Crys And Gabe

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  Gabe came back in the room just as the orderly was leaving.

  "Lunch?" Gabe asked eying the contents of the tray. He saw me struggling and put the small bag on the chair before reaching for me. "Do you want the bed raised higher?"

  "Yes, please," I mumbled. "What is that shit?"

  "What? The stuff on the tray?" he asked glancing at the covered bowls and reading from a piece of paper. "They have you on a liquid diet, Kitten. Probably because you were throwing up yesterday."

  "But I'm hungry," I said. Okay, if you want to know the truth, I whined.

  Gabe smiled and went to the door. He peeked out into the hall and then closed the door.

  I must've looked confused because he held up a finger and moved to the bag he'd left on the chair.

  "Thought you might be," he said on a whisper. "I brought you a cheeseburger with fries."

  "My hero," I breathed before shooting my eyes to the bag. "Gimme!" With my hands still a mess, I had to have Gabe unwrap the burger and he even fed me the fries.

  "You're scarfing like you haven't had food in a week," he laughed as I almost bit his finger trying to grab all the fries he was holding in one large mouthful.

  "Hungry," I said in between bites. "Really hungry."

  "What? No broth or jello?" he teased.

  I looked back over at the hospital tray and wrinkled my nose. "In a word? No freaking way."

  Gabe chuckled as he held out another fistful of fries, with a warning, "Fries only. No fingers, alright?"

  The room got quiet with only my yummy noises to break the silence.

  "Kitten? I want to talk to you about something and I want you to think about it before you get mad."

  I stopped chewing.

  In my experience, when someone has to give you a warning before they speak, it meant that you better listen, be aware and at the ready.

  "You're going to need help when you get home. I want to come home with you and take care of you until you're better."

  My reaction, my very first thought was, "Yay!" But, then I felt myself doing exactly what he asked me not to do and started to get mad. I hated to be taken care of; of having someone hover over me or telling me what to do.

  When I thought about it, though, he was right. I was gonna need some help and if I was really honest, I'd rather have Gabe there with me than anyone else.

  "Okay," I mumbled before taking another huge bite of the cheeseburger.

  "Okay?" he asked, his eyebrows practically at his hairline with surprise. "Really?"

  "Shut it, okay, Mykalson," I grumbled. Geesh, what a dork.

  I glanced over at him and he was smiling as he reached into the bag for the last of the fries. I gave the thought of having him in my house another go-round.

  "One thing, though," I said, raising my head to capture his eyes. "You can't be your normal dick-head self, Gabe."

  He just stared at me.

  "I mean it."

  "But, Crys, I'm a boy," he said with a smile. "You used to tell me that all boys were dicks."

  "They are. But you were the worst," I said trying, and failing, to keep my smile hidden.

  "Yeah, well," he mumbled.

  There was a knock at the door and he swiftly reached for the wrapper of the now decimated cheeseburger and shoved it in the bag as I wiped my face and called, "Come in."

  It was Cait carrying a cute tote bag.

  "Got your stuff, Crys," she said. "Oh, hey, Gabe."

  "Hi, Cait," I said. "This is my friend, Gabe."

  Gabe stood up and reached out his hand to Cait. "We've already met, Kitten. She just called me by name. Hi, Cait, nice to see you again."

  "You, too," she said and I saw her eyes do a quick head to toe eye roam over him. Yeah, he was worthy of the full body scan. And, since she slept next to the stunning Jake Stanton, I couldn't complain about her taking the scenic route around Gabe.

  "Think I'll go see if you can have a soda. Get you anything while I'm in the cafeteria?"

  "Nothing for me, thanks," Cait said.

  "If I can't have a soda, then maybe an apple juice?" I instructed.

  Gabe turned at the door and smiled.

  Sigh.

  "Are you okay, honey?" she asked. Cait was the nicest person I knew and I flipping love her to bits.

  "Yes. No," I said as firmly as this weak, piece of crap, voice of mine would allow. "Shit, I don't know, Cait."

