Read A Forever Kind of Love Online

Authors: Shiloh Walker

A Forever Kind of Love (4 page)

She smiled back and came to sit on the bed next to him. Chase hovered in the doorway and Roger pretended surprise. “Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

“Wanted to bring some books over to you all, seeing as how you’re still pretending to be sick,” Chase said, giving him a half smile.

“Yeah, it’s been a cakewalk. I get the best fucking drugs, my wife hovering over me.” He grinned back, a little relieved that they could still mess with each other. They were both in love with the same woman. But Chase didn’t hate him. It was easier, Roger realized, going to his grave with that knowledge. He’d hate it if Chase despised him. “Hey, did you say books? Shit, I get books too?”

Chase’s grin widened. “Yeah. I brought books. There’s even an ARC in there—an author sent it to the store—not my thing, but you can read it, tell me if it’s any good. If it is, I’ll order some in when the book comes out.”

Zoe stroked a hand down his arm. “Baby, I got a call from Brooklawn. There are some problems with Mom and I’ve got to go out there. Chase said he’d hang around for a while. Is that okay?”

“Shit.” Roger scrubbed a hand over his face. “Chase, you don’t need to do that. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Hell, who said I’m babysitting your ass? I just don’t have anything else better to do. If I hang around my house, somebody is going to try and call me into the store and it’s the one day a week I take off,” Chase said, his voice wry. “You’re doing me a favor, really. Letting me hide in a house where there is a nice big flat screen, food… Hey, is there beer in the fridge?”

 

 

Her plan, really, was to go home.

But plans often went awry, and Zoe knew if she went home right now, she’d end up doing something worse than popping Chase in the face—even if he had egged her into it.

She blushed even thinking of it. She felt terrible, and felt even worse, because just doing it had done something to relieve that vicious knot of tension inside her.

She stormed out of the rehab center, stinging from the last barrage of insults from her mother. Once she climbed into her car, she threw her purse onto the floorboard. For a second, she wanted to cry. Desperately wanted to cry.

It didn’t matter that her mother didn’t even know her.

It didn’t matter that her mother didn’t even know what she was saying, not really.

All it did was bring back memories of times when her mother
had
known her. Her mother hadn’t ever loved her—her parents had split up when she was two and her mother blamed Zoe. Her father had dutifully sent child support and she’d always been well provided for, but her mother had passionately, desperately loved her father, and Zoe was the reason they’d split up.
 

In her mother’s eyes, at least. Whether that was really the case or not, nobody would ever know, but Zoe bore that burden for most of her life. Even now, when Grace didn’t seem to know anybody, Zoe suspected somewhere inside, there was a part of her that still knew her daughter.

Most of the people who cared for Mom were treated with apathy, unless they did something the older woman just outright hated. Like bathing, the event that led to today’s unpleasantries.

Zoe, though, Zoe wasn’t treated with apathy.

She hated Zoe…though she didn’t remember her.

Zoe couldn’t come through the door without being subjected to vile, horrid insults, and often, physical assaults. She had dodged so many bedpans, food trays, books and other objects, she could probably qualify for a professional dodgeball team.

She couldn’t go home. Not right now.

The wounds were so raw and Roger would see them.

Worse, Chase would.

She couldn’t stand for
him
to see them.

As much as she hated to share the burdens with Roger, he was still her husband and she knew he’d want to know. Chase, though…she couldn’t let him see, couldn’t let him know.

Her mother left her feeling too raw, and there were secrets there. Secrets he couldn’t know. Secrets he had no right to know.

She’d go to the gym.

Maybe she didn’t feel right going shopping, to a movie, getting a manicure, but she could go to the gym, sweat off some of this frustration, maybe sit in the sauna for a bit. That would help.

She hoped.

 

Roger was asleep when she got home.

She was glad.

She was too on edge and she needed to settle. He didn’t need her burdens on top of what he was feeling.

He’d fallen asleep on the recliner end of the couch, the foot elevated, a blanket thrown over him. She smiled because she knew Roger—he wouldn’t have gotten himself a blanket.

Chase was sprawled at the other end. The TV was on, the sound low. He had a book in his hand and when she came inside, he looked up at her. Studying the workout clothes, he said, “You weren’t wearing that when you left.”

“Decided to go by the gym.”

