F*CK CLUB_SHAME Read online

  I think we did, but I’m coming by to check on him.

  Why had she said we? She should have said I. She didn’t want Dr. Josh involved in this—

  The door opened.

  Shoving the phone into her pocket, she lurched upward off the chair and met Max’s gaze. He looked better.

  Sharper.

  More aware.

  As evidenced by the fact that his eyes zeroed in on her empty hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Charli frowned. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

  “Because you’re jumpy and you just shoved your phone into your pocket like you’re trying to hide sexts from me.” His brows went together over his eyes.

  And damn it, Charli’s heart bumped a few hard thumps.

  If he’d asked...

  But he just braced a hand on the doorjamb and blew out a weary sigh. “I can call Con, have him come get me.”

  “The hell you will,” she snapped, forgetting, temporarily, about her delusions and wishes and worrying about his unsteady gait and pale face. “Do you have any idea what could have happened the past day or so?”

  “I got stabbed. Lost some blood. Next time, let me pass out and sleep it off,” he said sourly.

  He took a few unsteady steps, but when she started toward him, he gave her such a fiery, hard look, she held her ground and waited.

  If the bastard fell, he’d just have to rot on the floor. At least until Dr. Josh got there. She sure as hell couldn’t do much.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Charli

  “HOW ARE YOU?”

  The kindly look on the older man’s face immediately put Charli on edge. “I’m fine,” she said warily, backing away. “But I’m not the one who nearly went septic.”

  “That’s true. That right there definitely takes the cake when it comes to lousy weekends, I think.” Dr. Josh nudged the door shut but instead of heading down the hall where she’d gestured, he looked around, a faint smile on his face. “I remember this place, Charli. Coming here with my wife, playing cards with your parents. Shame you’re selling.”

  “There’s nothing here for me,” she said bluntly. And she tried to ignore the memories he stirred up, because she remembered those times, too. Dr. Josh and his wife, Katie, hadn’t ever had kids, but they’d doted on her and Con. Riley had been too old, or so he’d claimed. He’d never backed away from the hugs or the attention, just allowed the couple to lavish a little extra on Con and Charli.

  And the Rodriguez family had been there when everything went dark for her family.

  Blinking her eyes against the ache of remembered pain, she pointed down the hall. “He’s down there. You know the way.”

  “I do.” Dr. Josh blew out a breath. “And I also remember the last time I had to do a physical on him because of a life insurance policy. His fear of doctors, Charli...it instills a fear of patients in me. Come on in there with me, honey. Protect an old man, would you?”

  It was so obvious, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

  But at the same time, she knew he wasn’t wrong. If she was in there, Max wouldn’t glare the doctor into silence or acquiescence. Not that the doctor was inclined to, either, but she didn’t want the doctor to have to interrupt his day just for this. They only had so many doctors in town—him.

  “Fine,” she grumbled, moving ahead of him and pushing the door open in front of her after a quick knock.

  The lights were off.

  The shadow on the bed was unmoving.

  But she knew he was watching her.

  “The doctor’s here, Max. He’s taking a look at you.”

  After a few seconds, his response came. “Is that a fact?”

  “Yes.” Narrowing her eyes, she glared in the general direction of his shadow. “Now stop being an ass or I’m going to get search lights and pull you out of the shadows, then sit on you and hold you still myself if that’s what it takes.”

  “Well...” Dr. Josh cleared his throat. “That’s one way to handle things, Dr. Steele.” Then he hit the lights and moved into the room. “Let’s try this way first.”

  Max flinched at the flare of lights and jerked up a hand.

  A harsh groan escaped his throat and there was something about the way he reacted that bothered her. She’d kept the lights low the past few days so he could rest, but this wasn’t normal, even after a couple of days of being out of it.

  She slid Dr. Josh a look and saw the lines tightening briefly around his mouth.

  Well, nice to know she wasn’t the only one concerned.

  But damned if she’d let Max hear the concern in her voice. It would only exacerbate the fear she knew he was feeling. If anybody she’d ever met had a true phobia of doctors, it was Max Schaeffer.

  But it made sense, in a twisted sort of way.

  There had been times when he’d been injured enough that he probably should have gone to the hospital—maybe a time or two he even had, back when she’d been younger, too young to understand what was going on. She knew the abuse had started back when he’d been too small a boy to even process what was happening and it had continued up until his mother sent him away. A decade of hell. He’d lived through a decade of hell, and he still carried those scars.

  Pressing her lips together, she mentally steeled herself and went to his side. “Come on, you big baby. How bad can that headache be?” she asked, although she knew if he had let himself show pain in front of her, he must feel like something was carving through his brain, from the inside out, with a dull knife.

  Slowly, the hand lowered.

  Slowly, his head lifted.

  His pale blue eyes locked on her face, although he had to squint to do even that.

  She’d open the blinds, she thought. Open the blinds and turn off the lights. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be better than this.

  “Why didn’t I ever realize what a mean bitch you were, Charli?” he asked in the husky rasp that had replaced his voice over the past few days.