  We stared at each other. Before we both broke out laughing.

  "So, this thing with Gabe…" she started.

  What fucking thing with Gabe?

  There was no 'thing' with Gabe.

  I loved him. Loved him and needed him and he bailed a long time ago. Actually, he caused a bit of a ruckus and I tossed his ass out.

  He'd only come back a couple of times, once for Christmas and again for my dad's funeral. I heard he'd been back a couple of other times, too. But in the interest of self-protection, I'd made myself pretty freaking scarce when he was in town.

  And, he'd always gone away again.

  Okay, the time after my dad's funeral, I sent him away. And I wasn't nice about it either.

  Gabe was my history. Just thread in the fabric that was my life.

  I'd let go of that particular scrap of material.

  "Nothing there, Cait," I mumbled. "Move on."

  And, God love her, she did. Which let me know that we were still friends.

  Gabe came back with a ginormous drink and a little piddley-ass bottle of apple juice while Cait took her leave with a certain gleam in her eye as she hugged me.

  I knew what she was thinking but she was dead wrong.

  Gabe and I were not a couple.

  "I'm going to take off, Kitten," Gabe said after opening the bottle of juice for me. "Got some inking appointments I have to do but I'll be back this evening, alright?"

  "Sure, Gabe," I grumbled. "Go have fun."

  He smiled and kissed my forehead. I knew I was being cranky, but he'd seen me act worse so I couldn't give a shit.

  After he left, I took the time to discover exactly how many steps I could take before the leads on the heart monitor and the IV line stretched too far. I got four. Four giant steps before the 'Mother may I?' kicked in and I had to turn back. Eight regular, normal kind of steps. About sixteen steps too little, if you ask me.

  Did I ever mention how much I hate hospitals?

  Consider it noted.

  No one I knew ever went in had ever come out or, if they did, they never came out the same person that went in.

  I just wanted to come out the other side as the same ol' me.

  Chapter Five

  "Do you think the flowers are okay back there?" Crys asked settling herself into the passenger seat of the 1956 Ford F-100 restored pickup which was Gabe's current ride. She turned around and glanced at the bed of the truck through the back window at the six or seven arrangements that Gabe had loaded up when she was signing out of the hospital.

  "Should be," Gabe said. He glanced across the bench seat. "Seatbelt, Crys."

  "Okay, Grandpa," she said with a smirk, reaching for one of the few modern additions on the restored truck.

  Gabe shot her a glance at her tone.

  It was like she was trying to piss him off or get some sort of a reaction from him.

  Which wasn't anything new between them.

  But on the heels of her getting hurt and being in the hospital, being in the fucking ICU, he wasn't going to participate. He was figuring it was her way of holding him at arm's length, with whatever fucked up reasons she had rumbling around in her head.

  "Do we need to make a stop before we get you home?" Gabe asked, making his way out to Route 4.

  "Yeah," she mumbled to the passenger side window. "But you're gonna have to pay, Gabe. I don't have my purse."

  He knew she didn't like that.

  Actually she was probably pretty bent out of shape about all of it.

  She didn't have her Jeep, although Jake and Cait had made sure i
t would be waiting for her at her house.

  She didn't have her purse, but Dex had said he'd bring it by later this evening. Leila had said that having personal belongings in a hospital was asking for trouble and had taken it with her for safe keeping.

  Gabe knew that this was a problem for her, the having to depend on other people part.

  It's almost as much of a problem as her having to stay in bed the whole three days she was in the hospital.

  "Why do you think they released me so late?" She asked, her head still turned away from him.

  "I'm guessing they were waiting on test results," Gabe said, although he had wondered the same thing. He had been at the hospital since the morning and it was just now going on six. At long last she was released and he could get her out of there.

  They stopped by the brand spanking new grocery store which had recently opened. In this part of Grantham almost every business was new. When Gabe and Crys were younger, they lived out in the country. But now, with all the land development, the town was growing and spreading. As soon as there were two new housing tracts, the new businesses opened.

