk anymore so I sat down.”

I took hold of her hand and helped her up. We walked down the hallway in silence, our steps sluggish, dread wrapped around us like an invisible cloak.

It seemed only a few seconds passed before we were faced with Amanda’s door.

A nurse hurried over and stopped us. “Family members only please.”

I took a step back, letting Joss’s hand fall away. Her head swung around to me, eyes wide, but whatever it was she wanted to say would not come out. “I’ll be right here,” I told her.

She swallowed hard and gave a slight nod. Then she took a deep breath and opened the door. Over her shoulder, I caught a glimpse of a woman on the bed, her eyes closed, tubes in her nose. But before my brain could recognize the face, the door swung shut.