She kept her voice quiet, although she knew Roger wouldn’t wake. He probably wouldn’t wake until eight or nine tomorrow. Her heart broke a little as she stared at him. He wasn’t even gone and she was already missing him so much.

Sinking down next to him, she brushed his hair back from his face. He’d been worried he’d lose his hair, that dense, dark brown, but it hadn’t happened. Resting a hand on his cheek, she closed her eyes and took comfort in the fact that he was still here.

Still with her. For now.

Feeling the weight of somebody’s stare, she looked up and saw Chase standing near the door. She hadn’t even heard him get up.

Licking her lips, she stood and moved to stand closer. “Thank you,” she said softly. She grimaced and lifted her right hand, displaying her bruised knuckles. “For everything.”

“You love him a lot.”

She blinked. Okay, that had come out of nowhere.

“Yes. I do.” She hadn’t exactly expected to—when he’d proposed to her, she’d grabbed onto it like a life preserver. She hadn’t planned on falling in love with Roger, but it had happened. Somehow. Slowly. Along the way.

He’d always been there. Strong, silent, a steady presence in her life. He had
always
been there…and she had counted on him always being there. She couldn’t have been any more wrong.

With a shuttered look in his eyes, Chase looked past her shoulder to stare at Roger. “I’m sorry you two are going through this.”

“Thank you.” What else could she say?

He looked like there was more he wanted to add, but in the end, he just nodded and grabbed his keys from the table and left in silence.

She locked the door and went to the bedroom, changed out of her sweaty gym clothes. A scalding hot shower washed the sweat and grime from her body, the fog from her brain. After brushing her teeth, she grabbed a pillow from the bed.

She wouldn’t have many nights left with her husband.

She wanted to enjoy every last one that she could.

Chapter Four

“How is everything going?”

Zoe looked up at the doctor, tried to smile.

The nurses were drawing blood, doing their volley of tests and Zoe was waiting in the room while Roger pretended to be a human pin cushion. Wryly, she said, “How do you
think
everything is going?”

Dr. Sanders grimaced. “Not well.” Then he tipped his glasses down, studying her with probing blue eyes. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about? Any…problems of your own?”

“Like what?” she asked, meeting his gaze.

“Just wondering how things are going. In general. A brain tumor can cause…well, unusual behavioral changes,” he said quietly, still watching her face closely. “Mood swings, impulsive outbursts. Irrational anger. Has there been anything like that?”

Zoe surged to her feet and started to pace the small room. “Why
shouldn’t
he be angry?” she snapped. “He’s thirty-four years old and he’s dying. I’m fucking pissed off—he should be too.”

“I’m not talking about anger at the situation,” he said kindly.

“Then what
are
you talking about?” She stopped pacing and turned to stare at him. “What are you getting at?”

“I just wanted to know if you had any concerns,” he said again. “And…I want you to be aware, his issues with his anger will become worse, I’m afraid.”

A chill raced down her spine at the look in the doctor’s eyes. As her knees went strangely weak, she sank into her chair. “What…what do you mean?”

Tiredly, he cleaned his glasses. “Zoe, bear in mind, Roger has given me permission to discuss his case with you, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Earlier, when I did my exam, he had a few moments…”

The doctor’s words trailed off.

Zoe stared at him. Licking her lips, she whispered, “He was angry, wasn’t he? Like he wasn’t even himself.”

“Yes.” Dr. Sanders inclined his head. “It’s happened before.”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “It’s happened here as well. Other than today, it’s only happened once. Just be aware, it may get worse. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me, okay?”

“How—” She bit her lip, looked away. Lately, it happened two or three times a day, and when it was over, he was so tired after, he slept for an hour or more. It was like those brief moments drained him completely. “You say you think it will get worse. What do you mean?”

“I wish I knew,” he said quietly. “But I can’t say.”

 

 

A week later, Zoe slept next to Roger, a faint smile on her lips.

He’d had a good day—not even one of those black, ugly moments that darkened so much of their time.

Just a lovely, wonderful day. So wonderful, when she’d laid down next to him, he’d ran his hands along her body, delighting her. They hadn’t had sex in more than a month.

Man, she missed it. Sex with her husband was something she’d come to crave. She loved the feel of him, the weight of his body, the heat of his cock, the strength of his body.

