Deep In You (The Phoenix Series Book 1)

by David S. Scott

  I was dazed. I’d never fallen like that before. My entire body had tensed as I fell. I tried to get up, but the pain overwhelmed me. I collapsed onto my side and rolled flat onto my back. My stomach roiled, my vision darkened as my breakfast threatened to be forced up and out. Vaguely, almost as if it were happening to someone else, I became aware of the horrified tone of the announcer’s voice, the fact that the crowd had gone silent, and worst of all… Sam’s terrified face as he tried to get my attention.

  “Sam…?”

  “Don’t move, Xander. The paramedics will have the stretcher here in just a moment.”

  That’s it. He didn’t ask me to do anything, didn’t ask inane questions about how many fingers he was holding up. He didn’t touch me at all, just stood close by, waiting. Clearly, I was too fucked up for there to be any need.

  What the hell had I done?

  Chapter Seventeen

  I woke to a shrill beep. My eyes jerked open. I tried to focus on my surroundings. I was in a strange bed in a strange white room. The sound came from a slender metal stand next to my bed. A clear, almost empty bag hung from the pole, swinging slightly.

  An IV. This was a hospital room. I tried to sit up, but pain ripped through my back and arm, threatening to make me black out. I fumbled for the call button my foggy brain knew had to be there.

  The EMTs had determined that I needed X-rays, so they’d brought me to the hospital. My left arm had been dislocated at the shoulder socket. My jaw clenched. Resetting that had been a blast. But the real problem was my back. Worry pooled in my gut. What would become of me?

  After the X-rays, they had stuck me in a room and told me that my regular doctor would visit me in the morning. The overnight doc had ordered pain medications, and they’d essentially knocked me out for the night.

  My right hand gripped the wired remote that held the call button.

  The static-filled voice through the remote sounded tinny, disjointed. “Your light is on. How can I help you?”

  I cleared my throat. “The IV alarm is going off.”

  “I’ll send in your nurse.” The static vanished and, with it, my connection to the outside world. I dropped the remote, exhausted.

  What the hell had happened out there? That was my event. Mine. All I had had to do was claim it, but I’d lost my focus.

  I sighed. I’d lost my focus because my subconscious knew what was really important. Lily. She was carrying my child. My child. We hadn’t known each other long. She’d said this last week was the best in her life. Well, it was one of mine, too. And I’d panicked and walked out on her.

  I could never ask Lily to have an abortion. The thought was horrific to me. I was sure she didn’t want to, either. If she had wanted to end it, wouldn’t she have done it already? We’d have to find a way to make this work. We could split time between us like other unmarried parents.

  Or, what if Lily could be my future? She said she loved me. Did she mean it?

  I could always propose. That would be the honorable thing to do.

  An image formed in my mind: coming home to my family, kissing my wife, having meals together. It looked… right. Things may not be easy as we got to know each other, but we’d find a way.

  Feelings of both hope and dread fought for control of my body. Was it wrong of me to think of proposing now that my gymnastics career was almost certainly over? Was I merely facing some sort of existential crisis from the probable loss of my ability to compete anymore? Did this mean I was dumping all my hopes and goals on her? Hell, yeah… and I knew it.

  None of that changed the fact that it was still the right thing to do.

  I had to get myself together for the sake of our child. I could learn to love Lily.

  The door swung open, followed by a brief tap. “Can I come in?” I turned to stare, half expecting Lily to walk in, but it was just a blonde woman dressed in bright blue scrubs, dragging a rolling kiosk with a laptop on it behind her.

  “You ask me after opening the door? Not like I could stop you even if I wanted to. Come on in. Your hospital.”

  She smiled and flipped a switch on the IV pole, silencing it. The ringing echoed in my ears in the sudden quiet.

  “My name is Corrine, and I am your nurse today. How are you feeling, Mr. Phoenix?”

  “Well, as long as I don’t move too much, just fine.”

