No. Tiffy might be a puppy, but she wasn't exactly a pocket pet.
She gave up on the idea for the time being, but kept it in the back of her mind.
How long should she worry about the bikers coming back for revenge? Many weeks had passed, but even if gangsters A, B, and C were in prison they surely carried a grudge, and they had friends on the outside. They might send thugs D, E, and F after both her and the neighbors.
All these criminals had families. Some might even be released and able to come themselves.
Stop thinking about it. Cowering in fear means they win. You have the police outside your house, Mona on the couch, and a loaded gun.
If someone came, now or later, she'd have to deal with it.
Bikers on TV like to torch buildings.
She pushed the thought away. Her fears might never come true, and they didn't matter. Paul mattered, and he needed her.
One day when she arrived, the bed was empty and she ran for the nurse's station in half panic. A short woman in pretty blue scrubs smiled.
"He's in physical therapy, in a wheelchair for now, but he'll be walking in no time. From what I hear, he doesn't like the exercises one bit."
Paradoxically, Paul doing better meant she saw him less. She tried to coordinate her schedule with the nurses, but it didn't work out. Every time she arrived he was away somewhere, or asleep.
*****
Paul returned to his room from physical therapy, leaning on a cane.
He couldn't remember much of what happened, but the end result sure sucked.
Walking through the corridor exhausted him and he had to stop several times to catch his breath. He opened the back door to the room and shuffled in, and saw Sharon disappear out on the other side.
Dammit.
Pretending she wasn't there seemed an okay idea as long as he was doped up. Now he was clearheaded enough to understand she knew the truth and still kept coming back.
"Sharon!"
It was too late. She didn't hear.
He hurried through the room as quickly as he could, but he was much too slow. When he opened the door on the other side and looked into the corridor, it was empty.
"Fuck."
He knew she'd been there when he slept. She left little things for him, like a photo of the dog, and sometimes he could swear he could smell her shampoo. When he was awake, he always seemed to be somewhere else when she stopped by. They kept his few waking hours on a tight schedule.
His legs wanted to buckle and he needed to lie down. All this standing up was overrated.
There was a note on his nightstand and his hands shook when he took it and unfolded it. He might have missed his chance and she was saying goodbye. He was a burden.
The mere thought created a lump in his throat.
"Dear Jimmy, or Paul, or whoever you want to be. =)"
His eyes paused at the smiley. It was so Sharon. Who else would write smileys with pen and paper? He touched it with a finger, and a sensation of loss welled up in his chest.
"I have bad luck getting to talk to you, I guess I have a crazy stalker act going on watching you sleep, haha."
Maybe I didn't just imagine her staying over here the other night. I thought I woke up and she was there, but it might not have been real.
"The doctors say you're doing better and I hope it's true. I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. Tiffy and I miss you much. She's a great girl, good company. You have no idea how grateful I am you saved her and brought her home."
That's good. One good thing came out of this fucking mess.
"Anyway, since I can't seem to catch you in person and awake I just want you to know I'm thinking of you. I miss you, and I love you."
He read the last part several times, and could almost hear Sharon's voice say the words. For weeks his will to live had been washed away by physical pain and morphine. The note helped rub the lethargy away. After everything that happened, she still loved him.
"I need to get out of here."
His voice sounded strange and flat in the empty room.
Up until now he'd barely even looked at the room. A locker on the other side of the bed held fresh clothes, keys, his wallet, and his phone. Had Sharon brought him all this?
Damned phone, no battery, no charger. Maybe the room has a phone?
It did not. Alternate ways of finding one seemed to require a superhuman effort.
He still moved slowly, but he was quite able to dress himself and these days, every little victory counted.
Getting out of the hospital might not be so easy. They would try to stop him.
Peeking out into the corridor, it was completely empty. Good start.
Chapter Nineteen
Paul looked out at Sharon's little house through the cab window. It looked like an oasis in an otherwise insane world.
He lived there for so long, and now he was a stranger. Would things have been different if he'd been able to tell her his name?
"Do you want me to wait?"
The cab driver looked concerned.
I probably don't look so good. I don't feel so good.
"I'll be okay, thanks."
The panorama window on Sharon's living room stared at him. It reminded him of the first time he was there and Mona peeked out the window with her pink shotgun. It seemed a lifetime ago.
It was another life in a way. He had been another man with another name.
The few steps to the front door were much too long and his legs too weak. This might not have been his best idea ever.
What if she's not home? Well, if she doesn't open, I guess I'll wait.
He still had her key on his keychain, but using it was out of the question. She gave it to Jimmy, not to him.
He took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles against the paint. The barking that followed brought a smile to his lips.
Good girl, protecting mommy.
For a long moment he didn't think she'd open, and standing outside a closed door, leaning on a cane and holding a bouquet of flowers seemed pretty stupid. Then, the door swung open.
