Furious

by R. L. Mathewson

  “I’m thinking about it,” he said, watching as her eyes narrowed on him.

  “You’re thinking about it?” Sloane asked with a mock glare as he finished off the water.

  “Mmmhmmm, I’m thinking about it,” Chase said, handing her the empty bottle so that he could finish his shower.

  I see,” Sloane murmured thoughtfully as she got up and placed the empty bottle in the small trash can by the bathroom sink.

  “It depends,” he said, turning the shower off.

  “On what exactly?” Sloane asked as she grabbed a towel off the shelf and handed it to him.

  “On whether or not you can stop beating yourself up over what happened. It was a mistake and I’m not expecting it to happen again, but I can’t deal with you acting like it’s the end of the world,” Chase said, drying off.

  “Fair enough,” Sloane murmured in agreement as she placed a towel on the seat of his wheelchair for him.

  Nodding, he dropped the towel across his lap, reached over and grabbed hold of his wheelchair and transferred himself over. “Then I guess we have a deal.”

  *-*-*-*

  He was going to kill her, Sloane thought as she sat there, staring down at the iPad in her hands as she debated hitting “Send.”

  “Are you planning on giving me back my wheelchair anytime soon, Pookie?” Chase asked as Sloane relaxed in the wheelchair that was surprisingly comfortable.

  “Probably not,” she mumbled absently even as she glanced up to find Chase chuckling as he grabbed a twenty-five-pound weight and held it against his chest as he continued doing crunches.

  For a moment, Sloane watched Chase as she sat there telling herself that she was crossing another line, but

  She honestly didn’t care anymore.

  He needed help and she was going to make sure that he got it. If she thought that any of the therapists that Melissa was shoving his way could help him, she wouldn’t worry, but since most of them ended up running out of the house crying or calling Chase an asshole, she needed to help him. With that in mind, Sloane returned her attention to the email that she was writing.

  She didn’t know this therapist, but from everything that she’d read about him, he was probably Chase’s best hope. The problem was that he wasn’t accepting new patients yet. He was opening a private practice through Shadow House, a nonprofit therapeutic center aimed at helping people get through trauma, which would also be a perfect fit for Chase, but it wouldn’t be opening for another month.

  She considered looking into seeing if anyone else could see him sooner, but she would rather have someone who focused on treating trauma patients work with Chase rather than someone who only offered it as part of an extensive list of services. Chase needed someone who was focused on trauma. Sloane wasn’t sure how she was going to convince this man to help, but she was going to try.

  She double-checked the link to Chase’s story online, read through her email, and…hesitated as she glanced back down at Chase to find him pushing himself to get better, making her realize that she really didn’t have a choice. Slowly exhaling, she hit “Send.”

  “Everything okay, Pookie?” Chase asked as she moved to close her email app only to find herself frowning when she saw an email from her boss with the name Joshua Wilkins in the subject line.

  Wondering why her boss was writing to her about Joshua since she hadn’t worked with him in four years, Sloane opened the email and immediately wished that she hadn’t when she finished reading the first line. Slowly exhaling, she forced herself to read the rest of the email. When she was done, she released a shaky breath and climbed out of the wheelchair.

  “Pookie?” Chase said, frowning as he watched her.

  “I’m fine,” Sloane mumbled absently as her trembling hands dropped the iPad in Chase’s wheelchair and

  “I’m fine,” she repeated, because she was fine, more than fine.

  This was just part of the job, Sloane reminded herself as she found herself heading to the kitchen door. She needed to make lunch because that was also part of her job and that’s why she was here.

  To do her job.

  “Pookie?” Chase called after her. “Sloane?”

  “I-I’m going to make lunch,” she mumbled hollowly as she made her way to the kitchen sink and…and…

  This was just a job.

  Sloane knew that the cancer could come back. She’d been prepared for that to happen, had told herself that it might happen, but she just didn’t think that it would happen this soon. She’d told herself that the happy little boy that used to make silly faces while he had chemo was going to be fine.

  Apparently, she’d been wrong.

  The cancer came back and Joshua hadn’t been strong enough to beat it this time. It happened, Sloane reminded herself as she grabbed hold of the edge of the kitchen sink. Sometimes her patients died. It happened. It was sad, but it was part of the job.

  This was just a job.

  This was just a

  “Shhh, it’s okay,” Chase said as he pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay.”

  Shaking her head, she choked out a sob. “I-I have to make lunch,” Sloane said, struggling to climb back off his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “No, you don’t,” he said softly as he held her tightly against him, kissing her forehead as she sat there thinking about Joshua, thinking about the way that he used to smile whenever they drove in the ambulance and the EMTs would put on the sirens just to make his day, the late-night movie marathons they used to have when the pain was too much, the way that he used to laugh when they raced wheelchairs down the hallway when they had to wait for an appointment, and

  “I can’t keep doing this,” Sloane said, burying her face against Chase’s chest as she wrapped her arms around him while she lost it.

  “I know,” Chase said, holding her tightly as she closed her eyes, wondering when it was going to stop hurting this much to lose a patient.