  Crystal inherited the three bedroom ranch house with three acres, from her dad.

  Benny told him not a month went by when she didn't get an offer to sell. And that she had considered it the first couple of times, but she loved her house in the woods too much to let it go.

  Gabe had grown up in a house about two miles north of the Armstrong's, and since they had basically grown up together, he knew Crys's house as well as his own.

  "Okay, Kitten, let's get you inside," Gabe said, shutting off the engine and releasing his seat belt. He ran around and got the door for Crys who gave him a sharp look at his actions.

  Her face was gray and she had purple half-moons under her eyes. The doctor wanted her to take it easy for the next couple of days and Gabe was determined she would follow the doctor's orders to the letter.

  Gabe snagged her key ring, hanging from one of her belt loops and opened the back door. "Couch or bed, Crys?"

  "Got shit to do, Gabe," she mumbled. He saw that she was using the doorjamb to hold herself steady as she tried navigating the kitchen.

  Gabe put his hands on her waist and pushed her a bit. They made it into the dining room and Crys stopped, hanging onto the back of one of the dining room chairs.

  "I'm okay," she said quietly.

  Gabe knew she wasn't. She was tired and he could feel her shaking beneath his hands. He stepped forward until his front was to her back, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  "No, Crys, you aren't. Not yet anyway," he said softly next to her ear. "Couch or bed?"

  She was quiet for a moment.

  "Bed, I guess," she said on a sigh.

  Gabe was tempted to just pick her up and take her there but he wasn't sure how she would react. He just kept his arms around her and moved when she moved as they made their way down the hall to the master bedroom.

  "Are you gonna be okay with me bringing the stuff in or do you need me to help get you into bed?"

  Crys pulled his arms from around her waist and moved slowly to the bed. She sat down gingerly on the edge of the mattress and glared at him, standing by the door.

  "You gonna play fucking nursemaid, Gabe?" She asked, her voice sharp.

  "If I gotta, Crys, I will," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. "But I'm trying to give you choices, Kitten. You can't get pissed at choices."

  "Don't tell me how to feel, asshole," she mumbled tiredly.

  Gabe was pretty sure she had used up the little bit of energy she had left with the 'nursemaid' question and attitude.

  "I'll bring in your stuff. You get ready for bed."

  She looked at him and slowly raised her hand up before curling down all but her middle finger.

  Gabe nodded and turned away just in case she saw his smile break through.

  Twenty -two years old and she was still flipping him off, bandages and all.

  He brought everything in and heard the noise from her shower as he placed the flowers and plants from her posse in the bedroom. Glancing at his cellphone to check the time, he decided he'd butt in if the shower lasted any more than ten minutes.

  Going back in the kitchen, Gabe got the ingredients to make one of the only two dinners he knew how to cook. Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

  He had just turned the sandwiches over when he heard the water turn off.

  Leaving the kitchen, he snagged a couple of TV trays from the holder in the living room and made his way back to her room. He saw her with her knee on the bed, the big t-shirt pulling across her shapely ass, and paused at the door. Gabe felt his cock stir and tried to think of other things as he set up the two trays.

  Crys settled herself against the pillows and pulled up the covers.

  "So which is it? Chili cheese dogs or grilled cheese and soup?" she asked.

  Gabe smiled.

  She knew him pretty well.

  Guess that happened when you grew up together.

  "Grilled cheese," he threw over his shoulder as he went back to the kitchen. As soon as he cleared the doorway, he adjusted himself in his jeans. The sight of her beautiful butt, only covered by the thin t-shirt was seared on his corneas.

  And Gabe's cock liked the image.

  Crys started yawning about halfway through and pushed the rest of the food away.

  He hadn't even thought about her bandages getting wet in the shower until he took the trays away and happened to see the gauze on her hands.

  Shit.

  The doctor had said to change the dressing at least twice a day and to keep it dry. He pulled out the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink and gathered up the other stuff they had bought at the grocery store.

