Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 2)

by Abigail Davies

  “Oh, really?” I quirk a brow, rolling forward as I tilt my head back to keep my gaze connected to his. “And what plan is this?”

  He jokingly looks toward Doctor Bale before whispering, “I’ll tell you later in case we ever need an escape plan.”

  Shaking my head, I hold in a bubble of laughter that’s desperate to escape. “Come on,” I roll toward the door, turning my head back toward them. “Let’s get out of these four walls.”

  His brow furrows as he looks around the room. “Don’t you want to wait on your mom and dad?”

  Skirting my gaze away from him, I shake my head. “They’re not coming with us. They wanted to give us some space.” I keep in the actual reason behind them not being here. It was only this morning my dad tried to persuade me yet again to go home with them, but when I told him no for the tenth time, he finally got it and said he couldn’t be here while I moved in with Nate. “They said they’d come over before their flight tomorrow,” I continue before finally flicking my gaze back at him.

  I can tell he wants to say something but chooses not to, nodding slightly and motioning for me to carry on out of the room.

  Pushing out into the hallway, I hear Nate’s footsteps behind me as he follows me out. Changing the subject, I say, “I can’t wait to smell the fresh air.”

  “Plenty of that at our place,” he says casually, only the words have my stomach doing somersaults. Our place, the words roll off his tongue with such ease, and when I look up at him, I see he meant it. A smile drifts slowly on my face, my nerves at leaving starting to dissipate as we pass the nurses’ station and roll toward the elevator.

  Nate presses the button and we both wait silently, his last words still batting around in my head. The idea of sharing a space fills me with an excited kind of apprehension. For the last five months we’ve seen each other practically every day. He’s been there, sitting beside me every step of the way and filling the silence I constantly greeted him with.

  The elevator doors opening bring me out of my head and I push forward, turning the chair around when I’m inside to face the door. I see Nate’s arm jerk, almost as if he wants to help, but he thinks better of it as he comes to stand beside me, pressing the button for the ground floor.

  “Did you have to have much done to your—our place?”

  He shrugs. “A few things. I’ll give you a tour when we get there.”

  “Okay,” I reply, watching as the numbers above the door slowly count down before the door whooshes open. It’s not until we’re outside I come to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk.

  Nate bends down in front of me, hand grazing mine softly. “What’s wrong?”

  “I erm…” My gaze scans the small parking lot in front of the hospital, searching for his car. “I’ve never…” Running my shaky hand over my hair, I flick my gaze up to his before looking away, stuttering, “What car did you bring?”

  With a gentle hand under my chin, he turns my head to face him. “We’re going to do this together, okay? Stop worrying, I have it covered.”

  I grit my teeth, wanting to tell him I don’t want him to have it covered, that I want to be able to do this myself. He tilts his head for me to follow him and I push my hands on the wheels, shoving back the frustrated tears springing to life.

  The happy feeling I had at getting out of this place slowly wanes, and when he comes to a stop in front of his SUV, he widens his stance, lifting his lips with a smile he only gives me.

  “What now?” I ask, willing my voice not to break.

  “Now I get to be romantic.” He opens up the passenger side door before walking back over to me. “Put your arms around my neck, that’s it.” My nostrils flare and I pull in a calming breath. However much I want to be able to do this on my own, I know right now it’s not possible. He scoops under my legs and lifts me like I don’t weigh anything, clutching me to his chest.

  He steps forward, gently placing me on the passenger seat of his SUV, letting me go and adjusting my legs for me in the position they won’t go in without using your hands.

  “Thanks,” I murmur, turning my head, coming only centimeters from his face.

  “It’s my pleasure,” he whispers before I feel the soft press of a kiss against my forehead. “I’ll just put your chair in the back.”

  I nod as he closes the door, watching him wheel the chair to the back and open the trunk. My eyes stay fixed to the rearview mirror as he studies the chair for several seconds, leaning down and out of my view.

  I can’t help but chuckle when he stands back up to his full height, hands on his hips as he stares at the chair, frustration etching across his features.

  “Lever on the right!” I shout back to him, and when he lifts his head, looking into the car, he raises a brow at me.

  “I knew that.”

  “Sure you did.” I pinch my lips together as he leans down again, pushing on the lever. The chair collapses into its folded-up position before he lifts it with ease and places it in the trunk.

  Biting down on my bottom lip as he gets into the driver's side, I keep my eyes forward, holding back the laughter wanting to escape.

  “Don’t you dare.” His words come out between a deep chuckle.

  “What?” I ask innocently, finally giving up my fight with the laughter and letting it ring loud in the confines of the car.

  He shakes his head at me, turning on the engine. “Guess I can add wheelchair wrestling onto my resume.”

  Pulling out of the space, I watch his profile, trying to be as serious as possible when I say, “I think it’d really round it out for you. ‘Nathan Cole: Lawyer and expert wheelchair wrestler.’ It has quite a ring to it.”

  The carefree spin on the conversation has my mood spiking and I watch as he laughs along with me. “Lawyer, expert wheelchair wrestler, and personal chef to Amelia Rivers.”