"Oh my God, what are you doing here?"
He held up the roses.
"My name is Paul. Paul Colton."
She didn't answer; she looked shocked.
"Can I come in?"
Her eyes were so stunned he expected her to say no, but she stepped to the side and opened the door wider. Tiffy sat further in, banging her tail against the floor. What a good girl not rushing to the door.
"She has grown."
And I think I'm about to faint, but it would be better to do that inside.
The threshold seemed the height of Everest, but Sharon grabbed his arm and helped him in.
She said, "Oh sweetheart, you're supposed to be in the hospital. What are you doing here?"
"I..."
He didn't have a good answer, so he pushed the flowers into her hands, and for a moment, he expected her to hit him with them. That would be okay as long as he didn't have to hold them any longer.
She shook her head and went to the kitchen. The sofa looked like a little piece of heaven, but he forced his feet to follow, only pausing to rub Tiffy's head.
"I snuck out. I got your note."
"You ran away from the hospital because you got my note?"
Her tone of voice made the question sound like, "Are you drunk?"
As many weird pills, shots, and patches as they keep giving me, who knows. Maybe none of this is happening. I might still be in bed and all this is in my head.
"I guess I have issues."
"You sure do."
She didn't turn around to meet his eyes, but sounded amused.
He closed the distance between them and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth. I was afraid."
She put the flowers down and sighed.
Please say something. I wanted to protect you, but I did a pretty shitty job.
He tried again. "I'm really, r
eally sorry. And I love you. I saw your note and I had to tell you."
She turned around to face him, and he filled with relief when she rested her head against his chest. It made him feel about to topple over, but having her close was still good.
She said, "You know, you could have called me."
In retrospect, that was a better idea than sneaking out of the hospital, finding a taxi, and going all the way here. He could say this was something he needed to do in person, but it wouldn't be true, and even if it were, she would have come to see him if he asked.
"I was out of battery, and at the time, going here seemed easier than finding a phone."
When stated aloud, he heard flaws in his logic. His head might not be as clear as he thought it was.
"I missed you so much, you have no idea. Just please don't keep a secret like this again." She sounded on the verge of tears.
He still needed to hold on to the crutch, but wrapped his free arm around her and Sharon held him carefully.
"I don't think I'll be doing something like this again."
"Good. I know you just got here, but I should probably take you back to the hospital."
It was a sensible idea, he sure didn't feel good, but he wanted to stay.
"No. I know I have to go back, but wait a little."
"Okay. Come here."
She led him towards the sofa and he sank down with a sigh of relief. Sitting down was good. He might never be able to get up again, but that was a problem for the future.
Sitting became even better when she sat next to him and took his hand.
On the coffee table, her phone chimed and the display lit up. It said, "Bishop, mobile."
Sharon gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. "I think they've discovered your great escape."
She had his colleague's number programmed in her phone. Seeing another man's name on the display gave a sting of jealousy, and called out a memory from the dusty innards of his mind; Sharon arriving to the club.
How must she have felt when she saw me with that girl?
She answered, unaware of his inner turmoil. "I know, he's here, just walked through the door. Yes, thank you, that would be awesome, but would you give us a few first?"
The one-sided conversation wasn't difficult to follow.
"He's coming for me, isn't he?"
"Yes, but not right away."
Paul's arm seemed to weigh the equivalent of a school bus, but he still lifted it and beckoned for her to come closer.
She shook her head. "I'm afraid to hurt you."
"If I'm sore, they feed me too many painkillers to notice. Half the time, I don't even know what's real."
Seeing the expression on her face, it wasn't as funny as he thought when he said it. She still leaned her head against him, carefully, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
If he was to say anything, he needed to be honest.
"I have longed to sit here with you."
He could feel her relax; her head grew heavier and she ran a hand over his chest.
"I thought I lost you."
"I thought I lost you. I was afraid to tell you the truth."
"I know. You thought I was someone else and told me all about it."
Oh lord...
"What else did I say?"
"Nothing you need to worry about. You didn't give away any state secrets or anything."
Time to change the subject. "I wish I was up to ripping all your clothes off."
This time, she laughed. "I do too, silly man, but there'll be a time for that. Hey Paul..."
It was strange to hear her say his real name. "M-hm."
"Welcome home."
*****
Paul's heart wanted to stay right there with her, but his body complained about missing medications. They couldn't be long overdue, but the pain sneaking in told him how badly hurt he really was. Hearing the car pull up outside filled him with a mix of loss and relief.
Sharon sat up and said, "I guess it's time. Hurry up and get better so you can come home, okay?"
Getting up seemed impossible and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. What would returning to real life be like? She made it sound as if he could still live there with her. It was too early to worry about what he'd do at work, but one thing was clear: no more one-percenter gangs.
"Paul? Are you okay?"
