JT winked at Kelsey, spurning a becoming pink flush to rise in her cheeks. “Mac’s okay. I'll let you know when he gets out of hand.” He angled his head just in time to see Kelsey's rear end as she turned to walk away, shaking her head.
Mac closed the door, his smile broad. “Yeah, I can see why you’re ‘so hurt’.” He leaned against the counter next to the chair Blake had claimed during the exchange. Mac folded his arms across his chest and tucked his chin while he took the measure of JT’s mood. “Have you heard from your dad?”
Leave it to Mac to bring up the elephant in the room, strap a 450 engine on it, and set it loose.
JT shifted on the bed, wincing at the sharp pain in his lower leg and through the ankle. “Nah, Mike's gone. I checked our joint bank account a little bit ago. It got below zero this afternoon. Exactly what I was hoping for. He’s gone and he thinks he got all the cash. I just wanted him gone.” He didn’t care what happened to his father, as long as he was out of the way until JT’s birthday. “Hopefully he’s gone until after my birthday. If I can make it that long, there’s nothing he can do. I have proof he stole from me.”
“He left? With all your cash? What are you going to do? How are you going to live?” Blake put his feet up, his boots resting on the edge of JT's bed. His hand slowed in its sporadic jostling, but he still moved, having too much pent-up energy to hold completely still.
“You know my setup. He didn't get everything.” JT scratched at the IV site on his arm.
What if he was allergic to the adhesive? Should he call Kelsey to check on it, just to be sure? No. He decided he didn’t need Blake around her. The guy had more hormones than all of the JV football team at the local high school. He’d move on Kelsey before JT even had a chance to find out what her favorite color was.
JT cleared his throat. “He didn’t even get close to a quarter of it.”
“You’re gonna have to move back in with us. You’ve never been good with numbers. You’re probably broke.” Blake shook his head, folding his arms. He muttered under his breath toward Mac. “I’m not giving back my parking space. Just sayin’.” He leaned back in the chair and nearly toppled backwards. He would have, too, if not for Mac’s quick interference with a hand to the back board.
“I’m sitting right here, you jackass. Don’t worry. I refuse to move back in with you fools.” JT scoffed.
He wouldn’t move back in with those two, if it killed him. They were slobs. Plus, why would he need to? He owned the house. Not Mike. JT had his own home, regardless of his father’s attempts to keep him from buying one. JT had made the purchase and it had been the only one he’d ever made that Mike hadn’t had any input on.
JT’s name on the title hadn’t aided JT in keeping Mike out of the home. His father had claimed the mother-in-law suite on the lower level, preventing JT from finding respite from the demands of being around his irresponsible and manipulative parent. The only parent who had stuck around probably didn’t deserve complete disdain, though that’s what he was getting. He’d earned as much over the years.
Twenty-seven years old and JT had nothing else in his own name. Even the Dodge truck in his garage was co-owned by Mike. At least, JT was almost twenty-seven. He only had a few weeks left, just under four, to be exact.
Freedom had a distinct taste and as soon as he could, JT was going to revel in it.
“Are you still worried that canceling your contract makes you a bad son?” Mac always got right to the heart of the problem. He didn't wait for anyone to tell him what was going on. He sensed something was off and he jumped right in to find out what was wrong. The man was all heart.
JT jerked his head up and down, guilt rearing its ugly head in a rare display around the topic of his father. “Yeah. With mom gone, I’m all he has.” Even though Mike didn’t care and JT knew it. JT’s mom hadn’t been able to stay with Mike and Mike hadn’t let her take JT with him. She’d left before Mike could control her to death, but she’d abandoned JT in the process.
“Screw that. He doesn't give a damn about you. You need to stick it to him. As hard as you can. It's okay to get what you deserve and it's okay that he gets what he deserves, too,” Blake said.
Blake’s bluntness was one of the things JT appreciated about his friend. Usually he kept his mouth shut, but not that time and it was exactly what JT needed to hear.
