Chapter Three
“I guess I have to go grocery shopping again ,” I say.
“Have fun!” Lane says like he doesn’t realize what I’m hinting at.
“Hmm, guess what? You get to have fun with me,” I say as I grab his wheelchair.
“No, I’m not,” he says as he grabs the wheel with his good hand and holds it still. I yank at it in the plan of dragging him across the living room floor, but instead, he just sits there with a grin as I tug with all my might.
“Yes, you are,” I say through gritted teeth. “You’ll just lock me out again if I don’t.”
He tries elbowing me with the other arm as I lean out of his path. “No, I won’t. You have a purpose now.”
“To be your fuck toy?” I ask like I’m in shock.
“You said it, not me,” he says.
“Come on,” I snap.
I grab his hand and force it onto his lap, but he’s too strong for me. I yank my belt off, wrap it around his unhurt hand and use a nice pulley method to drag his hand up onto his lap. Quickly, I roll him through the room and nearly unseat him when I hit the doorframe.
“What the hell!” he yells in alarm as he grabs for the armrests. “You nearly killed me!”
“Nah, you’re fine,” I say even though I had hit the doorframe so hard he probably has whiplash.
“I hope you never have children. It’ll be survival of the fittest in your house.”
This time I ease him through the door before heading toward the car waiting in the driveway.
“That’s why I’m going to learn from all of the mistakes I make with you,” I say. I yank the car door open and grab him around the waist. I can’t get him to even budge from the wheelchair. “Don’t you want to go out?”
“No,” he says bluntly.
“Have you gone out since the accident?” I ask.
“I have no desire to.”
He’s like a stubborn child that you can’t reason with.
I feel bad for him though. I know he doesn’t want to go out because the house has now turned into a “safe” area for him. A place where he can pretend everything is how it used to be.
“It’ll be good for you,” I say as I try to hoist him up again, but he just casually sits there with a jiggle to his leg, knowing there is no way I can pick him up.
He lounges back in the chair as I stare at him. Then he pulls his arm free before sliding it down to the wheel. He gives it one solid jerk, and suddenly he’s headed back to the house.
“Wait! I’ll take away my MP3 player!” I yell at him.
He hesitates for just a moment, before continuing toward the direction of the house, although he isn’t heading to the door but instead the bushes. “That’s alright.”
“You won’t get any more sexual ‘favors’ from me,” I snap.
He slows to a stop and sits there, so I run up. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”
“Of course you will,” I say as I wheel him back to the car.
He helps me get him into the passenger seat, and after he’s seated, I close the door.
My car is old and boxy, with a trunk big enough to hold five bodies, so the wheelchair easily fits in it.
After I slam the trunk shut, wheelchair tucked inside, I get in the car and start it.
The music jumps to life, making Lane jerk back in surprise.
“Jesus Christ!” he shouts.
“Where?” I ask as I turn the volume down. “Wait a minute…I thought you were blind. How’d you see him?”
“No, I’m now deaf. What were you listening to?”
“Something super cool and sexy, I’m sure,” I say as I back the car down the driveway. “Like if you heard me singing, you’d probably just jizz in your pants.”
“Hm…you’re awfully confident.”
He seems nervous, though, since he keeps tapping his foot impatiently and leans against the door as I drive. I glance over at him and wonder if it is wrong of me to pressure him into going since he is clearly uncomfortable about the whole thing.
“So…what kind of music do you like to listen to?” I ask.
“Not whatever this is. I don’t know what’s worse. The sound of this music or the sound of your car dying.”
“I noticed a nice little sports car sitting in your driveway. Would you rather listen to it instead?” I ask.
“You’re not even allowed to look at that car.”
“I already did.” I look over at him as I stop at a red light. “I’ll just start driving it around, you won’t even notice.”
“And when the big black and white car with the shiny lights begins to follow you, make sure you don’t crash it,” he says.
I laugh. “No, that’s alright. I love my car.”
“How old is this thing?”
“Dunno, but the wheels are made from stone. I bet that’s what you’re hearing,” I say, and he smiles.
I’m glad to see the look on his face because I want him to realize leaving the house isn’t that bad.
I can’t blame him for feeling like this though.
I can’t imagine losing something as life-changing as your eyesight.
Everything would be so different…so much harder.
I would never get to see new people I meet; everything would just become words.
Movies would just be audio. A life suddenly drenched in darkness.
“How far away is this place?” Lane asks.
“We’re here,” I say as I pull into the parking lot.
