Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“You mean, act like an asshole?” She sniffled.
“Yes.”
She wiped her cheeks. “You do it well.”
I met her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I really am.”
She stood. “Actions speak louder than words. If you’re sorry about being an asshole, there’s a simple solution. Stop being one. I’m going to go get the doctor.”
I watched her leave, my lips quirking of their own violation. She was pissed at me.
With a groan, I closed my eyes. I was pissed at myself. I never should have been up on that roof.
Now, I was injured. But the question was, what was next?
* * *
I had my answer fairly quickly. Dr. Michaels went over my injuries in more detail than Ava, his manner calm and direct.
“You’ll be out of the sling in a few days, although the shoulder will ache for a while. The ribs will take six to eight weeks to heal. Your ankle, four weeks. We did a CT scan of your head and it looked fine, but you’ll probably have a headache for several days. I won’t lie. You’re going to feel like you got hit by a freight train for the next while. Your recovery will be a slow one. We’ll keep you another day, then you can be released to your fiancée here, who assures me you’ll be well cared for. We’ll follow up as an outpatient.”
Hearing the word fiancée was a jolt even though Ava had explained her reasons to me. It was his other statement, though, that hit me.
“How slow will this be? When can I walk?”
“No weight-bearing on the ankle for two weeks.”
“It’s a sprain. I’ve had them before.”
He shook his head. “This is a bad one. I’m shocked it’s not broken. You will recover from all of your injuries, Mr. Owens, but they’re going to take time. You rush it, you could do further damage. Believe me, the first time you try to move, you’ll understand.”
He paused by the door, talking to Ava in a quiet voice. I blew out a long breath. If I was being honest, I already understood. Lifting my head felt as if a marching band were inside my skull. As I tried to shift, my entire body ached. My shoulder felt as if it was on fire, and my ribs screamed if I took in too deep a breath. I could only imagine what fun sitting up was going to be.
Gentle fingers across my brow brought me out of my musings. Ava peered down at me. “Do you need more pain meds?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, I’ll ask the nurse for some.”
She began to leave, and I grabbed at her hand. “You’re coming back, right?” I asked, suddenly anxious.
“I am.”
“Good. That’s good,” I mumbled, letting my eyes shut. The darkness was a relief. The feel of Ava’s lips on my cheek was soft and fleeting, but intensely comforting.
I couldn’t delve into the reason behind that comfort. At least, not right now.
* * *
I slept on and off, immediately looking for Ava when my eyes would open. She was always there, sitting in the chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. She would take my hand in comfort as if sensing my need.
My head felt clearer later in the day, and when I woke, Ava was speaking with a woman. She held a clipboard and was asking Ava about my situation when I left the hospital. Ava’s voice was firm when she spoke.
“He’ll be staying with me. Any therapy or appointments he requires will be looked after.”
Neither woman noticed I was awake. I wanted to speak up and object to Ava’s remark, but I stayed quiet.
“He’ll need a lot of care at first,” the woman pointed out.
“I’m aware. It will get less as he heals. I’ll get additional help as needed.”
They went into the hall, and I frowned. Ava was going to look after me? I wanted to tell them I didn’t need help, but I knew that was a lie. I couldn’t move without pain, and there was no way I could look after myself. But I didn’t want that burden on Ava either.
She came back into the room, meeting my eyes. “You’re awake.”
“I can’t ask you to look after me.”
“Good thing you didn’t ask, then.”
“Ava—”
She held up her hand, stopping me. “Hunter, you can’t go home. You can’t be alone. I have a guest room with a walk-in shower. I can work from home most of the time and there are lots of people in the compound who will step in when I have to go to work.”
“You expect your family to care for me?” I shook my head. “Not happening.”
She leaned over me, her gaze serious, her tone firm. “It can happen and it will. You can’t be alone. How would you even care for Cash? Stop being so stubborn, Hunter. You won’t be able to walk on your own for a while. You can’t use crutches until the shoulder heals. And then how would you get around? Your ribs will be so sore, you won’t be able to cook or get dressed on your own. So, it’s either a rehab hospital in Toronto or at the house with me. They’ll send someone to bathe you for the first while. In a few weeks, once you’ve recovered, we’ll see what happens. But until then, I’m in charge. Got it?”