Furious Read online

  Still smiling, she turned the water on and pointed the nozzle away from him.

  “Hmm, tell me if this is okay,” Sloane mumbled as she carefully moved the nozzle until it was spraying by his hand, but not touching. “Well?”

  Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Chase flicked his fingertips in the water, expecting it to be ice-cold. He was surprised to find that it was hot but not too hot. In fact, it was perfect, just the way he liked it.

  “It’s fine,” he said in a bored tone.

  She nodded her approval and placed the nozzle in the lower holder where he could reach it, something no one else had ever done for him before. He watched her hands like a hawk watched its prey, waiting for her to try and change the temperature of the water. When she didn’t, it made him even more nervous.

  What the hell was her game?

  Sloane stepped out of the way and pointed the water at him. It startled him, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat there, letting the hot water seep into his bones. It felt good. Not that he would ever admit it.

  Instead, Chase grabbed the side rail and leaned forward to wet his hair. A bottle of his favorite shampoo was thrust into his hands as he moved to lean back. Taking the hint, he lathered his hair and then grabbed the bar of soap and scrubbed his body, but he didn’t do it for her. No, he did it for himself. It felt so good to have hot water running down his body.

  Long after he was done washing, Chase continued to sit there enjoying the water. Soon he found himself nodding off but managed to force his eyes open when he felt a towel rub over his skin.

  “It’s okay. Let’s get you dried off and into a warm bed,” Sloane said soothingly.

  Too tired to argue, Chase simply sat there and allowed her to dry him off, move him to his wheelchair, and wheel him into his room. A few minutes later, he was aware of the scent of fresh laundry and the feel of crisp, clean sheets against his skin.

  “Your urinal is by the bed and I’ll be right back with a pitcher of ice-water in a few minutes. I’m going to leave the bathroom doors open just in case you need me. Okay?”

  His last thought before he dozed off was wondering why a woman would be foolish enough to leave her bedroom door open for a man she’d just met. Then it hit him.

  He really wasn’t a man anymore.

  Chapter 3

  “I’m so glad that I took this job,” Sloane said dryly, nodding as she glanced at the bathroom door that had been slammed shut in her face with a mumbled, “Fuck off,” to start her day off right.

  Sighing heavily, she turned around and debated putting her things away. Normally, she liked to wait a week before she settled in to make sure that the job was a good fit, but something, mostly his file, told her that probably wasn’t going to matter. It also told her that he probably wouldn’t end up being her favorite patient. That was fine, Sloane told herself as she headed for her bags and placed them on her bed.

  She didn’t need to like him in order to do her job. It would just make her job easier, Sloane thought, biting back another sigh as she put her clothes away. It would also make her life easier, Sloane mused as she grabbed her toiletry bag and placed it in her nightstand drawer, knowing better than to put her toothbrush within reach of a patient that hated her.

  For a moment, Sloane debated leaving her shampoo and body wash in here only to decide to chance it since she hadn’t seen any Nair in his bathroom yesterday. She grabbed her travel bag and knocked on the bathroom door. When she didn’t hear anything, she tried the doorknob only to find it locked.

  “Chase?” Sloane said only to sigh and head for the hallway, absently noting that he was already sitting in front of the living room television with a beer. For a moment, she considered saying something, but…

  That was a battle for another day.

  They had other things that they needed to work on today, Sloane reminded herself as she walked into his room and found herself biting back a groan when she saw the mess he’d left behind. Sighing, she walked into the bathroom and placed her things in the shower before shifting her attention to the mess he’d left behind.

  As she threw his dirty clothes in the hamper, she went over everything they had to do today and sighed again because something told her that her new patient wasn’t going to make this easy on her. Telling herself that it was fine, because that’s what she did so that she could handle this job without losing her mind, she made his bed, noted that he hadn’t used the urinal that she’d left by the bed, and headed back to her room. She grabbed his file along with her phone and iPad and headed to the kitchen, absently noting that he was still in the living room.

  Once she was in the kitchen, she put her things down and decided to grab something to drink while she tried to make sense out of the mess that the previous nurses left behind. Four hours later, with the file that his sister had provided, Sloane had managed to put the pieces together and once she did…

  She decided to confirm her suspicions.

  After a quick search of the bathroom, his bedroom, and the kitchen, she found herself staring back down at the list of injuries that her newest patient had endured, noting the number of broken bones, stitches, and surgeries that had been needed to save his life and tried to wrap her mind around the fact that he’d been trying to self-medicate with Advil.

  When she’d spotted all the half-empty bottles of Advil and over-the-counter antacids laying around the house last night, she’d been concerned, but now…now she was really hoping that she was wrong. Five phone calls and an hour later, she found herself sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing her temples as she slowly exhaled, wondering how he’d managed to go ten months without seeing a doctor, having physical therapy, or pain killers to help manage the excruciating pain that he had to be in.

  A small chime had her throwing her cellphone an annoyed look before she looked back down at the notes that she’d made and–

  “Robert seems happy that you’re back in town,” Chase said, drawing her attention to find him holding her phone.

  “I see we have a problem with boundaries. Good to know,” Sloane drawled, biting back a sigh as she held her hand out in silent demand.

  Ignoring her hand, Chase tossed her phone back on the table and headed to the fridge to grab another beer, making her wonder how much he was drinking. Probably too much, Sloane thought as she picked up her phone and reluctantly deleted the message before tossing it back on the table so that she could focus back on the list that seemed to be getting longer with every passing minute.