“You only have a few weeks, right? Oh, man, that’s going to feel so good to be free of him.” Blake leaned his head back with his eyes closed. “I can see it now, JT stops acting like an old man because his old man is out of the picture.” He looked forward and made a goofy face at JT. “Just kidding, man. Although you do act old.”
JT didn't want anyone, even his friends, to know that finding out his dad had left with all his money, or what Mike thought included all of JT’s money, hurt more than he could express. He was never good enough for his father, no matter how hard he tried. Mike always had a blonde, brunette, another gamble, or another bet to place. Everything came before JT. Everything. JT's best interests didn’t even score.
As soon as JT's dad discovered his son had racing talent, he jumped to exploit the hell out of JT and hadn’t stopped since. When JT was seventeen, Mike forced him to sign a ten-year contract and monopolized JT’s entire racing career.
Blake huffed, picking at his shirt. “As soon as you turn twenty-seven, you're free. Then you can start your new career.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mac as if to ask for agreement on the subject.
Mac laughed and straightened, clapping his hand onto Blake's shoulder. He pushed his scruffy blond hair to the side. “Nah, JT's not going to leave us. We need him to qualify for Des Nations and we’re going this year, boys. We just need to hit qualifying races.”
Motocross des Nations, also known as the Olympics of Motocross, was no laughing matter. In previous years, each of them had missed a couple of the core races they needed to qualify. That year, the first big one would be Salt Lake. In just a handful of weeks.
As if he just realized the significance of the next month or so, Mac narrowed his gaze at JT. He leaned forward. “You’re going to be ready for Salt Lake, right? Did they give you a racing date? I’m not going with anyone else to Nations, JT. I’m serious. And this will most likely be our last year.” He glanced between Blake and JT. “You guys, I’m not joking. We have to go out at the top. We deserve it. And it’s at Glen Helen this season.”
Glen Helen wasn’t too far from their hometown. Missing the opportunity to represent the country at Des Nations wasn’t an option. JT clenched his jaw. He had to make it. What would he do, if the doctors didn’t approve him? Did he care? Would it keep him from qualifying?
“I’ll do it, no matter what,” JT said. His determination might get him killed, but he could handle road rash more than he could handle disappointing his friends.
Mac shook his head. “That won’t do. If you hurt yourself worse, then you’re worthless for Nations. No point in showing up, if we can’t even compete well.” His words rang true and they stung.
JT needed a plan. He grinned at Mac in agreement, hiding the grimace in his heart. Could he do it? Could he even make it to the championships? Let alone Des Nations...
Chapter 4
Kelsey
Another day off and Kelsey needed it. Between the two new patients she had and running interference for the dirt biker's room, exhaustion stole her claim to sanity. All of her motivation to do anything worthwhile slipped out the door.
Before leaving for the night, she ducked in to check on Josiah. If for no other reason than to be around him, but actually, she wanted to make sure he was doing okay. Gently pushing open the door with a soft knock, Kelsey cocked her head to the side and paused in the doorway. She stared in disbelief as JT wobbled on one foot on the side of his bed. His head angled back and he had his eyes squeezed shut.
“What are you doing? I don’t think you were cleared to leave the bed yet, were you?” She closed the door behind her and folded her ar
ms with an eyebrow quirked.
Startled, JT moved to pull his hospital gown tighter around his backside and he teetered more precariously on the one leg. He must have been tired and probably dizzy. Kelsey rushed to his side and grabbed his uninjured arm to steady him. “Shh. I got you.”
His warm hand closed around hers and he clung to her.
“I’m sorry. I... I didn’t think I’d get so dizzy. I almost passed out.” He shook his head, his sprained wrist hanging limply at his side. “I’m really not this weak.”
Kelsey met his gaze and nodded slightly. “Of course, not. I’m going to pivot you this way to help you sit down.” She helped him turn on his planted foot and lowered him to the bed. She checked his IV connection and unhooked the wires he’d twisted up before reconnecting them. “Do you need something?” She glanced around his room to see what he would be going for.
