Truth Be Told (Blackbridge Security Book 4) Marie James (latest novels to read TXT) 📖

“So, months?” I’ve done my research. Six months is usually the high end of care for people sent home to fucking die.

“It’s aggressive. She’s looking at a couple of weeks at best.”

“W-weeks? That’s not enough time. We need more time.” Tears stream down my face as I look over at my frail mother in the hospital bed. “If she only has weeks, why can’t she stay in the hospital?”

“We believe she’ll be more comfortable at home.”

“Comfortable?” My anger spikes as I jab a finger toward her sleeping form. “She’s dying of cancer. There’s no comfort.”

“Hospice care will be able to provide her with the pain medication she’ll need.”

“So, pump her full of drugs?” The flash of her getting addicted to something is gone before it really forms because the cancer won’t let her live long enough to form an addiction.

“I know this is hard news, and even harder times are coming for your family. If there was something we could do—”

“Don’t,” I snap, uncaring that I’m taking out my pain on him.

I leave him standing on the other side of the room and go to her bedside. Moments later, the soft whoosh of the door closing fills my ears. I’m alone with my dying mother, her fragile thin-skinned hand in mine as I cry.

Losing her will be a blow I knew was coming, but nothing can really prepare someone for such a loss. I remind myself that she’s in pain, that she wakes up hurting every single day, and that it’s selfish of me to want her to stay. I don’t want her in pain.

I want a complete do-over.

I want to tell Ignacio about Alex that night.

I want to tell my father I was staying in Houston all those years ago, and if he insisted on me moving anyway, I want to have been there to keep him from going to work that day.

I want cancer eradicated from the world, so no other person has to suffer the way my mom is, the way I’m suffering now, the way my son will suffer from losing another person he loves.

“I’m not ready,” I confess, my words mixing with the beeping of the machines and the bustle of the hospital on the other side of the door. “I’ll never be ready.”

Time no longer exists until I look up and notice the sun has sunk so low in the sky an array of colors is announcing its final goodbyes of the day.

A nurse informed me earlier that Mom will be discharged tomorrow morning, carried home by a medical transport company. I spoke with the hospice agency and they gave me a laundry list of things to get done to prepare, but I can’t seem to leave her room.

Her breathing is even, and despite wanting to have hope that the doctors are wrong, I’ve seen her scans. I’ve had several hard conversations with her about what’s going to happen. I know it’s coming. I can’t wish it away.

It still kills me to know she’s the last link. Alex and I have no other family. That thought makes me pause because I do. My brother, although I haven’t spoken to him in forever, is still around. I haven’t thought of him since Mom told me he may be coming to stay until his new job starts. Of course, Cooper made promises he didn’t keep, and now I’m tasked with tracking him down and giving him terrible news.

I know he’ll blame me as if I’m personally responsible for the terrible things eating away at our mother’s insides. It’s a fight I’m not looking forward to, but before I can relay bad news to my brother, I have to go home and explain them to my son.

When I was pregnant, I vowed to protect him from everything. I broke that promise when Dad died, and now I’m going to have to do it once again.

I’m heavy, as if the weight of the world is dragging me down when I whisper my goodbye to my mom with the hope of getting to see her again tomorrow as I leave her room. I’ve been reluctant to step away even for a second, filled with the fear that the doctor is wrong about having weeks, knowing she’s in such a weakened state that she could only have days or mere hours.

Leaving Alex home alone overnight isn’t an option even if Ignacio is there with him.

I bypass all the fast-food places on the drive home, praying they found something to eat at home or Ignacio ordered food.

For the first time since he arrived in town, the sight of the truck parked in front of the house comes as a relief, but I don’t have the time or energy to evaluate those emotions. I have the obligation to go inside and give my son news that may be his ultimate breaking point.

Chapter 15

Ignacio

I wish I could feel the same joy I see on Alex’s face as the last out is called on the game. His team won, and they celebrate on the field as if it were the final game of the World Series.

My phone has remained silent despite Tinley’s promise to let me know she arrived safe and how Brooke is doing.

Thanks to Wren’s not-so-legal access to the local hospital’s system, I know she got there in one piece because she was logged as a visitor. Unfortunately, I also know how dire the situation is as well.

The news is bad, like so bad my hands are shaking when Alex runs up and gives me a high five.

“You were amazing,” I tell him, just barely resisting the urge to wrap him in a hug and promise him everything is going to be okay.

“Where’s Mom?” he asks, looking around as people shuffle out of the ballpark to continue the rest of their Saturday. “Bathroom?”

“She had to leave.”

“Work?” He frowns. “Sometimes she can’t stay for the entire game.”

I open my mouth to lie to him, but slam it shut. He’s had