When Angels Cry (7 page)

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere for a while.” 
Kaylee looked
at a lead sky
yet unloading more snow into ever-deepening drifts.

“
Nope.
  So what do you want to do until the storm breaks?”  A mischievous smile lit his face.  “Wait
—I
have it.  We can get drunk.  That will pass the time.”  He raised the bottle and took another long drink.

Kaylee stared at her bottle, grinning ruefully. 
“I’ve never been drunk before.”

“I was kidding, Kaylee.  Hell, it’s bad enough for you to have a stranger in your home.  The last thing you need is a drunk stranger.”  He sauntered to
a
window glazed with a light frost that distorted the landscape.

Kaylee walked up beside him, standing so closely their shoulders touched.
  “You sure have a lot of dos and don’ts, Bastian.”
 

“That’s a good thing
;
you
could use
a few more don’ts.”  He lifted the beer to his lips and took a swig.

“Meaning?” 
Kaylee turned, frowning as her blue eyes flashed in irritation.

Bastian set his beer on the windowsill and leveled his gaze at her.  “
You should lock your damned door.  You’re asking for trouble.” 

“It’s just stuff, Bastian.”  She looked around the room.  “I’d never even miss it.”

“Not all bad guys are after stuff, Kaylee.” 
Bastian followed her gaze. 
He balled his fingers into fists just to keep from grabbing her shoulders and shaking some sense into her. 

“What do you think those
‘
bad guys’ are going to do to me?” 
She brushed her finger against the glass, drawing an angel in the fog. 

“They could hurt you, rape you…kill you
.
” 
H
is voice cracked. 
Bastian grabbed her wrist with one hand and with the other guided her chin so she had to face him.  Despite her effort to pull free, Bastian maintained his grip. 

“I’m not afraid
.
” 
Kaylee stilled in his grip
,
f
ocusing on a piece of lint
on the carpet
.

“You should be
,
” he growled.  “What's wrong with you?  You act like you’re invincible.
  I’ve seen what a woman’s face looks like when somebody
’s
beaten her.  If you knew what that looked like, you’d lock your door.
”  His jaw clenched so tightly his mouth hurt
, and h
is heart hammered in his chest
as he forced himself to release her.
 

“It doesn’t matter, Bastian.  No lock will protect me.” 
Kaylee looked at the red ring on her wrist, rubbing it lightly. 

“That doesn’t make sense
.
  Did that run
-
in with your dresser knock something loose?  Hell, maybe I need to take you back to the hospital.
”  Bastian pointed to the Band
-
Aid on her forehead. 

“It has nothing to do with hitting my head.  I’ve been this contrary for about nine months.”  Kaylee walked to the couch and perched on the armrest next to her easel.

“What happened nine months ago?”  Bastian tried to focus on the snow, on the fogged glass, anything
except
the frustration he felt when he thought of someone entering Kaylee’s house while she slept.  He could
see
some guy standing over her with a knife
, and h
e shuddered.

“My doctor told me I had cancer, Bastian.”

Bastian whirled and the color drained from his face. 
“What?” 

“I have cancer,” she half-whispered.  “In my brain.”

“
So you’re not really having migraines,” he said finally
, moving to the couch. 

“Sure I am.  I just didn’t tell you what caused them.”  She unfastened the watch strapped to her wrist and set it on the table.

“So that’s why the doctor wanted to keep you in the hospital.” 
Bastian stared at that watch, memorizing the time.  11:17.
He swallowed hard and thought of the gun in his truck. 

“They can’t help me.  I want a normal life, not one filled with doctors and medicine.” 
Kaylee patted Bastian’s knee.  She lay against the couch.

“Even if it’s not as long as it could be?
  What about chemo?
” he asked, finally turning from the watch to Kaylee’s face.

“It's useless.”  She rested one arm on the back of the couch and the other across her abdomen.

“So chemo won’t help.  And drugs won’t help.”  He turned toward Kaylee.  “How can you be so calm?” 
Bastian stood and paced the room, shoving his hands in
to
his pocket
s
and rolling his shoulders. 

