Page 25 of Ice
Her hand rested on my knee, and damn, her heat seeping into me was everything. In that moment it was comfort, and safety, and respect, and being seen. Being understood.
“Couple of years back, I came off my bike, but it wasn’t that bad, you know. Landed badly on my side, but the bike, that was all I cared about. Surface damage. I was so lucky. You come off wrong, and the bike can be fucked. I laughed it off, as we do, and I got her home, and started working on making her perfect again. I hurt, of course I did, but it wasn’t unbearable. Didn’t see a doc or anything.”
She squeezed my knee lightly. I found myself focusing every ounce of my attention on her hand, to try and distance myself from the waves of pain in my shoulder and arm.
“Did you see a doctor later?”
I nodded. Of course I fucking did, but by then maybe it was already too late.
“Yeah… there’s this thing doctors do, when they don’t have a fucking clue what your injury is. They do scans, and x-rays, and physio, and then they give it a dumb label, like they’ve figured it out. Truth is, my shoulder is likely permanently damaged, and there’s nerve damage, and I get these… hellish spasms of pain that radiate across my shoulder, up into my neck, and down my arm, and even across part of my chest. It’s all related to that injury, but you… you know what they call it? Biker’s Arm. Yeah… apparently we’re prone to dropping bikes on ourselves, or landing badly when we crash, and they just give it this stupid childish name, which means they don’t give a fuck, and they don’t know how to fix it.”
She looked horrified, squeezing my knee again. I marvelled at the fact that I could feel that over the agonising clenching in my shoulder and neck.
“Jesus.” I tried tipping my head back, but it caused an additional twinge of pain, and I didn’t need any more fucking pain.
“Are you better off lying down?” I glanced at Lissa, seeing the worry on her face.
“Probably, but I’m here now. Can you maybe just stick another cushion behind my head, please? I have to wait it out.”
She wedged a cushion behind my head, and I sagged against it, relaxing my neck and shoulders with a hiss of pain.
“How long does it last?”
I clenched my other fist. “If I’m lucky, twenty minutes or so.”
She reached up, pressing her hand against the side of my face. Wow, her touch was soothing, and arousing all at once.
“And if you’re not?”
I fucking hoped I’d have luck on my side this time.
“Forty five minutes, maybe an hour.”
“Of spasms?”
“Yeah.”
Lissa
Nowonderhehadresorted to other methods of numbing his nerves and senses. No fucking wonder. He didn’t often verbalise the pain he was in, but I could see him flinch now and then, his forehead creasing up, presumably when another spasm tore through his shoulder. I wished I could do something to help him.
“The painkillers don’t even work, do they?”
He sighed. “Mostly they just numb it a little. The spasms won’t stop until they’re done.”
“Did something cause this? I’ve never seen you like this before.”
He smirked briefly. “Tried to punch Has-Been. Sudden movements are not my friend, and this is my punishment for wanting to punch his lights out.”
“What did he do?”
“You know what. He was mouthing off about you being up here. In fact, I’m really surprised Reacher hasn’t been in, to make sure we’re not up to anything untoward.”
I stared warily at the door.
“This would be a bad time for him to come in though, right, because he doesn’t know about your pain.”
“Exactly, Doc. That’s why you get paid the big bucks… because you’re smart.” He cursed and flinched again, and I reached for his hand, the one not gripping his shoulder. He let me take his hand, squeezing my fingers lightly.
