BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Five

  BREATHE

  Part Five

  Jenn Marlow

  Copyright © 2015

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  “That doctor is a quack!” he shot out at me, as we crossed through the parking lot, leaving Dr. Lawrence’s practice.

  He walked fast, his body aimed in the direction of the car, stomping with every step. I could tell that he was furious already, but being Derek, he always had to go above and beyond. He loosened his tie dramatically and growled just before we reached the large black town car. Yep, he was pissed.

  “Maybe your brother is the quack!” I defended. Dr. Lawrence seemed to be the only one who knew what the hell he was talking about. “But we can get a third opinion!”

  “Great, let’s keep sending me to doctors!” he shouted sarcastically, pivoting around on his heel to face me.

  His expression was angry, his face red and boiling.

  “Well, isn’t it good to see what’s wrong with you?!” I shot back, not understanding why he was being a sarcastic tool bag anyway.

  “But see! That’s my point! Something is wrong, Zoe! Regardless!” he snapped. “If it’s not cancer, then it’s something else!”

  “Yeah, he said that something else was likely some sort of poisonous toxin!” I retorted, throwing my arms in the air. “So wouldn’t you like to first get a third opinion, and then secondly, if it turns out to be a poisonous toxin, find out how the hell it happened to you?!”

  “Right now you’re being the poisonous toxin!” he screamed, mashing his hair down, angrily just before yanking on strands, pulling them with fury. “You’re driving me fucking crazy with all of this! As if I didn’t have enough on my plate!”

  I stood, frozen, my heart on the ground. How could he have really said something like that when I was only trying to help him? I wasn’t the type of woman that usually had her feelings hurt so easily, but the magma in his voice as he spoke burned. “If that’s how you feel, then fine.” I turned on my heel and stomped away. “Deal with it on your own!”

  I didn’t know where my feet were taking me, all I knew was that I wanted it to be far away from Derek for the time being.

  “Leave me like you did the night I ended up in the hospital!” he bellowed, his voice sounding as if it was soaked in tears.

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned towards him once again. Was he really going to pull that?

  “I was the only one there!” I defended in a busting yell. I wasn’t about to take the heat for it again, or feel guilty for it again. I wasn’t about to let his shitty attitude hurt me anymore.

  “The point is, is that something is wrong!” he managed to continue to scream. I wondered how his voice wasn’t as sore as mine was, but then again, I supposed he was used to yelling more than I was. “And that something is wrong with me! Not you! You don’t know how I feel!”

  But I did understand…at least more than I let on. But I couldn’t say that. It wasn’t time to say that. It wasn’t time to tell him the truth about my dad.

  “Derek,” I breathed, trying to calm myself down.

  But instead of letting me continue, he spoke instead. “Zoe, you don’t just pass out in your own vomit, feel completely weak all the time, have jaundice, lose weight, and look like absolute shit every single day if nothing is wrong!”

  It was the first time I saw him finally admit that he was upset about it all—not just angry, but genuinely upset. He had already told me that he was angry; he had blown up at employees; he had blown up at me; he had blown up at everyone. Yet, he never admitted how truly upset he was, how truly scared he was.

  “Honey, something is wrong,” I sighed. “But you have to face that that something probably isn’t cancer.” I stepped closer to him. “I guess we’ll just see when he calls in with your results tomorrow.” Truthfully, I just didn’t want to fight anymore, but by his incessant pacing and blowing sighs, I could tell that he wasn’t quite to that level yet.

  “I guess we will!” he raged. “But you know what, you’re not going to be here to find out!”

  He seemed like a hormonal teenage girl. I hated to think it, but he was being ridiculous. I was calmed down; he should have at least been making an effort to do the same instead of continuing the argument. He should have been trying to calm himself, realizing that arguing about it all did it no good at all. And he shouldn’t have been trying to hurt me in any way that he could think of just because he was hurting.

  “Don’t do that,” I said, more patiently than he deserved. “Don’t push me into a wall and don’t try to hurt me just because you’re hurting.”

  I watched as he seemed to fight with himself, as his eyes met and then darted from mine. He took a deep breath and looked at the ground. At least his breathing was under control and he had quit pacing.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he sighed, his eyes pasted to the ground, his voice quivering with sadness. “It’s just that…we can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep acting like this is normal.”

  I felt myself jar at his words, hurt at his choice of them. I wasn’t going to pretend like everything was fine; I wasn’t going to act like it was normal. But I wanted him; and I wanted to be there for him.

  I wasn’t sure when it all transformed; I wasn’t sure when it was exactly that my emotions switched from pity to love, but they had. And I knew it now more than I ever had—even more so than when he lay, unmoving and unbreathing, on his apartment’s floor. I felt it more now because the possibility of losing him in a way completely unexpected had reared its ugly head.

