Something So Unscripted Read online

  Something So Unscripted

  Natasha Madison

  Something

  So

  Unscripted

  Natasha Madison

  Copyright © 2018 Natasha Madison. E-Book and Print Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons or living or dead, events or locals are entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/ Use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: Melissa Gill with MGBookCovers & Designs

  Book formatting: CP Smith

  Editing done by Jenny Sims Edits4Indies

  Proofing Julie Deaton Author Services by Julie Deatonhttps://www.facebook.com/jdproofs/

  Created with Vellum

  To Denise who held my hand every step of the way loving this book as much as I did.

  To Yamina, Teressa, Lori, Natasha, Yolanda & Sandy for forcing me to write the scene that made this book even better. For holding my hand each time and for never letting me give up.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  Perfect Love Story Sneak Peak

  Acknowledgments

  Something So Right Sneak Peak

  Something So Perfect Sneak Peak

  Something So Irresistible Sneak Peak

  Tempt The Boss Sneak Peak

  Hell And Back Sneak Peak

  Books By Natasha Madison

  Prologue

  Zack

  “Zack.” I hear her voice and just look at my wife. The woman who said she would love me in good times and in bad yet is currently holding a sheet to cover her naked body. The four-carat engagement with matching eternity wedding ring glistens in the light. “It’s just ...” she starts to say, and I look over at the man in bed next to her. In our bed.

  “It’s over.” I say the two words I swore I wouldn’t say no matter how hard it got. No matter how much I saw her push me away, no matter that I always suspected she was cheating on me. Then I look over at the man who I called a brother, the man who stood by my side on and off the ice. “You’re scum.”

  “It just happened,” Colton says, getting out of the bed. At least he’s wearing boxers. His knee is still wrapped from the operation he had last month, which is why he wasn’t on the road with us, which is how I surprised them.

  We were on the road for the whole week and due back tomorrow, but I hightailed it out of there to get home to my family and my son. “It just so happened you walked into my house and slept with my wife?” I ask him, and I have to wonder why I’m not more pissed, why I’m not more angry with them. “You come here and sleep with my wife with my son under the same roof.”

  “Zack,” my wife says, and I look over at her again. Tears are rolling down her cheeks, her perfectly made up face now streaked with the black mascara she always wears. “Please let’s ...”

  I shake my head, putting my hands in my pockets. “Let’s what? Let’s talk about this?” I throw my head back and laugh. “Let’s talk about the fact that our son is in his room dying. Let’s talk about the fact that instead of helping him, you’re just helping yourself. Let’s talk about the fucking fact that instead of being there by his side with me, you chose to escape the fucking reality that our son won’t make it to six years old.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, and I know that I’ve about had it.

  “I’ll give you an hour,” I tell them both. “One hour and I want you packed and at the door when I come back.”

  “But—” she says.

  “But nothing, Chantal. You did what you had to do for you, and now I’m doing what I need to do for our son.”

  I turn and walk out of our bedroom, then down the winding staircase that leads to the big brass front doors. Once outside in the warm Arizona air, I take my phone out of my pocket and call the only person I know who has my back no matter what. My agent and best friend, Jamie.

  He answers after one ring, and it doesn’t surprise me he sleeps with his phone in his hand. “What’s up?” he says, his voice sleepy since it’s four a.m. in New York.

  “I want out of Arizona, make the trade. Call the powers that be; I want out,” I tell him, getting into my Range Rover.

  “You can’t just demand that,” he says, and I hear sheets rustle.

  “Just walked in on Colton fucking my wife, so you can bet your ass I can. Make it happen. Call New York because it’s the only place I’ll go. I don’t care if I take a pay cut.”

  “That fucking scumbag,” he says. “I’ll call them now.”

  “Jamie, there is a top-notch doctor who specializes in cancer in New York. Max Horton’s sister,” I tell him quietly and slowly drive out of my gate.

  “I’ll make it happen,” he says softly. “I’ll let you know what they say.”

  “Jamie, I’m leaving here in a week regardless of what they say,” I tell him and disconnect the call.

  “One week,” I say to myself. “One fucking week.”

  Chapter One

  Denise

  “I hate, hate, hate this coffee,” I say to myself in the little white room in the hospital where I wait for the machine to spit out the worst coffee. The small cup falls into its place as you hear the machine grind to work.

  “Are you still here?” The door opens, and Steve walks in, taking off his white lab coat. Steve and I both work for Hudson Children’s Hospital in the oncology department.

