Page 124 of Possession

I ignore him and pick up my pace. I need one thing right now and no one will be able to give it to me but Brax.

“Stop,” he growls under his breath.

I don’t. But when I get to Patty’s room in the long wing of the ICU, I stutter to a stop in the doorway.

She’s awake.

Tears stain her pale face as she stares up at her youngest son. She can’t talk because of the breathing tube, but her expression says a thousand words. Brax is holding her hand, but his gaze jumps to me. His dark eyes are glassy with relief. Some of the guilt and stress that I’ve felt in him all day is gone.

And his lips tip up when he shoots me the smallest smile. “Chica, come here and meet my mom.”

I don’t hesitate. I push away the anger and confusion that’s plagued me and move to the man who has had me tied up in knots since I met him.

In so many ways.

I go straight to his side, and he snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me flush to him. He looks down at his mother. “Mom, this is Landyn.”

Patty Cruz looks horrible. She should. She just endured open-heart surgery. Who wouldn’t look horrible?

She blinks her tears away and widens her eyes, her breaths come quicker through her tube.

“My wife,” Brax adds.

I suck in a breath as my eyes jump from Patty to him.

His dark eyes are possessive and different than what I’m used to looking into.

His stare on me means so much more. It might as well set me on fire.

* * *

Brax

Two years is a long fuckingtime.

I didn’t just take a new job across the country where I can call home anytime I want. I might not be dead like Brian, but I’ve been gone in every sense of the word. My family has had no communication and no updates.

It’s a good thing my mom was in the ICU when she opened her eyes to see me. If she hadn’t already had a heart attack, I’m afraid I would’ve given her one.

Surprise. Elation. Relief.

All while recovering from having her chest cracked open.

Maybe surprising her wasn’t the best scenario, but being there when she woke up was what I needed.

She’s been through hell. She lost Dad too early, and then Brian. I know I’ve contributed to her stress by leaving her for this long.

I talked to her for hours before they extubated her. When she could talk, she was exhausted from the pain meds. Before she fell asleep, I promised I’d be back once more before I had to get back to the world of cartels, mobsters, and one-percenters.

I didn’t add that last part, but it’s the truth.

The nurses assured me she’s doing as well as can be expected and needs to rest, and since it will be visiting hours soon, our time was up.

This feels no different than anything else I’ve done the last two years. Slinking in the shadows when it has anything to do with real life.

When I said I was exhausted, it’s not from lack of sleep.

I’m so fucking tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. My fake wife is the lifeline I needed to show me what I’m missing.

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