All The Beautiful Things (Love & Lies Duet #2) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,1

bed from where Dad sat with me. “It wears you out to go there.”

“I need to help.”

“You need to reserve your strength.”

“You need to help me help her.”

“Melissa—”

He sounded just like Dad. The same tone, the same inflection in his voice my dad had used only moments ago came from his lips. Except Hudson’s held more irritation than resignation and concern.

I reached out and squeezed his hand and ignored the way he flinched from how cold my hands were. Freezing. I was always freezing.

“Promise me. Promise me, Hudson. If there is something you or Dad can do to help her you have to.”

He shook his head again, lips pressed tightly together.

“You can’t say no,” I said, and wiped a tear from my cheek before tugging my comforter up further. “It’s my dying wish. You can’t refuse me.”

“You’re not dying.” His hand not holding mine slammed against the nightstand, making my medications rattle and topple over. I ignored the mess and his anger. It was nothing new.

I squeezed his hand. “I am and you know it.”

Ovarian cancer with epithelial tumors. By the time it was discovered, I was already stage four, where the tumors had spread further through my body.

“I won’t let you,” he said, so damn adamantly and with such arrogance. He believed it though. Up until a few months ago, I would have believed him, but now I could feel it. The coldness creeping in that had nothing to do with cancer and losing weight and chemo and an inability to keep food down. It was death. It was coming from me, slinking its way up my toes and fingers through my veins and marrow until it would take me.

I was ready.

But I had to help her.

“My dying wish. Please.” I searched both their faces. My heroes and my protectors. Always. Forever. My dad. My brother. The two most incredible men a girl could have ever in her life and just knowing that this girl didn’t have that hurt almost as much as the cancer eating my insides.

Everyone deserved men like the men I had in my life, the men who taught me how to be strong and confident while still protecting me when I couldn’t do it myself. The men who taught me how men should love women. The men who fought for me.

I needed them to fight for me now.

With a heavy breath and exhale, Hudson rolled his lips together. “What’s her name again?”

“Lilly. Lillianna Huntington.”

He nodded once and let go of my hand to stand from his chair and bent over me. He pressed his lips to my forehead and lingered. “You have always been a pain in my ass, you know that, right?”

I clung to his shirt and grinned. “And I will haunt you from the grave if you don’t do this for me.”

“I can’t make that promise, Melissa. Not now. Not today. I’m not ready.”

The words tripped over themselves on their way out of his mouth. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I knew what he meant, but I’d accepted my fate long ago.

I gripped my brother tighter to me. It took everything I had not to cry more tears. Cancer didn’t just kill the unlucky victims, it forced us to watch pieces of our loved ones die right along with us, and that was the most painful part of all.

“Sleep well, sissy Missy. I’ll see you on the other side. I love you.”

“Always.”

Hudson left then, pinching the bridge of his nose with his head down. He’d go cry and shed his emotions where I couldn’t see so he could be brave and strong the next time he saw me. I knew him well.

“I promise,” Dad said. His chin shook and his eyes were so damn sad.

“Thank you.” I sighed with relief, although I already knew he would.

Dad had already started looking into her story. He didn’t share that with me, but one day I went to use his laptop and found articles online. Of Lilly. Of her brother. Her father. The sentencing. He’d been searching for hours.

His gaze searched my face in a way that if I wasn’t already freezing, would send chills down my spine. Almost as if he could see my end coming faster than I could. “And don’t worry about Hudson. He’ll come around. Just give him some more time.”

“I know he will.” Because he was stubborn but full of heart and goodness like the man who raised us. Of that, I had no doubt. I sniffed, then laughed. “She’s