Bound and Determined (46 page)

worry about that later. “I'm leaving now. I'll be there in a few minutes. Tell him

I'm on my way.” Owen dropped the phone on a table and checked his pocket

for his keys as he went out the front door.

Reacting quickly in an emergency was something he'd always been able to

do; there just wasn't space or time to panic usually, and he never did because

it wasn't remotely helpful. The thought of Sterling screaming for him didn't

change that; if anything, it put him in a state of mind where everything seemed

incredibly simple and easy. He was in his car, he was driving, and at the end of

the journey was Sterling, who needed him. So he had to drive quickly, but not

recklessly, because an accident would slow him down and so would a ticket,

and he had to
not
think about Sterling much, because it made the orderly

thoughts marching through his brain, telling him where to turn, when to

change lanes, when to overtake a stupid, fucking car just crawling along,

dissolve into a chaotic mess of anguish and anger.

Simple.

It was a little disconcerting to slam the car door behind him in the parking

lot of the hospital and discover that he had only the vaguest recollections of the

drive over.

Alex was waiting just inside the ER doors, his face screwed up with a

mixture of relief and apprehension. “Owen! Thank God you got here.”

“Where is he?” Owen said, brushing aside Alex's attempts to explain what

had happened in a hushed, frantic tumble of words. “Never mind all that.

Where is Sterling?”

“This way,” Alex said and led him down the hallway to a room that had

walls but no door, only a curtain. Owen pushed it out of his way impatiently,

and
there
was Sterling, finally, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and his

sneakers unlaced on his otherwise bare feet. The fact that he wasn't wearing a

shirt made his dislocation easy to see—his shoulder was misshapen, his arm

where he cradled it to his chest awkwardly out of alignment.

Sterling's face was pale and tear-streaked, but he wasn't screaming

anymore at least. As Owen moved toward him, he was aware that the doctor

and nurse standing near the wall most definitely
not
helping Sterling were

saying something to him, but he couldn't listen to them.

And then Sterling's eyes met his, and Owen could see the rush of relief in

the way Sterling's face relaxed, just a little bit. “You're here,” Sterling said in a

voice that was almost gone.

Owen nodded, not trusting himself to speak right then. He went to

Sterling and cupped his cheek, the skin damp and cool. Sterling's gaze was

fixed on his face, blue eyes clouded with pain, imploring. “Let them take care of

you,” Owen said, phrasing it as an order, not a request. “I'll be right here, and

when they've finished, we'll go home.”

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197

He turned his head and found the doctor, a gray-haired man with the

bushiest eyebrows Owen had ever seen, staring at him, frowning. If it was

supposed to be intimidating, it didn't work. “Has he been x-rayed? Examined?

Given something for the pain?” Owen asked, raising his eyebrows inquiringly,

his voice, to his own ears, clipped and cold.

“We just managed to give him something for the pain a few minutes ago,

but that's all we've been able to do so far. He didn't want us to touch him, and

we didn't want to restrain him until he'd relaxed a little bit—there's too much

risk of nerve damage.” The doctor seemed apologetic, but when he put it like

that, Owen could understand why they'd waited. “If you think you can get him

to lie still long enough, we'll give him a muscle relaxant. Then when he's more

comfortable, we'll take some X-rays to make sure we know what we're dealing

with, though based on how the injury happened, I think things should be fairly

straightforward for now.”

Owen looked at Alex, who seemed a little less apprehensive now that

Owen was here. Or maybe it was just that Sterling had stopped screaming.

Seeming to understand what Owen wasn't asking, Alex said, “I told them

the truth. I wouldn't risk his health, not even to protect myself.” That let Owen

know that Alex had told them the injury was his fault, probably leaving Kirk

out of the equation entirely. It didn't matter. Owen would deal with Kirk later.

“Sterling?” Owen watched Sterling's face for a sign that he'd been

listening, and Sterling nodded very slightly. “They're going to give you another

shot now to help relax you. I want you to lie still and let them do what they

need to do.”

Sterling nodded again, just a tiny bob of his head. His lips were reddened

and dry, probably from biting them, Owen thought as he put a hand around

the back of Sterling's neck to reassure him. Sterling whimpered when Owen

had to stand up and shift toward the head of the gurney while the doctor gave

him an injection.

“This should kick in fairly quickly,” a nurse said. “Try to keep him calm

and once he's less tense, we'll try to reduce the dislocation.”

“Owen?” God, Sterling sounded terrible as Owen pulled a chair over to sit

beside him. He took Sterling's good hand in both of his own, cradling it

carefully.

“Sterling, I need you to focus,” Owen said. It was something he was having

trouble doing himself; his thoughts were jumping from pointless speculation

about what else Kirk had done to Sterling to inconsequential details, like the

small shaving cut under Sterling's chin, the tiny slash of red stark against pale

skin. Anything beyond the present moment just didn't seem to matter, though

he knew that he would have some damage control to do later. Alex wasn't going

to bear the brunt of this. It helped that the ER staff were virtually unshockable

and used to dealing with the most bizarre accidents; a dislocated shoulder

following a bondage scene was relatively mundane in their world. “Focus on

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Jane Davitt & Alexa Snow

me, not the pain. It's not important. It's going away. Let yourself relax and let

these people do their job.”

“Hurts,” Sterling said.

“That's entirely to be expected with a dislocated shoulder.” Owen allowed

some asperity to show even as he gave Sterling's hand a gentle squeeze. “I'd be

astonished if it
didn't
hurt, but I'd like it to hurt just a little less, which it will

do as soon as you relax.
Are
you relaxed?”