  Spinning my upper body toward him, I point at him. “That last one is the most important title.”

  He grins at me when he flicks his gaze briefly to mine, taking hold of my hand and rubbing his thumb in slow circles on my palm, eliciting a feeling I want to grab onto with both hands and never let go.

  For the rest of the drive to Nate’s we’re both silent, basking in the close proximity and the comfortable atmosphere settling around us. But as he turns onto the road leading to his house, butterflies take flight in my stomach as I start searching all around.

  Phoebe is still missing and I’m under no illusion she’ll let things go. She waited six years to do what she did so I’m sure she’ll wait another six to finish the job she started.

  He pulls to a stop outside his—our—front door, turning off the engine and getting out of the car, retrieving my wheelchair and putting it up before pushing it over to the passenger side.

  Pushing open the door, I look down at the chair while trying to stop my nerves from taking control of me, knowing with the height difference, I won’t be able to get into it safely.

  “Can you—”

  I don’t finish my sentence as he reaches inside, picking me up like he did at the hospital and placing me gently in the chair. This time I adjust my legs and when I spin the chair around, my eyes soak in the small ramp he’s installed in front of the house.

  Swallowing down the lump building in my throat, I croak out, “The first new addition?”

  “One of a few.” The smile he gives me is breathtaking as he holds out a key to me. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  I gingerly take it from him, putting all my strength into my arms as I wheel forward and push the key into the lock, turning it and hearing a click. Tilting my head slightly, I give him a wide smile before pushing the door open and crossing the threshold, putting thoughts of Phoebe to the back of my mind.

  I walk in behind her, scrubbing the back of my neck nervously with the palm of my hand as she gazes around the room. I hardly touched the living room, only removing the coffee table, so when she looks back at me with a confused look, I shut the door and step in fr
ont of her. “I moved the coffee table in here, it was already pretty open so I didn’t have to do much.”

  Amelia’s declaration she’d move in was all the confirmation I needed to go ahead and start making the changes to my place; regardless of her dad still being angry with me. He may not like the fact she’s chosen to make my home hers, but it’s her decision, not his.

  “Yeah, it is,” she murmurs, her gaze landing on mine as she goes farther into the room.

  I walk ahead and open the sliding double doors into the kitchen. “The kitchen will be my domain mainly but I had a countertop installed that can be lowered by this handle in case you find yourself wanting to bake or anything.”

  Her expression doesn’t give anything away as she nods and looks around before wheeling back out and heading toward the hallway. I stare after her for a beat; it seems unreal now that I see her wheeling herself around the house.

  It was only two weeks ago I was talking to Harmony—a few days before Thanksgiving—showing her the changes that were being made.

  “Her leaving the hospital will make it all the more real. Are you prepared for that?”

  I take a seat opposite her on the island and motion to the house. “I couldn’t be more prepared.”

  “I’m not talking about the house; I’m talking mentally. This is a big step.”

  “Harm, you and Tris are adopting a baby and moving into your own house.” She starts to interrupt but I cut her off. “Don’t try and tell me that it’s different, it’s a huge step still, but you know.”

  “I know?”

  “Yeah.” I smile. “You know with every fiber of your being it’s the right thing to do.”

  I fast walk over to the hallway when she disappears, bringing myself out of my head, and point to the first bathroom on the left. “In here we have a shower with a seat installed so you can shower on your own, all the bathrooms have had this installed. All the sinks in the house were already at a level I was assured would be fine for you, so they didn’t have to be changed.”

  “Can I wheel my chair close to the seat?” she asks, her brows drawn down as she bites her bottom lip. “Traci taught me how to shower on my own, but the bathroom at the hospital has a little opening for the chair to go under so it doesn’t get wet.” She looks up at me, her eyes expectant.

  I put up my finger and walk over to the shower, sitting in the seat. “You have these bars to help you move from chair to chair and then when you’re ready to shower.” I press a button on one of the bars and a glass screen slides slowly between me and my imaginary wheelchair. “How cool is that?”

  She snorts at the expression on my face. “You sure that’s for me and not you?”

  I shrug, I’d be lying if I hadn’t already tried it out. Standing up to shower is exhausting.

  After the screen is firmly back in place, we continue the tour.

  “The room opposite hasn’t been touched so we can still use it as a guest room if people want to stay over.” I open my office door as we pass it. “Nothing has changed in here either, there’s plenty of space and a sofa if you ever want to come in here.”

  Her gaze wanders around the room, landing on the bookcases. “What happens if I want a book off a higher shelf?” My eyes widen as I move my gaze from her to the bookcase and back again, raising my brows at the smirk on her face.

  “A book—you—” Her smirk grows bigger and I shake my head. “Should’ve known.”

  “Just keeping you on your toes,” she comments, tilting her head down the hallway. “Continue on with your tour.”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “No. I might just let you figure things out on your own from now on.” She rolls her eyes and I walk ahead. “Come on then, I want to show you where the real additions have been made.”

  I skip showing her the master and the extra guest bedroom—the one I’ve made up for her—because I’m unsure how to broach the subject, so I carry on farther down the hallway.

