Fatal Knockout (Knockout Series Book 1) Page 6

  Silently, we lay entwined in each other’s arms until the doorbell sounds. Reluctantly, we disentangle our limbs and stand. He drapes his arms across my shoulders as we walk up to answer the door. “Blaze?” He picks his wallet up from the table and answers, “Yeah, babe?” I wrap my arms around him. “I know our lives haven’t ever been normal, but tonight, can we pretend it is?” He smiles and lifts his hand to the side of my face. “I promise to make tonight 110% abnormal, for us,” he chuckles. Which means tonight, Bentley is a cancer free, normal boy and Papa isn’t really gone. “Thank you.” Blaze opens the door and pays the delivery guy, and I go into the kitchen to fetch us three bottles of water. When I return to the living room, Blaze is leaning back against the door with three large boxes stacked in his arms. “What are you doing?” He shrugs. “Being normal, duh, Madisyn.” He rolls his eyes and smiles a lopsided grin. “Pizza in Bentley’s room?” I look down at his hands. “Pizza in Bent’s room after you wash all that dried up blood off your hands...”

  It takes us over an hour to get Bentley to eat an entire slice of pizza, and almost half an hour to brush his teeth and get him to take his medicine. Once Bentley is back in bed, Blaze and I go down and order us a movie, Do You Believe. “Dr. Kessler wants to see Bentley tomorrow,” Blaze tells me as the previews play. I frown. “But, tomorrow is Papa’s funeral. I have to pick Memaw up from the hospital, pastor wants to meet with me before the service, a—and I can’t be in—” He presses his finger to my lips. “Don’t. I know exactly what you’re trying to plan, but it isn’t possible. You can’t be in two places at once, sweetheart. Bent’s appointment is at 10am, the same time we’re going to be holding Memaw’s hand as she says bye to her husband.”

  I remove his finger from my mouth and shake my head. “No. We’re not going to be holding Memaw’s hand, I am. You have to be with Keisha and Bentley. I can take care of Memaw.” He cups the side of my face and I lean into his touch. “I know you can. But, who’s gonna take care of you if I’m not there?” I lift my hand up to cover his and squeeze. In order to convince him that I’ll be fine tomorrow, I have to bring up the most painful memory either of us have. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I mean, I made it through Eli’s burial, didn’t I?” Instantaneously, he slips his hand around to my neck and pulls me to him. “Barely,” he breathes. “Barely counts. If I made it through that, then I can make it through anything.”

  ***

  Blaze and I waited up for Keisha last night. After she ate her pizza and took a shower, the three of us sat up until 2am and talked about today’s plans. I followed Blaze up to bed, but sleep didn’t find me until ten minutes before my alarm sounded. Careful not to wake Blaze, I slip out of bed and go down to start the coffee. Albeit Blaze is against me drinking caffeine, I’ll need lots of it to get through this long day.

  As the coffee brews, I text Dawson and ask if he’ll pick Memaw up from the hospital. “Morning,” Keisha yawns, hopping onto the island countertop. Setting my phone down on the counter, I reach inside the cupboard and take out two coffee mugs. “Mornin’, sunshine.” When the coffee is finished, I lift the pot and fill our mugs to the rims. With her knotted hair and red eyes, it’s easy to see that I wasn’t alone in my restlessness.

  Putting my own feelings aside, I put a smile on my face. Yes, losing a loved one hurts, but there’s nothing more devastating than watching your child suffer. I circle the steaming java beneath her nose and sing, “It’s extra bold.” She takes the cup from my hand and smiles. “You better hope Blaze ‘The Craze’ doesn’t come down and catch you drinkin’ this,” she snickers, looking down into her cup and tracing its rim with the tip of her finger. She closes her eyes, lifts the mug to her mouth, and moans as she takes her first sip.

  I expect to see all sorts of emotions stirring behind her eyes when she reopens them, but I don’t. All I see is defeat. “I was wondering…” She trails off and looks to me with a somber expression and quivering lip. “When does too much become enough?” She sets her coffee down and jumps down from the island. Setting my cup aside, I get on my tiptoes and hug her neck. Then, I hold her at arm’s length and stare into her desperate eyes. “I don’t have the answer. I’m not sure anyone does. All I know is that little boy is stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He’s going to fight tooth and nail for his life, and so are we. This recurrence isn’t the end for Bentley. He’s been through more than any one person deserves to, but he’s going to be a testimony to others in his situation,” I tell her.

