Kari:I love you, Luc. Finish your shift and come home to me.
Luc:One hour, Bear.I’ll be home in an hour.
Luc:Andi; if you love somebody, you have to fight for them. Even when they don’t wanna fight anymore. Even when it hurts so much you want to carve your heart from your chest just so you don’t have to feel it anymore. I fought for a long time, but it all paid off in the end. I got my forever girl.
Andi:So I guess I’ll just keep fighting. He’s worth it, I know he is. He has to be.
* * *
Current Day
I siton the end of my bed and scratch Ninja’s ears. Her tail seems better. At least, she doesn’t hiss when I scratch her back. With my cell in my spare hand, I study the screen and think back to Kari’s first day working in my home. The day she broke my heart. The day I found out Andithinksshe loves me.
She doesn’t. Andi has no fucking clue what she’s talking about, so I don’t put stock in what she says to her friends via text. But whether it’s true or not, shebelievesit to be true. So I need to fix it.
I need to get her the fuck out of my house.
Away from her cripple friend.
And back on her side of the country.
She has no future here, no future withme, because half a man doesn’t deserve all of Andi.
I hear her putter around my kitchen. She’s like a puppy; I can kick her in the ribs time and time again, and yet, she’ll keep coming back.
She got up this morning and started cooking again, like my asshole behavior this week is completely forgotten. She brought me a tray of breakfast – an egg white omelet full of tasty onions, peppers, and ham – and promised to be back in here at nine-thirty to help take me to my appointment. She’s cleaned my kitchen, started the dishwasher, thrown a load of laundry into the machine, and had a shower.
I sat on my bed and listened to the water running. She was naked, in my home, singing under her breath, and probably washing her hair. I could imagine her tight body under the soap suds, her full breasts moving as she massaged the shampoo in, her perky ass sitting up tall because of all the time she works out, despite her claims that she doesn’t.
I sat on my bed and touched my dick, and… nothing.
How could I possibly accept her love when I can’t ever make love to her again? How could I expect her to stay once she figures out I’m broken in more ways than just my leg?
I can never pick her up again. I can never fuck her against a wall, or chase her around my house and swing her around when I catch her. I can’t even have a shower with her, wash her hair with my own hands, or show her pleasure with my fingers; it’s dangerous, and showers are slippery. I can’t even lower to my knees and slide my tongue in, because seeing a guy’s missing leg isn’t going to turn a girl on. It’s just not what a girl dreams about when she’s thinking of her prince charming.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, all I had to do was think of her and my dick would strain against my jeans and seep until there was a wet spot in the denim.
Now… I’ve had her naked in my shower and given myself permission to touch my dick, and nothing.
Somewhere, somehow since I was hurt, some wires in my head got crossed and now I can’t even get hard for her.
How could I possibly expect to keep her all for myself, when I’m not even a man?
So I ask her to leave, and when that doesn’t work, I shout at her to leave.
No matter howin loveshe thinks she is, it won’t take her long to falloutagain with the bitter asshole in a wheelchair. It’s just a waiting game at this point, and considering we’re getting uncomfortably close to Christmas, I figure she’ll crack in the next twenty-four hours.
Not even the bravest souls can sit alone on Christmas day when they know they have a welcoming family just across town.
Finally plucking up the courage – because no matter how rotten it tastes to ask for help, I can’t do this on my own – I hit dial on my cell and wait for my chief to answer. I can choose to not go to my prosthetic appointment. But I can’t choose not to have my staples taken out. They’ll probably become infected and finish the job Abel Hayes started a little over a month ago, and considering I intend tofinallyvisit my mom soon, dying from infection right in front of her eyes just isn’t something I can do.
“Rook?” Alex’s voice – wary, but excited at the same time – comes through the line and makes me nervous. “I’m glad you called me. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Are you busy this morning?”
“Ah… I don’t have to be.” I hear doors close, then the sounds of cars in the street. “I have nothing going on that can’t be changed.”
“You on shift right now?”