SHELBY:Do you need help?
CHASE:I’m fine
Far from it.
Chase stared at the phone for a long moment, but Shelby didn’t text anything else. Was she angry? Upset?
He didn’t know, and that set off a whole new round of anxiety to go with the pain in his back and the disappointment that he’d probably fucked this up. Again.
He tried to keep his breathing shallow so he didn’t set off a new round of agonizing spasms. Shadows fellacross the room, and before he knew it, he was dragged back into hell, until he awoke and grabbed the wrist of the person attacking him.
“Chase. It’s me. Shelby. Wake up.”
The disturbing images in his head evaporated, and he stared up into Shelby’s eyes, confused and fighting off a panic attack.
“Let me go,” she said.
Chase stared harder at Shelby, trying to figure out why she was here and what was wrong, because she looked very concerned.
“Let go,” she snapped.
He finally realized he had her wrist in his locked grip and let go like her skin burned, though the only thing on fire was the muscles in his back and the self-recriminations in his head for laying a hand on her. “I’m sorry. Shelby, I... I’m so sorry.”
She rubbed at her wrist. “I shouldn’t have spooked you like that. I saw that you were having a nightmare...” She shook her head. “I should have called out to you instead of touching you. You must have thought...”
Chase rubbed his hands over his face, setting off a whole new round of spasms in his back, then reached out to Shelby, only to pull his hand back at the last second. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. And yeah... I thought you were the enemy.” He covered his face with both arms crossed over his eyes again. It helped alleviate the pain in his shoulders and made it so he didn’t have to look at the fear in her eyes he’d seen when he had her in his grasp. “I’m sorry, honey. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”
A little body snuggled up to his side. He kept one arm over his eyes and rubbed his hand over Eliza’s back.
“Dada fell down.” Eliza patted his chest with her little hand.
Chase uncovered his face and stared up at Shelby. “What are you doing here?”
“You did that thing where you say you’re fine, but I know you’re not, so I came to help you even though you didn’t ask. And you should have.”
“I can’t get up off the damn floor right now. There’s nothing you can do to fix that, and I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
“So we should only be together when we’re acting like we’re at our best?” She cocked one eyebrow and stared him down.
He couldn’t believe they were arguing while he was flat on his back. “No. It’s just...” He didn’t know what to say.
“You do realize I’m a physical therapist, right?”
“Yeah,” he reluctantly admitted, knowing exactly where this was going.
“So you hurt your back and you thought canceling dinner with me was your best option?”
“The last thing I wanted you to see is me lying helpless on the floor.”
“Do you think it is a surprise to me that you’re still recovering from your physical injuries and that after being shot multiple times, some of those injuries mean you’ll be dealing with chronic pain and reinjuries for the rest of your life?”
“No.” He sighed, not liking where this was going at all.
“And that given your addiction, you’ll need to learn to manage this pain without addictive painkillers, and that I might be the perfect person to help you do that?”
“You are perfect.” He hoped that brought a smile to her face. No such luck.
She put her hand on his chest. “Do you believe that I care about you?”