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I laugh as I throw my arm around her, pulling her close to my side.
“It only counts for kissing right?” I ask and in answer she bursts out laughing while we get into the elevator.
Chapter 13
Mia
I’m on my break and taking advantage of the hour to talk to Marcus.
I knock on his door and open it slightly, and see him standing by the huge windows, staring outside. Quietly, I push the door open and go in, making sure to shut it just as quietly behind me.
The thick carpet mutes my steps as go to stand next to him. For a while we say nothing as we stare at the beautiful view of New York buzzing with life below.
“I found out four months ago,” he whispers. “When my father shot me, they removed the bullet, but apparently fragments were missed. I have lead poisoning and because it’s so close to my heart, there’s only a thirty percent chance that an operation might work. If they don’t remove it, I’ll die. If they do try to remove it, chances are good that I’ll die.”
My hand trembles as I lift it to my mouth in shock. This can’t be happening. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity, while Marcus has a death sentence hanging over his head.
No, this can’t be happening. Marcus is too young. He has his whole life still ahead of him.
I can’t process the words. It feels as if I’m having an out of body experience, watching other people as they struggle to deal with the cruelty and finality of a life-threatening illness.
“Are they sure there’s only thirty percent chance? We can keep looking until we find a doctor who can help. Maybe they made a mistake. That’s possible, right? Doctors make mistakes all the time. Did you get a second opinion?”
Marcus turns to face me and I see the answer in his eyes before he says, “I’ve looked, Mia. The first month I found out, I was in denial, sure that they had to be wrong. Every doctor I’ve spoken to say the same thing. If it were caught earlier, my odds would’ve been better, but because I’m already dying, my heart won’t be strong enough to survive the operation.”
“There has to be something we can do, Marcus. You’re too young to die. You have your whole life ahead of you. This can’t be happening to you.”
He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I’m on a list for a heart transplant, but because I have O-negative blood type, it’s not the easiest thing to get a donor. Besides, I’m so far gone at this point taking a healthy heart would be a waste. Odds are good that my body might reject it.”
“No.” The word is loud, as if it’s being torn from me. “You have to keep fighting. You’re not dying, Marcus. You’re alive. We can find you a heart. We’ll find a way to make you stronger so you can survive the operation. You’re not dying.”
“Mia,” he whispers. “I know it’s not easy to hear. I am dying. Denying it won’t make it go away. I’ve accepted it. It is what it is.”
“It’s not fair!” I cry. “You’re only twenty-six.”
There’s a resigned look in his eyes, and that scares me most.
“Don’t give up, Marcus. You have so much to live for.” He pulls me into a hug, as I say the words over and over.
Marcus can’t die. I won’t let him die. Jax said he’s taking care of it. I’ll speak to Jax, and together we’ll find a heart for Marcus. We won’t give up.
“I love you with all my heart, Mia.”
I sputter the words back to him, wishing I could give him my heart.
~
After my pole dancing session which consisted mostly of me falling on my ass, I go to Marcus’ place. I haven’t been able to think of anything else since I left his office this afternoon. I can’t go on as if he’s not dying. If our time is limited, then I want to spend as much of it with him.
I knock on his door and wait a while before he opens. I’m shocked at what I see. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in years.
“Marcus,” I breathe, following him inside. His shoulders are hunched from death weighing on them.
I close the door and rush to his side. “Sit down. Is there anything I can get you?”
“I just took the meds. What are you doing here?” He leans back and only now do I notice all the weight he’s lost. He catches me staring and laughs. “The suit is padded to hide the weight loss. I get them tailor made so the guys won’t notice. I’m not ready to tell them.” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “I wear make-up like a fucking girl.”
I sink to my knees in front of him, placing my hands on his knees. I can feel how cold he is right through the material. I get up and go to his room, and when I see that the covers on the bed are messed up, I turn back to him. I take his hand and pull him up. Placing my arm around him, I help him to bed, and once he’s lying down, I cover him up.
