by Kristy Marie
I flash him a little wink. “No one would dare defy me.”
Except Theo. But Cade doesn’t need to know that.
When I return with the thickest quilt I can find, Cade is curled back into the fetal position like I found him. I wonder if it’s a defensive position or if this man is truly broken, inside and out?
I double the blanket, positioning it on his torso, making sure the heat stays centered over his heart. You worry about the internal organs staying warm the most. People can live without an arm but if the heart stops beating…
I rub down his back. “You think you can eat some soup?”
He rolls over to face me. “You don’t have to do all this for me.”
Have mercy. Not again. I give him the stink eye. “That’s not what I asked you. Would you like for me to repeat the question?”
He sighs, defeated. “Yes, ma’am. I think I can keep some down.” I give him a whole-faced smile and pat his thigh. “See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
He shakes his head, lightly chuckling. “No, I guess not.”
I hurry back to the kitchen, knowing I only have a few soup options. I quickly decide on chicken noodle and pop it in the microwave like I used to in college. When it beeps, I load the tray with essentials and flip the switch, turning on the lamp so I can see to set it down on the nightstand. In the lamplight, Cade is nestled under the covers. His eyes open at the sound of my entrance, blinking as he adjusts to the light. Without a word, I help him prop up on the pillows, settling the tray of soup over his legs.
“Take small bites. Don’t overload your stomach with too much food at one time.” He nods in understanding.
I grab the trash can just in case as Cade takes a hesitant sip.
I know he must be starved and feel fairly certain he’s about to inhale this food and barf.
I’ve seen it a million times.
Trash can in hand; I approach his bedside and confirm he did, in fact, inhale the soup. I make a face and he shrugs his shoulders as if to say, I can’t help it.
“Let me know if it’s going to come up,” I say on a sigh.
He nods, his eyes going wide a few seconds later before his face takes on a green hue. And… he’s going to puke.
Shoving the trash can at him, Cade heaves and all the soup comes up in one disgusting splat.
Did I not tell him?
“I’ll be back,” I say, ignoring his frown, and head out of the room and to my office. I rifle through the labeled drawers, grabbing the essentials to start an IV. Cade is pretty dehydrated, that much is obvious. Warm fluids will help bring up his core temperature. I grab everything I can, and hurry back to the guest room to find Cade sitting on the side of the bed shivering.
You have got to be kidding me. “Get back in the bed,” I order.
Cade raises his head to look at me. “I need to go. I am so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you. Thank you for everything.” He rises on his unsteady legs and I die a little inside. “I’ll get these back to you,” he adds, pinching the borrowed shirt between his fingers.
“Are you done, Gorgeous?” I ask when he stops to take a breath.
He blinks at me, confused, but I don’t let him speak. “Good. Now that you got that out of your system, get back to bed.” I nod, indicating the bed, rumpled from his ungainly exit.
Being the stubborn-ass that he is, he doesn’t move.
I was expecting that and roll my eyes extra dramatic as I set down the supplies. Without looking back, I repeat, “Get. In. The. Damn. Bed. Cade.” After a beat, I hear the sheets rustle. Finally. I thought I was going to have to push him.
Kidding. Sort of.
Cade is resting on the pillows, when I turn around, his lower half covered by the blankets. I plop down beside him and focus all my attention on those beautiful mint eyes.
“You really don’t have to do this,” he tries again.
“Of course, I do. I’m a doctor. It’s a law or something. You’ll cause me to go to jail if you don’t let me help you.” I quirk my lips, daring him to argue. I don’t think that’s exactly how the law goes. I think it’s: do no harm. The rendering aid thing is probably just giving a fuck and being a decent human.
“Thank you,” he rasps out sincerely.
Hoping he will just lay off all this, I nod and ready the IV. I hold up the needle for him to inspect. “Are you scared of needles?”
His face pulls taught for a moment and his lips tip down in a frown. “No, I wouldn’t say I’m scared, but I don’t care for them.”