  “I don’t know. I guess the same reason I didn’t pay attention when you told me you were an asshole,” she said lightly. Gesturing to the older doctor behind her, she said, “Do what you will. He won’t bite while I’m here.”

  Dr. Josh snagged the chair she’d been using and dragged it closer, sitting in front of Max. “I think we should talk a bit first, Max. If you’re okay with that.”

  Max’s gaze flicked to the doctor for the first time. He looked like he was going to brush off the man at first, his gaze moving toward Charli. She glared at him.

  Something like a sigh shuddered out of him and he glanced back at the doctor. “Why?”

  “Well...” Dr. Josh blew out a breath. “I think it might help me figure out why a young man such as yourself ended up going septic after the knife wound you took.” Holding up a hand, the older doctor said, “I’ve been thinking this through and my choices are limited. Perhaps Charli was careless when she stitched you up and she didn’t clean the wound—”

  “If you think that, then you don’t know jack shit about her,” Max practically growled.

  Dr. Josh smiled his placid smile and continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “But I know that girl, and careless isn’t in her repertoire. So, I have to consider that perhaps the object that cut you was exceedingly filthy. Which may very well be the case, but still, a healthy young man should be able to fight that off without going septic, and it happened so fast.” He paused and the weight of his gaze slammed into Max.

  Charli felt it.

  “Why don’t you just say what it is you want to say?”

  “I think we both know what I want to say.” Dr. Josh lifted his chin. “You’ve lost weight. I’ve noticed it the past few months, but pointing out such a thing to you would be about as useful as pointing out an iceberg to the Titanic. When I was putting an IV in, I took the liberty of performing a quick physical.”

  He glanced at Charli as he said it.

  She’d been in the room, ha
d watched.

  She knew what he’d found, because she’d discovered the same thing.

  But now she was wondering if he’d come to a conclusion she’d missed—and had she missed it because she was inexperienced? Or because it was Max?

  “You have swollen lymph nodes.” He lifted a hand as Max opened his mouth. “I can explain that in more detail later, but I’m going to speculate on a few things you’ve probably noticed over the past few months. You’re more tired. You can’t eat.”

  “I never eat all that much,” Max bit off. But he sounded uneasy.

  “There’s a difference between not being much of an eater, and not being able to eat—or not holding down food...or in,” Dr. Josh said, cocking a brow. “You’re not sleeping well, and I’d imagine sleep has always been an issue for you. Now it’s more so. And these headaches...”

  “Who said I had a headache?” Max demanded.

  “The way you’re acting—the lights, how you’re holding yourself.” Dr. Josh shrugged. “Perhaps you don’t have a headache. I could be wrong. Although as rigidly as you’re sitting, if you don’t have a headache yet, you will.”

  “Again...” Max said it through clenched teeth. “What are you getting at?”

  “You’re not well,” he said simply. “And I don’t mean this episode here, Max. I think you’re ill...and I think you have been for a while.”

  A muscle pulsed in Max’s cheek.

  Charli felt her stomach fall out as he gritted out, “So the fuck what?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shame

  “PLEASE...WATCH YOUR words,” the doctor said, leaning in and staring at Shame with eyes that held more than a hint of steel. “You think I’m speculating about this because I enjoy seeing somebody who I cared for as a child squirm and worry?”

  Shame opened his mouth to deny the doctor’s words.

  A movement off to his side silenced him.

  Charli had turned away. As he watched, she paced over to the window and it was the reflection he saw there that kept him silent. She’d lifted a hand, closed it into a fist and pressed it to her mouth.

  Maybe it was her mother’s ghost who whispered into his ear, People care about you, Max. And when you’re careless, you hurt them.

  “What do you want?” Shame bit off.

  “I want to do a physical and draw some blood, ask you some more questions,” Dr. Rodriguez said simply.

  He might as well have been asking Shame to shit solid gold. “No,” he said, shaking his head. Let somebody put their hands on him? Hell, no. No.

  Rodriguez nodded, heaving out a sigh. “I was hoping you’d see it otherwise, all things considered. Very well. I need to speak with Dr. Steele a moment, then perhaps you would at least allow us the courtesy of looking at your back.”

  He rose and gestured to Charli.

  Charli had turned and was staring at both of them with dry, red eyes.

  All things considered...

  What the fuck?

  They’d almost made it to the door when the words spilled out of him.

  “What the fuck do you mean, all things considered, Doc?”

  “That’s none of your concern, Max,” Rodriguez said, one hand solicitously at the base of Charli’s spine. “Come along, Dr. Steele. We’ll—”

  “If you don’t tell me what’s going on—” and take your fucking hand off her— “I’m going to break your hand off at the wrist and feed it to you, Doc. Got it?”

  He didn’t know where he’d found the strength to stand, much less close half the distance between him and the older man, but one minute he was on the bed, the next he was closer to Charli and Rodriguez and he was mad enough to bite something. Hurt something. Tear something.

  Charli whipped her head around and stepped in front of the doctor—always such a saint.

  “He’s going to tell me he wants to draw blood from me, you son of a bitch!” she snapped.