  She was almost asleep as he made his way back into the bedroom and began to remove the soggy bandages.

  "No, Gabe," she whined, although he knew she'd deny it if he reminded her of it tomorrow.

  "Just a few more minutes, Kitten, and you can sleep," he murmured, bending to his task. Actually she didn't bother staying awake and once she was out, she was out.

  It used to be a running joke that Crys slept like the dead.

  Gabe cleaned up and had just gotten their dishes in the dishwasher when Dex came by.

  "She's sleeping," Gabe said when he let Dex in.

  "Good. Here's her purse. You think she's okay?"

  "Doc said she had to lay low for a couple of days. Just going to the store and coming here wiped her out. I'll stay with her, though, just to make sure she does what she's supposed to," Gabe said.

  "Good luck with that, Gabe," Dex said softly, trying not to laugh. "You have any appointments we need to switch around?"

  "Naw, I got a couple of designs I need to do but I'll see if Dad will loan me the portable light box and do 'em here."

  "She gonna let you stay?" Dex finally asked. He had got caught up in Crys's shit storms and knew it wasn't fun. And not having a say would almost guarantee that storm. Crys was fiercely, almost scarily, independent and anyone that knew her for any length of time got that.

  And if they didn't?

  She was more than willing and able to get it through their thick skulls.

  "I'm not giving her a choice, Dex, to tell you the truth," Gabe said, again crossing his arms on his chest.

  Dex dropped his eyes and shook his head. "You got balls, Gabe."

  Gabe just smiled.

  "Other than the light box, you guys need anything?" Dex asked moving toward the door.

  "I think we got it from here, but thanks," Gabe said.

  Dex let himself out and Gabe went through the house checking that all the doors and windows were locked.

  Used to be, living way out here in the woods, you didn't have any problems, but with the housing developments came crime.

  He got a pillow and blanket from the hall closet before turning on TV. He glanced down at the black leather couch and realized he was going to have to sleep scrunche
d up. While the couch was long, he was longer. And when he sat down on it, it was hard as a rock. No wonder Crys did most of her television viewing from the floor.

  But the couch had been Max's and Crys had a hard time letting go of anything that her dad had when he died. Looking around the room, Gabe saw that it had the same décor as when Max passed, back when Crys was still in her senior year of high school.

  What a God awful time that was.

  Max had gone to Phoenix on his Harley to attend the funeral of one of his brothers from the motorcycle club he'd belonged to back in the day. But a semi-truck had cut Max off and he had died instantly while trying to lay his bike down.

  Without even thinking twice, Gabe had packed a bag and drove the twenty-something hours to get back to Grantham, only stopping for gas and junk food breaks.

  To get back to Crys.

  Benny had gone to Phoenix to get Max's body brought back to the mountains and woods that Max had loved so much.

  Crys had been a mess and had, as usual, been trying so hard to fight it; to cover her grief up and not let anyone into her head.

  Which is exactly what Gabe knew she was going to do.

  It was the way she protected herself and had done so since they were little kids.

  Gabe had helped her plan the funeral and even went with her to meet with Mr. Jamison at the bank who was the executor of Max Armstrong's estate.

  Crys got into it with the bank president and called him a 'blood-sucking asshole' when he tried to talk to her about giving him power of attorney, since she was not quite eighteen. He even had a notary public ready to witness her signature on the stack of papers sitting on his desk.

  "But, you are under age, Miss Armstrong, and I'm sure that you father would want you to be taken care of and make wise decisions regarding his assets."

  "I know what my father wanted, Jamison. And it wouldn't be for you to handle his 'assets' as you call them. Plus, I'll be eighteen in November. So let's get this show on the road. I want a copy of his will and a list of the assets that are a part of the estate my father left me. And, believe me, I'll be reading every freaking word before I have to sign anything. Understand?"

  Gabe was impressed. He knew she was hanging on by a thread but she wouldn't let the fat, old bastard know about her pain or her grief.