Every Heart (13 page)

“You know, you said you only needed one more day off and it’s been practically two weeks,” James jokes with me.

“I know, I’m sorry about that, it’s not like I got hit by a car on purpose,” I retort humorously.

“I know, I know,” he repeats.

I was released from the hospital yesterday and boy does it feel good to be at home. I’m sore as fuck, but the doctors say that goes with the territory. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Arion, so breathtaking that my cock and body ache for her. She walks back in with a water for James and sits next to me. So close that she is practically on my lap.

“Don’t let me interrupt you two,” she says with a smirk on her face.

“You won’t. I’m glad that you’re here,” James adds. “I wanted to talk to both of you about rumors that the Nets are thinking of trading Bain.”

“What?” I spit, so angry that I hurt my incision. Pain radiates through me, so harsh my breathing skips a beat.
Traded? “
The season hasn’t even started yet, I really don’t understand. I was their top pick in the first round.”

“The Miami Heat really like you and are willing to make a sweet deal, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve yet to confirm this with anyone from the Nets organization. I don’t want to freak you out, but it’s also my job to be honest with you.”

I look at Arion as she stares at me with worry etched all across her face. Jesus, if only I could get into her head, even if it was just for a few moments.

“When will you know more?” she asks.

“I’m hoping in the next day or so. This is just part of the business, guys.”

“Can I do anything to help?” she asks.

“No, but thank you, Arion. I’ll let you know if anything comes up. Listen, I have to run to another meeting. I just didn’t want you to get caught off guard when ESPN gets wind of this. I’m hoping your agent might know more than I do. But I’ll be in touch. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

I nod my head and give James a hug as he leans down to me. Then he kisses Arion on the cheek and she walks him out.

As she walks back to me on the couch, I do my best to stay positive. Deep down I know no matter what happens, she’ll come with me. But in the past we have struggled going down this road. But this is our fate and we have to learn to accept it. We’ll be together always and really…that’s all that matters.

“Are you okay?” Bain asks me.

Instinctively I nod my head, but inside I’m not really sure. Hearing the news that he might get traded is a shock. I guess none of that should matter. Thinking about the positive side of things, at least he’s getting traded and not cut. It doesn’t make a difference where he goes – we’ll go together and be together.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, scooting softly over beside him. I don’t know what it is or why, but since we’ve been home, I can’t seem to get close enough to him.

“Yeah, I mean, what can I do about it? This is life, our life, and what’s meant to be will be, baby.”

I can’t help but smirk at him and then lay my head on his lap. We sit in silence, relishing one another’s solace. I thank God for this moment, for Bain and everything that he has given to me. The serenity that surrounds me causes me to close my eyes. Then Bain’s phone rings and I hop up to grab it for him. The screen says
private
and I fear it’s related to the trial.

Handing the phone to Bain, he hesitates for half a second, then brings it to his ear. “Hello,” he answers firmly.

I can’t help but watch his face as all of the color drains from it. His confidence and poise are washed away in an instant.

“Okay,” he says. “Uh-huh.”

He looks at me while he talks and I know what’s going on.

“Really? Jesus Christ, okay, we’ll be there.” He listens for a moment. “No, I’ll call them. You don’t need to.”

He tilts his head back and his tone changes. “Yes, that is still correct. Okay, we’ll see you then.”

He hangs up, dropping the phone and begins to shake his head slowly. Tears overflow out of his eyes and I reach for him, needing to touch him.

“My parents and I need to testify at the sentencing.”

“What? Why?”

“He copped a plea deal.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, that was the news I got about the case when you were gone.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, baby. How long?”

“Twelve to twenty motherfucking years is all that asshole is getting.”

“I don’t understand. Last I’d heard the DA was hoping he’d get fifty.”

“I don’t know either. She said that this judge is really lenient and in order to get the maximum penalty imposed then she’s recommending that my parents and I all speak at the sentencing,” he says readjusting himself on the couch, pain blazing in his eyes when he moves, and I just feel so bad for him.

“When is it?”

“Next month.”

“Well, at least you can heal.”

“I told you, baby, I’m fine. I’m home with you and that’s all that matters.”

“I feel the same way, but I can tell you’re still sore.” He glares at me and I stop talking about how he is feeling. “Are you going to talk to your parents about this?”

“Yeah, I’ll call them, but not now. I know they are both working and I don’t want to upset them while they are there. I’ll call them tonight.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot your mom went back to work. How is she liking it?”

“She loves it, it’s a good change for her.”

“And you, are you okay with the plea?” I ask, afraid that inside he’s a wreck.

“As shitty as it is to know that asshole is basically getting away scot-free, at least he is going to serve some time. I know deep down that Kinsey wouldn’t want me to be upset, so I hold on to that.”

I smile at Bain and he puckers his lips to me, showing me that he wants a kiss.

Leaning over, I kiss him, tasting his sweetness. His eyes are closed and a growl comes from his throat.

“I think you promised me lunch after James left.”

