Finally Finn (Los Rancheros #4) (15 page)

When I cry myself out, I try to wipe the damp
spot away from Ali’s shirt. “Sorry. I think I know why he got the
angel now. It’s an insane amount of pain to deal with.”

“If it’s worth anything, I don’t think you’ve
lost him,” Ali offers, but I immediately shake my head.

“No. Those kids mean everything to him. I
made them vulnerable. He’ll never get over that.”

“You know, I was watching the footage, and it
didn’t look that bad. I mean the sexting was less than ideal, but
the other stuff looked like a sexy man in a relationship with a hot
woman that was protective over his kids. That picture in the
dressing room with you bent over his arm as he kissed your chest,
holy Jesus. That was some hot shit, girlfriend. I would own that if
it happened to Dek and me.”

“You’re married. He’s essentially my boss.
It’s completely different,” I argue.

“So what do you want to do?”

I look up into her pretty eyes and sniff.
“There’s only one thing I can think of to do when your heart gets
ripped out of your chest.”

SUNDAY

After watching the concert show air, and
seeing how great it all came out, I couldn’t get Ali’s words out of
my head. I played back the other show episodes over and over and
couldn’t find fault with my performances at all. There was nothing
to be ashamed of there.

Finn and I are consensual adults and I begin
to see that side of it. Not that it was anything bad that we did,
we just got caught. But someone invaded our privacy and they should
be punished for that.

To say I was in no mood for Porter was an
understatement. I picked him up from the airport myself and made no
attempt to lose the crowd of vultures at LAX. We went straight to
the hospital and were only left alone when we left them behind at
the oncology unit entrance.

“Stay here and be nice. If I find out you
were anything less than an angel, I’ll tank any career you may have
had, kid.” He eyes me, and I grab the front of his shirt. “No shit.
You’ll be working at a casino singing Elvis before you get a
contract if you mess this up.”

“Okay,” he says meekly. “Yeah, okay.”

I push a zippered garment bag into his chest.
“Change into this in exactly thirty minutes. Don’t fuck with me,
kid.”

I leave him in the common room and refuse to
let my eyes search for the man I want to be there. I drop off a box
at the nurses’ desk and move to Mara’s room.

“Hey, beautiful!” I enter the room and my
heart sinks. This thirteen-year-old girl has shrunken even more
since last week. She’s a wisp of herself and the bed seems to
swallow her up. I smile through my tears and see her roll her eyes
over the oxygen mask on her face.

“Shut up.” The words are muffled but I’m kind
of an expert by now.

“I will not.” I drape the bag down onto the
foot of the bed and her eyes track it, so I slowly unzip the
protective covering and pull out a princess dress that practically
explodes out of the bag. It’s got a fitted silk bodice and empire
waist that gives way to a tulle bell skirt done in black with
glitter over the whole thing.

Mara’s mom can’t contain her sobs and I get
tackled from the side and she squeezes until my bones creak.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says
over and over and I hug her just as tight, knowing that she knows
what this means and is equal parts heartbroken and grateful.

“Mara, we’ve got to get you out of that bed,
girlfriend.” I wave a nurse forward and she starts unhooking tubes
and wires as I set my especially heavy purse down and pull out
makeup and wigs.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to go blonde,
red, or black, so I brought everything.” I dig some more, but when
I don’t get a response I look up to see tears pouring down her
cheeks.

“Mara? What’s wrong?” I move to her side and
pull her against me gently.

“You really did it?” she asks softly. “He’s
here?”

“Of course he is, you crazy girl! We came
straight from the airport. Do you want someone different? I’ll send
his ass packing in a heartbeat.” I really mean that.

“No.” She grips my wrist with more strength
than I thought she had. “I want Porter. Make me beautiful,
Sadie.”

I look down, arranging brushes, and try to
blink back my tears. Finally, I reach up for her face and hold it
in my hands. “You’re already the most beautiful girl I’ve ever
seen.”

Mara’s mom wraps her arm around my shoulder
and pushes her head into mine, looking at her baby. “She really is,
huh?”

I smile shakily as everyone starts crying,
the nurse included. “You bet your ass, momma.”

