3. Cas
3
Cas
I was humiliated by my bodyguard carrying me up the stairs like I was a blushing bride. Needing a bodyguard at all was a blow, but as I had fully supported Saint having one , I couldn’t say much about that. It wasn’t helping that Rishi was gorgeous and that he planted the mental image of him in full uniform, hauling me around like I weighed nothing. Jesus. If I didn’t do something to collect what remained of my tattered control, I would wind up even more embarrassed than I already was.
“I apologize,” Rishi said. “I didn’t mean to overstep.” He glanced at my bags. “If you like, I can move these for you so that you can put them away when you’re ready.”
“Yes, thank you,” I said and resisted the urge to focus on his ass when he turned and bent to grab the bags.
It only took him a second to put the bags in my bedroom, and then he was back and looking at me expectantly, clearly awaiting orders.
“Coffee?” I asked after I stared around the apartment for a minute, trying to figure out what to do next. “I don’t have milk or anything yet — I’ll have to make a food delivery order.” I frowned then, realizing my tablet was in the side pocket of my chair, which was near the door.
“Would you like me to bring you your wheelchair?” Rishi asked, following my line of sight.
I shook my head, frustrated again at Rishi needing to do things for me like I was a child — or an invalid. I knew he was only trying to do his job, but it was galling nonetheless. “I was just thinking that I need my tablet,” I said, gesturing to the side of the chair.
“Certainly, Cas.” Rishi brought me the tablet and handed it to me with a little bow of his head.
“Thank you,” I said. “Wanna sit down?” I jerked my head toward the sofa. “I’m going to make a food order now while I’m thinking of it. Is there anything you want me to order for you?”
Rishi shook his head, still standing. “I’ll take care of all of that on my own. The company pays for my groceries,” he said. “I am staying here with you, correct?”
Was he staying with me? I hadn’t thought that far ahead, but I suppose it made sense. Rio had stayed with Saint. “Oh. Do you have your bags with you?”
“They are in my car. I checked out of the hotel this morning.”
“Oh,” I said again, beginning to feel like a broken record. “Do you want to bring them up?” I glanced around. “I have an air mattress. I don’t get a lot of visitors, and I only have one bedroom.”
“That will be perfectly fine,” Rishi said. “I’ll go get them now. Are there designated parking spots?”
I shook my head. “No, but I should register your car with the rental office so they don’t tow it if it’s here for too long. Do you have the plate?”
“I’ll get it when I get the bags. I’ll be right back.” Rishi nodded smartly, about-faced, and went back outside.
An hour later, my grocery order was made, Rishi’s car was now registered as an authorized vehicle with the office, and I had to pee.
Two of those three things made me happy. That last one, not so much.
With my blessing, Rishi had put away the things that would now live in my bathroom, like a urinal jug. The theory was that the jug would live next to me so that I could use it instead of hauling myself to the bathroom when it was difficult to do so, but that would mean someone else emptying it for me, and I hadn’t quite made peace with that.
I was still in my easy chair, and with a private sigh, I asked Rishi to spot me as I transferred to the wheelchair. I was getting reasonably good at it, and the fact that my left leg was uninjured and functional meant that I could still stand, but I couldn’t keep my balance yet, and the doctors were very clear that if I fell and traumatized the amputation area before it was fully healed, I was risking severe tissue damage or even a bone infection that could cost me more of my leg.
I wheeled myself to the bathroom, but I couldn’t get through the door on my own. My chair fit through the narrow frame, but my hands on the push rims would not. I sighed again, dropping my head to my chest before looking back toward Rishi. “I think I need a little help.”
Rishi had been ignoring me, and I had to say that I appreciated how much privacy he was trying to give me. “Of course, allow me,” he said and pushed the chair through the doorway, which immediately revealed another problem.
My bathroom had a walk-in shower, a toilet, a sink, and a towel rack. Once I was in the room in my chair, I couldn’t turn it or close the door. I had never considered it would be an issue, and my heart sank as all the implications hit me at once. I slapped the arms of my chair in frustration.
Rishi cleared his throat from behind me. “Do you need anything else?” he asked quietly. “If not, I will go get a drink while I wait for you to finish up.”
My face burned as I considered what Rishi was doing, and I nodded, both grateful and humiliated all at once.
The urinal bottle was within reach, which I could reach, use, and empty myself. “Rishi?” I called.
“Yes?” Rishi responded, his voice coming from the kitchen, which was as far away from the bathroom as he could get in this little space.
I sighed. “Could you please help me out of here?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, and he tapped the door casing of the bathroom before he took the handles of my wheelchair to pull me out of the room.
“Thank you,” I said when he let go as soon as I was clear and could turn myself.
“You’re welcome,” Rishi said, ducking his head politely.
By bedtime, I had been forced to allow Rishi to help more than a few times and had come to several very uncomfortable realizations that all boiled down to one thing.
I would not be able to stay in my apartment. Even with the improved mobility that would come with crutches, time, and a prosthesis, my apartment wasn’t practical for my new reality. I didn’t even have a timeline for when I could use a wheelchair less often.
I could tell that Rishi knew it, too, but he was polite enough not to say anything and to help me with workarounds for the moment. He made sure I was comfortably in bed, and once he was out and settled in the living room for the night, I picked up my phone. I needed to figure out where I was going to live.
***
After a frustrating night of research, I talked to my captain the next morning, who put me in contact with a foundation for injured first responders. I learned that they had a fund and contacts to assist with housing for those who were either unable to stay in their homes or lost them due to their injuries.
A week after my release from the hospital — a week full of swallowing my pride and fighting through embarrassment, and a week of growing, though grudging, admiration for the man who had agreed to protect me from a gangster and not playing nurse but who devoted himself to the job with aplomb — I signed a lease for a ground floor apartment in a building with built-in accommodations. The deposit came from the foundation, which chafed a little. I had savings, and I could have managed it on my own, but it would have almost wiped me out since my rent and bills had been coming from my savings since I was hurt.
I had become a cop on my own, found my apartment on my own, and lived on my own since I was eighteen. I put myself through a law enforcement degree at UC Riverside and then training at the Orange County Sheriff's Regional Training Academy. I found the job at LAPD, and I had been there for eleven years. I was in line for a promotion.
Now, I was accepting help to get an apartment that would accommodate my wheelchair. Sometimes, the resentment was hard to fight.
Rishi was standing behind my chair as I signed the papers, and when I pushed back to leave, he smiled at me with his whole face, his dark eyes warm and crinkling at the corners. My mouth fell open as the force of his beauty struck me full in the gut, and the next moment, humiliation surged. I had been fighting not to notice my attraction to him, but I guess my guard was down. Rishi had helped me clean up after I had fumbled my urinal three days ago, and he was probably just happy that this bathroom had grab bars and that he wouldn’t have to help me transfer onto the toilet. “Let’s go,” I said, voice gruff, and I didn’t look back as I wheeled myself from the building.