  Keisha pulls me close and hugs me tight. “You’re right. I don’t know what we’d do without you, Mads. And I’m really, really sorry for what I’m about to do,” she whispers. When she lets go of me and steps back, she picks up my coffee and pours it down the drain. I gasp and whisper shout, “I don’t even know you! How could you do that to me?” She giggles, a true giggle. Then, she takes in a breath and gets all serious. “Everyone thinks it’s Blaze who holds us together, but he isn’t… You are.”

  Eight

  Blaze

  Maddie rests her warm, trembling hand on my hip and kisses my cheek. “I’m leaving, babe.” I take my hand and grab hers before she’s able to walk away. Then, I roll onto my back and tug her down on top of me. “I want more than a pathetic peck on the cheek,” I rasp. She pinches her nose closed and shakes her head. “No way, not with that breath.” I reach out to the nightstand next to our bed, pull the drawer open, and get a piece of gum to pop into my mouth. “Morning breath? I think not, baby,” I blow my minty fresh breath in her face. “I guess not,” she sighs dramatically. She holds her hair back behind her ears and leans in to kiss me. I kiss her deeply, passionately. My hands travel along her sides until they reach her hips and I can switch our positions.

  Careful not to rest my weight on her growing belly, I place my body between her legs and use my forearm to hold my body up. Then, I slide my other hand down the outside of her thigh and hike her knee up around my waist. Her fingers tug at my hair, roughly. Instinctively, I grind my hardness against her. She moans and wraps her other leg around me. I slip my hand under her silky soft tee and use the back of my knuckles to tickle her skin as I make my way up to cup her breast. My lips barely touching hers, I ask, “Want me to take it away?” I know it’s only a temporary fix, but in moments like this—just the two of us tangled in one another’s embrace—our love overshadows all, death loses its sting, and cancer ceases to exist. With teary eyes, she breathes, “Yes, baby.Take it, please.”

  Removing my hand from her breast, I grab the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head. My mouth attacks her neck as I reach between her breasts and unclasp her bra. She arches her back and sails her fingers into the waistband of my briefs, and she uses her feet to help glide them down my legs. I trail feather-like kisses down her stomach as I lower her pants. But, as soon as I get her thong down her thighs, a car horn sounds. “That would be Dawson… and Memaw. I’m sorry, babe. Tonight?” Without speaking a word, I pick my cell up from the stand and call Dawson. “Hey, Blaze. Will you tell Mads—”

  “Listen, man. Mads is running late. She’s getting in the shower now, so she shouldn’t be too long. You and Memaw come on in and have a cup of coffee with Keisha. I’ll have Maddie down to you soon.” Before he can object, I hang up and shut my phone in the drawer. “No, not tonight, sweetheart.” I slide her bottoms the rest of the way down and toss them aside. “Right now,” I growl, thrusting into her. Gasping, she tosses her head back, digs her nails into my shoulders, and whispers, “Right now is good...”

  Maddie and I join everyone out on the front porch, more than half an hour later. “It’s about time,” Dawson complains. I grin and Maddie slaps my arm. “Keep grinning like that and they’ll know what I was really doing,” she says in a hushed tone. Little does she know, Keisha’s standing directly behind us and just heard everything she just said. “I already know, and so does Dawson. Why do y’all think we’re sittin’ out here and not in there? Next time you want someone to believe you’re
in the shower, try turning on the water.” Keisha pats us on the shoulder and walks over to sit by Memaw on the porch swing. “That girl has mad sexar skills. Seriously, who listens close enough to hear if the water is running?” I laugh and kiss her forehead. “My sister and your brother, apparently.”

  Dawson helps Memaw stand from the wobbly swing. “Mads, we really need to get going. We’re already late,” he sizes me up. Maddie stands on her tiptoes and kisses me swiftly. “Love you, baby.” She turns away to follow her brother, but I grab her wrist and turn her back around to me. She eyes me curiously. “If you need me, you call. Understand?” No matter the amount of love I have for our family, Maddie knows she comes before anyone. I hate being torn between who I need to be with and who I should be with. Fortunately for me, I have a selfless wife who decided to make the decision for me. “I’ll call you if I need you, promise.”