I wave off his comment and pull the pole closer to the bed. “No one cares for them.” Cade tracks the movement with his eyes. I pat his arm, “I’m going to start an IV in your arm. Do you know what that is?”
He nods but still looks wary.
“You’re dehydrated from the look of things.” I rake my eyes over his body and he shifts uncomfortably with my assessment. “These are warm fluids,” I explain. “They will help accelerate warming your core body temp.” He swallows, looking nervous, so I rub his arm in a soothing motion. “Will you trust me, Cade? I know you probably don’t trust many people, but I am asking you to trust me. Let me help you.”
He swallows hard but gives me a quiet “okay.”
Before he changes his mind, I stretch his arm out flat and tie off the tourniquet to feel for a vein. I work, cleaning the skin thoroughly with an alcohol wipe before I caution him, “You’re going to feel a pinch, okay? Breathe normally and look away.”
He nods and follows my directions.
“Pinch,” I warn before sliding the needle into the vein. He flinches as the needle pierces the skin but doesn’t shout obscenities, as is Theo’s customary response when I have to stick him.
“All done,” I soothe as I tape everything down.
Cade looks at my handiwork and mumbles a tired thank you, his eyes red and droopy, his face scrunched in fatigue. Setting the drip rate for the fluids, I instruct him to lay all the way down and by some miracle, he does without arguing.
I pull the blankets up to his chin and tuck them under his hip. “Get some rest. I’m across the hall if you need anything.”
He clears his throat. “Thank you.”
I smile and leave, pulling the door behind me, and leaving it cracked. I want to be able to hear if he needs anything.
I clean up the mess in the bathroom, trying to be quiet. After wiping down the sink and tub, I gather all the towels to take them to the laundry room and set the washer before ambling into the kitchen to scrounge food for myself. I stand at the fridge for a solid five minutes before giving up and grabbing a pack of crackers and flopping down on my shabby chic, vintage sofa.
I grab the remote and a blanket, finally finding a comfortable position when my phone rings out the Sunday Night Football Jingle. Something Theo doesn’t find funny. Dammit. Somebody better be on fire.
I toss the blanket off, cursing obscenities to whoever is on the line. A quick glance at the caller ID reveals it’s none other than Theo.
Swiping right, I answer with a, “What?”
“What? What the fuck crawled up your ass this afternoon?” His tone is a little sour. Okay. So maybe that wasn’t my best greeting.
“Ugh. Nothing.” I try to add a little sweetness to my voice. “I’m tired and just sat down when you called.” I’ve missed him and I do want to talk to him but now isn’t the best time.
“Oh,” he says quietly. “Why are you tired?”
Is that nervousness I detect out of Von Bremen? Ha! He thinks I have been up all night. He would shit a brick and be here faster than he could undo a bra clasp if he knew I’d just been nursing my newly acquired bum back to the land of the living.
“Oh, you know, just double shifts at the hospital. Making that money.” I laugh at myself.
Theo’s quiet for so long I think he hung up. A quick glance at the phone tells me he hasn’t. “Theo? Are you still there?”
“What are you up to, Ans?” His voice is accusatory and I don’
t know if I appreciate his disbelief of my lie. It’s not even a lie, really. I have been working. Today, I just have been working on Cade.
I scoff at him. “What do you mean? I’ve been working, asshole.”
He “uh huhs” me, which really sets my nerves ablaze. I take a breath, ready to give him an earful when he cuts me off, his voice excited. “Did you see the game last night?”
Of course I saw it. I never miss a game but I like to make him think he’s not that important. It helps with keeping his ego contained to this hemisphere.
“Uh, yeah, I think I did. Why? Did you do something awesome?” He’s silent for the longest time, while I try to maintain my seriousness, but can’t. Theo pouting is really cute. In person, it practically makes my panties sing a little song. I bark out a laugh. “Oh! That’s right; you struck out that dicksucker, Maddox!”
“All for you, baby,” he laughs, his voice perking up tremendously.
