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Yes, I know.

“I would do the same for Savannah.”

“I’m so happy you’ve found someone Sin.”

He nods. “I would do it for Sienna—”

“I know. You loved her.”

“And I’ll do the same for you, Tessa. I was wrong for telling him no. There never should have been an alternative other than yes. I’ll get the test and, if it’s possible, I’m going to save you.”

Tears prick at my eyes as my hand flies to my mouth. I’m in shock. “I can’t ask you to do that.” I shake my head.

“You’re not asking, I’m telling. I’m telling you as a… brother, that I’ll do whatever possible to save you.”

The door opens, and Hawk’s head comes around. His gaze bounces from Matthew to me. When he sees my tears, he takes a step inside, his eyes narrowing in on Matthew. “Everything all right in here?”

I look at Matthew and nod. Placing his hand on the back of my head, he brings me towards him and places a kiss on my forehead. He whispers in my ear, “You’ve got four brothers now, Tessa. I can’t speak to your other brothers, but I can for Cut and me. We’ve got your back, baby girl. With our strength, there’s nothing you can’t overcome. Even this.”

He stands and turns towards Hawk. Wrapping his arms around him, they each give each other hard smacks on the back. He pulls back from Hawk. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she’s all right. As her brother, I’m going to do whatever I can.”

“Thank you,” Hawk tells him then turns towards me.

“I love her, and I need her to be all right.”

Hawk

3 months later

The white walls feel like they’re closing in on me. The multiple prints of landscapes try to lighten up space, but they do nothing for me. Not when I’ve been staring at them for the past several hours. My mom, Rhea, Bianca, Cut, Savannah, Sin, and Sam, all the people who mean the most to me, align the waiting room while I wait on word Tessa.

Sin grunts as he lifts himself from the chair. He’s still sore from the marrow harvest that happened two days ago. He limps towards the window and looks out on the skyline of downtown Las Cruces. Hospitals are never easy for him.

“How much longer do you think it’s going to take?” Rhea asks as she adjusts in her chair. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, but this wait is killing me.”

“Head home. I’ll call you when we hear anything.” Rose says.

My mother and Rhea moved to Las Cruces two months ago, right before Tessa started chemotherapy. They live with Bianca for the time being. It was the best situation since my mother didn’t have the means to live on her own, not since technically she was never married to James and was never allotted any alimony. Loa, of course, took her father’s side and washed her hands of our mother. When she found out she wasn’t getting a dime from James, she was pissed, but what did she expect? She knew she was still legally married when she said those vows. Now, when she isn’t sitting with Tessa, or watching Sam, she’s working at the shop, manager actually.

“No. I want to wait.”

“Mr. Gentry?” a nurse calls my name, and I look up. “Tessa is awake and asking for you.”

“All right.” I get up, but before I leave, I give Sin one more glance. I’m not sure the last time I saw Matthew Sinclair have a look of complete contentment on his face. His demons have stopped roaring. I think he’s finally at peace.

* * *

I gently push the door open and peek my head into the room. Tessa turns her head. Without hesitation, I walk towards her and place a kiss on the top of her bald head. Chemotherapy was rough. They introduced a healthy regimen for the eight-week cycle, and it knocked her on her ass pretty fast. There was a week that she was on lockdown in the hospital because her immune system was nonexistent. I was scared shitless, but I never let her see it. I kept that shit to myself. After Sam was long asleep was when I would allow myself to break down and cry.

So far so good.

“I love you,” I tell her. I tell her every damn day, all day long because I’ll be damned if she goes a minute thinking that she isn’t loved by someone.

“I love you, too.”

Her cold hand comes up, and she places it on my cheek. Her circulation still isn’t great. It’s been three weeks since her last round of chemo, and her body is taking a little longer than usual to get back to how it’s supposed to function. I know it’s not going to happen overnight. I know it’s a slow and steady race. I’m patient.

I have to be.