Free Web NovelChapter 187: Chapter 187 - Who are the Briggs?
They walked back into Lance’s room together, the soft hiss of the oxygen machine filling the space as the door closed behind them. Lance turned his head at the sound, his eyes landing on them immediately, sharp and aware despite the way he lay against the pillows.
"Well, well," he said, his voice rough but amused. "So that’s why you disappeared on me."
His gaze shifted to Iyisha, then back to Malcolm.
"Left me mid-conversation with a nurse... for her," a faint smirk forming on his lips. "I’m getting a little jealous."
Iyisha let out a small laugh, unable to stop it.
Her chest still felt warm.
That had been—
Different.
Not entirely new, not something she hadn’t felt before with him, but the way it had happened, the way he had looked at her after... it lingered under her skin in a way she couldn’t shake. She glanced at Malcolm from the corner of her eye, just for a second.
Lance caught it.
"Yeah," he said dryly. "That look right there. I see everything, by the way."
Malcolm didn’t respond. He stepped forward instead, dragging one of the padded chairs closer to the bed and placing it beside the other before turning slightly toward her.
"Sit," he said, low.
Iyisha sat.
Malcolm took the chair beside her.
Lance rolled his eyes, shifting slightly against the pillow.
"Wow," he muttered. "Really just going to rub it in my face, huh."
But the small smile stayed there, his gaze moving between them, watching, like he was piecing something together he hadn’t expected to see but wasn’t entirely surprised by either.
"That girl with you," Lance said, a grin forming as he looked at Iyisha, "she’s a beauty."
Iyisha gave him a look. "Her name’s Marybeth and she’s twenty-one. Too old for you."
He grinned wider. "I look young. I feel young. But I am twenty-three, thank you very much."
Iyisha smiled, a little impressed despite herself. "Then go try your charm on her."
Lance looked pleased with that, like he already had a plan forming.
A knock cut in.
The door opened slightly and a nurse stepped in. "Dr. Stevens is asking for Malcolm and Iyisha. In his office."
Iyisha and Lance both looked at him.
Malcolm was already standing.
"Let’s go," he said, his eyes shifting briefly to Iyisha.
"Go alone," Lance cut in.
Malcolm glanced at him.
"She’s gonna stay here with me," Lance added, nodding toward Iyisha. "I need to know about my sister-in-law."
Iyisha’s face reddened.
"No," Malcolm said.
Lance smiled. "Relax. I’m not gonna tell her your secrets." He looked at her and winked.
Malcolm didn’t move.
Lance looked at him, then added more lightly, "I want to talk to someone new. Get to know her."
Iyisha glanced between them.
She knew what the meeting was about.
The tests.
The treatment.
"I’ll stay," she said.
Malcolm looked at her.
Then he gave a small nod.
"I’ll be back," he said.
Lance waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. Go."
Malcolm stepped out, the door closing behind him.
Iyisha leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze lingering on the door for a moment before shifting back to Lance.
She chose to stay.
Not just to avoid the conversation.
But because she wanted to know him too.
"You like him," Lance said, smiling at her.
"What?" Iyisha frowned. "No... no, I don’t."
The denial came too fast.
She hadn’t even told Malcolm. She wasn’t about to have it come from someone else.
Lance just watched her.
"He might not look like it," he said, "but he likes you too."
Heat crept up her face.
"No," she said, biting her lip. "We don’t know that."
"You’re the first woman he’s ever brought to me," Lance went on. "That says enough."
Her heart started to pound.
She looked away. "It’s compli—"
"Take care of him."
She stopped.
The words cut through clean.
Her gaze shifted to him. "He doesn’t need that," she said.
Lance smiled faintly, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling.
"My brother’s always been the one taking care of me."
The smile didn’t last.
"He joined the military at eighteen," Lance said, his voice quieter now, "just so he could afford my treatment."
Iyisha stilled.
"My brother is an amazing man."
"He is," she said, softer.
"He made sure I was safe," Lance continued. "Made sure I lived without worrying about anything."
He shifted, trying to sit up.
Iyisha moved quickly, helping him, adjusting the pillow behind his back as he leaned forward.
"He’s always been like that," Lance said. "Even when we were kids."
He sniffed, his breathing uneven now.
"You know... he used to sleep outside my door."
Iyisha’s hands stilled on the pillow.
"So no one could come in."
A pause.
"He started after..." Lance exhaled, his eyes drifting away from her, fixing somewhere on the wall. His jaw tightened. "After it happened."