Everyone laughs and I force it out of my
chest too, because this is Mara’s time and it was meant to be
happy.

“Now, about this hair color?” I prompt.

“I want the red.”

Hair done in a graceful updo, makeup subtle
to the eye, but enough to cover the dark circles under her eyes,
dress shaped to disguise a gaunt figure, and ballet flats for easy
maneuvering, Mara turns at the knock on her room door. The jewelry
around her neck and ears sparkle in the fluorescent light as she
moves with wide eyes.

Mara’s dad, who is divorced from her mom,
stays her with a hand. “This is my job, baby,” he says, moving to
block the way. Her mom stands, anxiously holding a camera, and I
step back with my fingers crossed so hard my fingers cramp.

“Hello, sir. I’m here for Mara,” Porter says,
his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows nervously.

Mara’s dad holds out his hand to shake, and
Porter bobbles with the little plastic box in his other hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, son. I hope you won’t
keep her out too late.”

“No, sir. I’ll have her back in time.”
Porter’s eyes move to Mara, as her dad steps aside and he smiles
shakily. “Wow, you look like a gothic Cinderella.”

My eyes close and I breathe finally as Mara
giggles.

“Let me get your picture. Oh my goodness, you
look so handsome,” Mara’s mom exclaims, moving to Porter and
introducing herself. He shakes her hand politely and I help Mara
from her bed to the wall. Porter makes eye contact with me before
jumping to hold her hand instead.

“I have this. Do you want me to put it on?”
He holds up the wrist corsage in the plastic box.

“Yes. Please. I have one for you, too. Not a
corsage, a boutonniere thing.” Mara stumbles and I have to bite my
lip to keep from smiling. I never thought I would see the day that
that kid would be anything but a badass.

Mara’s hands shake as Porter fits the
stretchy band around her wrist. When it comes time for Mara to put
the little flower on his lapel, her hands are shaking so badly I’m
afraid she’ll pin him, so I take the camera from her mom and nudge
her forward. I click the shutter silently and capture as she moves
her hands around her daughter’s shoulders and pushes the pin
through. Porter stays still, I don’t even think he’s breathing when
her mom pushes her head into Mara’s neck and breathes deep.

Her face is set when Porter takes Mara’s hand
and puts it in the crook of his elbow and supports her as they
leave the room. We walk slowly behind them, into the common room
that’s covered in paper decorations, and icicle lights.

Mara laughs and turns to smile at her mom.
She drops the camera where it catches at her wrist to clap with her
daughter in excitement. I move to the side as the first slow song
starts from the iPod and speakers I gave to the staff earlier.

I clench my jaw to stop more tears while I
watch Porter handle Mara with such care. He moves slowly, bringing
her arms around his neck, and sways from side to side. Her bell
skirt swaying with her, Mara’s eyes sparkle with happiness. I know
we did it again. Or I did, that is.

They dance two dances, and we watch as Mara’s
strength flags minute by minute. Finally, I hear the song I’ve been
waiting for and nudge her dad. He looks at me.

“Go dance with your girl, Daddy.” It’s an
oldies song called “My Special Angel” and is about an angel from
heaven, and the stars in her eyes. Porter moves graciously to
Mara’s mom’s side and she collapses against him. He wraps his hands
around her back and lets her cry while pretending to dance. I cry
with a silent, straight face as Mara steps on her Daddy’s feet and
he keeps dancing with her even after she can’t stand on her own
anymore.

As the song comes to an end, we all pull away
to clap and I notice that someone is clapping beside me. I turn my
head to look and take a step to the side instinctively.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper through
numb lips.

“It’s Sunday. Where else would I be?”

I choose to ignore him and nod for Porter to
go back to his date. He hugs her mom, then walks to Mara, picking
her up without hesitation like a bride. We follow him back to her
room and he places her softly on her bed, then amazingly pulls up a
chair. Before he sits down, he kisses her cheek softly.

I left a note in the bag with his suit that
explained exactly what I wanted him to do, knocking on the door,
the corsage, the dance, but this is beyond that.

“Can I sing you a song, Mara?” he asks so
quietly, I almost don’t hear him. Her face flushes prettily with
color and she nods shyly. The adults back up and try to blend with
the wall as he serenades his date. She holds his hand tightly,
taking in everything about him for as long as her eyes will stay
open, then closes them with a smile on her face.

