Page 65 of Heart Strain

23

Holden

Walking beside Drix’s hospital bed as he’s wheeled down the hall really hits home that he can’t walk yet. He’s been pretty pissy the past couple of weeks because he’s not progressing, and it’s starting to worry me. Keeping the worry off my face is a challenge, but I can’t help it. What if he never walks again? He won’t be able to go back out there on the streets for his job, and I know that’ll kill him. He lives for being a cop.

But the doctors and physical therapists have told me to stay positive and encourage him because whether he walks again or not is going to be entirely up to him. He’s the only one that can push himself and build up his strength, all I can do is hold his hand and be there for him through the ups and downs.

When the doors of the hospital slide open, I see an ambulance waiting there with two guys leaning on the back where the doors are open. It looks like they’re taking a break because the shorter guy with dark brown hair is eating something as he chats with the big, muscular blond-haired guy. The blond suddenly leans over and eats the bite right off the brunette’s fork, and the guy nudges him with a laugh. And then they both seem to notice us at the same time because they straighten up and the short guy stuffs his food container into the ambulance behind them.

“You guys are transporting Hendrix Weston, correct?” the guy pushing Drix’s bed asks.

The short guy says with a smile, “Yep!” Then he looks between Drix and me. “I’m Symon and this is Tanner.”

The other guy waves because he’s still chewing.

I reach out my hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.” They both shake my hand, and I say, “This is Drix.”

My brother barely spares them a glance, and I frown at his grumpy-ass before Symon and Tanner swiftly get Drix’s bed into the ambulance. I hop into the back with Symon, and Tanner goes around front to drive. Symon takes Drix’s vitals and asks him a few questions that I end up having to answer because my brother is being a stubborn ass. So when Symon starts talking to Tanner, I lean in and ask Drix, “What’s wrong?”

He sighs and eyes me. “I hate being stuck in this bed. I feel ridiculous having people push me around and shit.”

I squeeze his hand. “Well, once you get to the rehabilitation center, you’ll be able to move around more.”

“Whatever.”

I frown at him, and Symon shoots me a sympathetic smile.

I’m daydreaming when I overhear Tanner say, “Beefcake better not have chewed on my shoe again.”

Symon laughs. “Maybe if you learned to put your shoes away, he couldn’t get to them.” They both laugh and Symon catches my eye, then shrugs. “We have a pet pig that has an obsession with Tan’s shoes.”

I chuckle. “A pet pig named Beefcake?”

“Yep. My boyfriends got him for me.”

“Something we regret every day,” Tanner says from the front.

Symon laughs. “You both love him.” He looks at me. “He’s adorable.”

Did he say boyfriends—as in plural? “I bet.”

“Do you have pets?”

“I have a dog, and my boyfriend has two cats.” I’m not sure why I mention Foxy’s pets; we’re not even living together.

“That’s awesome. Do you happen to know if your vet takes pigs?”

My eyebrows rise and Drix grunts out, “He’s a vet.”

Symon eyes me. “You’re a veterinarian?”

“Yep.”

“You work with pigs? I’m looking for someone new.”

“I don’t do farm animals, just cats, dogs, birds, and small animals, but I just accepted a new position and one of the other guys does. I can give you the number to the office. He’s a really good doctor.”

“That would be awesome.”

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