Sterling took a deep, shuddering breath and then nodded, his eyes

closing, the rigidity of pain-locked muscles loosening. “Yes, Owen.”

The nurse and doctor were murmuring in soft voices as they left the room,

giving them some privacy, which Owen greatly appreciated. Alex chose that

moment to come closer, saying, “God, Sterling, I'm so sorry. If I'd had any idea

things were going to go down like that, I never would have—”

“No,” Sterling said weakly, then started to cry while keeping as still as

possible, which looked both difficult and painful. “It's not—not your fault…”

“Shh,” Owen told him, then turned to Alex. “I know you want to help, but

there's nothing you can do right now.” It seemed cruel to tell Alex he was

making things worse, even though it was true. “Go home. I'll call you later and

let you know how he is. And if you talk to Kirk, let him know I'll be in touch.”

Alex nodded. “I'm so sorry. So, so—”

“We know. Go on now.” Owen was relieved when Alex left, glad that there

was one less distraction from Sterling, who needed all of his attention just

then. “Shh. It's all right. I'm here. Just listen to me and relax.” He stroked

Sterling's hair gently. “Everything's going to be fine.”

Breath hitching, Sterling shuddered and closed his eyes. “I—I'm so glad

you're here.”

“That's good to know,” Owen said, keeping his voice conversational. Tears

were wet on Sterling's face, trickling down, and he wiped them away with his

fingers. “Because I don't plan on leaving, just to make that perfectly clear.”

“I'm sorry too,” Sterling murmured. “I shouldn't—Kirk—God, I was so

stupid
—”

“The only stupid person in this room is me for letting you walk out in that

state,” Owen said ruefully. “But we can save the apologies for later. I'll call

them back in, and you're going to let them deal with your shoulder. It will hurt,

but this time I'll be here. You'll be safe.”

“Okay,” Sterling whispered, looking at him trustingly, willing to accept the

pain because Owen had told him to.

Once Sterling was relaxed, his breathing deep and steady, his gaze on

Owen's face, it was fairly quick work to take some X-rays, which confirmed that

it was safe to put his shoulder back into its socket. He didn't fight the doctors

and nurse, stayed calm and still while they rotated his arm and let the

shoulder slip back into place, although he let out a horrible choked scream

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199

when it did. The relief was immediate if the way Sterling went limp afterward

meant anything.

“Oh God,” Sterling said, breathing heavily. “Thank God. That's so much

better.”

“Here, we're just going to move it around a little bit and make sure

everything's where it belongs,” the doctor said. He lifted Sterling's arm and

moved it around, then nodded in satisfaction and gestured at the nurse

standing nearby, who handed him a sling. “Sit up here—good, good—and I'll

strap you up.” He worked quickly, his movements smooth, earning Owen's

gratitude as it saved Sterling enduring any more pain than was inevitable.

“There we go.”

“Thanks. Sorry—about before.” Sterling was still pale, but he looked

better.

“Don't worry about it. That was nothing compared to some people.” The

doctor patted Sterling's good shoulder and turned to Owen. “He won't be able

to drive tonight, obviously, and he'll have to take it easy with that arm for a

week or more. He should see his own doctor by Friday at the latest for follow-

up. Over-the-counter pain medication should suffice, but he'll need to ice the

joint to minimize swelling. You're going to take him home?”

“Yes, he'll be staying with me,” Owen said, committing the brief

instructions to memory. He didn't think that Sterling was taking much of the

conversation in, too dazed by meds and the ordeal. “I'll take care of him.”

“The young man who brought him in told us what happened—” The doctor

hesitated and then said, “If there's any counseling required, or if your friend

wants to report this incident—”

“No,” Sterling said, his voice stronger now as he sat up and turned so his

feet were dangling toward the floor. “I just want to go home with Owen. I'll be

fine.”

“Your call,” the doctor said with a shrug. A baby's wail, high and piercing,

cut through the background noise, and he turned his head. “I think I'm being

paged,” he said dryly. “There's some paperwork to fill out at the desk, and a

pharmacy in the lobby if you need it.” With a nod to them both, he left the

cubicle.

“You don't have a shirt,” Owen observed out loud for the first time.

“I didn't want to try to get it on. I think it's in my car. Oh no! Alex has the

keys.” Sterling giggled, and Owen guided his feet back up onto the gurney. “I'm

so stoned.”

“Clearly.” Owen was a mix of confusing emotions, relieved that Sterling

was all right, worried about what had gotten him hurt in the first place, angry

at Kirk for messing around with something he knew too little about and with

himself for not having put a firmer stop to Kirk's fumbling attempts to seduce

Sterling weeks ago. “Stay here. I'm going to see what we need to do to spring

you. All right?”

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Sterling nodded and curled onto his good side, closing his eyes. It wouldn't

have surprised Owen to find him asleep when he came back a few minutes

later, paperwork in hand, but Sterling's eyes were open.

“Oh, good. I was wondering if I'd have to carry you. Which I should

anyway because your car, while still in the parking lot, is locked. You were

right about Alex taking the keys. Sterling?”

The boy turned a dopey smile in his direction. “Hmm?”

“Never mind. Here, pretend to sign these.” Owen signed them himself,

returned them to the desk without comment, and went to bring his car around

so Sterling wouldn't have as far to go. One of the nurses put Sterling in a

wheelchair and rolled him out to the sidewalk, then helped Owen get him into

the car. Sterling was a little
too
relaxed now, floppy but in good spirits as Owen