Olivia Cunning - Wicked Beat

Jon rolled his eyes. “You don’t need me, Eric. You could put your own band together in ten seconds. Any musician in his right mind would give his left nut to perform with you.”

“But I’m counting on you.” Eric shoved Jon toward the porch steps. “Get now. I need to chase off the rest of my guests so I can have time alone with my woman.”

“She’s good for you.”

Eric smiled. “You don’t have to state the obvious.”

Jon trotted down the steps and then turned to look at him. “Thanks.” He didn’t need to say more. Eric understood.

“Happy birthday.”

When Eric let himself back in the house, Rebekah was waiting in the foyer. “How did it go?”

Eric nodded. “I think he’s actually going to get his life back together.”

She reached up and cupped his face. “And I suppose you’re going to help him with that.”

“Nope. Just gave him a little incentive. My part in his recovery is entirely hands-off.”

“Good,” she said, “because I think it’s about time you put your hands on me.”

“I think it’s past time for that.”

Rebekah didn’t know what was worse, the actual MRI or waiting for the results. She and Eric played a word game against each other on their phones while she waited to be called to see her doctor. She was glad Eric was there to help her pass the time. Her stomach was in knots.

When they called her in, she left Eric in the waiting room. If it was bad news, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart. She’d have a few minutes to pull herself together before she had to tell him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” he asked, clinging to her fingers with one hand.

“I’ll only be a minute.” She kissed his cheek and followed the nurse to Dr. Palmer’s office.

The moment she entered the room, she knew it would not be good news. Dr. Palmer had two expressions. I’m on top of the world.

You’re going to die. He was wearing his solemn look at the moment.

“Have a seat, Miss Blake.”

She sat, or more collapsed. Her legs were like wet noodles.

“Your blood work looks great. CEA levels normal,” he said, but he didn’t offer a smile of encouragement. “The MRI…”

Oh God, please don’t say it. Please.

“There is a suspicious spot in your pelvic cavity.”

Fuck. He said it.

“I want to do an immediate biopsy to take a look. It might be an artifact or excess scar tissue or—it might be a relapse of cancer.”

Unable to speak, she lowered her eyes and nodded slightly.

“They’re prepping a room for you upstairs. If it is cancer, the faster we get you on chemo, the better our chances of beating it again.”

But if it was back, they hadn’t beat it. Not really. “I feel fine,” she said breathlessly. Well, she had. Now she felt devastated. She’d found true love, true happiness, and her body had betrayed her again.

“It might be nothing. Let’s do the biopsy and see what we have to deal with before we talk about treatment options.”

She nodded and somehow found the strength to climb to her feet and shuffle out of his office. The nurse told her where she should go for her biopsy, and then she went to find Eric in the waiting room. He looked almost as nauseous as she felt.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I need another test,” she said breathlessly.

She couldn’t tell him why. She just couldn’t.

“Why?”

“Because,” she snapped. “Doctors like to stick long, thick needles into my body, that’s why!”

“I have something long and thick I’d like to stick into your body.”

She knew that he was trying to cheer her up, but it wasn’t working. “Just shut up, Eric. I’m not in the mood.”

He looked like she’d slapped him. “Sorry.”

She squeezed her forehead between both hands, trying to stave off a threatening headache. “Let’s just go get this over with.”

They made Eric wait outside while they used some kind of machine to direct the needles they jabbed her with while collecting their samples. When they left her alone, she laid there on the examination table, staring at the ceiling to fight threatening tears.

They told her they’d have the results of the biopsy soon. Didn’t want her to leave in case they had to poke her some more. Her doctor had ordered her biopsy evaluation STAT, and there was a qualified pathologist on duty. At least she wouldn’t have to wonder for long.

The door opened and Eric appeared in the doorway. “Are you decent?”

“Unfortunately,” she muttered.

“I’m supposed to say that,” he said, settling beside her on the padded table. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. They sat there silently for a long while. “Are you okay?” he asked finally.

She shook her head, blinking hard, her lips pursed.

“Tell me, baby. Not knowing what’s going on has to be worse than the truth.”

“Worse than the cancer being back? I’d rather not know.”

“It’s back?” he whispered.

“I don’t know. They found a suspicious spot on the MRI so they did a biopsy to see if it’s cancer.”

