Chapter 4
495 Words
The wasted muscles in his legs were cramping violently, and even his breathing had gone ragged. His phone lay on the floor just out of reach. He clearly hadn't grasped his own limits yet.
"Adrian, did you hit your head?" I crouched down beside him. "Your back? Any sharp pain?"
"I don't need you interrogating me!" He shoved my hand away.
"Fine. Unless you can get yourself back into bed on your own." I picked up the phone and dialed Dr. Nathaniel Pierce. "Adrian fell out of bed. His right leg is in spasm."
"Don't move him. I'll be right there," the doctor answered at once.
Adrian lay still on the carpet. He couldn't have moved himself no matter how hard he tried, or he wouldn't have ended up on the floor in the first place. I sighed, stepped closer, and crouched in front of him.
"Follow me. Slow your breathing." I worked carefully, propping his lower back and knees with pillows. His muscles hadn't been used in so long that any sudden motion could tear something. "Tell me where the pain is right now."
"From the knee up to my lower back. Feels like it's being ripped apart."
I shifted the pillows and pressed gently along the muscle of his thigh. The crease between his brows began to ease.
"Next time, ring the bell." I set his phone back on the nightstand.
His eyes snapped open. This time he didn't argue. He simply lifted a hand and caught my wrist, and before I understood what was happening, I had been pulled down against him.
"Don't go." His voice was barely above a whisper.
This was nothing like the furious patient who had hurled a bottle at the television that afternoon. I should have pushed him away, but my hands only froze in place. It had been so long since anyone had held me like this. After Julian, my life had been nothing but loan sharks and battered fighters at Ironside. I told myself I didn't care, that once I had the money, I would be free. But at that moment, a wave of exhaustion broke over me, and I finally let my arms close around him.
"I'll stay here until the doctor comes," I said softly.
His breathing slowly evened out. And I realized he wasn't the only one who needed that embrace.
Early the next morning, as the contract required, I appeared outside Adrian's room.
"His muscle atrophy is worse than I'd anticipated," the doctor said, his face drawn with reluctance. "Try to talk him into a full assessment, will you? None of the seventeen before you managed it."
I nodded and stepped inside. Adrian was propped up against the headboard. On the table in front of him sat a blank check.
I looked at him, puzzled.
"Forget everything that happened last night." He flicked the check across the table toward me. "Fill in whatever number you want, and get out of here."
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