I hate Stephan Maddox. He made some sleazy comment to me at one of the league functions last year and I had to restrain Theo from attacking him. To placate Theo, I asked him to strike his ass out next time he came to the plate. And my boy always delivers.
“Damn right. I never doubted you.”
For the next half hour, Theo fills me in on the all the gossip I have been missing in the locker room. He tells me about the rookies who have come on board and all the usual pranks they are receiving. Several of them I know were Theo’s idea. Putting hair remover in the shampoo bottles… That shit was all Theo.
I fill him in on all things hospital and the small town of Madison, which is basically a bunch of nothing. After that, I drill him on his shoulder. He tore his tendon late last season, and we have been working really hard to get him strong and ready for this new season. He assures me he is behaving and following my strict instructions. He’ll be back next week and I will feel better when I look him over with my own eyes, in more ways than one. We end the call with him promising to call me after the game tonight to talk strategy about the next game against his nemesis.
I must have dozed off at some point because when I wake it’s dark outside. Standing slowly, I stretch the tight muscles in my back when a whimpering noise stops me mid-stretch. The sound is coming from somewhere close by. I open the front door a smidge but I can’t see much. Whatever it is, it’s not waiting to attack me in the porch light.
Cade! I can’t believe I forgot he was here.
I slam the door and flip the lock, rushing to Cade’s door. What I find behind the door will forever be burned in my brain. There, on the floor, hands pulling at his mocha-colored hair, Cade is shaking and covered in sweat.
I ease down to my knees and very softly call his name.
His head snaps up, and his eyes are wild. “Go away!” he shouts. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hurt me? Well, that’s not what I was expecting. I quickly take in his state and notice his IV has become dislodged.
Hesitating, I run through the little psych experience I have. Cade’s jaw is tight, and he’s rocking almost as if he’s trying to self soothe.
Dammit, Ans. Theo is right, no good deed goes unpunished. You are about to die in your damn guest room.
I need to figure a way out of this.
Think Anniston!
I notice a tattoo on his upper arm. Semper Fi. A military tattoo. Ah, ha! It all makes sense now. He’s a veteran. No wonder I felt a connection. I know firsthand about military men and women coming home after wars and not knowing how to function in society. Most of them do end up homeless, some of them dead.
The pain resonates deep in my soul as I take in this beautiful, broken man who once was probably a heartbreaker. I bet it’s PTSD. Just thinking about it brings back bad memories. Memories that are too hard to deal with right now. This whole situation is upsetting. I need to get my head together and help this man who fought for my freedom.
Inhaling a deep, ragged breath, I crawl toward Cade. He notices and immediately scoots away from me. Okay, so this may be harder than I thought.
“Cade,” I soothe. “You are not going to hurt me and I am not going to hurt you.” I move another inch closer.
“You’re bleeding. Will you let me look at it? I want to be sure you’re okay.” Another inch.
Cade still looks feral, but he doesn’t move away from me. “Do you know where you are?”
He looks around the room and nods.
“Can you tell me?” I want him to talk. I need to know where his head is.
His hands release the tight grip on his hair. “Your house.”
“That’s right,” I praise, moving the last foot toward him. I take his face in my hands and caress his cheeks, allowing my thumbs to rub comforting circles over the stubble. I can’t be sure how much time passes but eventually I feel his body relax beneath my hands.
“Can I take a look at your arm?” I ask after a moment.
I note his shaking has lessened and his face has regained some color. Frost-green eyes take in the blood pooling through the hair on his arm. I place my hand over it, hoping blood isn’t a trigger for him.
Grimacing, he nods at me, indicating that I can examine his arm. I grab some gauze I left on the bedside table earlier and instruct Cade to hold pressure while I grab more supplies. When I return, he’s doing as he was told, but his gaze tells me he’s far away from here. “Cade?” I ask cautiously. “You still with me, Gorgeous?”
With a deep inhale, he mumbles, “Yeah, I’m with you.”
Smiling, I drop back down to his side. He’s with me. That’s all that matters. I slap a bandage over the wound that has already stopped bleeding and open another needle.
