A Heart Decision (20 page)

She stared at him a moment, her mouth agape. “But
you could be throwing everything away needlessly. Maybe you aren’t
a carrier.”

Did she think he hadn’t considered that possibility
every day of his adult life? That he hadn’t wondered if he was
pushing her away for no good reason?

He dropped his head back and gazed up at the ceiling
while he spoke. “Right before my brother died, he confided that he
was experiencing some early symptoms. I’m ninety-eight percent sure
his overdose was deliberate. Since then, every time I’ve been
unable to think of a word, lost my temper, or one of my muscles
twitched, I’ve wondered if Nicco had truly been symptomatic or if
fear had given him an overactive imagination. He was only eighteen.
What was the likelihood he would’ve developed symptoms that
young?”

“So he was never tested?”

“No. After we lost him, my mom encouraged the rest
of us to get screened. The three girls and my brother Joe did, and
thank God they’re all fine.”

“So why didn’t you and the twins get tested?”

What could he say? That the big bad cop who went
skydiving and drove racecars at two hundred miles an hour had a
foot-wide yellow streak down his back? Death he could handle.
Becoming an invalid was a whole different story.

“I don’t want to know.” Luke looked away and
shrugged one shoulder. “I guess the fifty-fifty odds intimidate me
as much as they do Sebastian and Gabe.”

“And you believe because four or possibly five of
your dad’s eight children escaped, statistically, you, Rick, and
Gabe are destined to get it?”

Put like that it sounded fatalistic. However, that
was exactly what he dreaded. He knew that every child of an HD
carrier had his or her own fifty-fifty chance of inheriting it. But
in a larger statistical analysis, including everyone with a family
history of the disease, the odds
would
give him and the
twins a sixty-two percent likelihood of testing positive.

“You’re a hypocrite, Luke. You say it’s easier to
hope you’ll be okay, but you’re living your life as if you won’t
be. Either have the test or stop living in fear.”

That was easy for her to say. Sure, the test could
tell him whether he’d be able to lead a normal life in five or ten
years, but if it proved he wouldn’t, he’d spend every day wondering
if it was his last good day.

“I’m not living in fear. I’m just not willing to
make it harder to face, when the time comes, by inflicting myself
on a wife and children.”

Sabrina put her arms around his neck. “Luke, I love
you. Whether you’re my husband or not, I’m not going to let you
push me away.”

If she knew how close he was to letting her into his
life, she’d never back off. “Damn it, Sabrina, stop it!” he
hollered. “You don’t have any idea what it’s like for me. You told
me you’d leave me alone if I answered your question.”

She dropped her mouth open in mock surprise. “My,
my, my, what a temper. I guess you really
must
have it.”

“Ha-ha. That’s almost as funny as your supposed
brain tumor.”

“Just for the record, I never said I had a
tumor.”

“No, but you certainly led me down the path of
insinuation with your little ploy of dropping everything. Don’t
think I’m going to forget about that cruel little farce of
yours.”

“I sincerely hope you don’t.”

He gulped at the predatory gleam in her eyes as she
flipped up the armrests on his wheelchair. “Maybe, if you think
back to how you felt when you believed I was sick, it’ll make an
impression in that hard head of yours.”

He’d rather eat a plate of worms than think about
how helpless and desperate he’d felt. As she hitched up her skirt
and straddled his lap, facing him, his traitorous body pardoned her
for giving him the scare of his life.

“Mmmm....” She wiggled against him. “I guess your
noggin isn’t the only thing hard on you.”

“Yeah, well some parts of me are more forgiving than
others.” He turned his face away to evade her kiss. “I know what
you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work.”

She scooted back on his thighs and the zipper rasped
on his fly as she slid it down. She freed his erection from its
tight prison and grinned. “It’s not?” She circled the tip of him
with the pad of her finger, and his rigid flesh twitched in
response. “It seems to be working fine.”

Damn her. If he didn’t hold on to his fury, he might
do something stupid like asking her to move in with him.
Unfortunately, his broken ankle meant he couldn’t simply go out and
jog off the intense desire coursing through him.