  And his words were like bullets, piercing my skin, burning an intense blast into my chest, completely obliterating me and forcing only a hole to remain where my heart should have been.

  “What exactly are you saying?” I stammered. That question was all that I could even dare to manage.

  He looked up at me, at least giving me the courtesy of looking in my eyes as he tried to dump me. “I’m saying I can’t keep doing this to you. Cancer or no cancer, my life is completely fucked up.”

  It was true. His life was completely fucked up.

  “It was selfish of me to ask you to be in this with me in the first place,” he said and sighed.

  “Yeah, it was.” I agreed, the statement coming off a little more harshly than I had intended. I sighed, and he looked back down at the ground, and I wasn’t sure if it was shame or sadness—or even a mixture of both. It didn’t matter though. I took a step closer to him, though, and it became clear regardless. There was a pained expression that lived atop his face…and I could tell that he was sad. “But you know what?”

  He glanced up once again, a gut-wrenching sense of hope etched across his face.

  “I didn’t need you to ask; I would have fallen for you regardless,” I whispered, just before I reached out to take his arm. And it was true. Pitying only made me agree to a date;
it had nothing to do with me actually falling for him. “We need to figure this out together, okay? And if Dr. Freeman had anything to do with this, then we have to deal with it as it comes.” I cringed as it left my mouth. I was scared that he was going to lose it again. However, it had to be said.

  “Well, my brother has nothing to do with this; it must just be a misunderstanding.” His voice was calm but suddenly angry again, and I knew I shouldn’t push, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “I love you, but he’s your fucking stepbrother, Derek.” I defended.

  “That’s the same thing as a regular brother to me!” he shot, shaking my arm from his.

  “Fredrick says he’s always been terrible to you!” And then I was spinning all over again, reeling even. I had no idea what to say; it all hurt so badly. All I could do was continue to spatter out reasons for him to choose me over Dr. Freeman; everything he had done wrong to Derek, everything that I did right. “What has he ever done for you?!”

  “He has done plenty for me!” He was spitting with his words, again, angry as sin at me, and probably angry as sin at the world. He took a step towards me, his eyes blackened with anger. However, I didn’t care; I wasn’t going to step down. I loved the idiot, and I wouldn’t let someone take advantage.

  I never thought—in a million years—that I would worry about someone taking advantage of Derek. And beyond that, taking advantage of Derek’s loving nature. Because if knowing Derek taught me anything, it taught me that Derek didn’t have a particularly loving nature. He loved when he loved, but it was rare. But here I was, worried that Joey was taking advantage of his nature.

  Because it was obvious that Derek did care for him.

  Why? I had no clue, but he did.

  “Tell me what he’s done for you?!” I shot, taking a step forward with equal temper, staring him in the eyes—not wanting to break contact, not wanting to waver.

  And then I watched, as his eyes widened and his breath slowed and deepened.

  And then as quickly as he stepped forward in rage, he took a step backwards in fear and offense. I could tell that he was disappointed in himself for lashing out, for stepping towards me in rage.

  He got quiet.

  He looked sad, guilty even. About what, though, I didn’t know.

  “Derek, what’s the matter?” I stepped closer again. Why did he look so guilty? I reached out, but he held his hand up to halt my movements. I froze and looked at him, as he leaned against the driver’s side door.

  But he didn’t speak. He didn’t look at me.

  “Can we just go home?” he asked, sweetly, clearly trying to avoid any more arguments…and I nodded. I was probably readier than he was, especially considering he had tried to break up with me just a moment before.

  Chapter 2

  How could Derek have been exposed to poisonous toxins? It didn’t make any sense. I knew that I was jumping the gun a bit; the results hadn’t come back in, but it puzzled me. If it was a toxin, how could it have happened? And what sort of thought process did the doctor have? Because he certainly didn’t say.

  I balanced on the stepstool and reached above my head towards the ceiling. I held the testing strip at the area of the wall that met the ceiling and swabbed it.

  I had no idea what I was doing really, but that’s what Walter, the magnificent hardware manager, told me to do.

  As soon as we left the doctor, I dropped Derek off and went out to the hardware store to see if there was at all anything that I could do. I wasn’t sure if I thought it was really going to help, or if I really just needed to feel like I was helping.

  But regardless, I was at least keeping busy. I had to…otherwise I would have gone stir crazy. With the new information that kept flooding at me about Derek, I had to do everything in my power not to go insane. So doing anything—even if it was no help, in reality—was better than standing by and waiting for the phone calls to pour in.

  Derek didn’t have cancer. That’s what we were told. And there were signs of toxins….And because the doctor didn’t say what kind of toxins, or give any indication other than the fact that it wasn’t mold, I wanted to test absolutely everything else that I could.

  And lead poisoning was the only other thing I could think of. I wasn’t a doctor, and I wasn’t a scientist. I had no clue what else could have been the problem…So I bought a do-it-yourself kit to test for signs of lead paint.