Cade immediately groans. “I really think I’m okay, Anniston.”
I don’t acknowledge this—or the fact he used my name—and continue working until I have the tourniquet tied off. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair but doesn’t try to deter me. See? He has learned it’s pointless to argue with me. He ought to give Theo some pointers—that ass will argue with a mailbox.
Palpating a new vein, I slide the needle in—which is much easier this time. The fluids are helping. I reconnect the lines, tape down the site, and help him back to bed.
He mutters, “Thanks,” before clearing his throat. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I laugh at the way he says it—like he’s scared to ask. “You’re not a prisoner. You can go if you need to. Do you need any help?”
He shakes his head quickly. “I can manage.” I nod and pull the IV pole closer to him. “Hang on to this. It rolls, so don’t lean on it.” He nods and stands, slowly getting his footing as he maneuvers out of the door.
Exhaling a ragged breath, I roll the unmistakable tension out of my shoulders. That was intense. Thinking ahead, I draw up a sedative in case he has another episode tonight. You can never be too careful with PTSD. I’m no psychiatrist, but I know when someone needs to be sedated. Cade was able to come back this time. He may not the next.
When Cade returns, looking pale and a bit shaky again, I take his arm and help him into the bed. He mumbles a reluctant sound in appreciation. I know from that small gesture that he isn’t keen on appearing weak in front of me. Like I could ever think such a thing.
He settles under the blankets, and I tell him to open up, placing the thermometer, which after a minute, reveals his temp is climbing. It’s still not where I would like it to be. “Do you need anything?” I ask him while I clean up the trash.
“No, thank you. You’ve done enough.”
Here we go again. As if I didn’t hear him, I ask, “How about something to eat? You hungry?”
He just stares at me for a long moment, then ever so slightly bobs his head up and down.
“You think you can pace yourself this time?”
He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”
In the kitchen, I pace circles like Theo. The little shit has worn off on me. What am I doing? I give my ponytail a few tugs, annoyed and confused about what
the right answer is. It’s times like this that I wish I had someone to talk to so I could run this past them and ask for advice. But I have no one. Only Theo. And I don’t have to call him for advice. I know what his answer would be. It makes me cringe just thinking about it.
Fuck it. I’m a grown-ass woman. I can do whatever I feel like. And I feel like helping this man. If I die, I die. I’ve lived a good life.
Feeling satisfied in my decision, I load my shirt with a shit-ton of junk food and throw it down on the man’s bed. Cade looks at me wide-eyed.
I shrug. “What? I’m hungry too. Thought we could pig out and watch the game. Well, I’m going to pig out. You are going to eat slowly.”
He smiles and lifts up to rest against the headboard.
“Stay under the blankets,” I scold.
“I am.”
He really isn’t. All his organs that need to be warmed are above the blankets. But I’ll let him stay like that for a little while. He’s over the critical stage.
I turn on the TV and change the channel to the one broadcasting Theo’s game. He isn’t pitching tonight, but he’s there somewhere watching the opposing team like a hock. I open a bag of chips and pass it over to Cade. “Here you go. Nice and slow, remember?”
He nods but sticks a handful in his mouth anyway. Fucking men and their food. I roll my eyes and with a mouthful of food, he tries to apologize. I cut him off. “Don’t worry about it. I know it’s good. If you weren’t here, I probably would just tilt the bag in my mouth. Just chew and swallow. Wouldn’t even have to worry about my hands getting dirty.”
He laughs and starts to choke.
“Careful, Gorgeous,” I warn, grabbing him a bottled water.
He swallows hard as I pass him the water, which he chugs too.
We sit in silence, enjoying the monotone of the announcers. Between the two of us, we (mainly me) massacre several bags of chips and two Lunchables. Not the best dinner, but hey, it’s my day off. The pre-season game ends, declaring the Knights the victor. Prayers out to Theo’s team. He will be one grumpy boy tonight.
With a big yawn, I stand and gather the remains of our feeding frenzy. “You need anything else before I head to bed?”
