'Til Death - Part 2 (8 page)

He thrusts a blanket at me and I can just see him through my frantic haze.

“Where is she?” I bellow.

If she sees this . . . if she knows there was a woman near me . . .
no
.

“Who?”

“Katia? Don’t let her in here.”

“Fuck man,” Mack mutters, sitting beside me. “Dude, she left. Remember?”

Pain rips through my chest as I remember the look on my wife’s face as she walked out on me. No. She can’t be gone.

“No, Mack,” I roar. “Bring her back. Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Come on man, you’re fucked up. Let me get you home to sleep it off.”

“Tell her I’m sorry,” I rasp, dropping my head. “Tell her I love her. Tell her.”

“Marcus, bud, you’re not with it.”

I turn, clasping his shirt and shaking him. “Fuckin’ tell her. Tell her, Mack. Tell her I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Make her come back. Make her believe me.”

He shoves me off. “Pull yourself together. She’s gone. She’s fuckin’ gone, and you’re drowning with every fuckin’ minute.”

“Mack?” It’s Jaylah. His woman.

“Jay, not now.”

“Is he okay?”

“Not really.”

“Make her come back, Jaylah,” I rasp, tangling my fingers into my hair. “Somebody please, just make her come back.”

“Jesus,” Jaylah whispers as my world starts going blank again. “Poor man.”

~*~*~*~

T
he sound of my phone ringing raises me from my sleep. I blink, trying to clear my vision. My head is pounding and my stomach is turning. Memories of last night cause my stomach to twist angrily. I push up and reach over through the fading darkness to find my phone. I see my father’s number and my stomach drops.

Mom.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Katia,” he says, his voice low and broken. “It’s your mom.”

A sharp yet numbing pain shoots right up to my heart. My skin prickles. My ears ring. Everything seems to stop.

“Dad,” I croak. “
Please.”

“She had a stroke.”

A pained cry tears from my lips.

“She’s alive, but . . . Katia . . . they don’t think she’ll make it.”

I turn, shoving out of bed. “I’m coming, right now. I’m coming.”

“I’ve booked a flight; I’ll text you the details. It was the earliest I could get.”

“I’m coming,” I say again, frantically. “Dad, please.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes. “Hurry.”

I hang up and ring Dusty right away.

“Katia, what’s wrong? It’s like, four a.m.?”

“Mom has had a stroke,” I say, my voice a monotone, emotionless mess. “She’s in hospital and I need to go to her.”

“Jesus.”

“I need . . . God, I don’t know what I need.”

“Penny, let Candy and I take her.”

“No,” I say sharply.

“Katia, it’s a long flight and you’re going to be sitting in a hospital. It’s not fair.”

My emotions blur into a big mess, a mess I can’t sift through. “I can’t leave her,” I croak.

“This is for the best. We’ll take care of her; you know we will. Katia, your mom needs you.”

I close my eyes, clenching them, trying to ease the pain.

“Okay. I’ll be gone for a few days then I’ll come back.”

“Take your time. I promise you Penny will be okay.”

“I’m leaving soon. Can you come over?”

“I’m on my way.”

I hang up and turn to Penny. My heart burns. I want to take her. I can’t bear the thought of being away from her, but Dusty is right. It’s not fair to put her back on a plane and then expect her to sit in a hospital quietly. I crawl into the bed beside her, and I burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears.

I can’t lose my mom.

“S
he’s going to be okay,” Candy soothes, holding me close as I climb into the cab.

“Please text me all the time. I need to know Penny is doing all right,” I whisper.

“I promise.”

I stare at Dusty, who is playing happily with Penny. He looks up at me, blows a kiss and gives me a thumbs up. He’s trying to reassure me, but nothing feels right at the moment.
Nothing.
The cab driver starts off and I can’t even bring myself to wave at my friends. If I look back I’ll break down, and I can’t deal with that right now.

The ride to the airport is dull and slow, so slow that by the time we get there, I’m late. I pay the cab driver and step out. I’m about to step inside the building when arms go around my waist. I scream, thrashing as I’m dragged towards a car. When I’m thrown in, I turn and lunge, only to see Marcus blocking the doorway.

