I’d intended it to be a quick but sweet hug. Then he wrapped those muscular arms around me and pulled me in tight.
I never knew what the heroines meant when I read in my books about feeling protected in a man’s arms. But now, with the way that Rome felt surrounding me? Yeah, I finally got it. I now knew what that protection they described felt like.
We stayed like that for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I wasn’t sure he was capable of letting me go.
Not until his son started to stir on the couch.
Only then did he drop his arms from around me and head to the chair beside the couch.
Leaving me to feel like I’d just lost something precious.Chapter 6With enough caffeine I can dress myself and use my big boy manners.
-Rome’s secret thoughts
Rome
The beginning of the end.
That’s what they say, anyway.
We—or I, since Tara was no longer around—knew that this was going to happen.
When the leukemia was diagnosed, the doctor was brutally honest and told us that his prognosis wasn’t good. But, he did say that kids were the most resilient patients and that if there was anyone who could fight this disease and beat it, it was Matias.
So, I didn’t give up hope. I tried my best to stay positive and strong. Until today.
Until I woke up this morning to a son who couldn’t even lift his head.
It was as if once I’d given him permission to stop fighting so hard, to let me take on the battle, he’d degraded exponentially.
It started with him not even waking enough to make it to the bathroom.
Then it degenerated from there.
Now I was on the phone with the doctor, keeping my end of the bargain that we’d made the day I left.
“We suggest palliative care,” the doctor had said. “As of right now, his body is too weak for any more treatments, and to be honest, the treatments haven’t been helping in quite some time. When he shows signs of deterioration, call me, and we’ll get him started.
Izzy, who’d kind of moved in since she came the first time so I could go to the doctor a week ago, was on the couch talking to Matias while I was speaking with the doctor about the hospice care in the other room.
Some of my club brothers were also over, but they were holding down the fort in the kitchen. I think they were here more for me than for Matias.
Even though they loved Matias, they didn’t know him well. It was hard to be around a kid knowing he was so sick. Plus, the fact that his immune system was compromised making it difficult to be around other people. A simple cold for them could be a deadly illness for Matias.
They never had a chance to know my boy.
But, as was my boy’s nature, he’d welcomed them all with open arms when he was allowed.
He already knew Liner, the hard-ass of the club, fairly well seeing as he’s lived next door to him for over a year now.
Bayou fascinated my boy with his hulking nature and brash personality.
But it was Castiel with his beard that truly fascinated my boy.
Then there was Wade, Carver, Rhett, and Ezekiel.
Seven men in total—at least currently in the state and not off working or roaming—were at my house, keeping watch.
Tyler had been and gone, unable to stay away from his job for long.
Reagan had stopped in without Tyler as well.
But it was Izzy, with her constant vigil at my son’s side and the taking over of almost every other duty—except for getting me to bed—that had been my lifeline through it all.
“I’ll contact the hospice,” Dr. Zapata promised. “They’ll probably call within the hour, and most likely, they’ll come right out within a few hours. They’re very good and discreet, I promise you. If you need anything more or have questions, I’m only a phone call away.”
After saying my thanks, I hung up and then shoved the phone back into my pocket, double-checking to make sure it was set to ring since I had been leaving it on silent lately so as not to disturb Matias’ sleep.
Once I entered the living room again, Izzy’s eyes found mine.
She raised one brow at me in question.
I nodded, knowing what she was asking me without her voicing it aloud.
We’d gotten good at non-verbal communication lately, too.
“Daddy, are you going to work?” Matias asked.
Was it me, or did his voice sound weaker, too?
I swallowed past a lump in my throat and shook my head. “No, Ty-Ty. I’m not going to work today. I have the next two weeks off.”
Matias didn’t ask why.
He knew why I had the time off just as well as I did.
It didn’t make it any easier to swallow, though.
My boy, my beautiful little boy, was dying.