  ***

  “Good morning,” Dr. Kessler greets, reaching out to shake our hands. “How are you doing, Bentley?” Bentley just shrugs. “You like to color, right? Nurse Ashley brought in some new coloring books this morning, would you like one?” Bentley looks over the young nurse who followed Dr. Kessler inside the room. “I want Nurse Kayla.” Bentley tells him. “I’m sorry, buddy," Dr. Kessler sighs. "Nurse Kayla took some time off to visit her family. But, if I remember correctly, Nurse Ashley mentioned something about having a few suckers hidden in a drawer under her desk. Oh, and I have a roll of new stickers, too. Who did you tell me your favorite superhero was? Spiderman? Iron Man?” Bentley shakes his head. “No, sir. I like them all, but those aren’t my favorite.” Dr. Kessler snaps his finger. “That’s right. It’s the Hulk, right?” Bentley gives him a weak smile and nods to tell him yes. “Well,buddy, you're in luck. I have a fresh roll of Hulk stickers.You can have them all if you want, but you’ll have to go with Nurse Ashley to get them.” Bentley cocks his head to the side and eyes Dr. Kessler, quizzically.

  Standing from the chair I’ve been sitting in for over an hour, I pick Bentley up from the exam table and he circles his arms around my neck. “Dude, how could anyone turn down suckers, coloring books, and an entire roll of superhero stickers?” I ask him. “What’s your favorite flavor?” Ashley speaks up. “Umm...I like watermelon,” he answers her. “Ah… watermelon happens to be a favorite of mine, too. Come with me and I’ll get you one, maybe even two,” she wiggles her brows. He releases my neck and I lower him to the floor. Hesitantly, he takes her hand and follows her out of the room.

  Dr. Kessler opens his laptop and begins to pull at the knot in his tie. His face is flushed, and if I’m seeing clearly, he’s sweating. “As both of you are aware, we had to test Bentley’s blood before we could begin the consolidation therapy. Unfortunately, a large amount of immature white blood cells reappeared, more now than there were when we discharged him from the hospital. His red cell count and platelets are low, but not critical enough to proceed with a transfusion.” Keisha starts to cry and Dr. Kessler stops to hand her a box of tissue. I take two or three from the box and wipe her face dry.

  I drape my arm across my sister’s shoulders, letting her know she isn’t in this alone. “So, where do we go from here, doc? Does he need a higher dose of chemo?” He drops and shakes his head. He looks up at Keisha with glistened eyes. “We begin the process over again. Bottom line is he needs a stem cell transplant. If we can’t find a donor—” “He’ll die,” Keisha snivels. “Those aren’t the words I would have chosen, but yes, it is a possibility,” Dr. Kessler confirms. “Jesus,” I hiss, pulling at my hair. “Miss Benson, I know we’ve discussed this before, but have you considered reaching out to Bentley’s father? If there’s any chance Bentley could have a half brother or sister, maybe they would be willing to have their tissue typed.”

  He pauses and uses his stool to roll over and open the door. He whispers something to whoever is behind it. Seconds later, one of his staff hands him a Styrofoam cup filled with water and he offers it to Keisha. “I already had my nurse call over and reserve Bentley a room on the oncology unit. When was the last time he had something to eat?” Keisha takes a sip of water and sniffles, “He ate half of a cereal bar on the ride over.” Dr. Kessler lifts his wrist and studies his watch. “Hmm. I’d say by the time he gets registered and into his room that he’ll be fine to have the procedures,” he tells us. “What procedures?” I don’t remember him saying anything about more “procedures”. "I'm sorry... Procedures?" I question.“Unfortunately, yes. He needs intrathecal chemotherapy into his cerebrospinal fluid to kill off any cells that may have spread to his brain, Mr. Benson. This is something Bentley has been through several times before,” he explains.