I park the car and get out before going over to his side so I can set up the wheelchair. With a lot of help from Lane, I get him out of the car and into the wheelchair. I wheel him inside and look at the carts, unsure of what I should do.
“Well?” Lane asks. Since we haven’t moved in a bit, he probably thinks I’ve just pushed him into the store and made a run for the exit.
“‘Well’ is right. How am I supposed to wheel you and a grocery cart at the same time?”
“Such a conundrum,” he says. “I think we need to go home.”
“Nah, I love figuring things out.” I grab a basket and shove it into his hands before wheeling him over to the milk. I grab a gallon and put it in the basket. It seems to fill up half the basket as I question if I could get Lane to push a cart while I push him.
“Why am I holding this?” Lane asks.
“Because I’d already bought all of this the other day, but somehow it’s all spoiled now,” I say as I toss some cheese into the basket.
The basket doesn’t take long to fill as I toss lunchmeat and pickles inside. “Do you like healthy stuff?” I ask. “What about salad?”
“Are you making it?”
“Yes.”
“Then no.”
I set a bag of lettuce on his head, which he grabs, but not before I jab his cheek with a cucumber. “You’re used to this now, aren’t ya?” I ask as I poke him with it.
He snatches it from my hand and holds it up. “Nah, mine’s nicer than this. Unless you’re talking about yours, then you’ll need to grab one of those pickling cucumbers.”
I laugh and start just dropping items onto his lap. “Funny.”
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks as I set some donuts on top.
“Basket is full.”
“I can tell, it’s cutting the blood flow to my wounded leg.”
“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?”
“You’re not a real good babysitter,” Lane says. “Actually, you’re really abusive. How much are you getting paid?”
“Nowhere near enough,” I assure him as I head for the meats. My attention is drawn to a display shelf overflowing with bestsellers. “Ooh! I’ve been dying to get this book!”
I turn Lane quickly, causing the wheelchair to ram into a shelving unit. Lane is jerked forward, and a package of sliced cheese tumbles off.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Sorry! It’s heavy with all this stuff in it.”
A woman very rudely glares at me as she walks past. Like she thought I was doing a poor job of caring for the wounded.
“Ooh, that lady just glared at me,” I say.
“I’d give anything to be able to do that to you as well,” he says as he tries to right all the products he is trying to hold.
“Can’t imagine why.”
***
I yawn as I stretch out on the couch. “Lane?”
“Hm?”
“I’m bored.”
“Great, want to play checkers?” he asks as he turns his head in my direction. He had been lounging on the couch, listening to the audiobook, before I interrupted him. Sunglasses firmly in place even though I’ve told him to leave them off.
“Really?” I ask eagerly. “I suck at checkers.”
“You suck at everything else in life, why would I think that would be any different?” he asks, and I snort.
“Tell me a secret, Lane, were you abandoned as a child?” I ask curiously. “Is that where your hate originates from?”
“I have a game we can play. Go get me some duct tape,” he suggests as he pulls an earbud out and twirls it around by its cord.
“For what?” I ask as if I’m really interested.
He smiles at me, but the look is suspicious. “It’ll be really fun, just come here, and I’ll show you.”
“Alright, where’s it at?” I ask eagerly like I can’t think of a million things I would rather do.
He waves his hand at me like I’m a stray cat he would like to shoo off. “I don’t know, find it yourself.”
“Why don’t you know where anything is in this house?”
“Because I moved here not that long ago.”
“Oh. Alright, duct tape, right? Are we going for a little S and M bondage style?”
“Was the plan.”
“Ooh, you had me at S.” I jump up and walk into the kitchen. I pull open the fridge and grab two string cheese sticks before heading back into the living room. “Want a cheese stick?” I ask as I smack him in the face with it. He quickly snatches it from my hands before I can even pull back.
“Do it again, and I might ram my ‘stick’ up your ass.”
“I might like it,” I purr.
“Where’s the duct tape?” he asks as he fumbles with the wrapper. I watch in amusement instead of wasting energy helping him.
“Changed my mind.” I pull a piece of my cheese off and drop it in my mouth as I watch him struggle with the wrapper.
“Why didn’t you take the wrapper off?” he asks.
“I’m trying to make you grow as a man,” I say as I pull another piece of the cheese off and dangle it above my mouth before lowering it in.
“There’s only one way to make me grow anymore,” he says.
I snort. “For fifty bucks you can show me.”
“Get over here and unwrap my cheese.”
“Ooh, is that what we’re calling it now?” I purr.
He holds the cheese stick out to me, so I grudgingly take it. “I don’t know, but in my last job I got to fuck prettier boys than you.”