“Everything will be all right, sweetheart,” he said.

She glared at him. “If the cancer has relapsed, nothing is all right, Eric. Nothing.”

“I’m here,” he said. “Okay? You beat this once. You can do it again.”

“I don’t want to go through chemotherapy again, Eric. It makes me so tired. I’ll be all sick and skinny. All my hair will fall out. I won’t be beautiful anymore.” She squeezed her eyes and swallowed. “Or sexy.”

Eric cupped her face in both hands, his thumbs stroking the tears from her cheeks. “Look at me, Rebekah.”

She forced her eyes open.

“You know I think your outer package is perfect,” he said, “but what’s beautiful about you is in here.” He pressed the fingertips of one hand to the center of her chest over her aching heart. He moved his other hand to the side of her head. “What’s sexy is in here.” He kissed her forehead, her temple. “I said I’d love you forever, baby.

That doesn’t mean I abandon you when you’re sick. If you’re too tired to get out of bed, I’ll carry you. If your hair falls out, I’ll…” He grabbed the long strand of purple resting against his collarbone. “I’ll cut this off and tape it to your forehead.”

She laughed, picturing herself with one long chunk of purple hair taped to her bald head.

“If you’re sick, I’ll take care of you. If you’re skinny, I’ll feed you every flavor of scrambled eggs you can imagine.”

“Okay, you’ve gone too far with that one.”

“What I won’t do is let you give up. I won’t bury you without a fight, Rebekah. And you’re going to have to do all the fighting, sweetheart. You have to be the strong one. All I can do is hold your hand and stand beside you.”

A movement behind Eric caught Rebekah’s attention. Her mother stood there with tears in her eyes. Mom grabbed Eric around the neck and hugged his head against her ample bosom. Rebekah laughed at his startled expression.

“How long have you been here?” Rebekah asked her mother.

Her mom smiled. “Long enough. Doctor Palmer told me you were down here and could probably use some support while you waited for your results.” She grabbed Eric by both ears and pulled him away from her chest to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much you love my daughter. I get… confused sometimes. I can see you now.” She ruffled his wild hair with both hands. “Not just the crazy hair and the tattoos, but what’s inside.”

“Blood and guts?” Eric said.

Rebekah laughed and hit him with a spare pillow.

“Well, no,” Mom said, looking a tad queasy. “I don’t really want to see that. I see that you love her unconditionally. I trust you to take care of her. It’s a big responsibility. She’s always been a difficult one.

You sure you want the job?”

Eric glanced at Rebekah and smiled. “I’m sure.”

“Well, hello Mrs. Blake,” Doctor Palmer said as he walked into the room. “How are you feeling?”

Mom turned and smiled. “Amazing. This new prescription has made all the difference. And my daughter is getting married!”

Doctor Palmer chuckled. “I kind of figured that out on my own.

Her engagement ring is huge.”

“And I want to be there,” Mom added. That was the real news.

Rebekah’s heart warmed. With Eric and her family’s support, she could get through another cycle of chemo if she had to. She stared at her doctor, feeling a strength she hadn’t possessed twenty minutes ago.

“Do you have the results of the biopsy?” she asked.

Eric grabbed her hand and squeezed.

Doctor Palmer beamed. “False alarm. The suspicious mass was just dense scar tissue and some entirely normal fibroblasts. No signs of cancer at all.”

Eric hugged her so hard, she thought she might pass out.

When he pulled away, he wiped his tears on the hem of his T-shirt.

“Looks like I won’t need your lock of purple hair after all,” Rebekah said.

He laughed. “Everything that’s mine is yours.” He looked at the doctor. “Can she leave now? We have an appointment with a justice of the peace in twenty minutes.”

“We do?” Rebekah asked.

“Yeah, just let me call and make one.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started searching the Internet for numbers. After a moment, he looked up. “Unless you want the big fancy wedding.”

She pondered for a moment. “Nope, I want a quick wedding and a big fancy reception and a lifelong honeymoon.”

Eric grinned and leaned forward to kiss her. His fingertips against her jaw, his lips tugged hers with gentle suction and incomparable tenderness. When he pulled away, he offered her a gentle smile. “Well, if you insist.”