LITMIR.BIZ

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or are you playing games? We don’t have time for games.”

      “I told you I’m committed.”

      “That’s what you say, but that’s not how you act,” Mack snarled. “Two hours …”

      “How about the pecs? We could do the pecs in two hours, Mack.”

      “Yeah, we could probably do the pecs,” Mack said. “Be better if we had three hours.”

      “I have to work. I’m pulling the graveyard shift.” She attempted a deep breath, but the belt was too tight. All she could do was exhale short little puffs. “I’m going to need something, Mack.”

      “What? Like some B-six?”

      “Something stronger.”

      Mack paused. “It can be arranged.”

      “You’re a doll—”

      “Hey, I don’t want to ever hear that kind of shit before a session!”

      “Okay, you’d be a doll if you weren’t such a dumb jerk!”

      “Much better!”

      Mack slammed her back into his granite-hard chest. He reached around her body and felt her breasts. “I hate to say this. But you’re coming along nicely.”

      She felt herself smiling. “Thanks. Or shouldn’t I say that?”

      “You shouldn’t say that. You should say, ‘Of course I’m coming along, asshole!’ You’ve got to learn to get your body to deliver the rush. Pumped up means more than just the physical body, you know.”

      “I know.”

      He felt her again. “Yeah, you’re doing well. Of course, there’s always room for improvement. Your pecs have good tone, but no bulk.”

      “What are you talking about! My chest is getting bigger all the time, and not a drop of it is due to fat.”

      “Not enough.” Mack shook his head. “I’m going to increase your weights. What are you at?”

      “Twenty each arm free weights.”

      “How many reps?”

      “Twenty.”

      “How ’bout we use twenty-five weights, but we’ll drop the reps to ten. Try to bulk you up.”

      “Whatever you think.”

      “Tandy, get mean!”

      She turned around and smiled. Then she punched his stomach as hard as she could. Her entire hand went numb from the impact, but it did the job. Mack had sucked in air from the surprise punch. Not a lot of air—not more than a little gulp—but she had actually caught him off guard. Mack shook his head, laughed, then pinned her against the wall. They went nose-to-nose.

      “You ever try a stunt like that again, I’ll kill you!”

      She spit at him. He spit back. Then they both laughed.

      Mack said, “No good. Can’t pump and laugh at the same time.” He stared at her, then squeezed her arms with his massive claws. He thought he was being scary. But nothing, nothing physical, could be as scary as the mind out of control. She bit back the pain and kept eye contact.

      “Good,” Mack whispered. “That was real good, Tandy.”

      She felt him slowly easing the pressure off her arms, then he ran his hands over her breasts. Tandy closed her eyes. It felt good. In another world, she might have delved further. But that wasn’t where she was at now. Mack knew it, too. And really that wasn’t where he was at, either. It was just the touching. Gorgeous bodies like hers and his … they were meant to be touched by those who could truly appreciate them.

      “You ready to sweat, girlie?” he said.

      “Always.”

       7

      The shaking of his shoulder brought Decker into a groggy state of consciousness. He leaped up, then felt unsteady on his legs. He could feel an arm giving him support. He rubbed his eyes and focused on a round, fair face. A body garbed in slacks, sports shirt, and a white coat—Dr. Hendricks. No more scrubs. Decker took that as a very good sign.

      “Are you all right?” Hendricks asked.

      “I fell asleep. I can’t believe I did that.”

      “Happens to the best of us.” The doctor felt the stubble on his chin. “Rina’s progressing well. I just finished putting in the order to move her to the ICU. I don’t expect she’ll stay there long. I just want to make sure we have everything under control. You can see her now. She’s still heavily sedated, so don’t count on a lot of witty repartee.”

      Decker smiled.

      “She was oriented when I spoke to her. Her vitals are good. All indications are she’ll be just fine.”

      “Thank God!”

      Hendricks placed a hand on Decker’s shoulder. “I’ll be around for the next hour or so. I’ll need to talk to you, but I know how anxious you are to see Rina. Peter, I don’t want you shocked by her appearance.”

      “Doctor, I’ve seen everything in any kind of condition imaginable.”

      “It’s different when it’s your wife.”

      Cerebrally, he was prepared. Emotionally, he wasn’t. Her complexion was chalky gray, lips so pale they blended with the rest of her skin tone. Her hair had been pulled off her face. What strands did show were limp with perspiration. Her left arm was attached to a board on the bedrail, the underside bruised and milky white. An I.V. was held in place by big white bandages at her wrist. The rest of her body was covered by a bedsheet. Her sleep seemed deep—not a hint of movement under her delicate lids. He’d seen stiffs with better color. That thought gave him a chill.

      He was afraid to touch her, afraid she might turn to dust like an antique document. Carefully, he edged his hand toward her cheek, letting it rest above her mouth for just a moment, felt her sweet breath upon his palm. He inched his fingers to her lips, then quickly removed his hand. Biting his lower lip, he pulled a chair by her bedside and broke into the shakes. He knew he should call Rina’s parents, but he needed time to convince himself that she was really okay.

      He hugged his body and watched his wife sleep. Forcing himself calm, he took her hand in his, encircled his fingers around hers. She didn’t stir. He didn’t remember how long he sat like that. The next thing he knew, the doctor was waking him again. His eyes went to the wall clock. It was after twelve. Slowly, he extricated his hand from Rina’s. She hadn’t changed position.

      Decker stood and the doctor put his arm around him. He whispered, “Let’s go in my office.”

      “It’s okay to leave her?”

      “Yes, she’s fine.”

      They stepped outside the ICU into a brightly lit hallway, eerie because it was so empty. Then Decker stopped.

      “My daughter!”

      “Your baby’s doing great, Peter. Pediatrician’ll be in tomorrow if you want to talk to him.”

      “No, my other daughter,” Decker said. “She’s nineteen. She was with the baby. I told her to check in with me before she left. If she walked by herself to the parking lot, I’ll wring her neck. You keep thinking there’ll come a time when you’ll stop worrying about your kids …”

      “Nah, it never comes,” Hendricks said.

      “Do you mind if I find out where she is?”

      “Go ahead. My office is room six-seventy-eight B. I’ll wait for you there.”

      Decker

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