Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,3

look at all shocked, but instead nods thoughtfully. “She mentioned something this morning. Let me get you the numbers for palliative home care, and I’ll warn Dr. Abawi. He’ll probably pop in to talk to all of you.” She copies a few numbers from a Rolodex on the desk to a notepad. “Why don’t you make your calls in the waiting room? There’s no one in there right now. I’ll keep an eye on Mrs. Thomas.”

“Thank you.” I take the piece of paper from her hand and slip into the empty room, closing the door behind me.

Forty minutes later I have twenty-four-hour care organized starting tomorrow afternoon, and Lisa is looking into getting a hospital bed installed in the living room on short notice.

I walk into Nicky’s room with a plan in hand, but come to a dead standstill when I see some stranger with a head full of dreadlocks bend over her bed.

“Hey!” I call out, and the person whips up and swings around. “Fuck me,” I whisper when I recognize the face that is burned in my memory.

Last time I saw it was right before Spencer was born.

“I asked her to come,” Nicky says from the bed, her eyes on me, but her hand clasping her sister’s tightly.

Chapter Two

Taz

That voice.

Goosebumps break out over my skin as I swing around at the sound. The softly whispered fuck me when he recognizes me almost has me running.

The thirty-eight hours and four airplanes it took me to get here—from the small airstrip by the clinic to the international airport in Kinshasa, via Paris to New York, and finally Springfield—left me too much time to think. I’d reconsidered the wisdom of the split second it took me to make a promise I hadn’t really thought through all the way.

The man who has my hair stand on end was one of the main reasons I almost changed my mind.

Damn, he looks good. A little gray in his whiskers and a few more lines in his face, but otherwise he’s still the same Rafe I first met nine years ago in my parents’ kitchen. The same deep blue eyes pin me in place.

All I can hear is the blood rushing through me, but I realize Nicky must’ve said something when his gaze flits to the bed behind me. I turn around. Shame instantly floods me when I see the mere shadow of my perfect sister lying in the hospital bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rafe finally says. “Need I remind you of the last time she decided to show her face? You were a mess for months.”

I wince at his description of my last visit home five years ago. Nicky catches it and shoots me an apologetic smile. I instantly realize she hasn’t told him the reason why I left in such a hurry and never returned.

“Well, I don’t have months now. Besides, that was not Taz’s fault,” she defends me, but Rafe won’t hear it.

“For the life of me I don’t understand how you can stand up for her. You forget I lived through the aftermath.”

“You don’t know everything.” Nicky’s voice is weak and her eyes tired. “I need her. I can’t do this without her.” Her hand finds mine and she grabs on as the first tears I’ve shed in years start rolling down my cheeks “Please, Rafe,” she pleads. “I need you to back me on this.”

His eyes soften on her, before turning to me with suspicion and concern. It fucking hurts, but I lift my chin and stare him down, my sister’s fragile hand in mine strengthening me.

Rafe’s only answer is a curt nod.

The reason why a united front is necessary becomes clear when, half an hour later, Mom walks in the room pushing my father in a wheelchair, a sight that shocks me.

She stops right inside the door, clutching a fist to her chest when her eyes land on me.

“Out,” she growls, and the single syllable is like a dagger in my back. My gaze darts to my father whose face has gone slack.

“Mom…”

Nicky’s plea goes unheard as my mother narrows her eyes on me. “How dare you show up out of the blue. You broke your father’s heart.”

Not even my sister’s surprisingly firm hold on my hand can give me the strength I need for this face-off. I’ve been traveling for days with little to no sleep, endured barbs from the one man who has the power to injure me, and haven’t even begun to process that