  I hear her gasp as we reach the end and we walk into the large room with the indoor pool inside. The floor-to-ceiling windows show the expanse of land I have, and with the frosty grass glistening, it looks beautiful.

  “You did this…” she trails off, clearing her throat. “You did all this for me?”

  My eyes fall on the equipment that’ll lift her in and out of the pool. “Yeah, Traci said it was needed.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she reprimands, spinning her chair around to face me, a stern expression on her face. “You built a pool? A pool, Nate. Really?”

  “Wait, what?” Her incredulous stare bores into me and when it finally clicks what’s she’s saying, I start laughing.

  “Don’t laugh at me,” she hisses, redness expanding up her neck and flowing across her cheeks.

  “You… you think I built a pool for you?” I’m not laughing at her: I’m laughing at the situation. “The pool was here before, I was talking about this.”

  I walk over to the equipment and tap my hand on it.

  “Well…” I turn around, watching as she places her hand over her forehead and tips her face down. “Now I feel stupid.”

  Guilt for making her feel bad washes over me and I step toward her. “There’s no reason to feel stupid. If I didn’t have a pool then I probably would’ve looked into getting one, so you were half right.”

  She huffs out an amused laugh before her gaze flits around the whole place, taking in all of the new equipment before landing on the door of what used to be my gym. “What’s in there?” she asks, pointing at it.

  I motion for her to follow me. “The most important thing about you coming home was that you had a suitable place to continue your therapy without us having to go back and forth to the hospital all the time. As you know, Traci will be continuing that so you don’t have to start over with somebody new, but we needed the space.” I open the door and walk inside, my arms spread out wide. “So… tah-dah.”

  She takes in the equipment I had Traci come and place around the room where she wanted them.

  “Wow.” Her gaze bats back and forth between the equipment and me before she pushes farther into the room. Her hand slides over the soft leather of the therapy bed before she slowly moves toward the standing bars that are a few feet apart in the middle of the room.

  I don’t know whether to step closer to her or leave her to take it all in as she places her hand at the base of her throat.

  Opening my mouth to say something, I’m cut off when she says, “This is all so…” Her gaze flicks back up to mine, her chocolate-brown eyes misting over. “Thank you.”

  I shoot her a small smile. “You’re welcome. There’s... actually a little more I wanted to show you before I let you get settled in.”

  “Lead the way.” She extends her arm out, signaling for me to walk ahead of her.

  The nerves flood back as we walk out into the pool room and toward the hallway. I know she agreed to move in with me, but I was under no illusion we would be staying in the same room, never mind the same bed. I mean, I want to of course but I’m no longer making decisions for her behind her back. I did upgrade the master bed to a lower frame like in the guest bedroom though—you know, just in case.

  “I, erm…” I stop walking and face her. “I had one of the guest rooms redecorated for you and a new bed put in that’s low enough for you to manage, but I…” I sigh and motion for her to follow me to the master bedroom. “I also got a low bed for the master in case you choose—”

  “Nate—”

  “—to stay there… with me.”

  “Nate,” she calls a second time, and when I look back at her, I see a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re rambling.”

  “I just wanted you to know that there’s no pressure at all, I—”

  “Nate.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’d love to be in here with you. If that’s what you want?”

  Every doubt is wiped away at the look on her face and I walk toward her, keeping our gazes connected. “It’s
been a long six months since you moved out of Tris’s—not being able to touch you.” I kneel in front of her and cup her face. “To talk to you without feeling like there was this barrier between us.” Her eyelids flutter shut as I brush my thumb across the soft skin of her cheek. “But that changes. If you’re in this, I need you to be in one hundred percent. No more hiding from me, no locking me out. If you struggle, we struggle together. Got it?”

  Her chest heaves as she takes in a breath, and when she opens up her eyes, I know she’s in with me before she says, “Got it.” Her hand reaches up, covering one of mine. “I’m all in, Nate. No pulling away anymore.” Her bottom lip wobbles as she leans toward me. “I promise.”

  I take one look in her eyes before I close the distance, pressing my lips against hers. She melds against me and I know I’d fight through the worst of times to experience this moment with her, as long as I have her with me.

  I finish packing up the SUV with Amelia’s wheelchair, lazily walking back through the house to where she’s bundled up under a fluffy blanket, binge-watching another one of her series. She hasn’t left that spot for the last two weeks, only moving when it’s time for her to do her therapy. She literally came home and became one with the sofa.

  I stand in front of her with a grin on my face to which she cranes her head around me with an annoyed look on hers. “Do you mind?”

  “Actually, no. No I don’t.” I grab the remote and turn off the TV. “We’re going out for a walk.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, my legs don’t work. Ergo, I can’t walk.” She points down at her legs.

  I roll my eyes and move toward her, giving her a light peck on the lips. “Come on, you’ve hardly done anything since coming home from the hospital. Let’s get some fresh air.”

  “I don’t want fresh air; I’m two episodes from the end of this series and you’re ruining my chi.” She tries to grab the remote from my hands but I hold my arm up in the air. “Nate,” she practically growls.