10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Kat
Henry was back in only a couple of minutes. And he had a big, purple, fuzzy blanket. That made me happy. I knew it was ridiculous to ASK for a fuzzy blankie, but it was what I had wanted. He looked so damn anxious. I didn’t like that I’d caused that.
He stepped forward to hug me, and I stepped back. He hung his head and retreated, but I’d only been trying to be careful of my arm. Moving while not having it in the cast was making my brain itch.
“No, I’m sorry, I just am terrified I’ll fuck up the pins and rods in my wrist without the cast on.
That’s all. I’d actually love a hug,” I admitted, tears spilling over again.
And even in the messy, overwhelmed state that I was in, I couldn’t help but notice…
him. He was in some sort of athletic material joggers and a tight long-sleeved team t-shirt.
Leave it to me to be drooling over this fucking man when I should be focusing on my fucking hand.
The second the word hug was out of my mouth, he’d stepped in and pulled me to his chest, very carefully avoiding my right arm. He was shaking, just a little bit. I thought. It might’ve been me, but I thought maybe it was both of us. But his hand was in my hair and he wasn’t letting me go.
“You scared me, Kat,” he said quietly. I didn’t mean to…
“You ran and then all I heard was you begging them for help in a voice I’d never heard from you but then you…” he trailed off. I’d ignored him. I just didn’t think he’d care that much. I’d fixed it once I realized…
“I’m sorry. I was freaking out,” I said quietly into his chest.
“I know. I just wanted to help,” he whispered, like that was some big secret. He always wanted to help. It would be wonderful if I wasn’t trying to get him to stop helping me. He was just too damn sweet for his own good. I pulled back, knowing this needed to happen before the doctor came back.
“So, my wrist and hand look pretty gross. And it looks way worse than it is. But they need to reopen the stitches and clean it. And it’s going to hurt really bad,” I said, getting more and more quiet as a few more tears slipped free. I was a fucking mess.
“I don’t care if it looks gross, Kat. You should know better than that.
But why are they not putting you under anesthesia for this, then?
Isn’t it basically surgery? They’ll at least give you pain meds, yeah?
” he asked, sounding very concerned. Fuck.
Those weren’t even the things I thought I would be confessing to him tonight.
I looked down, scuffing my toe on the linoleum floor.
“I… didn’t come out of anesthesia well at the hospital,” I said, so quietly he leaned in. He waited, though. I knew he’d asked more questions than that.
“So, I asked if I could… not do that. They said yes, but lidocaine isn’t really a good idea in these situations I guess.
And… I don’t want pain meds again…” I trailed off, knowing I was mumbling like a fucking idiot.
This was difficult. More than I’d thought it would be.
But I still thought it would be worth it, possibly.
Probably. He stepped all the way up to me again, taking my face in both of his hands.
“Kat. I get not wanting to go under again. I REALLY get it. But the pain meds. Baby girl you need them,” he insisted. I shook my head, despite it still being in his hands. He sighed. He sounded just like the doctor.
“Will you at least take it if it’s worse than you think it’s going to be?” he asked softly. I hesitated, but nodded.
“Good girl. Okay. Now show me your hand. You seem awfully nervous about me seeing it. But I’m not just going to run away because your hand is fucked up, Kat.
I’m just worried about you,” he said softly.
I carefully pulled back the sleeve of his hoodie, showing him what could only be called Frankenstein’s hand.
I knew it would get better; it wouldn’t look like this forever.
But it would never look… great. I’d never be a hand model, that was for damn sure.
“Okay, Kat. Yes, that’s pretty bad. Which I think just means we need to get it cleaned up quickly, yeah?
” he asked softly. I nodded. And waited.
For what I knew was coming. Because I saw a tear fall down his cheek.
And I knew he was upset he hadn’t known.
Upset he hadn’t stopped it. And I couldn’t tell him he couldn’t have stopped it. Because I’D done it.
“Will you tell me what happened?” he asked.
I was surprised he was asking. Actually, no I wasn’t.
He really never demanded anything of me.
Ever. He always asked. Gave me the choice.
Gave me space. Well, I didn’t want space right now, even if I also didn’t want to tell him what really happened to my wrist.
“I was in those cuffs for a long time. And I was drugged that entire week. And I had a lot of nightmares, a lot of dreams, and a couple relived memories. From that year. I had been meaning to tell you about them, I just… hadn’t really known how.
But this happened from the cuffs,” I said quietly, avoiding eye contact.
I hadn’t lied. Again, I hadn’t lied. Every word was true. And he nodded. Accepted my story.
“Okay, baby. Let’s get you patched up,” he said. He waited for my nod before heading to the door and calling for the doctor. That went a lot easier than I’d thought it would. I had a feeling I really looked fragile right now. That was why he hadn’t pushed. I’d take it.
Before the doctor got back, Henry turned around and just lifted me up onto the hospital bed.
Didn’t ask. Just manhandled me. Fine, mister.
I had needed help anyway. In all honesty, he probably knew that.
He was far from stupid. I was closer to his height this way, but he was still taller.
He stepped right up to my knees, taking my face in his hand again.
“Kat, you look terrified. Are you sure you don’t want the pain meds?
I’ll take care of you, you’ll be safe even if you don’t remember what happens,” he said softly.
I shook my head. Like hell I wanted to have ANOTHER night where I was loopy around him, that I wouldn’t remember.
Who fucking knew what my big fat mouth would say to him. No, thank you.
“Do…” he started, trailing off and looking very unsure.