  “What is your pain level on a scale of one to ten?”

  “Sitting still or moving?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Umm… not moving, maybe a four. When I try to sit up…” I tried, gasping at the pain. “Eight.”

  She tapped away at some keys on the laptop. “It’s been about six hours since your last dose of pain medication. I’ll bring you more Dilaudid. And more fluids for your IV. Do you need anything else?”

  Lily. “No, thank you.”

  She turned and dragged the rolling kiosk out with her.

  I returned to planning out my next moves with Lily. My decision was made, not that I had much alternative. Every other option seemed bleaker than the last. Child support payments? Living alone, bitter, consumed by broken dreams? No, I had to take steps to improve things. We already lived together. After I got discharged I would get a ring and propose. I’d get flowers, play soft music, the works. She’d love it… I hoped.

  My gymnastics future was uncertain. I desperately tried not to think about it, but spinal injuries were the kiss of death for many athletes, and I knew it. I had enough money saved up from sponsorships and medal awards that we could live comfortably for a few years, but I would need to start thinking of a more stable job to support my family.

  Family.

  I groaned, running my fingers through my hair. This wasn’t me. None of this was me. How had my life derailed so quickly? Gymnastics was my life, and now what could I do? Coaching? The thought of becoming Sam and dealing with someone like me made me want to panic. My eyes darted around the room. Wasn’t it bigger just a few minutes ago? I felt trapped in a shoebox, contemplating marrying a woman I barely knew and raising a child with her. Now. When my professional life was over. What the actual fuck? I buried my face in my hand.

  The door burst open and Corrine walked back in. “Are you all right, Mr. Phoenix?”

  I shook my head, my face still covered. I couldn’t breathe. My chest burned. I felt cool hands on mine, trying to uncover my face. “Breathe, sir. You’re having a panic attack. Your heart rate is much too high right now. Do I need to call your doctor?”

  I nodded. He needed to come tell me what the hell was wrong with me and if I had a shot at rehabilitation.

  As if on cue, we both heard the sound of a throat clearing at the door. A man stood there, stony-faced, gripping a burgundy hardbound folder. Dr. Clarke, MD was emblazoned on his white lab coat.

  “Mr. Phoenix, why are you alarming the monitor tech?” The emerging grin took the sting out of his harsh words.

  “Didn’t know I was.” The room was still too small, still oppressive, but I was quickly calming. Corrine stepped out and returned a moment later to switch out IV bags.

  “Do you have panic attacks often?”

  “No,” I answered. I almost never had them.

  He nodded. “I was reviewing your X-rays. You really did a number on yourself. You have two compression fractures, one on your L5 vertebrae and a smaller one on your L4.” He opened the binder and flipped a few pages. “And dislocated your shoulder, which obviously you knew.”

  I stared back at him, my mind blank, struggling to comprehend what he was saying. My last bit of strength evaporated as the weight of his words struck home. “I’ve broken my back?” I whispered.

  “Compression fractures, technically. In layman’s terms, yes. The good news is it’s definitely not the worst thing you could do to yourself.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, for starters, you’re not paralyzed. I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt for quite some time, but it isn’t a full break
, and you have every chance for a full recovery and pain-free life. Most people with this injury are able to live perfectly normal lives. I’m going to prescribe you some pain medicines and muscle relaxers, and a back brace. You’ll need to see an osteopath and perhaps an orthopedic surgeon, depending on how things go. They will determine whether you can get by with physical therapy in a few months or if you’ll need surgery. For now, just take it easy and try to move as little as possible.”

  “You’re discharging me?” Thank God. I wanted out of here.

  “I think there’s little we can do for you here, other than to continue giving you pain medication, which you can give yourself at home. As long as you’re careful, you’re good to go. Is there someone who can pick you up?”

  “Sam, my coach. Doctor Clarke?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are the chances I will heal enough to be able to compete again?”

