Thirty-One
Logan
I was supposed to let him go next week. Rehearsed the plan in my head several times after keeping a close eye on everywhere Hayden went the last few days.
I drugged Blake because I was worried he wouldn’t come willingly, and based on today’s events, I would have been right.
But this . . . this is worse than anything I could have imagined.
He hurt himself again. Worse than the last time.
I did what I had to do, calling the only nurse I know will be less likely to rat me out.
I’ll probably get a lesson and lots of yelling from him but he’ll stay true to our friendship.
I know he will. We’ve all been through too much together for him not to.
I run inside the house, grabbing Vicodin and ice packs.
There are several instances where I forget what I’m supposed to be doing before I finally make it back to the barn.
He’s bleeding from several lacerations, and after I have him chase a pill down with a cup of water, I get him cleaned up the best I can with a warm wet washcloth.
I cover him with a blanket when I’m done.
I pace the barn, rambling to myself with my heart threatening to escape my chest while I wait for Reese to show. I’m so stuck in my own head, that I don’t hear his car pull up. The barn doors rattle and a slew of curse words follow behind it.
“Exactly what the fuck kind of bullshit did you drag me into?”
I look at Blake and his eyes are closed. He’s sleeping again. Darting toward him, I check his pulse before gesturing for Reese to come closer with my fingers.
“What the hell is this, Lo?”
“No names. And you should put a mask on in case he wakes up.”
His brows jump to his hairline and his eyes are wild. “Uh . . . am I not going to get a damn explanation?”
“Honestly . . . I don’t know where to start.”
He takes the spare mask from my hand, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m still standing here and asking this but . . . how about you start from the damn beginning, huh?”
“I fucked up, R. I fucked up bad.”
“I can see that.”
“I wanted to teach him a lesson, and I thought . . . fuck . . .” I shuffle around. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“Doesn’t look like much thinking was done here if you ask me. Did you do this to him?”
“No. He did it to himself. He jumped off the loft. I removed the ladder to make it impossible for him to get down and break a window.”
“Not impossible enough, clearly.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think he was going to do something like this.”
“Alright, alright.” He lifts his hands in the air. “Exactly what do you want me to do about it?”
“You’re a nurse and you work in the ER, so I figured you knew about resetting broken bones.”
“Woah, what? You can’t be serious.” He backs up. “I’m not a doctor. That’s beyond my expertise.”
“Please, R,” I say desperately. “I need you. You know I hardly ask for anything, and you watch doctors do this stuff all the time.”
“This isn’t just anything, asshole.” His voice rises. He looks down at the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can . . . I guess I can see what I can do. But then what?” His eyes hook on mine.
“I . . . I’m going to let him go.”
A muscle in his cheek ticks. “And how the hell are you going to do that? You really think they won’t find out who took him?
What if he leads them back to you? What if .
. .” He shakes his head, shoving on the mask.
“You know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know any more. Let’s just get this over with.”
Blake’s baby blues reach for me as he looks around, shaking his head. “I’m not back in the house. I thought . . . that’s where I go to get better.”
I frown, leaning over his mattress as I crouch lower to the ground. “You can’t go into the house right now.”
“Is your roommate back?”
“They will be tomorrow. You’ll be okay in here. I’ll check on you often.”
His face contorts and he looks down his body, slightly lifting one of his legs. “What is that?”
“It’s the best we could do with what we have. When my roommate is gone, I’ll order you something better, but for now it’ll do the trick.”
He reaches down with a bandaged hand, stroking one of the wooden trimmings. There’s tape keeping both legs aligned so his bones won’t heal crooked. “How am I supposed to get around?”
“I don’t know. I guess you don’t. Not until I can get up here. At least you won’t be taking any more tumbles if you can’t move.”
He does a sweep with his eyes and then keeps them on the ceiling. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“What wasn’t?” I lift his blanket.
Tears roll down his cheeks. “I wasn’t supposed to stay in here.”
“What were you trying to do? Did you really think you’d be able to get down safely without a ladder?”
His eyes shut, pushing out more tears. “I wanted to be back with you and . . . and—”
My chest caves. “You thought if you hurt yourself, I’d bring you back to the room?”
His head slowly bobs, eyes not opening as he says, “I thought it would get me back with you.”
“Oh, piglet.” Why didn’t I see the correlation before? He’d hurt himself and I’d come running. I wanted him to need me, didn’t I? The idea sounded better in my head. Some are meant to stay there. This should have stayed there. “I was going to come back.”
“Yes, but not for days, and you only come back while I’m sleeping. In the house it’s different. In the house, you only leave me when you need to go to the store.”
“I have to go back to work tomorrow. How else am I supposed to afford more brownies and hot chocolate for our nightly reads?”
His eyes hold a bit of sparkle as he opens them. “You . . . you’re going to read to me today?”
“Of course I will. Gotta keep your mind off the pain somehow. I was hoping we’d go for a walk later too, but we can’t do that anymore, can we?”
His head wavers from side to side, his lips tuning down a little. “I messed things up for us again.”
My heart cracks and I brush away the tears from his eyes. “Hey. This is on me again. I should have been here when you woke up. I thought you’d be safe once the heater was moved, but I didn’t consider the other dangers.”
“Will you have dinner with me today?”
“Yeah.” I rub his neck and stroke under his chin. “We’ll have bath time too. It’ll be more of a challenge, but we’ll make it work.”
“Are you still letting me go soon?”
“Not as soon as I’d planned to, but as soon as you’re healed enough to walk on your own, yes.”
“Can you read to me now?”
“Sure.” My lips curve a little in the corners. I made the hole around the mouth bigger so he could see my lips better, and in the hope he’d touch his to mine again. “I have to take care of a few things first, but I’ll grab the book on my way back here.”
“Okay.” His eyes flutter and I card my fingers through his hair.
“You look tired. Take a short nap and I’ll be back before you know it.”
I’m standing all the way up but he grabs my wrist. “You haven’t kissed them better yet.”
“Huh?” I lower my stance again.
“My legs. They can’t get better until you do. Like the splinter in my hand.”
“Ah. Right. The magical touch.” I kiss the gauze on his hand, moving my lips to each of his scratches before reaching his first leg. I press my lips to the right one first and then the left. “There. Should heal faster now.”
The corners of his mouth shake. “Thank you.”
My heart flutters and warmth bursts inside me. “You’re welcome, sweet boy.”
“Piglet,” he corrects. “I think that’s who I want to be when you come back.”
“Then you will be.” What I don’t say out loud is that I’ll also keep seeing him as mine as long as he stays.
And if he keeps doing things to make that last longer, then it must mean that’s what he wants too.
There isn’t much I can do if that’s what he really wants.
What if he hurts himself after I let him go and no one does what I do to help him get better?
Keeping him with me may be better than letting him go after all.
I can be better for him here. I can be what he deserves from here on.