“You won’t talk to me. I’ll make sure you do. You’re not leaving, Katia.”

I open my mouth to scream that he’s got it all wrong, but he climbs into the car, pressing a hand over my mouth. He’s angry, his eyes gone far and beyond compassion. He leans forward and starts talking. “I’m not hurting you; I’d never hurt you. I’m doing this because you need to listen to me. You need to understand. You need to hear me out. What happened last night shouldn’t have, I know that, but I won’t deny how fucking good it felt to be with you again.”

Mom.

My plane.

I squirm but Marcus wraps his arm around me, holding me close. How did he know I was here? How did he find me? He needs to let me go. He needs to let me get on my plane. I thrash. I try to bite his hand. I try to scream words at him. He takes no notice of anything.

“Jesus, Katia, just listen.”

I close my eyes and thrash my head. I was already late when I got here; the longer he holds me, the more chance I have of missing my plane. That can’t happen.

“Katia,” he growls. “Just listen.”

I kick out and he presses his body to mine. “Did you think you could just leave? You can’t go without resolving this; I won’t lose you again. Please, baby, listen to me.”

My body jerks at his words. They hurt. They find somewhere deep in my soul I’ve kept hidden, and jerk at it.

“I can’t fix what I’ve done,” he says softly. “I can only try and make it better. You want me to give it all up to prove to you that you mean everything? I’ll fucking do it.”

I shake my head from side to side. Minutes have passed. I was late. I’m going to miss my plane. I take a breath and then kick out, hard. Marcus finally lets me go, and I scramble towards the door.

“Do my words mean nothing?” he barks.

I turn angry eyes to him. “My mother had a stroke last night.”

His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack. I shove the car door open, gather my luggage and run towards the doors. Marcus is behind me, keeping my pace. I run through security. I skid to my gate, only to find one woman there. My heart pounds.

“I need to get on this flight,” I cry.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. The doors have just closed.”

“Then open them!” I scream. “Please.”

“I’m sorry, I’m unable to do that. If you go and talk to reception, they might be able to reschedule for no fee.”

“My mother is dying,” I screech. “I need to be there now.”

“Katia,” Marcus says, putting his hands on my shoulder. “We’ll find you another flight. Come on.”

“She’s dying,” I wail. “She’s dying and because you held me up, I might not make it.”

He flinches, but keeps his voice calm. “You’ll make it. Come on.”

He turns me, and leads me back out to the row of clerks at desks. He begins talking to them, getting angry and waving his hands. I find a seat and drop down, putting my head in my hands. I’ll get there. I’ll get there
. I’ll get there.

“Katia.”

I look up to see Marcus kneeling in front of me. I turn away from the brown eyes that once meant so much to me.

“There’s a flight in just over an hour.”

I nod briskly.

“You’ll get there.”

I close my eyes and remain that way. The minutes tick by and when my flight is finally called, I stand without acknowledging Marcus and go through the gates. He calls my name, but I don’t turn back. I only have one thing on my mind.

Getting home to my mother.

~*~*~*~

“N
o,” I scream, falling to my knees.

“I’m so sorry, Katia,” Dad croaks. “She held on.”

“When?” I rasp. “When?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

Fifteen minutes
. Fifteen minutes
. I missed her by fifteen minutes. I missed the person who has been with me my entire life dying by fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes that could have been saved if Marcus hadn’t caused me to miss my flight. He didn’t let me on that plane; if I had have gotten on that plane, I’d have seen her. I’d have been able to tell her I loved her.

Marcus took something else from me.

“This can’t be real,” I croak, dropping my head.

My father’s arms go around me. “I’m so sorry.”

“I left her, if I didn’t go . . .”

“Don’t. You couldn’t have changed this.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I whisper hoarsely. “She died without knowing I loved her.”

“Baby,” Dad rasps. “She knew. I promise you she knew.”

“I wasn’t here,” I yell, but my voice breaks off halfway through.

My father pulls me into his arms and I break into pieces. My mother was my everything. She fought for my every breath, and I left her. I left her to fix something with someone who couldn’t care less about me. He stopped me from going to her. He stopped me from getting to tell her one last time just how much she meant.

