Offside (61 page)

So much for having my back.

Nicole put her face back in her hands as Greg got his shit together and left the house. I wheeled over as close as I could get to her without running over her foot and reached out to put my hand on her leg.

“Why are you leaving me?” she whispered through tears.

“I’m not, Rumple. I swear.” I took a deep breath. “I’m doing this for you as much as for me. If there is any possibility that I might walk again, I have to go back there and work on it. I can’t do that here. You haven’t been back to school since the funeral, and I know you want to…to take care of me, but I have to learn to take care of myself.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll do it. You…you saved me, and I want to…”

“I know you do,” I said. I tried to hold back my own tears as she got off of the couch and crawled into my lap. I held on to her as she wrapped her arms around my head.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know,” I told her. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. I have to do it for both of us.”

I held her. She cried. I cried. Eventually, we crawled into my bed together. We didn’t get kinky or anything, just held on to each other for the longest time. We talked more about how she would still come up to the center to see me as often as she could as well as to bring me my assignments so I could finish school on time. I’d have sessions with Danielle and Justin and work my own shit out so I could be here for her when I got back out.

It wasn’t what my heart wanted, but in my head, I knew it was the right thing to do.

“Rumple?” I whispered into her hair. I was half afraid she had fallen asleep. It was getting late, and Greg hadn’t come home yet.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know how long I’ll have to stay there,” I admitted. “If I…if I’m there too long…I mean…would you…you know…wait for me?”

She turned her head up to look me in the eye.

“I can’t believe you would even ask that,” she replied.

I shrugged.

“You wouldn’t have to,” I said softly. “But…if you did…”

“I would,” she said. “I will. You know I will—for as long as it takes.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. I didn’t realize how tense the thought made me until my body relaxed after hearing her words.

“Thank you,” I said. “Because I’m pretty sure even if I do walk again, I’m still going to need you.”

“Anything,” she replied as she placed her lips against mine.

If nothing else, Shakespeare taught me “tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after.” Somehow, I knew Nicole would have plenty of opportunities to help me in the future.

Now I had to, as it were, stand on my own two feet.

CHAPTER 34

THREE POINTS

“This is fucking
bullshit
!”

At that moment, I would have done just about anything to be able to jump up out of my chair and slam my fist through the wall of Justin’s office at the rehab center. Instead, I only sat there with my hands balled into fists against my eyes.

As it seemed to do these days, my anger at
him
—Lou, my
Dad
—turned back inside of me and came out in tears.

I fucking hated it.

I looked up at Justin, who was sitting in the chair across from me, leaning back in the seat and making the front legs come off the floor a little. He never had a notebook or a clipboard or anything with him when we talked, and I always wondered a little if he just remembered it all or if he wrote it down afterwards.

Sometimes I hated him, too.

I wiped the back of my hand across my face and grabbed one of the tissues out of the box Justin kept on the table. Once I had wiped my eyes and nose, I crushed the tissue into a little wet ball inside my closed fist.

“I hate him,” I said when I calmed down.

“That’s not the problem,” Justin reminded me.

I looked at him again, and I knew exactly what he meant.

“I love him, too.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And that’s bullshit,” I snapped back. “How can I feel both? He beat me and made me feel like shit. I never did anything right. I shouldn’t love that shit.”

“He still raised you,” Justin said. “He did a crap job of it, but you still had a connection.”

“It wasn’t even real,” I said. “He wasn’t my father.”

“How is Gardner? You still talk to him every day?

“Not every day,” I said. “Most days. He wants me to come out there.”

“What do you think of that?”

“I don’t want to until I can get on a plane,” I said.

“You could do that now.”

“I don’t want to fuck around in an airport in this chair.”

“So is this something I should add to your goal list? Get on a plane to Chicago and visit Gardner?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Will do,” Justin said as he stood up. “And on that note, it’s about time for your PT. Nicole coming today?”

“She got a job at the library in town,” I said. “She’ll be running a little late, but she’ll be here.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Sure.”

I rolled out of Justin’s office and down the hallway to the elevator. I glanced at the stairwell—another bullet point on my goal list—and pushed the down button. I was only seeing Justin once a week now, which I guess was supposed to be progress. Some days I felt like I was getting somewhere—like I could almost forgive Dad for treating me the way he did—and other days I still wanted to take Gardner up on his offer to pile a bunch of pictures and shit that belonged to Lou Malone and burn it all in a big-ass bonfire.

Nicole was up for that, too.

An hour and a half later, I was holding myself up by my arms with sweat pouring into my eyes and Danielle chanting encouragement at me from one side of the parallel bars. I kind of wanted to punch her, too. Just like the conflicting feelings I had about my dad, some days I loved my physical therapist, and some days I hated her.

My legs burned.

It was a weird sensation. I could feel them just fine, and some of the muscle tone was back. It was just the motor control that seemed to be missing. I could push with my feet and lift weights if I was sitting, but holding up my own body weight was a whole different thing. My legs just didn’t seem to have the coordination to both hold me up and move me forward at the same time.