  As I struggled with my arms above my head, I heard rustling and footsteps sound from the distance. The steps were growing louder and louder until I realized that they were headed towards me.

  My head snapped over my shoulder, my body stiffening, until I saw Fredrick round the corner.

  He smirked at the doorway, leaning against the molding, staring at me. “Hey, Fredrick…” I breathed, not really understanding how standing still with my arms above my head was really causing me to become winded.

  I must have really been out of shape.

  “What are you doing?” Fredrick asked, walking up towards the stepladder. I heard his steps as they grew closer, until they stopped, and a small shake of the ladder was felt beneath my feet. I glanced over my shoulder, and he was holding onto it. I wondered if he was—like me—scared to death that I was going to fall.

  “Testing for lead in the paint!” I called from behind me.

  “There’s not any lead here, honey.” Fredrick chuckled. “This apartment is brand new.”

  I sighed. He was right. The test strip read negative.

  He reached out to grasp my hand and helped me step down off the ladder. “Thanks, Fredrick.” I smiled. “Well, it’s definitely not anything he eats; we eat almost every meal together, and I’m perfectly fine.” I was talking to myself more than I was Fredrick, but it didn’t take me long to realize that Fredrick didn’t know what in the hell I was even talking about.

  So I told him.

  I told him that Derek’s good-for-nothing doctor misdiagnosed him, and Dr. Lawrence suspected poisonous toxins in his system, which was what caused his illness. I told him everything, but I didn’t receive the reaction that I thought I would.

  He nodded, slowly, but not entirely hesitantly.

  He didn’t seem surprised.

  “Does he want to get a third opinion?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m sure he will. We’re waiting to hear back for more results, but afterwards, I’m sure he will want a third opinion. Anything to prove that Joey didn’t do anything wrong.” I rolled my eyes almost instinctively just by muttering his name.

  Fredrick nodded again, but my mind was already off, launching and reeling into outer space.

  “If it’s not lead; it’s not mold; it’s nothing he’s eating or drinking…then what the hell could it be?” I was more so just speaking out of my head and to myself, rather than actually asking a question but Fredrick found the need to respond anyways.

  “Better question is, why the hell did Dr. Freeman say that he had cancer?” he grumbled. But it was far from just a question. He was insinuating something. And I was almost scared to ask what it was that he was insinuating. “Sounds to me like something is going on there, and with him and nowhere and no one else.”

  “You think the answers lie with Joey?” I asked, my brows furrowing. I wanted to know if he was insinuating what I thought he was.

  “I think everything is that asshole’s fault, so that’s up to you to decide.” I could tell he didn’t want to say what he was really thinking. And I shuddered, hoping that he didn’t think what my crazy mind had already concocted.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know you’re serious, honey, but there’s gotta be a reason he said he had cancer, and I would like to know what it is.”

  Fredrick was right. I had to question the original source of misinformation. I had to question his intentions.

  And I felt it pang in the pit of my stomach; the suspicion that something wasn’t quite right with him immediately flung to the forefront of my mind, and it did nothing b
ut cause me to deduce the worst.

  Joey had to be doing something to Derek.

  And I felt like Fredrick thought the exact same thing.

  I mean, sure, in Fredrick’s as well as Joey’s defense, Fredrick never actually said that Dr. Freeman was doing anything to Derek, nor did he say that he suspected it. I knew in reality that I had to come to the crazy conclusion all on my own, but there was something about the way that Fredrick spoke that made me know that he thought the same….

  I just knew it.

  I wanted to say that it was all so obvious because Derek had gotten so much worse since his diagnosis. However, everyone got worse after their diagnosis. Everything was on a downhill slope once you were diagnosed with cancer. And with chemotherapy, everyone’s body was rocked to its very core and broken down from the inside out.

  Everyone felt like shit after beginning chemo.

  It was the reality.

  So, no. It wasn’t obvious. No matter how much I wanted to think it was.

  And I wanted to be wrong, but there were so many clues pointing to the worst.

  And my distrust for Dr. Freeman weighed heavily as I recounted them.

  Hell, even one small thing that had always seemed to baffle me, was weighing me down, burdening me with horrific thoughts. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered that Dr. Freeman never—not even once—gave us updates on whether or not the chemotherapy was even working.

  It was an aggressive disease, sure, but didn’t doctors usually give people updates on whether or not treatments were working?

  As far as I knew, Dr. Freeman hadn’t said anything at all.

  And hell, it all made sense now that we knew there wasn’t even any cancer to battle to begin with!

  No cancer; yet, Derek’s organs were beginning to fail—and Dr. Lawrence thought it might be because of some sort of toxin! So I guess the main question on my mind was, was Dr. Freeman poisoning him? Was he feeding him some sort of toxin?

  And if he was, what the hell did he have to gain from hurting Derek?