“How can you be upset?  It’s not like you really know me.” 
Kaylee wrapped a strand of hair tightly around her finger, trying not to look Bastian in the eye. 

“I didn’t know you when I pulled you out, but I did it.  I couldn’t just watch.”

Bastian stopped short in front of her, knowing that even if he closed his eyes, he would still see her as he had for the last two days.  There was no escaping Kaylee
, and h
e stood, studying her face.  Kaylee shifted uncomfortably, crossing and uncrossing her legs as Bastian leaned closer.  He placed a hand on either side of her face.

“You’ve known me for two days, and yet I can come and go in your house because you won’t lock the door.  You don’t protect things, do you?  But your heart is another matter, right?”  Bastian
gazed
at her expectantly, hovering.

“I
…
I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kaylee stammered.  Her fingers dug into the afghan.

“For the last day or so, I’ve been trying to tell myself I don’t feel anything because that’s how I want it.  But it doesn’t matter what I say to myself.  There’s something between us, something neither of us intended, and that frightens you.  So you think you can scare me away by telling me you’re sick.  Right about now you’re starting to feel I’m here, and you don’t want to feel, do you?”

Kaylee tried to squirm under his arms, but he refused to move and simply leaned closer.   His warm breath caressed her cheeks.  His dark eyes delved into hers, searching.

“Well
d
am
m
it, I didn’t want to feel
,
either but you made me.  And by God I’m not going to do this alone.”

He leaned
in
,
took
her shoulders
,
and touched his lips to hers.  A soft touch before his tongue darted inside her mouth.  His left hand gingerly stroked her shoulder, and, as his fingers trickled across her skin, he could feel her body slacken, relaxing at his touch.  He tasted her honeyed mouth until his voice filled his head.

What the
hell are you doing, Bastian?
  He
pulled away.

As he stood, he saw Kaylee’s mouth was yet open
and he
r eyes were closed.  A soft pink colored her cheeks
, and a
sweet sigh of breath escaped a
s
she opened her eyes.

“
I shouldn’t have done that,” he said.

Chapter Five

Kaylee’s eyelids fluttered open.   Lacing her fingers together, she set both hands in her lap and stared at them, trying to understand the rapid beating of her heart.  The afghan
had
bunched
up
under her, but she ignored it, thinking instead of Bastian’s heated kiss.  Her tongue flickered over her lips
,
and she stood, trembling.   Arms draped across her chest, she moved to the window.

“I’m sorry.”  Bastian cradled his head in his hands.  “I wasn’t thinking.”

What does thinking have to do with this?
s
he
wondered
.
  Kaylee closed her eyes as the answer came. 
He pities me
.
She
brac
ed
herself against the sill, trying to ignore the cold
,
stained wood.  Why
had
she
told
him? 
She’d
been doing so well at keeping this secret.

After a moment, she asked softly, “Why did you kiss me?”

“Why?” Bastian repeated, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. 
Because I couldn’t help myself
, he thought.  Still, he didn’t have the right to kiss her.  Finding the keys, he traced the worn edges.  He kept rubbing, wondering if he could press hard enough to cut through his skin.  Maybe that would make him forget what had just happened.  She couldn’t want a man like him, someone so…lacking.

Kaylee clenched her jaw. 
“It doesn’t matter because you’ve started thinking again.  And thinking doesn’t include someone
…
defective
.
”

“
Y
ou’re not defective.  Look at me.” 
His gaze snapped to her face
,
and he inhaled sharply.  In three
long
strides, he
’d
crossed the room, laid his hands on her shoulders, and tried to turn her to him. 

“Whatever you’re going to say, Bastian, don’t.  I never should have told you.  I don’t want your pity.”
  Kaylee
tried
to
shrug away his hands, but they refused to go, just like the man standing beside her. 

“
I kissed you because I couldn’t help myself.  I don’t pity you.  This isn’t about you.  It’s about me.  I don’t feel good enough for you, and I never believed that someone like you could come into my life.  I’m nobody.”

