Page 40 of The Chad Next Door
Oh, that wasn’t what I meant to say. But all I can think about is the pain, and my dog, and how I’m probably going to lose my foot because the stupid kid had to go running off into the woods after abadger.
“Chad.”
I blink and look up into Hope’s blurry face, and somewhere through the pain fog I come to the realization that I’ve been speaking all of my thoughts out loud.I didn’t mean it, I want to say. I don’t know if that’s true. No, Ididn’tmean it. I didn’t want to make Link bury his face into Hope’s side as he cries. I didn’t want her to look at me like I’ve betrayed her. I didn’t want to become the worst sort of man I could ever be just because I got hurt. My vision fades, my eyes focusing on the hurt in her face until everything goes dark.
Next thing I know, I’m alone on the couch, my foot expertly bandaged and the house quiet around me. It’s the silence that kills me because it tells me one very important thing: I’ve messed up.
Chapter Seventeen
Hope
As I quickly learn, Chadis a complete baby when he’s in pain.
I shouldn’t find it funny, especially given the things he said during the whole bear trap debacle, but I can’t help but find his utter grumpiness absolutely hilarious, which only makes him angrier.
“I can’t believe you’re laughing right now,” he grumbles as I try to shift the pillow beneath his foot. “Ow! You don’t have to move it around so mu—I swear you’re doing this on purpose.”
Maybe a little bit. I’m feeling a lot of feelings and I don’t know what to do with them.
I dropped the kids off at Hank’s as soon as the EMTs arrived and extricated Chad from the trap, which turned out to be a lot easier than I thought it would be. Thankfully, the trap didn’t do much more than bruise him because it mostly caught his boot—I think he passed out from the shock of the injury, rather than the severity—but the paramedic who talked to me before they left told me he’ll probably have a hard time walking for a few days. The trap left some pretty gnarly bruising. The paramedics gave me a pair of crutches and told me they’d call in a prescription for pain meds, and then they were on their way. Their attentiveness really made me appreciate small town medicine compared to the kind of stuff I saw in Tampa because they were so thorough.
I came back to the house not long after getting the kids settled with Hank, and it’s been a battle with Chad ever since.
“How’s that?” I ask, giving the pillow a little wiggle that makes him growl.
He glares at me. “Seriously?”
I glare right on back, which is hard to do when I’m still feeling giggly about the way he’s acting. “That’s for what you said to Link,” I say with a huff. “Hank said he hasn’t said a word since he got there.”
Chad pinches the bridge of his nose. “I said I was sorry.”
“Not to him, you didn’t.”
“Because you won’t let me get off the couch!” He tries to get up again, and I pounce on him, using my body weight to hold him down. He could easily lift me if he tried, but this seems to do the trick at keeping him in place.
“The paramedic said you should take it easy for the next two days,” I remind him. Not that he heard that part himself, but I’ve been good about relaying the important information. Honestly, he’s lucky I’m willing to be such a dutiful nurse. I genuinely thought about leaving him here alone tonight, but then I felt bad. He did kinda rescue my kid from a mountain lion and all. He and…
His expression shifts, like he’s reading my mind. “Has Duke come back yet?” he asks quietly.
I wish I had a different answer. I shake my head. So much for feeling giggly. “I’m so sorry.”
“I need to go look for him. He might be…”
I place my palm over his heart, holding him in place. “If he’s okay, he’ll make it back. You need to rest.” Even if there’s no actual way for me to know this, I think Duke is alive. I don’t know why he wouldn’t have come back to the house yet if he is, but my gut tells me that perfect dog is out there somewhere. He’s fine.
Maybe I just need him to be fine for Chad’s sake.
“Is Link okay?” Chad asks after a moment, and I know he’s afraid to ask.
I know he didn’t mean the things he said about Link. I could see the regret in his eyes, even when he was halfway gone to shock, but it’s a lot harder for a six-year-old to understand that. I did my best, but Link is convinced it’s his fault that Chad got hurt and Duke is missing, and he was pretty much inconsolable. Hank texted about an hour ago and told me Link hasn’t moved from the couch where he’s watching TV, and my heart aches for the kid. He’s too young to carry that kind of guilt.
Chad knows this as well as I do. “Hope,” he croaks. “I have to talk to him. Please.”
“When he’s ready,” I tell him, which might not be for a while. “He’s still struggling with his mom dying, and I think this was just too much for him to handle.”
He tucks some hair behind my ear. “Do you hate me?”
It’s almost like he’s bracing for me to say yes. I probably should hate him, but one moment of fear and pain shouldn’t be enough to discredit all of the good that makes up Chad Briggs. Everyone has moments of weakness, but it doesn’t mean they’re like that all the time.
