Page 60 of Playing for Keeps (Checkmate 4)

Just get to the toilet. Sit down. Dry off. One step at a time.

Hopping just once, then sliding half an inch with a pounding heart, I stop again and clutch to the railing with heaving lungs. My adrenaline runs triple time – because Dee left, and because I wasthisclose to slipping and ending it all – so I take a moment to pull my shit together, then I shuffle rather than hop and make my way to the toilet.

Sitting with a grunt, and running the towel over my body to collect the excess water, I find another ten minutes of my life – maybe twenty, who knows – pass me by while I stare at the tiles and reconsider sacrificing Dee. She helped that old vet walk again, so maybe I can hire her to help me. It doesn’t change the inevitable, but it keeps her close for a little while longer. It keeps her here on a professional basis, so sex won’t ever come up, it provides her with an income, which in a warped way, means I’m supporting her. My savings won’t last forever, but a couple months…

I could have Dee for a couple months, then I could start the process of pissing her off all over again until she’s gone for real before the foreclosure signs go up in the yard.

My plan has so many holes, it’s ridiculous, but it provides me with a moment of relief as I consider an alternate reality.

Bracing with one hand on the toilet and reaching out for my crutches, I pull them closer and have to constantly remind myself I can’t step forward. It’s programmed in my head; step forward, keep my balance, but there’s nothing there now, and stepping onto my stump might legitimately kill me with the pain.

I slide the crutches under my arms and prepare the next part of my journey – across wet tiles and out the door. I should’ve planned this better. I should hire someone to come in and install non-slip mats throughout the whole bathroom.

But that would cost money, and if I’m spending my savings, I’d rather use it to buy time with Dee.

Moving forward slowly and stepping onto plush carpet with a relieved sigh, I move around the pile of clothes still on the floor and choke at the sight of her jeans on top of my sweats. Her top lies inside-out on top of my coat.

Slowly moving to the walk-in closet, I select a pair of clean sweats and a long sleeve shirt. My house is still freezing, and my balls threaten war if I don’t warm up fast, so I toss my clothes across the room until they land on the foot of my bed, then stopping by the pile on the floor, I risk it all and slowly work on bending low. I squat on the one leg, strain the unused muscles almost until they fail, and barely snag Dee’s top with the tips of my fingers. Standing again and panting like I did something more herculean than a single squat, I stand with the crutches under my arms and bring her shirt up. With my eyes closed and a heavy heart, I breathe her in until her scent goes down to my toes and swirls in my chest.

Five more minutes.

Please God, just give me five more minutes with her.

I was never a religious guy – not as a boy, and not now as a man, despite my mother’s encouragement to believe in the deity – so of course my prayers go unanswered. Why would they grant my wish when I pray only when it benefits me? And if thereisa higher power, then he or she already took my leg, which proves their thoughts on my life and choices not to worship over the last thirty years.

I’m on my own over here.

Moving to my bed and sitting on the end, I start dressing in fresh clothes and absorb the pleasure of being clean again for the first time in weeks. My body feels lighter, my head clearer, my pain just that little bit more tolerable.

Pulling on the sweats and rolling up the left to expose my…stump, I turn and pull my shirt over my head and shove my arms into the sleeves. Parts of my body are still wet, so the fabric sticks to my skin, but I’m clean for the first time since my world ended, and Andi finally walked out on me, so I’ll accept the small victory in being clean and able to do it on my own, and I’ll inhale the scent attached to her shirt until I can accept she finally left.

I think I’m supposed to wrap my leg again. I think I’m supposed to keep it wrapped and braced basically all the time, so I pull myself back to standing and maneuver the crutches under my arms.

The bandages are in the kitchen, and right now, that seems so far away it may as well be in another country, but since I’m a dick and push everyone away, I need to take a more involved role in my recovery. I need to ask more questions.

No one else is going to do it.

Hobbling toward my bedroom door, I open it wide and step onto the hardwood floor. I’m faster on my crutches now, so when I get going, it’s more of a glide, rather than a baby giraffe standing for the first time.

Ninja darts across the end of the hall, running from kitchen to living room like the world is her playground, but her playfulness is a welcome distraction…

Until I step into the kitchen and stop at the sight of Andi sitting on my kitchen island with one leg folded over the other, and her light eyes representing the devil himself. “Dee?” My heart skitters in my chest, slamming hard and stealing the breath from my lungs. “I thought you left?” I clear my throat. “I mean, I told you to leave.”

“But honeypie, I couldn’t possibly leave my fiancé in this dire time of need.” Her eyes twinkle. “It wouldn’t be proper for me to leave my smoochie-poo when you’re so obviously in need of a caretaker, so I’m just gonna park my ass right here, and I’m never leaving you.” She lifts a hand and points a finger in my direction. “Never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. You can just consider me your forever girl, baby, because I’m a woman obsessed.”

“You’re fuckin’ insane is what you are.” And so unbelievably sexy, it almost –almost! – makes my dick twitch. I hate that she’s playing crazy, but inside, I just think she’s cute. I hate that I want to keep her forever andnever, ever, everlet her go.

Moving forward on my crutches, I stop in front of the counter and grab her wrist to pull her down. “You have to go, Dee. You have to live your own–”

Andi’s arm comes around so fast, I don’t see it coming. I don’t see the silver glint. I don’t see shit until she snaps the cuff around my wrist and slams the lock home.

“What–” I’m in shock. My brain literally can’t compute. “What the fuck?”

She slides off the counter until our chests press together. Lifting her bound hand, she shows off a delicate wrist wearing the other cuff. “I learned this was a good tactic to keep a runner close. I’m not leaving, you stupid asshole, so if this is what it takes to get my message across, then this is what I’ll do.” She bounces her brows and slides her spare hand over my pec. “I’ll carry you to bed if you like. I can make you forget your troubles for an hour.”

“Dee…”

She ignores my growl and stands on her tiptoes. Before I can process what the fuck she intends to do, she nips at my jaw, crunches down hard enough it sends electricity to my stomach, then slides her tongue over top to soothe. “Yeah. You think I didn’t hear you call me Dee in the shower? You think I don’t hear it now? You don’t want me to leave any more than I want you to say you don’t want me. Stop with the martyr bullshit and admit you wanna fuck me. Then once we finish fucking, you can admit you love me, too.”

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