When he kissed her, she almost cried from the pleasure of it. Giddy, when he lifted up, she pushed on his shoulders until he rolled over and then she wiggled down in the bed until she could take him in her mouth. He groaned and fisted his hands in her hair, muttering her name in a ragged, broken voice.

She teased him, teased them both and then moved up his body and straddled him, taking him deep, deep inside. As she started to ride him, she met his eyes and smiled down at him. “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you.” He tangled a hand in her hair and whispered, “My beautiful Zoe…kiss me.”

She did, tears burning her eyes as she bent closer.

When it was over, she had curled her body around his, their hands linked over his heart and she’d pretended, just for a little while, that everything was fine.

She carried that pretense even into her dreams.

Happy, sweet dreams.

It was just before dawn when those dreams turned into a waking nightmare.

She couldn’t breathe.

Brutal, hard hands closed around her throat, squeezing, choking the life out of her.

Scrabbling at them, she was dimly aware of a low, angry voice snarling in her ear.

“Fucking cunt. I’ve seen you staring at him—how can you do that? After what he did, how he treated you, but you pant after him like a bitch in heat?”

A nightmare, it had to be.

Because that was Roger’s voice, and he’d never hurt her.

She raked her nails over the strong, brutal hands at her throat, but it did no good. As the pain worsened, as her air dwindled, some latent instinct kicked in and she struck out, driving her hand upward, striking his throat.

He let her go and she all but fell out of the bed, sobbing.

Asleep. I’m still asleep.

But she could hardly breathe. It
hurt
to breathe. Barely able to see in the dim room, she hit the bedside lamp just in time to see him coming for her.

Naked, his eyes wild, he looked nothing like the man she’d married.

It wasn’t just the weight he’d lost over the past few years, although the cancer had eaten away at his once big body. Muscle and skin stretched over a long, lean body, skinny—too skinny.

His eyes, though, they were the biggest difference, and they terrified her. Wild…crazed. Insane.
 

In her raw, savaged voice, she said, “Roger, what’s wrong?”

“Whore,” he muttered.

Then he backhanded her.

He might have lost a lot of weight, but he was still so strong. The blow knocked her into the wall, her head striking it. She collapsed in a heap, the pain screaming through her. The shock shattered her, left her numb. Black dots danced in front of her eyes and for a moment, she lay there, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

Staring at the floor, she licked her lips and tasted blood.

Something moved just as the edge of her vision and she looked up.

Roger.

It was Roger.

She made herself look into his eyes…and just like moments earlier, they were the eyes of a stranger.

Dear God
.

Forcing her hands under her body, she shoved up. Fiery pain jabbed into her side, almost sending her back to the floor, but she ignored it. Keeping her back pressed to the wall, she edged around the room. The door. She had to get to the damn door.

 

 

It was weird, hearing the wail of sirens shattering the peaceful night in this small town.

Damn weird, but Chase grunted and with the ease of somebody who’d spent a number of years hearing sirens in the night, he pulled a pillow over his head and went back to sleep.

Sometime later, though, the phone started to ring and that wasn’t quite so easy to ignore.

Swearing, he grabbed it and squinted, recognizing his dad’s number. Dread rolled through him—Roger…

He answered the phone but it was nearly fifteen seconds before he could make himself say anything.

“Yeah.”

“Chase.” His dad’s voice sounded like he’d aged thirty years in just a matter of hours. They’d gone to the town’s lone sports grill just a few hours earlier. Had a few beers. Some wings. Talked sports, town crap…danced around the fact that one of his dad’s best friends, one of Chase’s oldest friends was probably weeks away from dying.

Weeks—Roger should have had more time. Fuck, this was going to shatter Zoe. It flashed through his mind, the memory of how she’d looked just over a week ago when she’d told him that she loved Roger. Jealousy had all but gutted Chase, but still, a part of him had been happy for her. He wanted her, but he loved her enough that he was glad she’d spent the past fifteen years happy.

Other books

Dirty Chick by Antonia Murphy
Family Pieces by Misa Rush
Danger in Paradise by Katie Reus
Being Me by Pete Kalu
Starlight by Debbie Macomber
What Came Before He Shot Her by George, Elizabeth
Manolito Gafotas by Elvira Lindo
A Meaningful Life by L. J. Davis
Arizona Homecoming by Pamela Tracy
The Wapshot Scandal by Cheever, John


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024