“Fine. You want it this way?” He yanked open the
buttons on her blouse, scattering them everywhere, and released the
front clasp on her bra. Grabbing her breast with his injured hand,
he jerked her forward on his lap with his good one. “I could use a
hard screw right about now.”

He shoved the narrow crotch to her panties aside and
aligned himself with her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled
her slick heat down on his throbbing erection.”

“Yes-ssss,” she hissed as he nipped her erect
nipples and furiously jammed her aroused body up and down on
himself, deeper and harder with every upward thrust of his
hips.

Each time he drove into her, she moaned louder. “Oh,
yes. That’s it. Show me how mad you are. Punish me!”

He’d hoped to burn off the adrenaline she’d started
flowing, but her goading and cries of intense pleasure simply
opened the floodgates, sending a rush of excitement and energy
through him that rivaled the power of Niagara Falls.

Even after she shuddered and her endless climax
squeezed tight around him, he persisted in pumping her body up and
down in a mindless frenzy of need—faster and harder. Her arms
snaked around his neck while her hungry mouth searched for his.

“Oh, no. You’re not finished, yet, baby.”

“Oh, really?” She giggled. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll
accuse you of police brutality?”

Never before had he taken a woman with such primal
abandon. But then, no other woman was capable of making his blood
boil the way she could.

Damn her for showing him what it felt like to be on
her side of the fence and making it harder to push her away. He
didn’t need her causing him to second-guess his life decisions.

He continued thrusting into her in time with her
excited shrieks, making her come not just twice but three times
before he finally vented all his rage and frustration. He finished
in a fierce orgasm so long and powerful it took the metallic, salty
taste in his mouth for him to realize he’d bitten the inside of his
lip and drawn blood.

As he dropped his head back, exhausted, Sabrina
snuggled against his chest and whispered into his neck, “I love
you, Luke. I’m sorry I upset you, but I couldn’t think of any other
way to make you believe I want to be with you, no matter what.”

Stroking her back, he dotted her face with
feather-light kisses. “I understand, Princess. Really, I do. But if
you ever do anything like that to me again, so help me, I’ll spank
you until—”

“As much as the idea of that turns me on, I won’t. I
promise.”

If only he could find a way to help her understand
how he felt, too.

Luke lifted his head and noticed the puppies sitting
in the doorway looking at them as though they’d watched his and
Sabrina’s entire passionate performance. It figured the hairy
little voyeurs would choose that moment to show their scraggly
faces again.

“Don’t think I’m going to forgive you two so easily.
You can bet you won’t get any dog biscuits from me tonight.”

If Sabrina had to choose between Luke’s rage and
forgiveness, she’d take his anger any day. At least when he was
mad, he spoke to her. Granted, it was in the decibel range just
below shouting, but even so, he communicated in some fashion.

He pushed his empty plate aside after scarfing down
two helpings of hamburger stroganoff and green beans. “I’m sorry
I’m not better company tonight.”

After silently helping her load the dishwasher, he
scooted upstairs to his second floor wheelchair. He couldn’t have
made it clearer he wanted to be alone if he’d hung a
do not
disturb
sign on his nose.

Luke’s wrist had healed enough to maneuver the
wheels on the manual chair himself. In fact, he’d gotten so
self-sufficient, she dreaded the moment he would insist he didn’t
need her help any longer.

With that inevitable heartbreak on her horizon, she
threw herself into a cleaning frenzy. Once the smell of
disinfectant and lemon oil permeated the entire first floor, she
strolled upstairs to coax Luke into joining her in the living
room.

She tapped softly on his study door. “Would you like
to watch a movie with me?”

“I’m reading, Brina. Give me some space,
please.”

She heaved a sigh and wandered into the bedroom to
take a shower—
alone
.

A wrinkled piece of stationary lying on the bed
caught her attention. She picked it up and scanned the letter
Luke’s dad had written to Nicco, explaining why he’d ended his
life. Evidently, Luke wanted her to read it.

Dear Nicco,

I would’ve preferred to let you and the rest of the
kids believe my death was an accident, but it’s important that you
all know why I ended my life. I had to do it this way so your mom
will still get my life insurance, which won’t be a lot, but it
should be enough to keep the house and feed all of you.

