He understands, then he shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m sorry.”
* * *
Kane Bishop followsme every step I take. He has a wife and babies at home, but he’s on guard duty, and doesn’t ever clock out despite the rotational duties my brothers take. Nixon stayed with me overnight, Mitch was with me for breakfast, Beckett drove me to work, and Corey picks me up again. But all the while, Kane sticks to me like glue and says barely more than two words the whole time.
He’s my security detail, even though I’m not in danger.
I work because I have to, and move around in a fog of denial and despair.Marcie is gone. Marcie didn’t make it.
I work in silence. No music. No customer service. I don’t speak to anyone besides my doctor to confirm my appointment, and that’s only yes/no answers while I make sure everything is scheduled correctly.
Because Marcie would be so mad if I didn’t.
Spencer doesn’t call me at all, and part of me wonders if he’s doing to me what Marcie’s boyfriend did to her; I still have my hair, but maybe he’s realizing how scary this life can be. Maybe he’s not interested.
Or maybe he’s doing his very best to come home, and I should stop vilifying him because I’m grieving.
Nadia works the front of the shop in silence. She serves customers, she does her job, but there is no laughing today, no silliness. There’s no flirting or jokes, and when the phones ring and she comes to ask me only the most important questions, she does it with a hung head and lowered eyes.
All the while, Kane follows me.
He doesn’t just pull up a stool and watch from afar. He’s on my heels most of the day. He’s the most comforting statue I’ve ever met, because despite the fact he’s scary as hell, and foreboding in a way I might associate with the Grim Reaper, he’s also my connection to Spencer. And if I’ve learned anything at all this year, it’s that even the scariest-looking men have the kindest hearts.
I judged Spencer because of how he looks, but I was wrong. So truly, deeply wrong.
So instead of judging Kane, and skittering away in fear each time he moves, I let him shadow me, and I make his life as easy as possible, since Iknowhe’d rather be at home with his family.
I don’t hear from Spencer all day, I don’t hear from him all night.
Part of me wants to get mad. Truly, horribly, unforgivably mad about his absence, but Kane is here, which means, in a way, Spencer is here.
I don’t get a goodnight text from the man I love, or a good morning text, though I’d sell my soul for it.
I make a pot of coffee for Kane, and pour a second mug when Jessie turns up with the babies. She says she wanted to check in on me before work, but I know she wanted to see her love.
I can’t blame her.
I sit beside Nixon, because he stayed overnight too, and watch my phone buzz incessantly. Everyone wants to know that I’m okay. They want to know that I’m coping.
Funeral plans are being made for the girl that should never have died, and my own nerves skitter because my morning rushes by, and I find myself sitting between two large men while a nurse pushes a needle into my arm and draws blood without emotion.
Kane impassively watches on, and Nixon squirms. My heart beats a million times a minute, and my brain is back in Marcie’s hospital room. My old hospital room.
“Alright, darlin’. That’s it.” The nurse caps the final vial of blood – she took three – and pushes a wad of cotton over the small spot of blood when she removes her needle.
I’ve done this a billion times, so I don’t flinch anymore. I simply hold the cotton and bend my arm, then sit back and make no reaction when my shoulders touch those of the men beside me.
“Results ought to be back in no more than forty-eight hours. You’re early this year.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as I stand and lean against Nixon when I sway. Standing too fast and losing blood; never a good combination.
“Personal reasons. I just wanted to get in sooner this year and make sure everything is okay.”
“Okay. You know the drill; you’ll get a text if everything is fine, a phone call if your doctor wants to discuss something.”
Nodding, I do what I do every time I walk out of here. I pray for the text, and hold my brother’s hand.
This is why they baby me, because when the heat comes, I always lean on them. I need their strength, their help.