Multiple balloon bouquets and vases overflowing with flowers that were wrapped in ribbons all had one color in common – red. Reds of all hues and tones. Pinks and whites were mixed in, but sparingly.
“It looks like Valentine’s Day threw up in here.” Kelsey wrinkled her nose. “Red is not a good color.”
JT glanced at her sharply and then rubbed his shoulder. “Honda’s are red.”
“Okay?” Kelsey reached across him and tied the top strings of his gown. Good for Hondas. She wasn’t sure why that mattered but apparently red was important.
“I ride Honda.” His tone turned despondent as if he were lonely and no one understood him.
“Oh.” Kelsey stopped with the busy work and let her hands fall to her side. She’d stopped worrying about him and it showed in her care. She was so worried about getting attached to a racer that she’d avoided seeing him as a patient in need.
She looked around the overflowing room. “You have a lot of friends.” Kelsey lifted her hand to point at the flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals manning every spare space and then some. “A lot of patients never even get visitors when they’re here.” Let alone so many flowers and gifts that they fall off the counters.
“Take them. Take all of them and give them away, okay? They aren’t friends. They’re fans. There’s a difference.” He didn’t look up or even meet her gaze.
“What’s wrong? You don’t normally have a problem looking at me.” Kelsey wasn’t one to hide behind shyness. She was his nurse. She could fix it. “Are you in pain again? Do you need to use the bathroom? Seriously, what can I do to help you?”
He snorted. “Yeah, that’s just it. I’m not used to needing help. You can’t see me as a man because you’re busy helping me to the bathroom.” He tugged at the gown. “I’m in a dress for hell’s sake.” Blushing, he shook his head, the hair brushing the bow at the back by his neck.
Struck helpless by his words, Kelsey stood there as if she’d been frozen. “I don’t know how to fix that for you. Helping you is my job and I’m good at my job.” Helping people defined who she was.
“I know.” He didn’t look at her, a bright flush colored his cheeks. “It’s okay. I don’t need anything. I’m fine. I’ll figure it out.”
Kelsey’s eyebrows furrowed as her lips scrunched to the side. “But you don’t need to figure anything out. I’m here to help you. This is what I do. It doesn’t make you less of a person to need help.” She considered his despondent expression. “I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t look back as she rushed from the room to the supply closet. After a moment of gathering items, she returned to his room with her arms full. Plopping her offerings beside him and leaning a couple against the bed, she smiled confidently and repeated patiently. “Okay, it’s my job to help you. You want help not needing help, right?”
He nodded, a question in his eyes as he finally looked at her. “That doesn’t make sense. You know that, right?”
She chuckled. “Just trust me, okay?” She grabbed from the top of the pile and shook out a pair of blue scrub pants. “If that gown is making it hard for you to feel better, then let’s try less... revealing clothes.”
Kelsey knelt and shimmied the scrub pants up his calves.
He leaned down and dragged them higher with one hand. “Thank you.”
Helping him stand while he pulled them up the rest of the way, Kelsey smiled. “Don’t think I’m leaving you with that gown either. We have pretty comfortable scrub tops. I’ll help you pull it on.”
She glanced at his waist where he held the waistband of the scrubs in his good hand. White ties hung in front of him. It would be impossible for him to tie them with one hand.
Kelsey’s mouth dried up with nerves. “Do you need me to help tie that?” Previously so sure of her job, she was suddenly shy, anxious to reclaim her professionalism.
JT cleared his throat, his answer hoarse. “Yes, please.”
With short, sure movements, Kelsey tied the strings, careful not to touch his bare skin above the light blue material. Her words were soft. “You’ll need to remove the gown, so we can put the top on.” She yanked carefully at the ties, pulling off the voluminous clothing. “I’m only going to disconnect the IV for a second, okay?” She undid the line and then removed the remaining material from his form.
A large black tire tread had been tattooed across his back like someone had driven over him. The shadowy depths of the dark angles gave the inked pattern a 3-dimensional effect. Kelsey caught herself from reaching out and tracing the lines between each shape. She did her best to ignore the muscular valleys and hills of his chest and arms.
