Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) by Marysol James Page B

try some new drugs. And?”
    “And we wait and see.”
    Maggie took a deep breath. “OK. I’ll wait.”
    Carrie nodded and left the visitor's room. Her legs felt like jelly, so Maggie sat down, trying to breathe evenly. Her friends sat next to her, around her.
    “You’re going to stay?” Mia said.
    “Yeah.” Maggie rubbed her eyes. “For sure.”
    “I wish I could stay with you,” Reena said. “But I have to go and meet Charlotte for prep. I’ll come back after, OK? With some food?”
    Maggie nodded. “Thanks.”
    “And I’m not going anywhere,” Katie declared. “You’re stuck with me.”
    “Me too,” Mia piped up. “I’ll go get us some coffee… and a croissant, right?”
    Maggie managed a smile. “Please.”
    Reena gave her a huge hug, then she and Mia left the room together. Katie took Maggie’s hand, and they sat, quiet. There was nothing to say, so they just didn’t say anything.
    **
    Carrie dropped by the waiting room six hours later, looking worried. Reena had arrived an hour earlier with some food, and all four women dropped their forks and got to their feet.
    “What?” Maggie blurted. “What is it?”
    “The infection has spread,” Carrie said. “It’s also in her lungs.”
    “Oh, God.”
    “We’ll switch drugs now, and see in the morning, OK?”
    “I can come back at eight o’clock in the morning, right?”
    “Yes.” Carrie sighed. “And the night team will be in touch if anything really critical happens during the night.”
    “I understand. Thank you,” Maggie said. “For everything.”
    “You’re welcome. And listen, don’t panic, OK? I know it’s frightening, but these infections are very common, and the drugs are pretty effective. And I know Rita’s a fighter… she wants to go to Paris with you, remember?”
    “Yeah.” Maggie pulled herself together. “I remember.”
    **
    After having been at the hospital all day, Maggie had lost a full day of work on the first apsara. Joe had called that afternoon, and she’d kept the conversation brief and snide: yes , they were still meeting on the twenty-fourth; yes , everything was under control; yes , he was still an asshole. Though that last part had merely been strongly implied.
    Now she was at the studio, working through the night. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, from worrying about her Mom and waiting for her phone to ring with an urgent call from the night staff, so she might as well use the time to make some progress on the sculpture. Her body was chilled, as the fear she’d been sitting with all day settled in her stomach as a massive block of ice, and started to pump freezing water through her veins.
    I will not think about her dying. I will think about this fucking apsara and Paris and that’s all I’m thinking about. The end.
    She worked all night, barely pausing, and when dawn’s first light crept through the studio windows, Maggie stepped back, amazed at how much she’d actually accomplished. She blinked up at the legs and hips of the dancing goddess, stunned at her grace, her serenity.
    Can you loan me some of that, lady? ‘Cause I’m in short supply of both right now.
    **
    And so the next two weeks passed, with Maggie at the hospital during the day – sometimes alone, more often with at least one of the girls – and then she went to her studio every night and worked. When she felt well and truly dead on her feet, she lay down on the sofa in the studio and closed her eyes. She’d sleep an hour, maybe two, before the stress of the looming deadline and terror for Rita would get her up and working again.
    Anything to meet the agreement obligations, and get Joe Carlisle out of her life, once and for all.
    Anything to distract her from the fact that Rita was getting worse.

Chapter Nine
     
    Katie held on to Adam’s broad back tightly, loving making love with him. He was moaning her name, his breath hot against her throat. His thrusts were getting faster, deeper, and she closed her