Your mother knows I’m sick, but I lied to her about
what’s really wrong and the seriousness of it. I couldn’t bear to
tell her I’ve possibly condemned her babies to the same hell I’m
going through.

If I’d known I was carrying an abnormal Huntington’s
gene when I fell in love with your mom, I don’t know if I could’ve
married her. But I can’t regret the best fourteen and a half years
any man has ever known or having the eight greatest children ever
born.

I hate myself for not having had the guts to end
this before I beat your brother yesterday. I just pray one day
he’ll be able to forgive me. I don’t want you kids to remember me
as the monster I’ve become.

If I’d tried to explain to your mother why I have to
do this, she would’ve tried to talk me out of it. And loving her as
much as I do, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

I know it isn’t fair to lay this responsibility on
you, Nicco, but I doubt Luke can see things objectively after the
brutal way I hurt him. I’ve no doubt he was wishing me dead in the
ER last night, and I don’t want him to feel guilty about it.

You’re nearly as old as your brother, so I hope I
can rely on you to keep this letter to yourself and give your mom a
chance to finish grieving. Let your brothers and sisters grow up a
little more before you share the horrific future they may face. You
can let them read this whenever you think they’re ready. I pray by
the time any of you have to endure this nightmare, they’ll have
found a cure.

Please make sure Luke knows how sorry I am, and how
much I love him as well as the rest of my children. And help your
mother understand that, despite how much it hurts me to leave her
so soon, I have to. When you truly love someone, his or her welfare
and happiness become much more important than your own. Tell her
one last time for me how deeply I love her.

I trust all of you and God will find a way to
forgive me
.

Love,

Dad

Sabrina swiped at the tears streaming down her
cheeks. Luke was right. She didn’t have the vaguest notion what it
was like for him to live every day as if his head was in a
guillotine. Life was hard enough for him without her making it
worse by pressuring him into something he wasn’t comfortable
doing.

The phone on the night table rang once and stopped,
indicating Luke must have answered the call in his office. Two
minutes later, he wheeled himself into the bedroom, wearing a
shell-shocked expression.

“Who was on the phone?” she asked.

His mouth opened and closed several times before he
managed to choke out, “T-Tyler hit his head and is in a coma.”

~*~

Sabrina inhaled the familiar odor of the hospital
and struggled to maintain her composure while she comforted Annie
through the night in the surgical waiting room.

When she’d called Ben last evening, she discovered
he’d flown to Los Angeles on business. He’d promised to come back
as soon as they could fuel up the corporate jet.

Luke slumped in his wheelchair staring at the floor
and glancing at the clock every few minutes. She
didn’t
blame him for not speaking to her. The very
real threat to his best friend’s life made her charade yesterday
afternoon seem crueler than ever.

Fortunately, Annie had called the kids’
pediatrician, David Lambert, to get a recommendation for the best
neurosurgeon in the area. It turned out, David’s ex-wife, Brianna,
had recently become involved with her doctor, Marc Huntley, from
the Mayo Clinic, who was in the process of moving his practice to
Pennsylvania. As a favor to David, Dr. Huntley had agreed to
perform Tyler’s surgery.

“I don’t know what to tell the kids.” Annie sobbed
on Sabrina’s shoulder. “Dorothy says Noah blames himself.”

The best Sabrina had been able to piece together
from Annie’s hysteria was Tyler had slipped in a puddle of milk
Noah had spilled and cracked his skull on the granite
countertop.

“Just explain their daddy bled a little inside his
head and the doctor has to operate to relieve the pressure on his
brain.”

“So what is this Glasgow score Dr. Huntley was
talking about?”

“It’s a test for determining how deep a patient’s
coma is by assessing his best eye, verbal, and motor
responses.”

This was another one of those times when she
regretted her medical training. She couldn’t bear to share with
Luke and Annie how high the mortality rate was on patients with
Tyler’s score or that, if he survived, he had a good chance of
having permanent brain damage. She’d let the doctor give them that
bad news.