Written in the Scars(86)

“No, I’m making it up,” I giggle. “Yes, really! I’m pregnant, Ty.”

He pulls me to him, nearly suffocating me. Giggling, I try to pull back. “I can’t breathe!”

He lets my face loose, but then smothers it in kisses. His lips are still swollen from the accident, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing me senseless.

I settle in beside him again, noting the smile etched on his face. It’s inked on mine, as well.

“Mr. Whitt?”

We look to the doorway. A man is standing there with a large manila envelope in his hand.

“Are you Tyler and Elin Whitt? This is room 5431, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ty says. “What can we do for you?”

“I’m with Blackwater. My name is Hugh Umbrose. How are you tonight?”

“Better than I have been.”

“Well, I’m actually here to see your wife.” Hugh hands me the envelope. I sit up and take it. “This is a copy of Cord McCurray’s papers. He listed you as his next of kin.”

I drop the papers onto the sheets. “What?”

“You are listed as his next of kin. As far as Blackwater goes, you are in charge of his business.”

I look at Ty and he just smiles.

“But we aren’t . . . I mean, I’m not his family,” I say, picking up the envelope again. “Not by blood.”

“Sometimes family isn’t made by blood, Mrs. Whitt. Sometimes it’s a choice, and Mr. McCurry chose you.”





TY


My reflection stares back at me in the mirror. I don’t look bad, just a little cut here and there. My hair needs trimmed and my limp is back pretty heavily, but there are no lasting effects of the accident.

Not physically, anyway.

I lay my tie around my neck and wait for Elin to come and do it. I’m not even going to f*ck with it. Not only because I won’t get it right anyway, but because I like her attention on me.

I need it.

I crave it.

She’s the only thing that keeps me together.

Sleep has become my enemy. I wake up in cold sweats, sometimes from seeing Cord’s face slip into the darkness, sometimes as I feel the earth shake beneath me and listen for the rocks to start falling. Jiggs has this problem too. They say it’ll go away eventually. Maybe. Either way, I can deal with it because Cord gave me the chance.

I smile as I think back on his life. No one loved him like a parent, no one loved him like a husband. Yet, even with the absence of that kind of unwavering affection, he knew it.

I’m proof.

It’s made me realize how selfish we are with our emotions. How we blame other people for the decisions we make or the lack of opportunities we have and how stupid that is. Cord had an excuse to get out of anything; he had the hardest life of anyone I know. Yet he never used it as a crutch, and he didn’t let it keep him from choosing love. Even if he didn’t realize it.

“Hey,” Elin says from behind me.

I turn to see her. Her eyes are puffy.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, reaching out and cupping her cheek.

She sighs. “I felt like I should go through that envelope from the hospital,” she says. “And I found this.”

She holds up a piece of paper that stills me. It’s white notebook paper with smears of black.

“Cord wrote this while you were underground. And it has my name on it,” she whispers.

I fold her into my arms and rest my chin on her head as I remember us writing them. I had no idea he was writing to her, but I can’t say I’m surprised. “Does it say anything important?”

She pulls away. “I’ll read it to you:

“Well, this sucks.”

She laughs at the little stick person in a state of obvious frustration that was clearly drawn for her amusement.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think down here. I’ve thought about a lot of things, but I keep coming back to what you said about everyone’s life having a purpose. I’m sitting here in this hole the size of a small room with water freezing my toes off and your husband and brother making me crazy with their bickering and I’m wondering—how in the hell did I get here? Maybe my purpose in life is to be tormented by them *s. Both of them.”

Another stick person makes her giggle and she looks up at me, then clears her throat before continuing.

“In all of my life, you made the biggest difference.” She looks at me, needing a second to gather herself before continuing. “Even growing up, as kids, you showed me how to fight for people, how to stand up for what’s right. You never knew it, but a lot of who I learned to be was by watching you and the empathy you had for people, even in times that were hard. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

Her voice cracks and I grab her hand and squeeze it.

“I want you to know that I’m going to do everything I can to deliver your family back to you. And if I don’t make it out of here, I don’t want you to be upset. I mean, cry, because that feeds my ego a bit, but realize that maybe this was my purpose in life, like you said. And if that’s the case, I’m okay with that. I really am. Remember that story I told you once about “insane decisions”? This one was premediated. Remember that. Always.

Life’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for damn sure. But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and this, my friend, won’t kill you. But I don’t know how much stronger you can get.