“Bend over and touch your toes,” Anthony says.
I glare at him. “I only have one fucking foot,” I snap.
He doesn't get irritated. He doesn't snap back at me. “Unless you have injuries I don't know about, you have five toes on that foot. Reach out, reach down and touch your toes.”
I do as Anthony says, feeling the burn in both hamstrings. As I lean forward, muscles pull at the amputation site but I do my best to school my face to not show that pain.
“Let me guess,” Anthony says, crossing his arms over and staring down at me. “You're refusing pain meds, aren't you?” I narrow my eyes in his direction and he nods, understanding my answer. “Are you taking your anti-inflammatory meds prescribed by your doctor?”
“Yes,” I answer, because the pain meds make me groggy. It does something that impedes my already-impaired brain-to body-demands.
“Lie out on this mat,” he says, pointing at the floor before looking over at Slick and waving her in our direction. “If you're going to be too stubborn to take the pain medicine, I think massage therapy will help ease some of it.”
I grumble as I get off the bench and onto the floor.
“Brynn, I'm going to show you how to massage his muscles. If you could do this tomorrow and Sunday that would be great.”
“No problem,” Slick agrees and I hate how easy it is for Anthony to use her real name. It's not often that any Cerberus members calls each other anything besides the names we were given in the Marine Corps.
I ended up with an uncreative platoon. Aro was simply a shortened version of my last name Aroco. I don't know for sure, but I'm fairly certain Slick got hers for being a military psychologist. Like she has to be slick in order to get Marines to open up to her about their feelings.
Anthony's massage hurts as much as the damn physical therapy did, but with her inches from me, I do my best not to wince and complain for the last ten minutes. I keep my eyes closed for the majority of that time, as my muscles are massaged and manipulated. I focus on the burn because thinking about my next massage, the one at Slick’s fingertips, will create a situation that none of us will be thrilled that popped up.
“That's all for today,” Anthony says, standing and holding his hand down to help me up off the floor. “Take it easy this weekend. I know you're the type of guy that's going to want to go full speed ahead, but you won't heal any quicker if you don't give your body time to recover from what we've been doing.”
I don't know what the outcome of our conversation is going to be once we get back to the house, but at least this time, getting on the elevator and walking to the car in the parking lot, Slick doesn't take off at full speed.
***
I knew Ugly was coming today, but the sight of his motorcycle in the driveway as we've returned to the house from physical therapy doesn't bring the amount of joy that it should. Ugly, Slick, and I all started Cerberus at the same time. I would consider Ugly my closest friend. I wouldn't call him a best friend because forming connections like that isn't something I often do.
I depend on Cerberus as a whole, but bonding deeply with individual people all seems dangerous especially with how hazardous our work is. It also makes me wonder if I hadn't made it out alive in Costa Rica, how my teammates would have responded.
Slick doesn't say anything as she puts the car in park and climbs out. By the time she has the front door unlocked, I’m doing my best to traverse the front step on the porch. Anthony kicked my ass today in physical therapy. I'm feeling it all over my body. The massage he gave possibly made me sorer than I was before.
I started to make it through the front door in time to hear Slick and Ugly greet each other. His smile is wide when he sees me, and I'll give him credit for his eyes not darting to my residual limb.
“I'm going to order lunch,” Slick says. “Any requests?”
Ugly and I let her know we have no preferences.
I push the walker slowly into the living room, hating the exaggerated shove, hop, shove, hop, that is required for mobility. I know this is my new life. I know there is no way to grow a new limb. But I also know that a prosthetic will help ease some of the embarrassment I feel about my injury. I didn't want to see anybody else from Cerberus until I had it.
Ugly waits for me to get closer to him before pulling me into a hug, his bro slap on my back harder than expected. It makes me wonder if he feels that tight bond I do my best to avoid. The second he steps away I sit down on the couch, resisting the urge to pull the throw blanket on the back over my leg. I know there's no sense in trying to hide it. He's fully aware of what happened to me.