I could take a couple of steps at a time and had been able to for a month. I just couldn’t seem to make any more progress.

“Come on, Thomas!” Danielle said. “One more step! Push!”

“I’m not having a fucking baby!” I bellowed at her.

I really don’t know how that woman puts up with her patients. She says I’m not even the worst.

“Don’t give me that! Concentrate!”

“You can do it, baby.”

I looked up and saw Nicole at the end of the row of bars. I hadn’t heard her come in. She had a big smile on her face and looked so fucking beautiful I wanted to run the six feet it would have taken to get to her just to wrap my arms around her.

Instead, I focused on moving one foot just a few inches in front of the other one.

More burning in my thighs and my left calf—like I was running a fucking marathon or something. More sweat in my eyes, and my lungs felt like they were going to go all
Alien
on me and pop out some nasty little critter.

I stopped and put my weight back on my arms.

“I can’t do any more.”

“We’re not done yet,” Danielle told me.

If I hadn’t been holding myself up with my arms at that point, I just might have slugged her.

“I’m fucking done, okay?” I yelled back.

“Ten more minutes,” she insisted. “Then you can take a break and hang out with Nicole.”

“Fuck you!”

“Ten minutes!”

“Danielle,” Nicole called out, “may I take over?”

Danielle smiled and laughed softly.

“Be my guest,” she replied. “Ten more minutes.”

“Fuck you both,” I mumbled. Nicole was a worse slave driver than Danielle.

“Only if you reach me,” Nicole said coyly, and my head jerked up to where she was standing.

I hadn’t really paid any attention when she came in, but she was wearing one of those tight fitting V-neck sweaters that showed a lot of cleavage. Her hair was over her shoulders and down her back, and she was using one finger to slide down the V-shape and over the rise of her breast.

“Fuck me hard,” I mumbled.

“Come and get it,” she suggested.

My foot almost moved without me asking it to.

The burning was still there, but watching Nicole’s fingertips as they ran over her skin had me in a fucking trance or something. We hadn’t had sex in over a week—since she stayed over last Friday night in my room at the center—and now she was practically fondling herself right out here in the open. My right foot slid slowly over the floor.

“Not so much weight on your arms,” Nicole reminded me. She wasn’t any easier to fool than Danielle was.

I scowled but released my death grip on the bar.

More sweat in my eyes.

More itching and burning in the muscles of my legs.

My hips started to ache.

My left foot managed to actually rise off the ground to move forward.

“Shit,” I mumbled then looked up at Nicole. It fucking hurt. “I can’t anymore…”

“Yes, you can, baby,” she said. “I know you can. Come on now!”

Then she pulled her sweater out, away from her tits, and looked down into her own shirt.

“They’re just over here waiting for you, you know.”

“Fuck…you don’t play fair…”

She cupped herself, and the sweat pouring down my face probably mixed with drool.

Another step.

I fumbled but grabbed onto the bar and managed not to fall over.

Another step, and I could see down into her shirt a bit as she leaned over. She stuck her finger between her cleavage, and I groaned.

“Three more steps, baby,” she whispered.

I closed my eyes for a second and tried to stop panting. My legs hurt, my feet hurt—my whole lower body fucking hurt. I pushed on anyway.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Lunge.

I grabbed onto Nicole as I pushed myself forward one last time, ended up grabbing onto her, and we both fell onto the mat. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could hardly breathe, but I did make it to the end of the bars.

“You did it!” Nicole screeched.

She was laughing and crying all at the same time. Her arms wrapped around my head, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted drugs to make me pass out or if I wanted to rip her sweater off and suck on her tits.

I did stick my face between them and give her a good motor-boating.

Shakespeare told us, “Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven.” Somehow, I was pretty sure my heaven was right below me, laughing and kissing the sweat off my face.

Now maybe this remedy would stick.

“Oh…yeah…baby…”

“That’s it…” Nicole panted into my neck. “Fuck me back...fuck me back!”

According to the Divinyls, there is a fine, fine line between pleasure and pain. Pushing up with my hips and using my heels for leverage was kind of like that. My cock felt so fucking good in her; it overrode whatever twinges I felt in my legs.

“You like riding my cock?” I hummed into Nicole’s ear. “You like it, don’t cha?”

I grazed my teeth over the skin of her throat, and she shivered above me. I was still very gentle, though. My Rumple liked the illusion of getting it rough, but she wasn’t into any kinky shit at all.

“Fuck me harder!”

Well, she did still say that kind of shit.

I loved it.

“That what you want, baby?” I asked, pushing up against her with as much strength as I could. I gripped her hips with my hands and pulled her down to meet me as she groaned and ground down, pushing me deep inside of her. “Yeah, that’s what you want…my cock sliding in and out of you…You love it, don’t cha?”