Chapter 25 #2
Sure enough, Topher appeared, along with Dawson and Jess, who looked fresh as a daisy. She beamed at him, her ponytail swinging. “I’ll handle things from here. You go to the hotel and sleep, all of you.”
Dawson opened his mouth to say something, but Jess held up a finger.
“Nope. No arguing. None. You are going to go sleep or you’re going to make yourself sick, and Seamus needs to actually elevate his whole leg, not just his foot.” She could really do the mommy pretty good for somebody who was younger than everyone else standing there.
Dawson glanced at him, pure agony in his eyes, and Seamus wrapped an arm around him because there was no one else out there to see it. Not that he would have cared. He didn’t think Dawson really did either, but one never knew.
“His dad’s here, darl. They’ll handle it.
Michael and Dillon are on it, and they say you and Coke will be the first ones they call when they know something about the surgery.
You’re not going to do anybody any good if you don’t get some sleep, and you’re going to have to move on to the next event in a few days. ”
Dawson closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, but when he blinked them open, he tried to find a smile for Seamus. “All right, babe, let’s go. We can curl up together and get some rest, huh?”
“Yes. I don’t care if we all have to curl up in a puppy pile together,” Topher said. “Sleep is important.”
Dawson’s smile grew a little wider. “No offense, Chris, but I don’t want you in the bed with me. You snore.”
“Well, you break your nose enough times, it happens.” Topher was grinning too when he punched Dawson on the shoulder. “Come on, Seamus, do you need help?”
“Nope. I got it. Let’s do it.” He could clump along at the speed of light in a boot. The nice thing about one of those rocker-bottom things was it sort of propelled you forward and kept everything from hurting.
They got to the car, and they started moving. Nobody said anything.
He didn’t figure there was anything to say, and he was going to have to let Dawson drive this whole thing.
His job was to sit and help out however he could and to not have any opinions. He was not qualified to have opinions.
When they got to the hotel, they all sort of went their separate ways, Topher walking them to their door to make sure they got inside fine. Seamus leaned against the door after it closed behind him, staring at Dawson, waiting for him to talk or not, depending.
Dawson scrubbed a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “Jesus fucking Christ. What a goddamn day.”
Seamus waited, hands pressed against the door next to his hips. “No kidding. What can I do? Anything?”
“Jesus, baby, what haven’t you done?” Dawson came to grab his hand and lean in toward the bed so they could sit down. “You’ve been amazing.”
“I’m just trying to help. You guys just needed someone to run some interference.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been winning bullfighter-level interference, baby, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
He kissed Dawson’s temple, then pulled him close, offering him the one thing Dawson couldn’t get anywhere else.
Acceptance.
Simple, loving acceptance.
Dawson wrapped both arms around him and simply leaned a little—not enough to make him lose his balance with his bad foot, but enough to let him know Dawson needed to be held. “I swear to God, baby, that boy is important to me.”
Like they weren’t all important. Still, he got it.
Not to mention that Deuce was the one who was hurt, ergo, he was the one who was important. “I know. I can tell. He’s going to be okay. It may be a bit of a long road, but he’s going to be okay.”
He wasn’t just blowing smoke up Dawson’s ass either. Seamus believed in the power of positive thinking.
“I pray you’re right, but he’s young to have this kind of an injury.”
“Yeah, but he’ll make it through.”
Dawson chuckled. “You know a lot of bull fighters?”
“Now? Shit, yeah, but the simple fact is, I know a ton of stunt guys. A ton. I’ve seen wrecks and fires and wild, unreasonable accidents.” He lost friends, but then, he’d also seen miracles.
“I forget about that. I’m not trying to be an asshole, baby.”
He reached up to stroke Dawson’s cheek. “I know that. You’re never an asshole to me. You’re just worried, tired, and scared.”
“Yeah, I think that scared’s fixin’ to turn into pissed. That arena’s too damn small. It’s not safe, they know it’s not safe, and they’re still going to have an event there tomorrow. And the next day. And the fuckers know that it’s not safe.”
“Can’t you say no?”
Dawson blinked at him. “Not without losing my job.”
“Now, darl, that doesn’t seem right. They can’t make you do something you know is dangerous.” Seamus realized how that sounded, because Dawson’s whole job was a hazard. “I mean like above and beyond what your normal danger level is. And you don’t have the right to say no in your contract?”
“What we do is dangerous.”
He did not snap back.
Maybe in his head.
“Yes. Okay. So what you do is dangerous. I get that. So let me put it another way: If you’re a stuntman and they say, ‘We want you to jump off a building,’ and you say, ‘Okay,’ you can expect reasonable protections to be put in place.
If you find out that you’re jumping into a six-inch crash pad instead of a twelve-inch one.
The stunt double has the right to say no. ”
“Right, but if a stunt double doesn’t go back to work, babe, you don’t get hurt. Not only that, but that stuntman has a union.”
“Right.” Okay. He didn’t like this. He didn’t foresee himself liking it anymore in the future, but this was neither the time nor place to fix it or to hash it out because that wasn’t on him.
Although there was no question his ass was getting Dawson a lawyer. A high-priced, viciously smart guy who would protect the bullfighters.
That he could do.
He also made a mental note to talk to Dillon, as the clown had told him at one point that he was the one who had negotiated the current bull fighter contracts. How “current” was that, he wondered. Was it from when Coke had been working still?
“Come on, darl, I want you to take a shower. I want you to get some sleep. I want you to be well-rested enough that when you do have to go to work tomorrow, you don’t make it worse by being so tired.” He knew Dawes had already washed, but this was more about loosening up some.
Dawson patted his hip. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I know I get up in my head sometimes.”
“You have a right to. This is a shit situation. I’m a bit grumpy, myself, to be perfectly honest.”
“Just a bit.” Dawson’s soft chuckle flowed over him. “Let’s bag up your foot, and you can shower with me.”
“Will do. I’m happy to bag up with you.” Seamus winked at him and levered himself up, held out a hand to Dawson. “Let’s do this thing. We’ll deal with more tomorrow.”
That was the best any of them could do.