  Doctor Clarke didn’t answer for a long time. “Never say never, son. I don’t want to raise your hopes with false promises. Let’s just focus on reaching that ‘pain free’ status for the time being.”

  I nodded. I knew it was a long shot now, but hearing it out loud sucked. I shouldn’t have asked.

  The doctor left. The pain didn’t seem anywhere near as unbearable as it had been. Of course. Corrine must have started the pain meds. I spotted a phone on a table to my left and pulled the whole thing onto the bed so I could dial Sam.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Lily? Are you here?” I called as I opened the door. My home felt strange after I’d left in such a rush two nights ago. She hadn’t been answering her phone. I worried that she’d grown tired of waiting for me and left.

  I had left the hospital in the early morning. After filling my prescriptions and picking up the back brace, I’d had Sam stop at a jewelry store. He’d adamantly tried to stop me, telling me I shouldn’t make life decisions while under the influence of pain medicines, but I ignored him. I’d lost gymnastics. I’d be damned if I lost Lily, too.

  I had the feeling Sam wanted to scold me for allowing myself to lose focus at the worst possible time, but he–correctly–decided I was punishing myself enough.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’ve been in the hospital.” I held out the bouquet of roses and lilies I’d picked up for her. She stared at them as if she’d never seen flowers before.

  “I saw. I was watching you compete.” Her voice was flat, as though she were half asleep or drugged. My eyes narrowed.

  “You saw? I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “I shut off my phone. I’ve been tired. Are you okay?”

  “No, but we’ll figure it out. These are for you.” I wiggled the arrangement at her, but she still didn’t take them. What was it with her and flowers? I was going to end up with a complex at this rate. “Please take them, Lily. This is not the most comfortable position to be standing in.” I grimaced to demonstrate my point.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She took them and stared at them blankly.

  “I’m sorry I left the other night. It was wrong of me.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “John’s.”

  “I’m sorry you felt the need to go, too. I’m sorry you didn’t trust me enough to stay and work it out.”

  “Lily, it wasn’t about trust. It just came as a huge shock. Can’t you understand? You’d already had time to adjust. I didn’t.”

  She nodded, tightening her grip around the bouquet.

  “Look, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then, and I have a question for you.”

  Her eyes widened. I wasn’t sure if she was happy, afraid, or some combination of the two. Only thing to do now was to press on.

  “I’m sorry. I’d kneel, but it hurts and I’m not positive I’d be able to get back up again. We haven’t known each other long, but our time together has been… nice. I want more of it. We can create a life together, and I want to be there for you and our child. You’ve said you love me. Well, I love you, too. I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know everything about you.” I paused to clear my throat.

  “Lily Campbell, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” I opened the ring box and held it out to her.

  She dropped the flowers on the floor, causing some of them to spill out of the green cellophane wrapping. The chaotic way the fragile buds splayed on the floor reflected my frayed nerves. I forced myself to look at her face, noticing the blood had drained away, leaving her as pale as the white sand Florida beaches were famous for. Her mouth hung open. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, her expression would have been comical–a perfect caricature of shock.

  I waited for her to pull herself together. I knew my question had come as a surprise, but this was the right thing to do. I’d stay by her side and we’d raise our baby together.

  Finally, her mouth closed, and color returned to her cheeks. She seemed to have gained back some of her composure. I waited patiently for her to accept and put me out of my misery.

  “Oh, Xander… no.”

  To be continued…

  David S. Scott is a new author of erotica and erotic romance novels. After fishing his debut novels, Deep in You and its sequel Deeper in You, he is moving on to several other projects, including an erotic paranormal tentatively titled Obsidian Angel. He is in his mid-thirties and happily married, and has a bit of a wicked sense of humor. When not writing, David can be found reading a variety of genres or playing “nerd games” like Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. David loves interacting with people and meeting new friends, so please be sure to follow him on his author page:

  facebook.com/AuthorDavidScott