Bastian tugged until Kaylee turned to him.  He slipped a finger beneath her chin and lifted until he found her blue eyes.
 
He stroked her face, teasing his thumb a
cross
her petal-soft skin.

“That’s not true.
” 

He stiffened, closing his eyes. 
“You don’t know anything about me.” 
 

“I know all I need to.”  She touched his face with her forefinger and traced his lips.  Her fingers moved from his mouth to his cheek, from his cheek to his neck.  She leaned toward him and touched her lips to his.  One of his hands settled at her waist
,
and the other caressed the back of her head, deepening their kiss.

Kaylee slowly slid her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest.  As she pressed
against
him, she could hear his heart hammering.  One of Bastian’s hands stroked the small of her back, the strawberry scent of her shampoo lingering.

“Are you all right with this?”
he asked softly.

“I take things for what they are.  Anything else is pointless.”
She drew him to her.

“Why didn’t the hospital notify your parents while you were there?   I’m sure they would have come so you wouldn’t have been alone.”
 

Kaylee tightened her embrace. 
“I wasn’t alone.  You were
with  me.  Besid
es, I don’t have parents.  I only have one living, my mother, and I didn’t have the energy to explain why I was in the hospital.”
 
  

Bastian shook his head. 
“Why would you have to explain?  Everybody gets sick.”
 

“Bastian, I’m not sick.  I’m dying, and she doesn’t know.  I don’t want her to know.  I’m not ready for that.”
  She leaned against him, clos
ing
her eyes and f
inding
his heartbeat again. 

Bastian g
ritt
ed
his teeth
. 
“There are still things that can be done, aren’t there?
 
You can fight,
can’t you
?”  He pulled away enough to meet her gaze.  When he looked at her, butterflies fluttered in his stomach the way, years ago, they used to when he’d gotten up in front of his classmates and given speeches.

“I won’t win–and the battles get harder.”

“What about drugs?”

“My body isn’t responding to the
m
.”  Kaylee shifted her
gaze to her hands, focusing on
a broken nail
.  She could feel Bastian looking  at her.    She clasped her hands together.

Bastian grabbed Kaylee’s shoulders. 
“How the hell can you just give up like this?  There has to be something they can do.”
  

“You
don’t
understand, Bastian.  Maybe you think that any day, no matter how bad it is, is better than no day, but I don’t want to be in a hospital, barely lucid, in so much pain I don’t even know my name.  When I’m sick, it’s hell, Bastian, and taking drugs will only extend my sentence, not the quality of my life.”  Her whole body trembled
now, and she pulled away.

“How can you not tell your mother?  Doesn’t she have a right to know?”

Kaylee’s face pale
d
and she winced.  “No, she doesn’t, not if I don’t want her to.”  She took in the surprised curve of his mouth and the frown darkening his features
, but
a hint of pain in his face softened her res
olve
.

“I will tell her, but not now,” she said quietly.  “I don’t have a choice about this disease.  But that doesn’t mean I have to regret the way I did it.  The last thing I want is her opinion on “the best way” to handle things."

“
I
sn’t that convenient?  You make all the choices, and the rest of us have to deal with the outcome.  Maybe your mother would like to spend time with you.  Maybe she loves you and needs to get to know you before....”  His voice tapered off. 
Bastian paced, focusing on the act of putting one foot in front of the other.  He touched his cheeks and realized as the stubble pricked his
fingers
that he’d forgotten to shave this morning.  His stomach rolled
,
and nausea attacked him.  He stopped at the window and waited for it to pass.
Saying it would make it real
so h
e tried to focus on the way the snow
had
piled up outside the window, the hum of the heater
—anything
except the hollowness
he felt
inside.

Kaylee folded her arms across her chest. 
“Maybe she does.  But it won’t be because I’m terminally ill.  I don't want her pity, and she
’s
not going to
control my death
the way
she's controlled my life.”

The doorbell rang
,
and Kaylee jumped. 

“Looks like you have company, and maybe I should see if my truck will start.
  Sometimes it changes its mind.” 
He fumbled with
his keys.