“That I did,” I respond and kiss him one last time before walking to our fridge. Looking inside, I realize that I really need to go to the store. “What do you feel like?” I ask and turn to see Bain coming towards me. He’s slow to walk, but fuck, he’s hot in a pair of basketball shorts and a thin white t-shirt. “Baby, what are you doing up?” I ask.

“I didn’t like being away from you and I wanted to watch you cook.”

I roll my eyes, grabbing one of the chairs from our kitchen table and pull it over for him to sit on. He kisses my forehead before he not so gracefully flops down. “I don’t like how sore you are,” I complain.

“I’m fine. It’s more my ribs than the incision anyways.”

“Do you know when the team doctors will clear you to start practicing?” I ask, taking some food out of the fridge.

“I’m hoping next week.”

I glare at him and he leans forward, swatting my ass. I yelp and then notice him hunkered over in pain. Kneeling between his legs, I hold on to him, trying to take away some of the pain. “I’m okay,” he responds after a long pause.

“You are not okay. You need to get back to the couch and rest.”

Then out of my peripheral vision, I catch sight of his cock, hard and big, straining for attention. He mouths the word “please” to me when I look back at him. I question doing this for only half a second, but figure if I go slow and easy that it
will
be nothing but pleasure. A pleasure both of us have been seeking for a while now. With my signature smirk plastered across my face, I gently pull his shorts down, removing his hard member. With my free hand, I cup his balls and keep the pressure of the fabric from riding up. Then making a few small movements, I look deep into his eyes. It doesn’t last long though, my mouth yearns for him like nothing else, so I wrap my soft lips around his thick head, swirling my tongue as I go down on him. He tilts his head back, groaning as I move ever so gently, up and down.

I love the feeling of controlling him like this. I also love that even though I am being gentle, I still please him to this level. Doing this for him makes my pussy burn in anticipation. Fuck, I want him inside of me, but he’s too weak. Removing my hand from his shaft, I take him hands-free, clamping my lips tightly around as I go. He reaches for my hair, twisting his fingers into it and I know he is close already.

Without faltering my movements, I keep a steady pace, so thankful that we are both in this moment together.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, letting go with no warning and coming deep in my throat. I relish his deliciousness, swallowing and savoring every bit of him. He smiles at me as I keep going, not wanting to stop. Then he nods his head and says, “Harder.”

Reaching up, I clench his cock at the base and quickly pull him in and out of my mouth. To my surprise, it doesn’t take but a few quick strokes and he comes again. He makes the most ravenous noises. His hand is still locked tightly in my hair and this time once he’s finished, I stop. Afraid that a third come would hurt him. All though I am curious to see if I’d be able to push him there.

“How are you feeling?” my doctor asks me.

“I guess okay.”

“Are you sleeping?”

“When I take my meds, I am.”

“Any pain in your leg?” he asks as he looks at what is left of my poorly mangled stub of a leg.

“A little. It’s more of a dull throbbing pain.”

“That’s the nerve damage,” he responds, hitting both of my knees to check their reflexes. Both of them nudge forward on their own.

“You look good, Nathaniel, minus your weight. I want you to meet with our dietitian and see what you can do to gain forty to fifty pounds.

“Fifty?” I exclaim.

“Yes, fifty. Other than that, you are damn lucky. Your eyes look good, both have healed exceptionally well, and the same goes for your leg. All of the scars look like they have healed great. I think you can start coming in every three months. How does that sound?”

The news is a sigh of a relief. Since all of this started, I have been in and out of the doctors’ offices so frequently that finally hearing I am making progress makes me feel good.

“That is…if you can put on some weight,” he says before he leaves the room.

“I promise,” I respond and shake his hand. He turns on a dime before I can say another word, and the door clicks closed behind him. Quickly, I change out of the pathetic gown, putting my clothes back on and place the referral slip for a prosthetic in my pocket. Jesus, I can’t imagine how good it will feel to walk on my own again. It will be a dream come true.

I get in the car and mentally decide to make a detour. I know that any day now will be my last to visit. I think saying goodbye in a proper way will help me to truly move on. I guess I have God to thank for that, even though I don’t feel like it. These days, I’ve been looking for anything to do with my time even if it’s hard on me or not, even something that I particularly don’t like, because I have to keep busy. Being without Arion is weighing so heavily on me. It’s harder than I ever imagined and I don’t know how else to handle things.

My psychologist says for me to let her go. To think back to where we first made a connection and cut it, but that’s impossible. Trust me, I’ve tried.

As I drive down the rows and rows of tombstones, I know right where I am headed. When you are going to visit your own grave, how can you get lost? The grass is green, so green, and the trees are tall and fully budded. I put my car in park and collect my crutches, then head out. I stop for a few moments and stand in the bright and warm sun, gathering the heat.

Then I know what I have to do and I will myself to move forward. With every step comes great trials, but this is something that I am doing for myself. I repeat that over and over in my head as many times as I can. Hoping the words will be my strength today.

Finally, kneeling at my grave, my name is clear as day.
Nathaniel Jeffrey Wilcox.

It’s so strange to imagine that my friends and family laid me to rest here, when I was struggling to stay alive halfway across the world. If only they would have known that I’d survived, things now would be so different. Arion wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else. She would have been fighting for my return home, just like I was.