A Broken Man

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by Brooklyn Wilde




  Table of Contents

  ~ Acclaim for Brooklyn Wilde ~

  ~ Look for these titles from Brooklyn Wilde ~

  Copyright Warning

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  ~ About the Author ~

  ~ Also by Brooklyn Wilde ~

  ~ More Erotic Romance from Etopia Press ~

  ~ Acclaim for Brooklyn Wilde ~

  For “Unmasked”

  “Condense a full length romance book into a short story and that's what this one felt like. Emotional, sweet, and sensual, it'll definitely warm you up one way or another…”

  —Buffy Kennedy, for Buffy's Ramblings

  ~ Look for these titles from Brooklyn Wilde ~

  Now Available

  “Unmasked” from Halloween Heat VI and Halloween Heat M/F

  A Flowerpot Christmas Tree

  A Broken Man

  Brooklyn Wilde

  Copyright Warning

  EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published By

  Etopia Press

  1643 Warwick Ave., #124

  Warwick, RI 02889

  http://www.etopia-press.net

  A Broken Man

  Copyright © 2013 by Brooklyn Wilde

  ISBN: 978-1-939194-95-4

  Edited by Julian Smith

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Etopia Press electronic publication: April 2013

  Chapter One

  “I can’t do this.” Ethan’s muscles trembled as he strained against the unmoving bar. “I can’t fucking do this.” He slumped back into the chair. A bead of sweat had formed at his left temple.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s your first day. Besides, it’s only been, what…?” Sarah flipped up a page on her clipboard to look back at Ethan’s intake form. “Three months since the car accident? You’re doing great.”

  “This is pointless.”

  “It’s not pointless. The initial eval helps me to put together your physical therapy plan.”

  “I’m not talking about the goddamn evaluation. I’m talking about everything. Everything.”

  Sarah put her pencil down and looked at Ethan, studying his face. “So why are you here?”

  Ethan opened his mouth to speak and shut it again. The question was simple enough, but he couldn’t seem to find an answer.

  “I’m serious. What did you come here for if you really think it’s hopeless?”

  “It is! Do you even know what the doctors said?”

  “That’s not an answer.” Sarah’s eyes were trained on Ethan, daring him to say something. “No one forced you to come here, which can only mean one thing. Whatever the doctors said didn’t convince you.”

  Her voice was level and calm, but that tone of practiced patience grated on him. She spoke to him as if he were a dull child, not a man whose life had just been ripped away from him. She patted his legs soothingly, and he stared down at the place where she’d touched him. He hadn’t felt a thing.

  Ethan huffed in response. “Whatever. It’s a waste of time.”

  “You’re not wasting my time. I get paid the same whether you do the work or not. It’s your dime, buddy.”

  “That’s right. What do you even care? I’m just another paycheck to you.”

  A wry smile spread across Sarah’s lips. “You caught me. Physical therapy isn’t just about the glamour.” She gestured around the room at the workout machines and therapy tables. “We’re really just in it for the money. I mean, look at what my disgruntled patients’ hard-earned dollars get me.” She nodded to the window. Through it he saw a ten-year-old Honda Civic with a fading paint job baking in the sun.

  Ethan’s shoulders sagged as he let out a slow breath, like a balloon deflating. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Smart ass.” Though he tried hard to bite it back, a wisp of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  The front door flew open, and the bells hanging from it jangled when they crashed against the glass. Ethan looked up just as a young boy on a skateboard whizzed inside. With a grunt, the boy popped the board up into the air, and it skidded across the bottom bar of one of the exercise machines. He landed with a thwack and slammed his back foot down on the lip of the board, causing it to leap up into his hand. The kid didn’t seem to be in need of any physical therapy. What was this, a clinic or a skate park?

  “New board?” Sarah held out her hand for a quick high five.

  “Yep, got it for my birthday.”

  “Sweet.”

  The boy plopped onto the floor and dug a large box out of his backpack. Ethan cleared his throat in annoyance, yanking Sarah’s attention away from the boy.

  “Oh sorry,” she said. “Ethan Hendrix, meet Bradley the Bionic Boy.”

  Bradley nodded and uttered a quick “’sup.”

  Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. Just then, Bradley got the box open and handed Sarah a large metal object shaped like a scythe.

  “Bitchin’.” She turned it over in her hands, admiring the strange-looking object. Finally, she held it out to Ethan. “Bradley here just got his first set of running legs. Wanted to stop by and take them for a quick spin. This should only take a minute.”

  Running legs? Ethan heard the words but couldn’t work out what they meant until he saw Bradley roll up his jeans and remove his standard prosthetic legs, revealing stumps just below his knees. The realization took Ethan’s breath away.

