Chapter 5 #2
I'd heard that before. Some of those who were injured came for physiotherapy after they battled their addiction, some during, and some, the lucky ones, before.
"I can have a look at that for you," I offered, my voice a mix of concern and professional curiosity.
Clay raised an eyebrow. "Say what?"
"I'm studying to be a physiotherapist," I told him, raising both my hands up. "I promise, I won't do any damage."
"Cajun went to one, remember?" Eddie said. "When he had that leg thing? He said it helped."
Some of my patients were skeptical about the benefits of physiotherapy.
They expected drugs or surgery to make the difference, not just physical therapy, especially men like Clay, who were used to relying on their strength and resilience to do their jobs.
But I knew that pain had a way of humbling even the strongest of us.
"You think you can help me, doc?"
"I'm not a doctor. But I've learned a thing or two about shoulder injuries," I reassured him with a small smile. "Physiotherapy can do wonders without the need for medication. It's all about strengthening the muscles around the injury to support and heal."
Clay nodded, a hint of curiosity breaking through his initial skepticism. "Alright, Isha. Show me what you can do," he challenged.
I rubbed my hands together.
"First things first. Take your shirt off."
Eddie and Huey whistled.
"Pants, too?" Clay asked suggestively but in good humor.
I rolled my eyes.
During that first session, I guided Clay through a series of gentle, targeted exercises designed to increase mobility and reduce pain in his shoulder.
We started with some basic stretches to warm up the muscles around his rotator cuff, careful to not exacerbate his injury.
"How does that feel?" I asked during one stretch.
"Good. Ah…really good."
I talked through every step with him.
"Many people just move in the wrong way all the time, which causes injuries. So, let's work on some of the things you do, like getting up on a horse or…I don't know. What do you do around the ranch?" I asked.
Eddie, Huey, and Clay laughed.
"Girlie, you're somethin' else," Eddie said.
Once I understood how he used his body in the ranch, I gave him tips on how to manage his shoulder so he could do his job without hurting himself further.
"Now, let's do some exercises that will strengthen your muscles without overloading them."
As we progressed, I monitored his expressions closely, gauging his comfort level and adjusting the exercises accordingly to ensure they were effective but not overwhelming.
Through it all, Clay remained a willing, albeit cautious, participant, his initial skepticism slowly giving way to a cautious optimism as he saw physiotherapy not just as a series of exercises, but as a pathway to healing.
"Fuck me, my shoulder actually feels better than it has in months," Clay said as he moved his head from side to side and lifted his shoulder.
"Careful, okay," I warned. "Now, I'm just going to massage the area." I looked around the bunkhouse and walked up to the kitchen area. I found a bottle of olive oil and brought it back to the table.
"You cookin' something now, Isha?" Huey wanted to know.
"Just need some oil to massage."
"I need a massage, too," Huey immediately said. "I can take my shirt off anytime you want."
Eddie gave out a hoot of laughter.
"Keep your pants on, Huey," Clay muttered. "I, here, have an injury."
"I can go get hurt," Huey offered.
The ribbing didn't feel uncomfortable. My danger alarms were not going off. This was how they made someone feel like one of them, I realized.
"Afraid I'm not interested." I poured some oil into my right palm and heated it between my hands. I placed my hands on Clay's shoulder, and he groaned when I kneaded.
"Oh God, can you come do that every day for me?"
"If I'm here, I can do this if you do all your exercises," I cajoled.
I was gently breaking the knots on his shoulder when Rowan walked into the bunkhouse.
"What the fuck is goin' on here?" he demanded, staring at Clay's state of undress and my hands on him.
I wanted to run because of the fire in his eyes, but I held my ground.
"So, remember what we talked about when you pick up something?" I pressed harder, and Clay winced.
"Right there, that's what you want to avoid."
Huey and Eddie walked out of the bunkhouse while Clay seemed unperturbed by his boss's anger.
"Isha, here is doing some physical therapy on my shoulder, boss."
"Is she now?" Rowan stalked up to us.
I finished the massage quickly, and wiped my hands on a paper napkin that was on the table.
"Not as good as new but if you keep doing the exercises, in a couple of weeks you should start feeling better."
Clay rose and put on his shirt. He grinned. "I could do that without it hurtin', Isha. You're a miracle worker, woman." He took both hands in his kissed my knuckles.
"Clay?" Rowan warned.
"What? She has magic hands, boss."
"She offer to massage other parts of your body, too? I know how much you get paid, Clay, I don't think you can afford her," Rowan threw back.
Everything inside me froze.
"Boss, you saying that is not alright," Clay shot right back. He turned to look at me. "Isha, thanks for your help. I think you're going to make a great physiotherapist."
I nodded, feeling shaky, as I walked past Rowan. I couldn't believe he'd said what he had. I was helping someone, and he'd called me a whore. I had to get out of here. I had to get home where I was safe.
It had been a long time since I'd felt unsafe in my surroundings, not since I'd aged out of the homes and found my own place with Yasmine.
I dialed Yasmine with shaky hands as I walked up to the ranch house. "If I need money, will you help me?"
"Come on, babe, you don't even have to ask," she said with a yawn. "What happened?"
"These people are not very nice. None of them. I…need to come home before something bad happens."
"You do what you need to. Don't worry about money. I got some saved up."
She and Derek were saving to be able to move to New York in a year.
"I'll pay you back," I vowed.
"Hey, between us, babe, there's no accounting. We help each other. Now, book your ticket and get your fine arse back home."