  “Yeah.” I nod my head. “I just have to finish the charts, and then I’m going to take off,” I tell him, looking over at the fifteen charts waiting for my notes. He goes to the small lockers and opens his up to hang his lab coat in there.

  “I don’t know how you’re still standing; it’s been forty-eight hours.” He shakes his head.

  “I took a nap,” I tell him while the coffee machine hisses and releases one last puff, telling me it’s done.

  “Thirty minutes on a cot isn’t a nap.” He shuts the locker door and puts his jacket on, slinging his messenger bag across his shoulder. He opens the bag, grabbing his earphones. “Last time I took a nap on that cot, I woke up with a kink in my neck.”

  I laugh at him. “No, that was from when Olivier climbed on top of you.” I grab the cup of coffee even though drinking it black and without sugar makes it even more bitter. “Don’t think we didn’t see him sneak in here.”
r />   “Did you really?” He smiles.

  “That’s the same smile you wore when you walked out of the room.” I point at him as I sit down, and he shrugs his shoulders.

  “It’s just a little fun,” he says, “and with that, I’m off.” He walks out of the room, and I open my first chart.

  I never thought I would be here, never thought I would be a doctor. I was like every other single girl growing up, waiting for her Prince Charming. Wondering how my wedding would be and how many kids we would have in our perfect little house with the white picket fence.

  Our lives were never smooth, and I think I realized when I was eight that I was never going to have that white picket fence. My alcoholic father had just left my alcoholic mother, and this time, she said it was for good. The only person I could count on was my big brother, Max, who was a hockey superstar in our little Canadian town. He was seven years older than me, and he always made sure I was okay and that I ate.

  When our mother told us that our father was finally gone, it was almost a sigh in relief. The fights would stop, the constant insults that got hurled at each other till one or both passed out, and it was a good thing. Well, boy was I wrong because an alcoholic father is much better than a drug addict stepfather, that is for sure. One day I came home from school, and there they were on that brown matted couch watching Judge Judy. My dirty pink schoolbag fell off my shoulder while my mother took another sip from her bottle of beer; from the looks of all the empties beside her, it was her seventh. “You need to be quiet,” she whispered and slurred at the same time, “he’s sleeping.” She looked over at the man next to her, a man she would later introduce us to as Brian.

  Brian grew uglier by the day; his smell made my stomach crawl, and his teeth were rotted. But nothing, nothing, could prepare me for what was to come when I turned sixteen. By then, Max was playing with the big leagues, and he had a contract with the NHL. I was so proud of my brother when they drafted him. I was the only one there with him; well, me and George, the man who trained him and made sure he succeeded.

  I came home from school, opened the door, and found Brian sprawled on the couch. I ducked my head and tried to walk past him, but his eyes opened, and he looked at me while his tongue did a sucking noise. “You filling out there good,” he said, and I didn’t bother to answer him. It was creepy and made my skin crawl, so when I went to my room, I turned the lock on the flimsy handle. I didn’t even bother leaving my room to eat dinner. I put on my earphones when the shouting started to finish my advanced English report. I don’t know how I did it, but I was at the top of the honor roll, and I couldn’t wait to be done so I could leave this hellhole behind. Max checked in daily, but he was going through so much already that I didn’t want to bother him. Plus, he had just finished a tough season, so I kept it to myself. Until Brian tried to rape me and Max was arrested for beating him to a pulp.

  He took me in, and with the help of Doug Cooney, the owner of the team, he became my guardian. From that moment on, I swore I would make something of myself, and I did. After graduating high school a year early, I found that medicine piqued my interest. The whole healing people and making them better—I wanted to do that. I wanted to be the reason someone was going to get better.

  My cell phone ringing pulls me out of my walk down memory lane when I see it’s my sister-in-law, Allison. “Hello, my favorite doctor sister-in-law.”

  I greet her and hear crying in the background. “I’m your only doctor sister-in-law.” She laughs.

  “Is that my niece crying?” I ask her, thinking of how different Max is ever since they met. It was love at first hate with those two. Somehow, they worked their way through the long history, and I have to say I’ve never seen my brother happier or more in love with someone than his wife.

  “She’s teething,” she tells me, “and your brother jut left, so she’s pissed that she has to settle with me.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “She is such a daddy’s girl.”

  “She knows how to play him. She may only be one, but the minute her lower lip starts to tremble, it’s game over for your brother.”

  “Last time I took her from him, she just looked at him and got the biggest tears in her eyes,” I tell her, “so he snatched her away and told me not to bother her.”