  Bradley set the prosthetics to the side, still clad in sneakers and white athletic socks. Sarah handed over the running leg, and he fitted it onto his left stump. Compared to the standard prosthetics, the running blade looked sleek and futuristic, like something out of a sci-fi movie. Bradley pulled the other blade from its box and placed it onto his right stump. In an instant, he was up onto the blades, bouncing and feeling them out. Ethan couldn’t believe how quickly the kid adapted to the new limbs.

  Sarah probed around the base, checking the fit. “How do they feel? Any pinching?”

  “Nope. They feel good.”

  She demonstrated the proper motion and checked Bradley’s form while he took a few practice steps.

  “All right.” She gave the kid a conspiratorial glance. “Let’s do this.”

  With that, the two of them took off through the aisles. The jog turned into a run when they took the corner, and reached a full-blown sprint by the time they made their first lap. Ethan felt like he was watching a bird take flight for the first time. The boy’s movements were awkward at first, but quickly turned graceful, effortless. Sarah
jokingly put a hand on his chest and pushed herself ahead, which only spurred him on.

  “Really push off and throw your weight into it.” She was running as hard as she could, and the words came out in a short staccato between breaths.

  Bradley took to the running legs like a duck to water, and he was pulling away from her with every step. She finally gave in and slowed to a stop. She was breathing heavily by the time she made her way back over to Ethan. Bradley ran another full lap before bringing it home. He spread his arms open for a hug, but misjudged the distance and wound up tackling Sarah to the ground. The two of them collapsed into a heap, laughing hysterically. They could have been brother and sister. Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that, and he didn’t think he ever would again.

  “A little rough on the landing, but not bad for your first time out.” Sarah gave Bradley a push, and he bounded upright. He was already stuffing his everyday legs, calves first, back into his backpack by the time Sarah managed to get herself up off the floor. The sneakered feet stuck comically out of the unzipped compartment.

  “I’ve gotta go,” he said. “I’m meeting my friends at the park to show these babies off. Think I’ll be good enough for the track team next year?”

  “No question.”

  Bradley nodded in Ethan’s general direction and turned to leave. The bells clanged just as hard when Bradley hit the door on his way out as they had when he came in. Sarah was still smiling when she turned her attention back to Ethan, who was eyeing her curiously.

  “Did you plan that?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Did you ask him to stop by here?”

  “No, why would I do that?”

  “To make me feel like an asshole.”

  That earned a round of laughter from Sarah, and for the first time, Ethan realized how pretty she was. Her cheeks were flushed from the exercise, and a few strands of hair had fallen from her ponytail and hung loose about her face. She collapsed into the chair in front of him.

  “No,” she said when she finally caught her breath. “But I should have.”

  “He’s a real pity-party pooper.”

  “That he is.”

  “What happened to him anyway?”

  “Nothing. Bradley was born without any legs. Can’t miss something you never had.”

  “You’re good with kids. You treat him like he’s a grown-up.”

  “Well, sometimes kids can be very grown-up, and sometimes adults can be big old babies.” She looked pointedly at him.

  “Touché. I guess I don’t have it as bad as I thought.”

  “Tell me, what exactly did the doctors say?”

  Ethan leaned back in his wheelchair and stared down at his lifeless lower half. “That even though my spinal cord wasn’t severed, I’ll probably never walk again. They said I’m lucky to be alive, and if I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt, I wouldn’t be.”

  “You are lucky. Probably is better than definitely.” She patted Ethan’s thighs. “No catheter or colostomy bag?”

  Ethan reddened at the suggestion and shook his head vehemently.

  “Look, if you’ve still got control of your mind and your bowels, you’ve got nothing to complain about.”

  “Are you always such a goddamned optimist?”

  “Comes with the job. You want someone to listen to you whine? See a shrink.”

  “I don’t need a shrink.”

  “Okay then. Time to buck up and get your ass to work.”

  Chapter Two

  The papers covering Ethan’s desk had reached mountainous proportions. He struggled to get his old office chair out from behind the desk and squeeze his wheelchair into the vacant space. Of course, things would have been much easier if he hadn’t snapped at his assistant when she tried to help, but accepting help was hard for him. Flowers and an apology for Marie were added to his ever-growing to-do list.

  In the months since the accident, everyone at the company had scrambled to cover for Ethan. They’d been out on back-to-back tours without even weekend breaks in between. All of them were exhausted, and Ethan didn’t know how he could ask them to do any more.

  He was busy signing payroll checks and authorizing expenses when Tony Charles, his top guide, walked in and plopped down on a chair.

  “Welcome back.” Tony whistled at the stacks of paperwork. “You home now?”

  “The hospital cut me loose this morning. I came straight here. Haven’t even been by my place yet. How you been doing?” Ethan noticed the dark circles under Tony’s tired eyes, circles that hadn’t been there before.