  Chapter 16

  Maryhale, Florida

  “Why did you do that?” Kylie asked, watching helplessly through their office window as the unfortunate individual that the agency sent over for an interview stumbled toward his car while he struggled to hold it together.

  “Do what?” Hunter asked, sounding bored as he tossed the resume that was stained with tears on the coffee table.

  “That,” Kylie said, gesturing toward the window just as the man that never should have tried to make eye contact with her husband lost the battle and began sobbing as he wrapped his arms around himself and fell back against his car.

  Shrugging it off, Hunter said, “He wasn’t right for the job.”

  “Getting an assistant was your idea,” Kylie reminded him with a sigh as she reluctantly turned her attention back to the file that she’d been working on even as she had to admit that she could use some help.

  With Shadow House set to open in a month and all the changes that they were trying to make with Shadow Security, Kylie was exhausted. She’d been putting in extra hours every night and working weekends trying to make sure that they didn’t fall behind. She’d considered asking Hunter to hire someone to take over for her at Shadow House, but…

  She couldn’t do it.

  For the past year, they’d been working to make this happen and now that they were this close, she wasn’t about to quit. Just knowing that Shadow House could help one person who’d gone through what she’d gone through was enough to keep her going.

  Well, that and Grey.

  Shadow House was his baby and he was doing everything to make sure that it was ready on time. It had been Hunter’s idea, but Grey was the one that was making it come to life. He had the experience and knew exactly what they needed to do to help people who’d gone through traumatic experiences and was making sure that Shadow House could handle it.

  “Because you’re doing too much,” Hunter said as she tossed the file aside and grabbed her iPad.

  “Then why d
o you keep scaring them off?” Kylie couldn’t help but wonder as she looked for the email that she was hoping would help her figure out why the Boston office was two weeks behind on their reports.

  “They keep annoying me,” Hunter said, not really sounding all that concerned.

  “Then maybe I should pick out my own assistant?” Kylie suggested only to sigh when he mumbled, “No.”

  “Why not?” she asked because it really would make things a lot easier if she didn’t have to worry about her husband terrifying the applicants before she had a chance to talk to them.

  “Because you’re too nice.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “Yes,” Hunter said as Kylie looked up from her iPad and

  “What are you doing?” she couldn’t help but wonder, not because he was pulling off his clothes, because she really didn’t have a problem with that. No, what she had a problem with was that predatory look that he had on his face, the same one that he wore whenever he wanted to

  “It’s jump day,” Hunter announced, making everything inside her go still at those three horrifying words, which unfortunately had the undesired effect of making it easy for him to grab her before she could make a run for it and she really wanted to make a run for it.

  “Wait! You said that we weren’t going to do that until tomorrow,” Kylie pointed out somewhat hysterically, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I lied,” Hunter said as he tossed her over his shoulder and headed for the downstairs bathroom, where she would have exactly two minutes to change into her bathing suit before he broke the door down.

  “I have a call that I have to make,” Kylie rambled on nervously even as she looked for something that would save her from another swimming lesson, but Hunter made sure to steer clear of anything that could help her escape.

  “You can call them later,” Hunter said, stepping into the foyer.

  “But it’s a very important call,” she mumbled sadly, trying to think of something, anything, that would save her.

  There was one thing, but…

  “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, worrying her bottom lip.

  Without a word, Hunter put her down on her feet and walked away as he rubbed his hands roughly down his face as he slowly exhaled. She shouldn’t have told him. At least not yet, Kylie realized as dread had her stomach turning and she couldn’t help but wonder if the thoughts that had been keeping her up late at night were running through his head right now.

  She was terrified of turning into her parents. Grey had reassured her that she was nothing like her parents, but…

  What if he was wrong?

  What if she turned out to be exactly like them?

  What if Hunter didn’t want to have a child with her? Kylie wondered as she placed her hand over her flat belly, realizing that she’d never wanted anything more than she wanted this baby. She loved Hunter more than anything and she wanted to have a family with him, but he might not feel the same way. He

  “Are you sure?” Hunter asked, glancing back at her.

  Worrying her bottom lip, Kylie nodded, once.

  There was a heavy sigh, and then

  He was pulling her into his arms as he placed one hand reverently over her belly. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” Hunter asked as he brushed his lips against hers.

  “You’re happy?” Kylie asked, feeling her bottom lip tremble as she wrapped her arms around him.

  She felt his lips pull up into a grin as he pulled her closer. “I’ve never been happier.”

  *-*-*-*

  Emerald, Florida

  “Not fucking happening,” Chase said as he took in the large man standing in his doorway.

  “And why’s that?” the asshole that better not have woken Sloane with all that fucking knocking drawled as Chase sat there, taking in the angry scar that ran down the side of his face that looked a hell of a lot worse than his.

  “Because I don’t fucking need therapy,” Chase said, moving to slam the front door shut only to have the asshole reach out and place his hand on the door, stopping him.