“Do you want me to hold you? You can’t exactly squeeze my hand,” he offered, smiling softly at the last part. He wasn’t wrong. I had a plaster cast on the other wrist. I didn’t overthink it. Because yes. Yes, I wanted that. So, I nodded. Quickly. He let out a quiet laugh.
“Okay, love, we can do that.”
He kept calling me that. And I knew I should stop him. But I also knew it was a very British thing, and didn’t mean anything. So, that was fine. I guessed. It certainly wasn’t very high on my list of worries right now, that was for sure.
He was settled back against the slant of the bed, one leg still hanging off the edge, the other bent up next to him. He’d made a little pocket for me to sit in, which I already knew would help my hip on this stiff bed. Jesus he was… making this hard. So, fucking hard.
He was waiting for me, watching me. I knew he would move me himself the second I gave the word.
I looked up at him, knowing I looked scared.
I couldn’t help it, though. And fuck if I didn’t want to just let him take care of me, handle everything for me tonight.
I was so tired. And my hand ALREADY hurt like a bitch from that tea. This was going to fucking SUCK.
He moved me into his lap, being careful of my hand, but also my other injuries.
I was sitting far enough back that I could just barely wiggle my toes over the edge of the bed, which I did.
I heard him laugh. My side was pressed to his chest, with both of his arms meeting at my side, under the troublemaker arm.
Leaving the guest of honor free for the doctor to manhandle and mangle to his heart’s content.
“Okay, Ms. Brooks, it’s time. We’ll get an IV in now, get the antibiotics going, and that way we have it ready if you decide you want the hydromorphone, okay?
This is going to take me about three hours, I’m sorry to say.
But it’s too small of a surface for anyone else to help me make it quicker,” he admitted, sounding very sorry and very doubtful of my life choices.
He looked at my other arm in the sling, then back to the arm in question. Fucking now what, man?
“We can’t put the IV in the arm I’ll be working on.
So, we need the other one free. But we can put it in your forearm, then put you back in the sling, alright?
” he asked gently. Sure, fine, whatever, let’s just get this over with.
I nodded. That only took half a second, made even quicker with Henry’s help on the sling. Having help was really nice.
The second the antibiotics hit, I shivered.
They were just always so fucking COLD. Henry pulled the blanket from the head of the bed, wrapping it around us both, being careful of the IV and my right arm.
I put my arm where the doctor wanted it on his little tray of terror, under the light like it was the star of the show, and I just turned away.
I buried my face in Henry’s chest, because I didn’t want to see this. I didn’t want to see any of this.
The doctor was talking, telling me what he was doing, but I just drowned him out.
I felt him snipping the stitches, every, single, one of them, all eighty-two.
Then I felt him tugging each and every one out, and that already sucked.
Not bad, but it did. I just breathed Henry in, glad he was holding me tight. And not commenting on my trembling.
But the second the doctor pulled on the rough edges, I muffled a scream in Henry’s chest. One of his hands slipped into my hair, and I didn’t pull my hand out of the doctor’s grip.
I was proud of myself for that. I glanced up through my uncontrollable tears to see him watching what the doctor was doing.
I knew it wasn’t out of some sick fascination; he was watching to make sure he’d be ready when I’d be hurting. I knew that with all my heart.
I was really shaking now. And sobbing. But I was determined. I could do this. I could. I knew I could. But then the first touch of betadine hit that tender flesh that had never been meant to see the outside world, and I screamed again.
“Stop, please stop, just for a second,” I panted. I was getting dizzy. I felt sweaty and cold all over, and I had a very certain feeling I’d be out in less than a second. But a warm hand found my face, and then I was looking into very concerned baby blue eyes.
“Breathe, Kat. Slow. Slow. There we go, Kat. There we go. Okay, you’re okay,” he murmured. My breathing slowed down, and I stopped feeling like I was going to pass out. I turned back to the doctor.
“Kat, I’m going to be completely honest with you right now.
That was nothing compared to what I need to do.
I’m not calling it nothing, it’s my professional opinion that you’re nuts going into this without anything at all.
But this is going to take more like six hours if we need to go this slowly,” he said honestly.
Despite poking at my flippy flappy, I liked him. I looked at Henry.
“Baby girl, you need the pain meds. But I’ve got you. I promise, okay?” he insisted, begging slightly. I knew it wasn’t that he didn’t want to sit here twice as long. I honestly didn’t think he could handle ME being in pain that long. Well, same buddy. Same.
“I’m afraid I won’t remember anything again,” I confessed. He kissed the tip of my nose.
“I get that. I do. But you were just a little loopy last time. That’s all.
It was honestly pretty bloody cute,” he admitted, flushing slightly.
I smiled a little, even through my tears.
But I was so afraid of what I’d say to him.
What I’d try to DO to him on those pain meds.
Obviously not with the doctor here, but he’d leave eventually. And I’d still be high as a kite.
“Okay. But if I say anything stupid, it’s not my fault. Just ignore me,” I said firmly. He laughed.
“I will do no such thing. I will never ignore you. And it’s not possible for you to say anything stupid, so it’s all good,” he said back, smirking at me a little. Ah, great.
“Promise you won’t leave me?” I asked, my lower lip trembling. He kissed me on the forehead and made sure I was looking him in the eye.
“I promise, Kat. I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he swore. Well, then I guessed I had nothing left stopping me. Fine. Whatever. I turned back to the doctor.
“Okay. I don’t want this to take forever and I don’t particularly want to be in excruciating pain for hours, believe it or not,” I said to the doctor. He nodded.
“So, what kind of good stuff do you have, doc?”