  Doc closes his computer and stands. “I’ll give you two a moment to calm down before I send Bentley back in. And, Miss Benson?” Keisha looks up at him. “When you first came to me, I promised to always be honest and straightforward with you, and I apologize if I’m overstepping my boundaries by saying this, but it has to be said. Whatever happened between Bentley’s father and you, I highly recommend you put it behind you and find a way to contact him. Your son’s life is on the line.” Instantly, Keisha turns to me and gives me an “are you going to let him talk to me that way” sort of look. Though I’m fighting the urge to tell him to piss off and mind his own business, Bentley is his business and he’s right. So, I shrug and tell Dr. Kessler we’ll take care of it.

  Keisha and I decided when Bentley was born that I’d be the man who raised him. There wasn’t a need for her to file for child support from Zane, because I would do whatever it took to make sure Bentley had all that he needed. Bentley needed a man for a role model, not a coward. Any man who would ask his girl to “take care” of the pregnancy isn’t a man at all—he’s a boy. But, what choice do I have now? I can pay for Bentley to have the best treatment and top notch physicians, but I can’t buy stem cells or marrow identical to his. Now, for Bentley and the life he’s yet to live, I’ll swallow my pride and find his so-called “father”….

  While Keisha finishes the registration process for Bent, I decide to call Declan to check on Maddie. “Hello,” he answers quietly. “Hey, Dec. How’s my girl?” I hear him cover the speaker and excuse himself before he answers me. “Surprisingly well. I mean, she hasn’t even shed a tear,” he tells me. “And Memaw? How is she holding up?” He sighs. “Honestly, she isn’t. She collapsed during Amazing Grace and she won’t let go of his casket.” My heart contracts, because I know my wife isn’t as strong as she’s letting everyone believe. “Do me a favor, will you? Look at Maddie, really look at her.” He’s quiet for several moments. “Now, look down at her mouth,” I instruct. “Oh-kay…” I ask him, “Is she biting the right corner of her bottom lip?” Maddie has several nervous ticks, but chewing on the right side of her lip is a sign that she’s on the verge of having an emotional breakdown. “Yup. She’s chewing a hole right through it.”

  “I thought she might be. Listen, Bentley has been admitted to the hospital, again. But, he won’t be placed into a room for another hour or so. Stay by her side until I can get there,” I demand. “You won’t make it here in time. They’re loading her papa into the hearse as we speak. Just stay at the hospital and I’ll get her to you as soon as the service is over.” I pull the phone away from my ear and let Keisha know that I’m going to pick up Maddie. “I’m on my way,” I tell him, quickly ending our conversation.

  Madisyn may have everyone else fooled with her tough girl façade, making them believe she’s intact and not falling to pieces. But, I know differently. I am the only one who sees through her like she’s made of glass. She needs me. I’m a fool for thinking—even for a second—she didn’t.

  Nine

  Madisyn

  Memaw’s hand trembles in mine as her pastor quotes First Thessalonians, a scripture that tells us not to be ignorant about death or grieve like those who have no hope. Papa lives even though he died. We’re asked to take one another’s hands and join him in praying the Lord’s Prayer. As we
all begin to pray, Memaw slips her hand from mine and stands. I stop praying and watch her as she walks up to the casket and takes Papa’s hand in hers. I look over to my brother, silently asking him what we should do. He keeps hold my hand and urges me to stand. He walks us up to stand beside Memaw, where we place our hands onto her shoulders. She’s weeping, and my heart can’t take much more. I’m trying to be strong, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold myself together. And seeing my parents’ headstones, one plot over from where my grandfather will be put to rest, brings back unwanted, heart wrenching memories of the last time I saw my parents’ faces.

  Memaw leans over the casket and whispers into Papa’s ear. Then, she lets her lips linger on his forehead and she kisses him for the last time. Pastor approaches us and lets us know it’s time to close the casket and lower Papa. Dawson and I stand with Memaw between us, our arms behind her back, holding onto one another as we support her weight. When the casket shuts, my breath catches in my throat. As they begin to lower Papa into the ground, my knees buckle. But, before I hit the ground, strong and familiar arms wrap around my waist and lift me up. “I got you, baby,” Blaze breathes. I turn in his arms and bury my face into his shirt. He kisses the top of my head and says, “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go.”