Together they eased the new top over his injured arm and then up over his head, followed by the uninjured arm. JT winced as they maneuvered him into the shirt.
“Is that better?” She settled the shirt hem at his waist and reconnected the IV. She stepped back. “That’s not all.” Kelsey grinned as she retrieved crutches from the side of the bed and handed them to him. “You should be able to use at least one. Maybe not right away, but if you do it right, you’ll be improving faster than you should be. Just take it a step at a time.” Why hadn’t they had him up and moving around? Normally, hospital protocol was to get as ambulatory as possible to prevent pneumonia and other issues. Why they were treating JT differently stymied her.
Kelsey patted her pocket for her phone before removing it to check the time. “I better get going. I’m off the clock.”
She peeked at him from under her lashes. Would he be gone when she got back? She didn’t know how long they would watch him for his concussion. As it was, she was surprised he was even there that long.
“Can I ask you a question?” She continued at his nod. “Why are you still here? I mean, you don’t have anything broken. Most of your injuries are outpatient.”
“I’m insured. Like my whole body. So, they cover my injuries like I’m worth gold.” He laughed as he settled back onto the bed, carefully moving his leg onto the mattress. “My insurance pays extra to keep me in here to get the best care. I’ll probably go home in the next couple days.” He took Kelsey’s hand and turned it over, so her palm was cradled in his. “When will you be back?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” After that, it would be a few days. Her part-time schedule would never pay enough for what she needed to do. Kelsey pulled her hand from his. “Before I go, you should know I put in a call for extra security to your room. They said they’d send up an extra guy.” The nursing staff didn’t need to deal with the crazy that came along with housing a celebrity.
He stared bemusedly at her. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, though?”
She chewed her lip as she ducked from his room, suddenly shy. She’d just helped him dress. Something needed to ground her a bit.
Her soft turquoise Volkswagen was the last thing she had from her parents. A lot of her mom’s stories had centered around her driving that bug around college. When her parents had passed in the car accident, in her father’s pickup, Kelsey had laughed for days while she’d cried.
Mom would’ve said, “Notice we didn’t g
et in an accident in the bug,” and she would’ve smirked at her husband while he’d smacked her rear end with his hand.
Kelsey had shoved what she wanted from her home into the bug and gone to live with her grandmother, who had early onset dementia. Kelsey had no idea for another two years just how serious her grandmother’s health was.
Inside her small studio apartment, four flights up, Kelsey tossed her keys on the miniscule counter. She didn't even take her scrubs off as she flopped onto the squeaky futon. Her phone buzzed on her hip. Who was calling her? She was so just too tired to care. She just wanted to ignore whoever it was. She sighed, wondering if she should even answer, or if she should just let it go to voicemail to allow her to get some sleep.
Huffing, she pulled the phone out. The number was restricted, usually a sign that it was the nursing home her grandmother had moved to. She swiped the screen to answer. “This is Kelsey.” Ugh, she wasn’t at work. A simple hello was fine when she wasn’t on the floor.
“Kelsey, this is Savanna in the billing department at the Whitman Nursing Home. We have tried multiple times to send you notices by mail. The last couple times you visited your grandmother, the nurse said you were resistant to talking with anyone about the matter of payment. At this time, we are forced to issue you a two week notice. That’s two weeks to rehome your grandmother. If you fail to do so, we will have to call the APS division.” The woman didn’t even stop to take a breath as she delivered her spiel.
Kelsey's heart sank. She didn't have the money to pay for her grandmother's care. Every cent she had was going into her schooling and her rent was behind on the furnished studio.
“I’ve been making payments.” Though not complete ones and she knew it. Kelsey pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose.
“The money you’ve been sending in has bought you some time, but you’re delinquent on quite a bit of money. At this point, we simply can’t extend the time any further.” She didn’t lack compassion, but she was steadfast, unwavering.
Downshift Series, #1 Page 3
