Broken Lion (31 page)

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Authors: Devon Hartford

Tags: #doctor, #martial arts, #sport, #office, #comedy, #vacation, #women's fantasy

BOOK: Broken Lion
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“Actually, I drew a big arrow and wrote ‘fix this one’ above it. You can’t miss it.”

“Great. Who’s driving you?”

“I’ve got a couple people here for me. I’ll be fine. You gonna be there smiling at me when I wake up?”

I sighed. “I wish I could. But we both know it’s best for me to stay away.”

“I know, I know. The rules. You’re right.”

I needed to change the subject. “Do you have everything set up at home?”

“Yeah. Got the freezer stocked with ice. Fridge stocked with food. My couch is set up like a bed so I’ll be close to the kitchen. I’ll have people here all week to help out. You’re welcome to come by.”

That I could do without worry. “I’ll be over whenever I’m not working or with Daniel.”

“You can bring him. I miss him.” Lion hadn’t seen Daniel in a week.

“Maybe I will. I’m just worried about him saying something to Donald.”

“Fuck that guy.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No, it’s cool,” he sighed. “He’ll always be part of the equation.”

I loved how he said always. I also wanted to say I loved him, but I felt shy. Knowing he was going into surgery, I should just say it. But things had been so complicated lately, I just couldn’t. For at least a minute, I tried. I really did. But I was so choked up with a confusion of emotions, nothing came out.

“You okay, Irish?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Hey, I want to tell you something. Before surgery, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You know there’s always a chance something will go wrong when you go under.”

“Oh, Lion, don’t worry about that. You’re young and healthy. You’ll be fine.”

“Still. You never know. I’ve seen too many people die way too young. Shit happens.”

“It does,” I said quietly. “Can we not talk about this?”

“I want you to know, whatever happens, I fucking love you. Okay?” He said it defensively, like he was afraid of what I’d say.

He didn’t need to worry.

I was speechless.

I hated that we were having this conversation over the phone. Had we been in the same room, I would’ve just hugged him and cried tears of joy against his chest.

“Irish? You okay?”

Yes
, I mouthed. The word didn’t even come out as a whisper.

“Mr. Maxwell? It’s time for your sedative,” a voice said in the background. It was one of the pre-op nurses.

“Yeah, just a second,” Lion said to the nurse. “Hey, Irish? Are you okay? Did I go too far? I’m really sorry. I should’ve waited. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I didn’t know if it was the gravity of the moment, my pent up feelings for this man, or some combination of the two, but I literally could not speak. I sobbed silently.

“Irish? I gotta go. My phone battery is almost dead. I’m really sorry for springing that on you, but I just—”

The line suddenly went dead right before I blubbered, “I love you too!”

Something about the dead connection started me wailing. I didn’t get myself under control until I heard Daniel mutter through my bedroom door.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” I sniffed. “I’m fine.”

I was a mess, but I was fine.

The likelihood of Lion dying during surgery was extremely slim.

Extremely.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

I was a nervous wreck the rest of the morning. I knew the surgery would be quick, but Lion would be groggy long after. I could’ve called the hospital and had someone check on him, but I didn’t want anyone on staff knowing it was me asking. I could’ve easily gone in and looked for him in recovery, but that was too big a risk.

I really hated these rules.

They weren’t mine.

They were the hospital’s and the state medical board’s.

So I waited.

I took Daniel to the park for a distraction. While he played and ran around, all I thought about was Lion.

I hoped he was all right.

At the rate things were going, I could check his status on the hospital computer when I got to work in the afternoon. Only a few more hours.

While Daniel swung from the jungle gym, my phone rang.

I ripped it out of my purse.

I didn’t recognize the number.

Half-panicked, I answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” The strange voice was gravelly, an older man I didn’t recognize.

“Who is this?”

“Is this Irish?”

“How do you know that name?” I was fully panicked now. The only person who called me Irish was Lion. How did this person know? Unless—

“I’m calling about Lion.”

A hurricane of fear surged through me. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. Little punchy, but he’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, but who is this?”

“Dean Jackson.”

