Page 55 of Under Control

“I don’t think she is,” she said.

His eyes shifted to the nurse and his stomach convulsed.Lauren isn’t going to wake up? What the hell?His mind tried to process it, but he just couldn’t.

“She stopped chemo because she knew she was almost there,” the nurse explained, holding on to his arm and looking up at him empathetically. “She just wanted her last days to be… well, without any drugs except those that keep her comfortable. Those were her wishes. We are still with her—right up to the end.”

The end—the words pierced Carrick’s mind and he felt something snapping…something changing. He’d lost a lot of friends through the years in the war, but he’d never expected to lose his girl in a fight that he couldn’t do anything about.

I can’t save her.

He refused to accept it.

“She should have taken the meds. She should still be awake,” he panted, his voice distant and distraught. Finally, his voice cracked, “I need her to wake up.”

She was still going to wake up. She had to.

He felt the nurse squeezing his arm tighter.

“She can’t die. I never got to say…” Carrick choked then sealed his mouth. He couldn’t fucking talk anymore.

His throat made a bizarre noise and the nurse immediately pulled in his stiff body for a bear hug. She must have been a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter, but the strength of her hug was undeniable. The strength of a nurse… He folded like a fallen soldier into her—dropping into something he hadn’t felt for a while.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Chapter Twenty-One

Carrick

Carrick heaved the last black duffel bag into the back of his pickup truck and stalked around to the driver’s door. His movement was heavier and angrier than he wanted to show, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer. The situation was all fucked up, and he was running out of the patience to deal with it.

A vibration came from his cell phone in his pocket, and he whipped it out. Delta was texting him again, and the message wasn’t good—a shit storm had started that morning. Carrick gritted his teeth together as he read the words.

Lovely day today. Received several threatening calls from her daddy, and now I’ve got lawyers chasing you down for breach of contract. Hope you are having a great time at the beach.

Carrick ran his fingers over the cold glass of the phone, a knot twisting in his chest. He shouldn’t have fucked off yesterday. He should have been there. He was asking too much of his friend.

Well, fuck. I’m on my way back. I’ll deal with the critical issues. Do me a favor… Go home and get some rest. You’ve done enough for me.

Carrick jumped up into the driver’s seat of the truck.

Slamming his foot on the pedal, he pulled out of the San Onofre State Beach parking lot, hearing Danica squeak beside him with the powerful movement of the truck. Everything was silent between them and had been so for an hour since they’d finished packing up camp on the beach. He reached over and flipped on the radio, finding some boring news station that wouldn’t make him crazy.

But very clearly, he realized that was fucking unavoidable.

“Can you drop me off at the train station?” Danica asked, sending him over the goddamn edge.

He practically snapped the steering wheel in half from the pressure of his grip. Heat rising up his throat, he turned his head to snap at her.

“Where the hell are you thinking of going?” he grunted.

“I don’t know yet,” she slouched in her seat, avoiding his gaze.

“Jesus Christ.”

Carrick clenched his jaw in disbelief as he found a way onto the highway. They were about an hour’s drive from his place at Sunset Beach, but the train terminal was less than halfway there at one of the bigger beachside towns.

He could drop her off and be done with all the bullshit—let her deal with it in her own way, which was absolutelynotgoing to work. He gripped the wheel harder, hating how deep he’d gotten, knowing that getting out now wasn’t realistic for him—and there were many, many reasons why that was.

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