Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

She nodded against his chest. “I want to take a quick shower first. I’m gross.”

“Baby, in the morning. These bouts always make you so tired you can barely stand.”

She looked up at him, eyes still so green after all their years together, but now they were tinged with pain. Pain that was always present these days. God, he’d do anything, fucking anything to take it all away from her.

“You’ll hold me up. You always hold me up.”

“Damn straight, beautiful.”

He stood, then helped her to her feet. As predicted, she was a weak, unstable mess. After brushing her teeth with his arm firmly around her waist, she started to draw her nightgown over her head.

“Let me,” he whispered, working the silky fabric over her head as he helped keep her steady.

“I’m so scrawny,” Cassie whispered as she turned to face the mirror. “Look at me. Skin and bones.” She cupped her breasts, no longer full and perky as they’d once been, shaking her head.

She sounded so dejected.

Viper flipped the water on in the shower, stripped out of his sweatpants, then fit his body behind hers, staring into her eyes in the mirror. For the first time since the initial crying jag after her diagnosis, Cassie looked seconds from shedding tears.

She was right about being extremely skinny, she’d lost nearly twenty pounds since being diagnosed with lymphoma, twenty-pounds she didn’t have to spare, but her beauty hadn’t faded a bit to his eyes.

“My hair is starting to fall out too,” she whispered, choked up. This was the first time she’d expressed concerns like this to him and Viper’s heart literally broke.

“Baby,” he started.

Cassie shook her head, eyes glistening. “I’m sorry. I know these are stupid things to worry about right now, it’s just…” She sighed.

“It’s just what, Cas?”

“It’s just hard enough with the chemo, and exhaustion, and the feeling like shit all the time, and the constant fear. On top of it all I have to look like a hairless skeleton.”

From behind her, he cupped her breasts, lifting the much thinner and less firm flesh than they’d both enjoyed throughout the years. Flicking his thumbs across her nipples, he smiled at her soft gasp. “Yes, you’ve lost a significant amount of weight. And you will probably lose your hair, we were warned about that, but, baby—” he pressed his erection into her low back, “—it isn’t physically possible for you to not be beautiful. Or for me to not react to your body. It’s just who you are, a gorgeous woman, inside and out.”

The tears finally escaped her eyes. “You have to say that. You’re married to me.”

He snorted. “You think so? You know how many men out there go looking for it elsewhere because they aren’t attracted to their wives after more than twenty years of marriage? We’ve both seen enough fucked-up couples to know I don’t have to say shit just because you’re my wife. I say it because it’s true. And if you don’t believe my words, believe this,” he said, nudging her with his erection once again.

Her hand flew to her mouth as a sob burst from her. She spun, wrapping her thin arms tight around his waist as she finally, finally allowed herself a moment of sorrow and grieving for all the changes in her life. Hot tears hit his skin and flowed down his chest. Steam filled the bathroom, cocooning them in warmth, and dampening his skin along with her tears.

“Let it out, baby,” he said against her head as he rocked her back and forth. “I’ve got you, Cassie, and I won’t let go for anything.”

After a few moments, the tears ceased and she sagged against him, completely spent. “Come on, beautiful,” he said, maneuvering her into the walk-in shower. Keeping one arm around her waist, he washed her as best he could with one hand, then killed the water. Holding her up was easier than it probably should have been, considering she was a grown woman. Another testament to how frail she’d become in such a short time.

“So tired,” she whispered against his chest as he wrapped a large towel around them both.

“I know, baby. Good thing is we don’t have to do shit this weekend, and last week the nausea started to subside by the third day, which is tomorrow.”

“Got the baby shower, Sunday,” she muttered, sounding so near sleep he decided to forgo new pajamas.

“Shit, I forgot about that. You can—”

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, a little piss and vinegar coming out now. “I’m going to Izzy’s baby shower if I have to crawl there on my hands and knees.”

There was his feisty girl.

He chuckled then guided her to the bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Cassie snuggled under the covers. “Ahh, that feels good. And for the first time since Thursday, I don’t feel like I’m going to puke.”