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“Yes, I am your son, Dad. I need to know. Mom, I’m not an oncologist. I’m an emergency doctor. A trauma doctor.”
“Well, your father having cancer is an emergency!” she exclaims, tears flowing freely now as she storms off. Her sobs echo down the hallway.
“Jesus, I told her not to say anything. Kane, I’m fine,” Dad says, attempting to reassure me, but I can see the emotion in his eyes. “I found a lump in my neck a while back and went to see the doctor about it.”
“And?” The word catches in my throat.
“They ran some tests, and it turns out it’s thyroid cancer.” Dad takes a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Now, don’t be too alarmed. The doctor says it’s treatable, especially since we caught it early.”
I feel a weight lifting, but the fear is still there. “Thank God for that. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“The best thing you can do for me is to mend your relationship with your mother. She’s driving me a little crazy.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks for coming up, son. It means a lot.”
A sigh, long and shaky, wrestles its way out of me. “I’ll do what I can, Dad.” I stand, my hand out for the expected shake, but he’s up, too, pulling me into a bear hug that feels like a vice. I pat his back, lost in a whirlwind of emotions that claw at my insides.
“I love you, son. Take care of yourself and bring your lady up here so we can meet her,” he says, his voice cracking.
“Will do, old man, I love you.” It’s all too damn much. I make for the door, feeling his eyes on me, and I swing it open, only to look back at him, tears in his eyes. “Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Tell Mom I said goodbye, and I love her. See you soon.”
“You got it! Be safe out there, Doc.”
The door closes behind me, and I smile. It’s bittersweet. Doc, that’s what Maggie calls me. I wipe the tears angrily from my eyes, the unpleasantness of the moment stinging like salt in a wound. The ride back to Angel Harbor’s gonna be a mind-fuck.
But now, with my sights set on making Maggie my wife, I know what I have to do.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Maggie
Nova hasn’t come to see me or talk to me, and honestly, I don’t expect him to. What would be the point? We both said what we had to say, and there’s nothing more to be said. I’m not all about the big goodbyes anyway. And if a part of me was, well, Nova’s cold rejection shot it down. Story of my fucking life. Not good enough.
Same old song, just a different dance.
Nova wants me, but not more than he wants to be with his biker brothers. That’s all I need to know, and even now, I’m pissed at myself for getting angry, for getting emotional.
Men don’t handle feelings. Oh, they can try, but after dealing with fucked up men my whole life, I’ve learned a thing or two.
So, what if I’ve fallen for Nova? It’s my problem, not his.
It doesn’t matter that he’s got my heart, that I handed it to him like a fucking fool. It doesn’t matter that thinking about him sets my insides on fire and leaves me aching like I’ve been punched in the gut.
He made his decision, and I made mine.
A knock sounds on the door, but I don’t say anything. Whoever it is will come in or not, no matter what I do. Seconds later, Letty steps inside with a plate in her hand. “Hungry?”
Starving. “Nope, I’m good.”
Sadness flashes in her eyes, but she lets it, giving me a look of resignation instead. “You have to eat.”
“I will, as soon as I’m free to go.”
She sets the plate down, her hands on her hips. “No one’s holding you prisoner, Maggie.”
A bitter laugh escapes. “So I can leave?” She sighs, giving her head a small shake. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