“Is she . . . She’s not gonna, I mean—”
Porter can’t get the question out, but I sigh heavily, anyway.

“Yes, and yes. You did a good thing back
there. Thank you for that. You have no idea what you gave that
family,” I answer solemnly.

“You do this a lot?” he asks with wide
eyes.

I nod. “Yeah, kid.”

I watch him walk down the hall, then turn and
stick his hands in his pockets. “When I get here for the live
shows, can I maybe come back?”

I walk toward him. “You want to see these
kids again?”

Porter breaks eye contact and shifts his
feet, shrugging. “Yeah? I think. I mean, yeah, I do.”

I squint my eyes at him. “You have to be
healthy. You can’t come here sick. They don’t have any immune
system at all so you have to be really careful about that.”

He nods again. “I understand. Thank you for
letting me be a part of this. I mean that, Sadie.” He makes eye
contact and I actually believe him.

“Yeah, well, just don’t let me catch you in
anymore bathrooms, alright?” He chuckles and I give a small smile
as he steps on the elevator.

“There’s a driver waiting to take you to the
airport, Porter. Have a safe trip home,” Finn says from behind me.
Of course, I knew he was there, hanging back. My body won’t let go
of the goose bumps that always happen when he’s at my back.

I stay where I am, since apparently I don’t
have anyone to drive to the airport. Then I look around. “Wait,
there were paparazzi out here when we got here. Where did they
go?”

My Batty crosses his hands over his chest and
walks toward me, his cape billowing behind him lazily. “Please,
Sadie. I’m Finnigan Brennick. I can move a few dozen people out of
a hallway.”

“Hmm. So you’re talking to me now?”

Batty sighs and drops his hands. “Yeah, about
that.” He pulls out two white clumps of material from behind his
back. They must have been in his pockets or down his pants or
something, I think wildly.

“I fucked up, Sadie. I took my anger out on
the wrong person and treated you unfairly.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” I
ask, because I know my man and he’s stubborn as all hell.

“Aiden . . . and Pop . . . and the girls,” he
says with a roll of those grey eyes I love so much.

“What did they have to say?” I ask
curiously.

“A hell of a lot. Brian showed up at the
school again, and Aiden lost his mind. I had to bribe the Chief of
Police to not press charges on him.”

My mouth drops open. “He hit him?”

Batty laughs. “He beat the shit out of
him.”

“Good for Aiden!” I smile genuinely for the
first time in what seems like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he seems to be coming back to life, if
slowly.”

“That’s great, Batty,” I say quietly.

His eyes cut to mine. “You called me
Batty.”

I look around and shrug uncomfortably.
“You’re in a mask and cape.”

“What if I had something else besides these
costumes for us to wear out of here?” he asks. I immediately feel
my irritation start to form and my muscles get tight.

“Of course we couldn’t walk out of here like
this, because then people would know what we do. Can’t have that.”
Batty doesn’t say anything, just tosses me one of the white things
with a soft smile. I catch it out of reflex and look down.

When I hold it up, I see a white t-shirt with
half of a wing outlined in red and the word Robin inside of it. I
blink and pull it down to look at Batty.

He’s holding up a shirt that’s several sizes
bigger with half of a batwing outlined in yellow and Batman in the
middle.

“If we wore these out there, we would be
like—”

“Two parts of a whole? Exactly. We can do
this together, babe. I was wrong to leave you earlier. I love you
and I never should have left you alone with that pack of wolves
literally at your door,” he says while walking toward me slowly. I
blink stupidly.

“You do what?” I ask. Batty laughs and pulls
his mask off first, then his shirt. Right in the middle of the damn
hospital.

“I love you, Sadie Dinah. And I know you love
me, so you can go ahead and tell me,” he says with a cocky
smile.

“Well, I don’t know where you got that idea.
I don’t recall—”

Batty leans forward to bite my lip,
effectively cutting off my snarky comeback. “I distinctly remember
you saying it when you were riding me, and I was balls deep inside
of you, baby. I’m not letting you take it back, either.”