“Coach!” Lion laughed in the background, his voice a blessing. Thank goodness. “Is that my lucky leprechaun?” Lion was loopy, all right. “Gimme the phone, Coach!”

“Hold on a damn minute, I’m talking to the lady.”

“She’s a leprechaun! She has four leaf clovers coming out her ass!”

“You gonna have my fist coming out your ass in a minute if you don’t shut the hell up and let me finish talking.”

“Ass fisting!!!!” Lion squealed laughter.

I giggled, my worries gone.

“Sorry about him, ma’am,” Dean said. “He’s fine. Still waiting to hear from the doctor, but I think it went okay. Lion told me before surgery to call you up after. Set your mind at ease.”

“Oh, thank you so much. Are you going to—”

“Gimme that!” Lion cackled.

“Would you get your damn hands off the—”

“Brigid! It’s me! Lion! I love you, babe! I love you so much.”

I laughed, happy tears running down my cheeks. “I love you too, you stupid idiot.”

“She loves me, Coach! Did you hear that? She loves me! Brigid Flanagan loves me!”

“Would you give me the damn phone?!” Rustling noises as the men wrestled for the phone.

“Dr. Ass Gasket!” Lion chuckled. “How is your asshole? Is it gasketed?”

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Dean said. “The doctor is here. Got a couple questions I wanna ask him about taking care of Lion’s knee. I’ll have Lion call you as soon as the laughing gas or whatever it is wears off.”

“Okay, thanks.” My heart was pounding.

“Bye now.”

The call ended.

One thought ate away at me like a thrashing school of piranhas: Had Dr. Hackett heard Lion shout my name and say that he loved me or not?

My nerves from before the surgery were nothing compared to what they were now.

Chapter 36

LION

I wasn’t sure where I was.

My knee was about two miles away.

I couldn’t feel it at all. It was someone else’s knee.

Voices.

Dean, Cahill, Brigid.

“We should elevate his leg.”

“Can you hand me those pillows.”

“Should we ice it?”

“Not yet. When he wakes up.”

“I’ll get a blanket.”

“Thanks.”

My mom said,
I’m so happy for you, Lion. Brigid is a good woman. Just the kind you need to keep you in line. Don’t laugh. It’ll be good for you to have someone strong now that I’m not around. So tell me, when do I get a grandson?

A second later, it was dark outside.

My knee was being stabbed.

Were they still operating?

What the fuck?

STAB!!

Pain! Pain! Pain! Pain!

“Sorry,” Brigid whispered.

I opened my eyes. “Irish?” My throat was dry as beach sand.

“You need to take your meds. Your pain block is starting to wear off.” She held a glass of water and two pills.

“What is it?” I croaked.

“Vicodin for pain and Toradol for inflammation.”

Normally, I wasn’t one for medicine of any kind, but I would make an exception for the hole somebody had blown in my knee. I downed both pills and the entire glass of water and fell back into unconsciousness. Some time later, I woke to a strange voice I vaguely recognized.

“JoJo, this is your final rose…”

I blinked my eyes and realized I was in the living room. The TV was on. Brigid sat on the huge couch near my feet.

I grunted, “Are you watching The Bachelorette?”

She smirked at me. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“We are no longer friends,” I chuckled.

“I like this show.”

“Can I have another pain pill?”

“It’s too soon. It’s only been two hours since your last one.”

“Yeah,” I grinned, “but this show is killing me.”

“Boo hoo. You big baby. Romance isn’t painful.”

“This show is. Everyone says the same shit every show. I’m so excited. He’s so amazing. I’m so excited. She’s so amazing. I’ve never felt like this before. I feel myself opening up to you. I’m starting to fall for dumbass number one. Dumbass number two showed me a deeper side today. I’m so excited. It’s so amazing. I’m so excited. It’s so amazingly scripted.”

“Wait. Do you watch The Bachelorette?”

“Hell no!”

“Then how do you know so much about it?”

“I don’t know shit about it. Except it’s shit.”

“Liar.”

I chuckled. “Maybe.”

“Then you won’t mind if I turn it up?” The volume was really low.

“Fine. Go ahead. But if I vomit, it’s your fault.”

“You love it.”

And I love you
.