  Shame’s head snapped back.

  A second later, an ugly fear was birthed in the back of his mind. “Why?”

  “Because he suspects that you fucked me, that’s why.” She’d taken a step toward him and was breathing heavily. “You’ve got the symptoms of somebody who is immune-compromised and he wants to make sure I don’t have something like HIV, you dumbass.”

  That fear sprang to horrid, awful life and he shook his head. “That ain’t possible.”

  “Why?” She laughed, the sound like jagged razors. “Because you and I both know his suspicions are spot on.”

  Neither of them noticed Rodriguez slipping out of the room.

  “No,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Why not? Because we were so careful?” she demanded. “Exactly when were we careful, Max? When you fucked me up against the wall the first time? Or when you pushed me onto my knees and told me to take your cock into my mouth so you wouldn’t take me again while I was still too sore from you?”

  Memories he’d tried to banish slammed into him and he fought them back.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he rasped, shaking his head, shoving back against the tide. “I get tested, damn it. Every month. And how the fuck would he know what...about...”

  Charli stared at him, her eyes going wintry. “That’s not your concern.”

  Some men might have gotten mad, or jealous, thinking that the woman they loved had gone and told some other guy about a night they’d shared. But some men weren’t Shame Schaeffer and some men didn’t know Charli Steele the way he did.

  She’d no sooner kiss and tell than she’d sprout wings.

  “What’s going on?” he asked coolly, while his head spun in dizzying circles.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She turned to the door.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it as she took one, two, three steps away from him.

  “I’ll let him do the fucking tests if you’ll tell me.”

  A hard shudder racked her. She’d already reached for the door knob and he could see how her knuckles went white as she gripped it. “That’s blackmail, Shame,” she rasped.

  The room wobbled around him as he moved closer. Close enough that he could brace his hand on the door just above her head. “I’ll let him do the tests on two conditions...you tell me, and you fucking stop calling me Shame.”

  She spun around, glaring at him. “What do you want from me?” she demanded. “I was willing to give you everything, you son of a bitch, and you all but threw me away. Now when I finally decided that I was worth more than that, you won’t leave me alone!”

  Her words were like salt in the open wound of his soul, but he wasn’t backing down.

  Something was wrong with his Charli.

  His, he realized.

  His Charli.

  He reached up to touch her cheek. “Why are you selling this house?” he asked bleakly.

  “What does it matter to you?” She went to push his hand aside.

  He caught hers instead, twining their fingers. “Every good memory I had as a kid was here. And you’ll just give it away?”

  She flinched, her face going white. “Damn you.”

  “That happened a long, long time ago,” he said wearily. His legs wobbled under him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand much longer. He would have dug his fingers into the wood if he could have managed, simply for a better hold, in hopes it would keep him upright.

  “You look like you’re about to pass out,” she said, accusation in her voice.

  “Then you better tell me whatever it is you’re hiding.” He swayed forward and shuddered a little as the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest. Excruciating, exquisite detail of the hours they’d spent together were burned into the very fibers of his soul.

  “If I tell you,” she said in a low voice, “you have to give me your word you’ll go along with every fucking test the doctor orders. Every one. No matter what. You’ll go to the hospital, you’ll listen to him. You’ll do the tests.”

  He tensed, those old, long-buried fe
ars rising to the fore.

  Charli knew it, too. “Every one, Sh— Max. I’ll be there with you if you need me. Although you’re going to have to ask. I’m done waiting around for you. But you have to give me your word.”

  “Fine,” he bit off. “I promise.”

  She sucked in a breath through her nose, then blew out. Seconds passed and she looked aside. “Let him finish first. Then we’ll talk.”

  “No.”

  She turned her head back to his and he saw the cool, steely reserve in her eyes. “It’s the best you’re going to get.” Ice coated the smile she gave him. “And don’t think you can pry it out of my brothers. They don’t know. Nor will they.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Charli

  CHARLI TOOK EACH VIAL of blood and labeled it exactly as Dr. Josh had told her. He’d given her a name to use—she had no idea how he’d come up with it, but he seemed to know what he was doing, so she was going to trust him.

  Her belly was a mess of slick, horrible knots and even though she was a doctor, even though she’d had unprotected sex with a man who’d been around the block so many times he might as well have blazed a path his very own, she still felt shell-shocked.

  Shell-shocked and half-sick with worry, although not all of it was for herself.

  Yes, plenty of it was, even more of it would be later once she had time to think about herself, but for now, she kept hearing her own voice as she threw the words at Max.

  He wants to make sure I don’t have something like HIV, you dumbass.

  It was nothing less than the truth and she should have figured out this was coming sooner. Max was dealing with an opportunistic infection, one that had spread like wildfire, but it hadn’t occurred to her that it was anything other than some freaky infection.

  And it should have.

  Max lived on a razor’s edge, all but daring life to throw another punch at him.

  Sometimes it was almost like he wanted it.

  And if he’d gotten what he’d been daring fate for this time...

  Her belly twisted all over again as another vial of blood appeared beside her.