Free Eight Days (Love Always #1.5) by D. Nichole King

wake up.
    When I speak, my tone mimics his. Low and menacing. He made his point, now I will make mine.
    “You told me once that Kate was different. That her disease makes her different, and I want to tell you that you’re wrong. Yeah, Kate’s different, but it isn’t leukemia that makes her that way. She doesn’t let the cancer define her, and that’s what makes her so damn special.”
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Day 7
     
     
    Kate remained stable the rest of yesterday, and by the time Mr. Browdy left for the night, so had the nurse. Dad even made a couple extra appearances in Kate’s room after our fallout.
    I have a hard time sleeping, and from the sound of sheets rubbing together in the other bed, so does Marcy. Even though the Doc said Kate was in the clear for now, it does nothing to ease my mind.
    At three a.m. I stop trying to sleep. I scoop up Kate’s hand and hold it to my lips. The temperature of her skin has returned to normal, making slipping into bed with her difficult to resist. I don’t, though, because I don’t want to overheat her.
    Quietly, I slide my chair up so that I’m closer to Kate’s head. Even though I assume Marcy’s awake, I speak softly to Kate anyway. I’m beyond caring who hears.
    “We should go to Disney World,” I say, recalling the list of activities she wants to do. “My parents took Liam and me a couple of times when we were younger.” I snicker as a memory surfaces. “There’s this, uh, kids’ roller coaster that goes through a barn. It has Goofy and pals shape cut out as if they’d burst through the wall. I was six and Liam was nine, and he wanted to ride that thing so bad, but I took one look at it and freaked out. Mom said she’d go with me to the teacups again instead and Dad could ride with Liam on the evil roller coaster.”
    I smile to myself, thinking of what my brother did next. Even as a kid, he was fucking perfect. “But Liam said no. He didn’t want to ride on anything if I couldn’t go with him. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and told me he’d never leave me behind.” I pause as the image fades away. “We’ll ride that one first, Kate, with our hands high up in the air like it’s the scariest damn roller coaster there.” I puff out a laugh at the thought.
    I kiss Kate’s hand and press it against my cheek. It’s soft, smooth, and I’d give anything for her to curl her fingers around mine. I never knew holding someone’s hand could be so intimate, so utterly incredible. But that’s how it is with her.
    If only she’d open her eyes.
    Behind me, I hear Marcy shuffle around, and the bed creaks as she gets up. She rounds the end of Kate’s bed and sits opposite me, taking Kate’s other hand. Her lips purse, worry lines creeping from the corners of her eyes. For the longest time she doesn’t say anything. She simply gazes at her daughter, like at any second Kate could slip away from us forever.
    It’s then I realize that Marcy’s life has been made up of moments exactly like this one. Kate may be the one battling this disease, but the cancer has claimed other victims in its wake.
    My father’s words rip through me. He was right. Kate does deserve to be happy.
    And yet…
    “Sweetheart,” Marcy murmurs, interrupting my thoughts, “you can wake up whenever you’re ready. We’re here for you, okay?”
    I find myself staring at Marcy. At the tears glistening in her eyes. She’s wearing the same expression I’ve seen on my father’s face time and time again when he’s concerned over a patient and thinks no one is paying attention. Desperation.
    Marcy’s eyes lift to meet mine, and she smiles at me. “It should be soon, Damian. Your father took her off the thiopental.”
    I swallow. “He did?”
    She nods, hopeful. “Yes, earlier this afternoon, Tammy came in and switched her medication.”
    “This afternoon?” I repeat, thinking back.
    “When you left to get coffee?”
    That’s what I had told her when I