Kaylee peeked out the window again.  “Where are you going?  I don’t think your truck is going to start.”

“I don’t want to crowd you or give your guests something to talk about.”
  He stepped toward the door.

“You’re not crowding me
,
and I don’t give a damn what they talk about.  It’s pointless
.”  She gestured to the couch and touched his arm.
 
“
Sit.  Please.
”

Bastian looked at her
imploring
eyes
and finally sat.

As Kaylee stepped into the foyer and peered through the stained glass window in the door, she saw the outline of Rosie Griggs.

“How did I know it was you,” she muttered, pulling
open the
door. 

“There you are
.  You could have called St. Andrew’s and said you weren’t coming
,” Rosie said.  She was a tall African
-
America woman in her late thirties with thick hair twisted into a bun.  She wiggled a chiding finger at Kaylee. 

From the other room, Bastian tried to block the voices, but he couldn’t, not when Rosie’s voice boomed loudly.

“I didn’t feel well this morning,” Kaylee said, l
eaning against the door
.

“You didn’t feel well enough to help out in the soup kitchen but you felt good enough to have some hottie over for breakfast?
  Looks like somebody’s been here a while
…m
aybe all night?”
  She pointed to Bastian’s truck.

Does she recognize
his truck?
Kaylee
wondered.  “My girlfriend from Newark, actually.”

“That don’t look like no girl’s truck.”  Rosie pulled her hood over her head and cinched the string.  “Me and the girls thought maybe you might be in the sack with your Prince Charming.  He didn’t show, either.”

Kaylee coughed uncomfortably, leaning more heavily against the door frame.
  “Coincidence, I’m sure.”

“Are you all right?”  Rosie asked.           

Kaylee stood upright
, and s
he felt her cheeks redden.
  “Peachy, thanks.”

“How’s your head?” Rosie asked softly.  “Is that why you were sick this morning?”  She gently touched Kaylee’s shoulder. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all.  Nothing big.” 
Kaylee squirmed and nudged Rosie’s hand away.  She stared at the ground, avoiding Rosie’s gaze.  Goosebumps stippled Kaylee’s arms, and she folded them across her chest, trying to stay warm.  Her breath funneled outwards and dissipated.

“You talked to your mama lately?”  Rosie shifted her weight from one foot to the other and shook the snow from
her galoshes.
.

Kaylee nodded wearily.  “Last week.  She said she’d be home this week.  I asked if that w
ere
a threat or a promise.”

“You did not.” 
Rosie grinned. 

“I wanted to.”  She pointed toward the living room.  “Do you want to come in?”

Rosie shook her head.  “Nah, girl.  I just came to see if your white ass was still in bed.  Besides, you look like you need rest, and you can’t get that with me around.”  She pointed to the truck.  “Maybe you’d better tell your girlfriend you need a nap.”

“I’ll do that.” 
Kaylee brushed her hands up and down her arms and watched the snow silently wafting from the slate sky. 
It would be good to be in bed right now,
she thought.

“
This weather ain’t fit for man
n
or beast. 
Get some rest,
g
irl,” Rosie said, shuffling down the drive to her Jeep.  One foot slid from beneath her, but she caught the side of Bastian’s truck and regained her balance.

Stopping, she turned to Kaylee.  “You find an art teacher yet?”

“I’m working on it.  I have a list of candidates.”

“Time’s getting short.” 

“Yeah, I know.”  Her voice trembled
and she wished
she could stop thinking about the future.   Rosie shuffled the rest of the way to her Jeep.  She’d left the engine running
,
and a moment later, the headlights flickered to life
. 
Rosie waved and backed down the drive toward the street.  A moment after, her tail lights were lost amid a flurry of snow.

Kaylee stepped back into the foyer and closed the door.  As she turned, she bumped into Bastian
.  T
he unexpected collision knocked her off
balance
, and
Bastian grabbed her.

“Care to tell me about this
‘
girlfriend
’
from Newark?”  His eyes glinted.  “What about this ‘
h
ottie?'”