  “Yup, sounds like him,” she says, “but I’m calling to invite you over for dinner tonight, if you don’t have any plans.”

  “Well, I did have plans to make my bed my bitch,” I tell her, thinking of the king-size bed waiting for me at home.

  “How long have you been on?” She asks the dreaded question.

  “Long enough,” I respond, and she hums. “I guess if I can take a nap when I get there, we should be good.”

  “It’s a deal. If I’m not home, just come in and make yourself at home,” she tells me, and we hang up.

  I finally finish doing the charts and am walking out a little past noon when my phone rings, and I see it’s Max.

  “Well, well, well,” I say, smiling when I answer the phone. “If it isn’t the big and bad Mad Max,” I tease him, knowing he hates that nickname.

  “I swear I will never live that fucking name down,” he says of the nickname that Allison gave him when she was public relations for the team.

  “I heard you are coming over for dinner. Need a ride?” he asks as I walk down the street toward the subway entrance. “I can pick you up in five; practice was cut early.”

  “That would work,” I tell him. “I just left the hospital. Where do you want me to meet you?” I ask, looking around. Hearing a beep, I see he is right behind me, so I hang up and open the door to his truck, getting in. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” I lean over and kiss his cheek.

  “You look tired,” he says, pulling away from the curb.

  “That’s because I am tired,” I tell him. “But I’m off for the next three days. It’s going to be glorious.” Smiling, he drives away from the city to his house in Long Island.

  He had a loft in SoHo, but he gave it to me when he and Allison decided that my nephew, Michael, needed a yard to run around in.

  Closing my eyes, I put my head back against the rest, and the next thing I know, he is pulling up to his house. “You can sneak upstairs and nap and then come back downstairs,” he says to me, and I just nod. When we walk into the house, I walk up the winding staircase to the spare bedroom. Undressing to my bra and underwear, I pull myself under the thick blankets. I don’t even bother closing the shades because by the time my head hits the pillow, I’m already asleep.

  “Auntie Dede.” I hear whispered. “Auntie Dede.” I open one eye and see my blue-eyed nephew smiling at me. “Surprise,” he whispers. “I made you a picture,” he says, holding up the white sheet that he just colored on.

  “Come cuddle with me,” I tell him, and he crawls on the bed and sits by my stomach, and then lies down. I kiss his head and bring him close to me. “I missed you.”

  “I know,” he says, and I laugh.

  “Did anyone tell you that you’re perfect?” I ask him, kissing him on his cheek, and he just nods his head.

  “You tell me all the time,” he says, giggling when I kiss him behind his ear. “Daddy said it’s almost time to eat,” he says.

  “Okay.” I stretch now, groaning. “Tell him I’m coming.”

  He runs out of the room, and I think he’s going to wait till he gets downstairs to tell Max. “Daddy, she said she’s coming!” he yells as he slams the door, and I smile. I pull my comfy blue jeans back on and slip into my light blue button-down shirt and tuck it in, then pin my brown hair on top of my head. As I make my way down the steps, the sound of a strange voice catches me off guard.

  I walk into the kitchen and hear, “Thank you so much for having me.” His back is to me, and I’m not sure who he is.

  “It is our pleasure,” Allison says as she looks over and sees me. “And here she is, the woman of the hour.” I tilt my head to the side while the man turns around, and I’
m stuck in place.

  His crystal blue eyes pierce right through me. His light brown hair almost a buzz cut. His days-old stubble matches his tanned face, but I don’t really look much at him. Instead, I look at the little boy standing in front of him; the little boy with the same blue eyes as the man except they don’t light up. “Denise, I’d like you to meet Zack and Jack Morrow.” I hear Allison say, but I never wander from Jack’s eyes and the pull that I have to him, the need to go to him. I finally look up at my brother, who stands there with his daughter on his hip.

  “Dr. Horton,” Zack says, and my insides flip a bit when I turn back to look at the man. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, and then Jack finally speaks.

  “Daddy said you’re going to make me all better.” His voice comes out like a whisper, and I see what I already knew—he’s sick. The hat on his head is hiding the fact he doesn’t have hair, the brim pulled low showing that his eyebrows are not there either.

  I inhale and put on the smile that I do for all my patients. “Let’s see what I can do.” But this time, I’m not sure that even I can help.

  Chapter Two

  Zack

  “We have to put your seat belt on now. We are landing.” I lean over and buckle Jack’s seat belt. I smile down at my son, who looks around slowly and smiles, his eyes getting heavier and heavier.