The last piece of Katia I was holding onto snaps, and I drown in a pit of my own darkness.

H
er mom is dead.

Her mom is dead.

It’s my fault.

I was so wrapped up in my need to not let her go again that I didn’t realize I was holding her back from being with the one person who mattered to her. I kept her from saying goodbye to her mother. I kept her from those last, precious moments.

The pain in my heart is undeniable.

I took away her goodbye.

~*~*~*~

“S
he’s not coping.”

I stare out my window, listening to them all talk about me as if I’m not here. As if I’m just a ghost. Maybe I am. I no longer feel. Bitterness is lodged deep into my soul, and all I want to do is rip it out just to ease the pain. Marcus Tandem stopped me from going to my mother; he took the last precious moments of her life away. Now he has to pay.

It’s all I can think about. It consumes me day and night. Mixed with my grief is a brutal rage to make him suffer. I need to see him on his knees, begging for his life. I need to make him suffer, to make him feel so much pain he can’t cope. He took everything from me and he’s just walking around like nothing has ever hurt him.

“She’s not cried. She’s just sitting there, breaking.”

I’m snapped back to the here and now with Candy’s sad, worried voice. I don’t know why they’re worrying. I’m dealing. I’m coping. I’m doing what I have to do. I went back, I packed our things and moved into this house with Dad and Ford. I smile for Penny. I force myself to function every, single day. What more do they want from me?

“She needs time.”

That was my father.

“She needs help.”

That was Ford.

I close my eyes. I don’t need help. I need revenge. I need to tear Marcus’s world apart. I need to make him burn the way he let me burn.

“How’s things?” Wyatt asks, clearly coming into the conversation.

“Fine,” my father mutters. “What’s that?”

“Mail, redirected. It’s for Katia.”

“I’ll take it to her,” Dusty offers.

I hear his footsteps and a moment later, my door creaks open. I don’t turn. He walks in and clears his throat. I still don’t turn.

“Mail for you, sweetheart. I’ll just put it here.”

I hear him throw it down with a deep, defeated sigh, and then the door closes. I get up numbly and turn, walking over to the mail. Probably bills. My father paid for the funeral, but that doesn’t take away all the other bills that have accumulated over time. I flick through some of the letters, and stop when I see one from a life insurance place.

I tear it open and stare down at the words. It’s an update on our policy now my mom is gone. She was listed as one of the beneficiaries if Marcus or I were to die. Now she’s passed, they want an update. I stare down at the policy. I know we did it, but I forgot all about it. My eyes scan the words and I gasp when I see the amount I would receive if Marcus passed.

Five million dollars.

Five. Million. Dollars.

My bitter heart clenches, my hate for him running so deep it consumes me. He has to pay. He ruined my life. He took my mother away from me. He doesn’t deserve to remain. If he dies, I’ll get that money. I’ll be able to give Penny a life without heartache. I’ll have something to breathe for again.

I press the letter to my chest. I feel nothing. No guilt. No agony. No pain. No emotion. It’s all gone. I’m completely numb. I reach down for my phone and I’m doing something before I even realize it. I’m dialing Jaylah, a girl I met when I was with Marcus. A girl who is connected to Mack, a member of the Jokers’ Wrath MC.

These people could give me the information I want. Information to allow me to do this clean, without any chance of backlash.

Information on a hitman.

A hitman to take out my husband.

~*~*~*~

“I
t’s been a long time, Katia,” Mack says, staring at me.

“I’m home,” I say cheerfully. It’s the most fake I’ve ever been in my life. “It’s been a rough time.”

“Marcus is beside himself looking for you.”

I flinch, but I hope he doesn’t notice. “I need time. I’ll talk to him when I’ve had the chance to process.”

He nods, studying me for a long, uncomfortable moment. “Jaylah will be back soon.”

“Right, thanks. How have things been?”

He shrugs. “Fine.”

“How’re the boys?”

He smiles now. I understand that. The love for a child. It’s the most powerful emotion there is. Mack and Jaylah have two kids, Diesel and Jack. They’re gorgeous boys. “They’re doin’ really well.”

I force a smile. “I’m glad. How are things in the club?”