I hadn’t forgotten that I’d told her before I went into surgery. I didn’t remember hearing her say it back. Maybe she felt the same way. Maybe she didn’t. No, that wasn’t right. I knew she did. I wasn’t sure why, but I did.

More importantly, what mattered was she was here.

Everybody knew actions spoke louder than words.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

When The Bachelorette was over, I was sleepy and yawned big. “Is Dean still here?”

“No. He went home when you were sleeping.”

“What about Cahill?”

“I sent him home too.”

“When?”

“Right before The Bachelorette. His wife called. I told him it was okay for him to leave.”

“Why’d you do that? He was supposed to stay here tonight in case I needed something.”

“I took the night off.”

“You did?”

She nodded. Actions, not words.

“Okay then. Hey, I know you met Cahill before, but what’d you think of Dean?”

“I like him,” she smiled. “He’s really nice. Much nicer than you.”

“What?” I laughed. “I’m a saint and you know it.”

She squeezed my leg. The one that hadn’t been operated on. It wasn’t hard to miss. The surgery knee looked mummified.

“You gonna sleep on the couch with me, Irish? It’s big enough for two.” The couch was shaped like a big L. Both arms were long enough and wide enough to sleep comfortably.

“Yes. I already got blankets from your linen closet.”

“I have a linen closet?”

“Do you do anything for yourself?”

“I do everything for myself. But I don’t have any linens. Hence, no linen closet.”

“What are these then?” She lifted the stack of folded bedsheets from the end of the couch.

“Those are sheets. I’m pretty sure they’re made of cotton, not linen.”

She smiled. “You never stop fighting, do you?”

“Nope. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’d ask you to fight these sheets onto the couch, but I’ll let you off this time.”

“I can do it.” I pushed up on my arms. My knee burst with pain. “Maybe not.”

“Sit down and stop fighting already.” She whipped open the first sheet and let it billow down onto the couch.

“It’s like a sleepover. Are we gonna play spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven? How about Twister?”

She smiled. “I think you need to rest.” She bent over and tucked the sheet into the back of the cushions.

“How can I rest when you have your ass in my face? The most perfect ass I’ve ever seen, if I might add.”

She rolled her eyes at me. Then she shimmed her ass in a circle.

“Don’t fucking do that! I’m not gonna be able to sleep if that’s the last thing I see before the lights go out.”

She finished making her bed with minimal tease. “I better go change.”

“You can do it here.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep.”

“So I’m a masochist.”

She picked up her overnight bag. “I’ll go change.”

“Hey, where are the cats?”

“Around here somewhere. Dean fed them before he left. Aslan is on his cat tree.” She walked out to change.

I twisted on the couch until I could see Aslan. As expected, he sat on top, staring down at me.

Sad you’re back, asshole.

“Good to see you too, buddy.”

His tail went swish.

“Admit it. You missed me.”

Swish, swish. He turned away and stared into space.

“You missed me,” I chuckled.

He blinked.

A few minutes later, Brigid returned from the downstairs guest bathroom wearing a Wonder Woman night shirt that went down to her thighs.

“Nice.”

“Daniel gave it to me last Christmas. You like it?”

“It’s appropriate.”

“How’s that?”

“What about you isn’t wonderful, Brigid?”

“I love you too, Lion.”

“What?”

“I said, I think so too.”

“No you didn’t, you said…”

She grinned and flipped off the lights. I heard her crawl under the blankets on her side of the couch.

A few seconds later, something dropped onto my lap. There was just enough light coming in from outside to reveal a small black ball that started purring instantly. “Hey, Gwen. Missed you, girl.”

“Where’s the other one?”

“You never know with Tigg.”

In the darkness, Brigid and I chatted for a few minutes about this and that. While we talked, something rumbled down the hallway upstairs.

“What’s that?” Brigid gasped.

“Tigg. If something bites your toes while you’re sleeping, it’ll be him thinking they’re mice. So you might wanna keep ‘em covered.”

“Good to know.” Her sheets rustled as she shifted them around.

“I’m glad you’re here, Brigid.”

“Me too. You should try and sleep.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Right when I was drifting off, she screamed.

“Did Tigg bite you?”

“No.”

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