She sounded worried. Opening his eyes required effort, but he did it, for her.
"I'm so tired."
That wasn't what he intended to say.
"You need to get back to the hospital. Can you get up?"
His body said no, but his mouth said, "Yes." The mouth was correct, but he needed a little help. She wrapped his arm around her shoulders and supported him.
"I'm sorry." That wasn't what he intended to say either, and Sharon frowned.
"For what? I didn't even know you were able to walk yet, and you made it all the way here. That's like superhero effort, and you did it for me."
He was also sorry for lying to her, and for messing everything up, but verbalizing the thoughts required too much effort, and he leaned on her through the door, towards the car.
"Bye, Tiffy."
The dog wagged her tail and gave a whine.
Sharon said, "I'll be right back baby-girl, and daddy will be home again soon."
Her words made him laugh, despite the throbbing in his legs. "I'm the daddy of a dog."
"Yes you are, and the sooner you're back on your feet, the sooner you can play with her. I'm teaching her to play Frisbee."
Bishop waited, elbows leaning on the roof. He fixed his eyes on Paul and shook his head.
"You never learn."
He tried to smile, but it came out a grimace. "I know."
Sharon kissed his cheek. "No more adventures until the doctors approve, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'll come see you tonight."
"I'll try to stay awake."
Easier said than done, but he would give it his best.
He nodded off in the car, and when Bishop offered him a wheelchair he surprised himself with accepting.
He had never expected to welcome an IV, but lying down on the hospital bed was almost as sweet as going home had been. Almost.
The doctors lectured him. When they were done the nurses lectured him, and after that Selena arrived to lecture him. "Do you have any idea how that stupid little stunt of yours worried everyone? I kept a guard here for weeks, but that was to keep people from getting in, not to keep you from getting out."
"Yes, ma'am." She glared and he added, "Sharon says I shouldn't trust my decision making abilities just yet."
"And she is correct." The stern expression on her face softened. "Well, I'm glad you're back in one piece."
Chapter Twenty
Just like every day, Sharon stayed in the car for a moment before entering the hospital. She needed the time to breathe and collect herself. The place wasn't bad once she reached his room, but she still had a hard time going through the hospital labyrinth to reach it.
Him not only getting out of the room unnoticed, but making it all the way out of the building seemed impossible. He sure gave stubborn a face, and that was a good thing. A less stubborn man would have died.
She met her own eyes in the rear view mirror.
"Paul is in there and you should be, too. Let's go."
She didn't expect him to be awake, not really, but he opened his eyes when she entered and made an effort to sit up.
He grimaced, "I hate that you see me like this."
Awake and coherent. This is an awesome day.
She pulled up a chair and took a seat, reaching for his hand. "That won't stop me from coming. And it's not like you're here because of an imagined disease. Bad guys hurt you."
"I guess." He lifted her hand and pressed it against his cheek. He felt as thirsty for her touch as an alcoholic might be for a drink.
"I brought your phone charger. Don't know why I didn't think of
that earlier."
"Yes, because you've had nothing else on your mind."
"I know, right." She winked, went to get the phone in his locker, and plugged it in. "So you can reach me without having to travel through the city."
It seemed like only a couple of minutes passed before the nurse entered. The woman looked and sounded chipper. "Time for your medication. You know this will make you drowsy."
Paul rolled his eyes. "In that case you're giving me too much, because that will knock me out."
She shrugged. "Well then, I guess you need to rest. I heard someone went on an adventure today."
"Give me an hour. Please. Let me talk to my girlfriend with a clear head for an hour."
The chipper façade faded. "Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you're not in pain? We don't want you to be in pain."
He tried, and failed.
The nurse sighed, "Tell you what, I'll make my round and take everyone else first. But when I'm coming back, that's that. And in the meantime, if it gets bad, it's your own fault."
"Yes, ma'am."
It took over an hour for the nurse to return, and by that time, Paul was pale with beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He pretended to be fine, but anyone could see through it. The nurse frowned, "Should have taken our medication, shouldn't we?"
He still glared when she injected a full syringe into the IV, and Sharon thought it would be a good time to distract him.
"Mona wants to come see you."
His eyes already looked different, glazed, but he made an effort to stay with her. "Is she taking care of you?"
"She is. She's been staying with me since you disappeared."
"Good. That's good."
A couple of minutes later his eyelids fell shut and he forced them up again.
Sharon bent forward to kiss his cheek. "Take a nap. I'll be here."
She fell asleep in the chair, just like so many nights before, resting her arms on the bed and her head on her arms, still holding his hand.
This night, something was different. She woke from him squeezing her fingers.
"You can't sleep like that." He spoke each word with an effort and sounded drowsy, but the words were coherent. Good sign. If they sedated him less and he was awake, he must be getting better, right?
"Why not?"
"Because it's uncomfortable."
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