  “Oh you know me, I’m just coasting.”

  Ethan ran both hands through his hair. “Listen, Tony, I’m so sorry about all of this. About all I’ve put you guys through. It’s a clusterfuck.”

  “What are you sorry for? How many people get paid to go spelunking and scuba diving? Vacationing is my day job. Can’t complain.”

  Tony’s endless gratitude eased the tension in Ethan’s shoulders. Tony hadn’t seen the inside of his house in nearly two months, and instead of getting pissed about it, he was thanking the man who’d made it happen.

  “I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep asking you guys to cover for me, and I don’t think I’m going to be in any shape to lead a tour anytime soon.”

  “Did they say how long you’re going to be stuck in that thing?” Tony nodded down toward the wheelchair.

  “Hard to say. These things, nobody can tell.” Ethan couldn’t bring himself to say the thing that he hadn’t yet accepted, which was that he’d probably be in the wheelchair for the rest of his life.

  Tony looked worried, but didn’t press for details. “I hope it’s a really long time. You always did Bogart the best tours for yourself. Now I get first dibs.”

  Damn it felt good to be picked on, to be treated like the person he was…even if he wasn’t anymore. He would have liked to give Tony a hug, if he could have gotten up. He tried to distract himself by turning the conversation back to business. “I’ve got ads out. I’m trying to hire more people, but the response has been pretty thin.”

  “Seriously? People aren’t banging down your door for a job?”

  “You’d think so, but it’s not that simple. Even in a down economy, it’s hard to find people to do this kind of work. When it comes down to it, most folks don’t want to spend half their lives away from home. And when you find someone who does, more often than not, they aren’t physically capable of performing the job.” He gave a disgusted laugh. “How’s that for irony? I turn people away for not being able to swim or climb mountains, and look at me. I’m a goddamn cripple. I should just go ahead and sell. Find someone who can do the work.”

  “No.” Tony’s demeanor had turned serious. “You shouldn’t. We can handle the extra workload until we find more people. You built this company up from nothing, and you aren’t bailing out now. Besides, what the hell else are you gonna do?”

  * * *

  Ethan was two and a half hours late for his doctor’s appointment the next morning.

  “Do you know what time it is? You think I got all day to wait for you?” Dr. Sanchez didn’t even have the door shut before she started in on him. Her eyes locked onto the dark bruise on his cheek and the deep gash in his forehead. She instantly started prodding and checking the wounds. “Ay dios mio. What the hell happened to you? You get robbed?”

  “Nothing. It was nothing. I…fell out of my chair.” Ethan cowered ever so slightly when he said the words. Dr. Sanchez was a small woman in her late 50s, but she had an absolutely commanding presence. She left no question as to who was in charge. In fact, she was downright intimidating. He thought they ought to let her run prisons; she’d get those convicts to act right in about twenty minutes.

  “How did you fall?” She rifled through Ethan’s chart. “What’s the aid’s name? The one who was on shift when you fell? I’m calling Home Health to report this and give them a piece of my mind.”

&nb
sp; He looked at the wall, the tiles, anywhere to avoid Dr. Sanchez’s eyes.

  “What? Spit it out.” She tapped a foot expectantly.

  “Yeah…about that. I didn’t actually hire an aid. I just signed the forms so they’d let me go home.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “And look what happened. You do this the first night you get out of the hospital? What did I tell you? Eh?” Dr. Sanchez gave Ethan a light smack right on the bruise, and he winced as much from surprise as the pain. “You can’t be by yourself. Somebody needs to be with you twenty-four hours a day.” She slapped her hands together, accenting each syllable. “All day, every day. I’m going to have to run a full workup now just to make sure you didn’t injure yourself any further.”

  “I can’t. Don’t you get it? What it means if I have to hire some stranger to wipe my ass? I can’t handle being an invalid—a cripple who needs a nanny.”

  Her tone softened. “Do you have someone who can stay with you? Family or friends? Anybody?”

  “There’s no one.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “Died when I was little.”

  “A girlfriend?”

  “Never had time for one. The only relationship I’ve been able to maintain long-term is with my business.”

  “Maybe a co-worker then?”

  Dry laughter escaped Ethan’s throat. “They’re all tied up covering my ass.”

  “Then you either need to hire live-in help or you’re going to have to move into a long-term care facility. It’s too dangerous for you to be on your own. I’m sorry.” Something seemed to occur to Dr. Sanchez, and she asked, “You do have someone to take you home today, right?”

  “No, I called a car service.”

  “Qué tonto eres. You’re going to need stitches. I’ll patch you up and give you something for the pain, but I can’t send you home alone.”

 

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