Page 5 of Forever Wild
“Maybe I should come home.”
“Don’t do that,” I say. She would do it because she’s just that caring, but it isn’t her fault that Jack is beingdifficult. “There has to be someone else that can take care of him who also won’t let him be a big jerk just because he’s in pain.”
“I think most of the nurses are afraid of him. The others probably want to sleep with him.”
He does seem to have that sort of effect on people.
“Do you want me to go check on him?” I offer because I know it’s what she’d do if our roles were reversed, then silently pray she says no. Jack and I butt heads on the best of days.
“Would you?” Her tone is tentative like she isn’t sure that’s a good idea, but she doesn’t have a better one.
That makes two of us.
Dammit. I did not havedeal with Jackon my to-do list today or I would have started the day with some yoga or Zen music. I let out a quiet, resolved breath. “Yeah, of course. I’ll stop by, tell him to stop being a pain in the ass, and you can keep enjoying your vacation. Are you and Ash having fun?”
I hear her fiancé’s muffled voice on the other end, something that sounds a lot like kissing, and then her giggle.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say. “I’ll text you after I see Jack.”
“Thank you, Ev,” she says, then adds, “Be nice.”
“I’ll make no such promise.”
2
RUNNING ON COFFEE AND FURY
JACK
“What are you doing?” Sandra, the nurse sent to check on me today, glares at me as I stand after her assessment of my knee (it’s still fucked) and start toward the kitchen with my phone in one hand. “Where is your cane?”
“I think I left it in the bedroom.” I carefully hobble the short distance, using furniture and the wall to help keep me upright.
“I still need to run a few more vitals and then help you through some exercises. The doctor asked me to bring a walker. It’s out in my van. We could take a short walk down the sidewalk. It’s a beautiful day out.” Her voice brightens and she smiles at me. Why the fuck is she smiling at me? That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Maybe she’s kidding.
Pushing to a stand, she says, “I’ll go grab it while you take a short break.”
It’s bad enough that I’m holed up in my housein this condition. There’s no way I’m going outside for the whole world to see me like this. I shake my head, “Thank you for stopping by, but I don’t need anything else. I’ll do the therapy on my own.”
Her smile falls into a disapproving scowl. “That isn’t how this works. I have orders from the doctor.”
“And my orders are that you’re no longer needed.”
With a huff, she heads off in the direction of my room, presumably to get my cane and beat me with it.
My attention falls to the phone clutched in my hand. I stop once I’m in the kitchen and read the news alert that popped up while she was examining my surgery incisions.
Florida Wins Cup!
Last night Florida defeated Colorado in game four, winning the series in a blowout 8-0 and adding their name to the Cup. For many fans it was a lackluster end to the hockey season.
The heavily favored Wildcats lost captain Jack Wyld after a severe car accident last month. Without the center and six-year captain, the Wildcats fell to Colorado in the semi-finals.
My grip on the phone tightens until it slips from my hand, clattering onto the counter. It’s just one of many articles that have been written about how my fuck up derailed my team’s season, but each one cuts deep.
Before I can reach for my phone, it starts ringing. I want to ignore it. Actually, what I want to do is throw it out the goddamn window, but when Nick’s name flashes on the screen, I know I have to answer. If I don’t, he’ll show up here. And more people invading my space is the only thing I can think of that would make this day worse.
I take a few steadying breaths before I accept the call.
