Chapter 194
1208 Words
When Dean and Dallas walked into Dallas’ house, they were surprised to see Emma and Olivia sitting on the sofa, giggling and swilling champagne. Dean’s heart jumped, and he hoped this meant what he thought it meant.
“Hey,” Dallas drawled at them. “Is this a party?”
“Damn right,” Liv said. “Tell him, Em!”
“I’m in remission,” Emma told Dallas shyly. “Cancer-free.”
Dallas stared at her for a few seconds, totally stunned, then he whooped and grabbed her up in a massive hug. She held on to his muscled shoulders, laughing, as he spun her around and around. He set her down again, and just gazed at her like she was the most astounding thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
“That’s amazing!” he said, then turned to Dean. “Why the hell didn’t you say something, man?”
Dean looked at Emma, saw the worried look on her face. “Oh, I thought that was Emma’s job, you know? It’s her healthy bone marrow.”
She looked relieved, and flashed him a big smile.
“Yeah, that’s true.” Dallas bounded into the kitchen and grabbed two more glasses. “Champagne, Dean?”
“Hell, yeah.” Dean smiled back at Emma, happy to finally be able to celebrate the way that he’d wanted to since hearing this amazing news. “You’d better believe it.”
Two hours later, Dean and Emma headed next door, back home. She was stumbling a bit, and he grinned down at her as he took her arm.
“You tipsy, angel?”
“No. I’m actually smashed.” She gazed up at him blearily. “I think my tolerance for alcohol is shot to H, E, double-hockey-sticks.”
He laughed, thinking that she was an adorable drunk. “Come on. Let’s get you lying down. Last thing we need is for you to waste any of your time in remission in a full-body cast, huh?”
She nodded emphatically and hiccuped. “Uh-huh.”
He took her by the hand and led her down the hall to their bedroom. Dean undressed her, helped her into bed. She smiled at him sleepily.
“Normally, I’d ask you to join me in here,” she said.
He grinned. “Normally, I’d be there in a heartbeat. But I want our first time when you’re totally healthy to be when you’ve got the energy.”
“And I’m not drunk.”
“That too.” He pressed her head to his chest and dropped a kiss on her hair. “I have the day off tomorrow, so don’t make any plans, Emma. We’re going to spend the whole day in bed, celebrating.”
“Sounds good.” Her eyes gleamed up at him. “Sounds very good.”
****
It was already evening when Kat woke up slowly. She was warm and relaxed, and at first, she was puzzled at her calm happiness. Then she remembered: she wasn’t alone any more. She climbed out of bed, opened her bedroom door.
“Hi,” she said to Jim.
He glanced up briefly from his book. “Hi.”
She paused at the look on his face. He was distant and detached, and that surprised her. After what she’d shared with him, she’d have thought that they’d be closer now, not farther apart.
“What have you been doing while I’ve been sleeping?” she asked.
What Jim had been doing was working himself into a slow but steady rage at the man who had hurt Kat so badly. He averted his eyes, not wanting her to see the anger still simmering in them.
Jim shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. “Nothing much.”
Her brow wrinkled. “You OK?”
Jim stared at her now, disbelieving. She’d been through a living hell with that fucker – he’d raped her, terrorized her, beaten her, killed her baby – and she’d been on the run, alone and frightened for years… and she was asking him if he was OK? Then he realized that he was being a closed-off, unresponsive dickhead. Again.
God, Alden. You’re being cold and hard and you’re worrying her. Stop being such an asshole.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was still too gruff, and he knew it. “You?”
“Sure.”
Kat had no earthly clue what she’d done wrong. He was barely making eye contact with her, and he looked really pissed off. All she could think was that he’d had time to really process her story while she’d been sleeping, and now he felt uncomfortable around her. It was heavy, she knew, and now she’d placed lots of stress and expectations on Jim and the guys.
They now feel responsible for keeping you safe, and Emma and Jenny and Liv, too. God, you’re a selfish b***h. You have no right to ask this of them, and Jim knows it.
She bit her lip, turned away. Jim watched her walk into the tiny kitchen and put the kettle on the stove.
“You want some tea?” she asked, keeping her back to him. He could tell by her constricted tone that she was upset. Maybe even crying.
Cursing under his breath, he got to his feet. “Kat?”
“Yeah?” She still didn’t turn around.
“Can you just – can you look at me?”
She glanced over at him, her eyes bright.
“Goddammit,” Jim said. “Look – I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who dumped all this on you, and now you’re stuck helping me.”
He blinked. “OK, what?”
“You heard me.”
“Stuck helping you?” His voice was rising again, and she flinched. “Is that how you see it?”
She nodded.
“Come over here. Right now.”
She approached him, hesitated, stopped. “Yeah?”
“I’m not stuck with anything. Clear?” He moved closer. “Don’t you say anything like that to me, not ever again.”
Kat looked at her feet, totally confused now. “OK.”
“The thing is… well. The thing is that I have no idea what you need me to do, Kat. I don’t know what to say to you, what to do to help you. And I’m worried that I’m going to f**k it all up. Make it worse. Maybe even scare you.”
That startled the hell out of her and she looked up at him. “What?”
Jim ran his hand through his dark hair. “I’m not good at stuff like this, Kat. Leading anything, or coming up with a plan. I’m just – I take direction. That’s it, that’s all I know how to do. I can’t be trusted to think for myself.” His face was hard with his own self-loathing. “You have to tell me what you need me to do for you. I’ll do it, I swear… I’ll do any damn thing you ask of me, I don’t care what it is. But you need to come right out and ask. OK?”
- Writer