  “I wonder if you have any idea how much Sloane cares about you,” he murmured, looking thoughtful as Chase glanced back over his shoulder toward Sloane’s closed bedroom door.

  “You’re here because of Sloane?” Chase asked, glancing back to find the other man considering him with a curious look in his eye.

  “Would that make a difference?”

  “Who are you?” Chase asked instead, turning his wheelchair around and headed to the kitchen.

  “My name is Grey,” his unwelcomed guest said as he quietly closed the front door behind him and followed Chase down the hallway.

  “How do you know Sloane?” Chase asked as he opened the refrigerator door and grabbed two beers.

  “I don’t,” Grey said, accepting a beer as he leaned back against the counter.

  “Then what are you doing here?” Chase asked, opening his beer and took a sip.

  “I received an interesting email earlier today,” Grey said, taking a sip of his beer.

  “What about?” Chase said, taking another sip only to pause when Grey said, “You.”

  Shooting him a curious glance, Grey said, “From what I’ve read, she really cares about you.”

  “She’s my aide,” Chase said, shrugging it off.

  “Oh, she’s more than that,” Grey said, sounding thoughtful as he took a sip of his beer.

  “Why do you say that?” Chase asked, placing his beer between his legs so that he could roll over to the counter.

  “Because I don’t know many aides that are willing to volunteer at a clinic in exchange for getting their patients help,” Grey explained as Chase opened the bottom cabinet and grabbed a bag of chips.

  “She did that?” Chase asked, glancing back to see Grey nodding as he sat down at the kitchen table.

  Grey took a sip of his beer as Chase tossed the chips on the table and rolled over to join him. “She offered to come in on her days off and work for free doing whatever was needed, answering phones, mopping floors, and cleaning toilets. Basically, anything we need, she’s willing to do as long as I work with you,” Grey said, taking him by surprise.

  “She’s not doing that,” Chase said firmly.

  “No, she’s not,” Grey murmured, looking thoughtful as he glanced around the kitchen, taking in the floral wallpaper that Amy had fallen in love with when she’d convinced him to buy the fucking house.

  Not really in the mood to think about just how badly she’d fucked him over, Chase gestured to the scar running down the side of Grey’s face. “Where’d you get that from?”

  “My mother,” Grey said, shrugging it off as he copied the gesture. “You?”

  “A building collapsed on top of me,” Chase said even as he couldn’t help but wonder if he should check on Sloane.

  God, she’d nearly fucking destroyed him today.

  He couldn’t stand to see a woman cry but watching Sloane cry today for that little boy had made him want to fucking kill something. He never wanted to see her in that much pain again. He’d do anything to make sure that she

  “She’s worried about you,” Grey said, drawing his attention to find the other man watching him.

  “She doesn’t need to be,” Chase said, opening the bag of chips and popped one in his mouth before he shoved the bag toward the man that was wasting his time.

  “I think she does,” Grey said as he helped himself to a chip.

  “Yeah, and why’s that?” Chase asked, deciding that he’d played along long enough as he moved to roll away from the table when Grey’s next words stopped him.

  “Because she told me that you were an annoying asshole who didn’t deserve what happened to you and it’s killing her to see you struggling. She also told me that you would probably tell me to go fuck myself, but I thought I’d risk it after reading the email that she sent me. The articles didn’t hurt either.”

  “She had no business s
ending you that email,” Chase bit out, furious that she’d gone behind his back. He didn’t need help and more importantly, he didn’t fucking want it. He was willing to work with her to fix his legs, but that was it because he was

  “You’re probably right, but from what I can see, Sloane is willing to do whatever it takes to help you, including begging a complete stranger for help. The question is, what are you willing to do for her?”

  Chapter 17

  “Why is she glaring at me?” Sloane asked, frowning when the adorable little girl that had offered them a cup of imaginary tea narrowed her eyes on her.

  “I told her that you beat me,” Chase said, adjusting the tiara that the little girl had given him with one hand as he dutifully sipped his tea.

  “When?” Sloane asked, wondering how she’d missed that.

  “When you returned the paperwork to the front desk,” Chase said before shifting his attention to the little girl. “This is delicious,” he said, making her smile.

  That is until her gaze landed back on Sloane.

  “What? I was only gone for a few seconds,” she said, trying to give the little girl a reassuring smile only to sigh when the little girl shook her head in disgust.

  “And that’s apparently all it took,” Chase said, moving his attention to the plate of invisible cookies.

  “I really hate you,” Sloane said, sighing heavily as she sat back in the surprisingly comfortable chair and took in the large waiting room.

  It was actually very welcoming.

  Over the years, she’d spent a lot of time in waiting rooms and she could always tell how the staff was going to treat her patients based on how they kept their waiting rooms. The more unwelcoming the waiting room, the worse it was going to be. There really was nothing like sitting in a hard-unforgiving plastic chair that killed your back with nothing to read but old pamphlets to pass the time as you struggled to ignore the scent of dust, body odor, and cheap air freshener while you wondered if you were going to die of heat exhaustion because they refused to turn on the air conditioner.