The words came out thinner.
He let out a hollow breath, something like a laugh but without weight.
"If you know what I mean."
Iyisha’s fingers tightened.
She didn’t ask.
Couldn’t.
Lance swallowed, his throat working.
"We... uh..." He cleared his throat, but the words didn’t come right away. His hand shifted slightly in hers. "We grew up with addict parents."
He tried to smile.
It didn’t hold.
"I was... ’homeschooled,’" he added, lifting his fingers slightly in a weak air quote, his tone turning faintly sarcastic for a second before it dropped again. "Malcolm went to school."
He paused.
"When I was eight..." His voice caught.
He looked down.
"I—"
Nothing came.
His chest rose sharply, breath uneven.
Iyisha tightened her grip on his hand.
"You don’t have to tell me," she said quietly.
Lance shook his head.
"I want to," he said, forcing the words out.
Iyisha sat down beside him fully, her attention fixed on him.
He swallowed again.
"He came home," Lance said slowly, each word dragged out like it cost him something, "and found me..."
His jaw clenched.
"Bleeding."
The word barely made it out.
"Our parents were in the living room," he went on, his voice lower now. "High. Didn’t even notice."
He let out a short, empty breath.
"Guess that helped," he muttered. "I don’t remember it happening. My head just... blanked it out."
Iyisha’s grip tightened around his hand.
"But Malcolm did," Lance said.
His voice softened.
"He saw everything."
Silence pressed in.
"After that, we got sent to our grandparents," he continued, his lips pulling into a bitter smile. "Thought it would be better."
He shook his head slightly.
"It wasn’t."
A pause.
"They didn’t..." He exhaled. "They didn’t touch me."
His fingers curled slightly.
"But they hit us."
Another pause.
"Malcolm didn’t report them," Lance added quietly. "If he did... they would’ve separated us."
He looked at her then.
"And he wouldn’t let that happen."
"When my cancer came back..." Lance started, then stopped.
His breath hitched.
"He chose the Navy," he said, the words rough as they came out. "Said it was the only way to keep paying for my treatment."
A tear slipped down his temple.
Iyisha’s grip tightened on his hand.
"When everything fell apart," Lance went on, voice breaking, "he stayed. Stayed with them. Because they promised... they promised they’d keep supporting me."
He let out a shaky breath.
"Then they stopped."
A hollow laugh left him, weak and bitter.
"Just like that."
His face twisted, the control slipping.
"He spent his whole life protecting me," he said, his voice cracking open, "and I—"
The words broke.
A sob tore out of him.
"I couldn’t even—" He shook his head, his shoulders trembling. "I couldn’t even give anything back."
Iyisha felt her own vision blur.
"Hey—" she whispered, her voice shaking as she moved closer, her other hand coming up to steady him.
But Lance was already crying, the sound raw and uneven, years of held weight spilling out all at once.
"I couldn’t even help him," he choked. "I couldn’t even live for him."
Iyisha pulled him gently toward her, her own tears falling now, silent at first, then harder as she held on.
"It’s not your fault," she said, but her voice broke halfway through.
Lance shook his head against her shoulder.
They stayed like that.
Crying.
No space for anything else.
Just the sound of it filling the room.
They stayed like that until the crying slowed.
Lance pulled back first, wiping his face with the back of his hand, breathing uneven but steadier now. He looked at her, eyes still wet, something softer in them.
"So..." he said, voice trembling, "I want you to take care of him."
Iyisha blinked at him.
"I’m sorry to ask that from you," he added quietly.
"It’s okay," she muttered.
Lance let out a small breath, dragging his hand over his face again.
"Damn," he said with a weak laugh. "Haven’t cried like that in years."
Iyisha smiled faintly, wiping her own tears.
"Lance," she said, her voice gentler now, "it’s not too late."
He looked at her.
"Maybe I can help you," she added, almost hesitant.
Lance exhaled and shook his head slightly.
"Ah..." he said, a tired smile pulling at his lips. "I don’t want to hope."
Iyisha’s hand tightened around his.
"Thank you," he went on. "For doing this. Really. But I’m tired of hoping."
His gaze drifted for a second, then came back to her.
"Now that Malcolm’s here..." he said softly, "I think I can go."
"No," Iyisha said under her breath.
She leaned closer, holding his hand with both of hers.
"Let’s find a way," she whispered, something firm settling in her voice.
"Let’s find it."