  As much as she would love to see Robert while she was here, it didn’t look like that was going to be possible, not with everything that she had to do for this patient. She didn’t have time for herself, never mind seeing a guy that she’d gone out with once five years ago. Sighing heavily, Sloane rubbed her hands down her face, wishing that she’d taken time off like she’d originally planned before taking on another patient, but when she saw the job posting for Emerald, Florida, she’d decided to apply so that she could spend more time with her family. But right now, that didn’t look like it was going to happen. She’d been here less than a day and she was already exhausted, Sloane thought as she forced herself to focus back on the list that she needed to get through today.

  “You’re wasting your time,” came the bored announcement as she glanced at her watch, wondering if she should go now on the off-chance that the pharmacy was able to fill his prescriptions early.

  “And how’s that?” Sloane absently asked, grabbing the list of physical therapists that the rehab had sent home with him, deciding that she’d wait a little while longer.

  “I don’t need help,” Chase bit out, saying the four words that she expected to hear a lot over the next few days.

  “Okay, then what do you need?” she asked, glancing up just in time to see Chase grab a bottle of Advil off the counter.

  “For you to leave me the hell alone,” he said, tossing a small handful of pills in his mouth.

  “I’m afraid that I can’t
do that,” Sloane said, biting back a wince when he swallowed the pills dry as she noted the strain around his eyes, the way that his lips were pressed into a flat line, and noted that he looked paler than he had a few minutes ago.

  “You really can, though,” Chase murmured, finishing off his beer before tossing the empty can in the kitchen sink.

  “Exactly how much pain are you in right now?” she asked, not really surprised when he ignored her question and settled on glaring at her.

  “Just stay out of my way,” Chase said evenly as he rolled back over to the refrigerator and grabbed another beer as he shot her one last glare before he headed back to the living room.

  Knowing that wasn’t an option, Sloane released another heavy sigh as she focused back on her list even as she couldn’t help but wonder how she was going to get the stubborn man to give a damn whether he lived or died.

  *-*-*-*

  “Fuck!” Chase managed to get out as he grabbed hold of the edge of the bathroom sink and–

  Bit back a scream of agony as more pain shot down his spine and the muscles in his back and thighs continued to spasm before cramping down and tearing a groan from him that had him releasing his hold on the counter so that he could grab the small wastebasket and lose his breakfast of beer and Advil. Gasping, he opened his eyes, absently noted the blood in the wastebasket before he dropped it on the floor and reached for the antacids that stopped helping a long time ago.

  He popped two pills in his mouth, swallowed, and tossed the empty box on the bathroom counter before pushing himself toward the shower. He shoved the armrest out of the way with trembling hands, reached over and grabbed hold of the white plastic bench and moved to transition himself only to end up tightening his hold on the bench as another wave of nausea tore through him as black spots danced along his vision.

  For several minutes, he sat there, struggling to catch his breath as nausea and pain battled for control until it became too fucking much for him to handle. Releasing his hold on the bench, Chase dropped his head in his trembling hands as he struggled not to lose his fucking mind. He released a shaky breath as he sat there wondering what he’d done to deserve this.

  Every day was worse than the last and he honestly wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this fucking wheelchair, but the pain…

  God, the fucking pain was slowly killing him.

  Something had to fucking give, Chase thought as he heard the bathroom door open behind him. Releasing another shaky breath, he said, “Get the fuck out,” only to bite back a groan when more pain shot down his spine.

  “Sorry it took so long, but the pharmacy was backed up,” Sloane said, ignoring him as she walked into the bathroom and placed two white plastic bags on the counter with a sigh.

  “Don’t fucking care,” he managed to get out, praying that the pain swallowed him whole before he lost it.

  “They were able to fill all of your prescriptions,” Sloane said while she sorted through the bags, pulling out prescription bottles and placing them in the medicine cabinet as he sat there, struggling to breathe as he watched her, so fucking close to begging her for something that would stop this.

  Just when he felt himself about to do just that, Chase ground his jaw and told himself that the pain would be gone soon. He didn’t need her help, didn’t want it, and he wasn’t about to fucking beg for it. He–

  “This should help with the pain,” Sloane said as she placed a small plastic cup with three pills in one of his hands and pressed a bottle of water in the other.

  He waited until she turned her back before he tossed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them along with half the bottle of water, damn near sighing in relief because it had been a long time since he had anything stronger than Advil to deal with the pain. While he waited for the pills to kick in, he watched her as she went to throw away the empty bags only to pause when she saw the bloody mess in the wastebasket.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her to mind her own fucking business when she picked up the wastebasket and dumped the contents into the toilet. Once she was done, she rinsed out the wastebasket, dumped the water in the toilet, and placed it back on the floor before grabbing a pink bottle from the medicine cabinet. Without a word, she filled a small plastic cup with the pink liquid before passing it to him with a murmured, “This should help with your stomach,” and shifted her attention to the shower behind him.

  Watching her, Chase drank the liquid that tasted like strawberries before tossing the plastic cup on the bathroom counter. She didn’t say anything or try to lecture him as she started the shower, which was the only reason that he didn’t stop her when she reached for his shirt. Once she had it off, he reached down with trembling hands and worked on shoving his shorts off. It took several attempts and a bit of help from her, but once he had them off, he allowed her to help him transition to the plastic bench and as soon as he was settled, he couldn’t help but groan when the hot water hit his aching muscles, making it easier to breathe.

  “I was able to get you a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” the woman that was wasting her time said as she grabbed a facecloth off the shelf.

  “Cancel it,” Chase said, dropping his head forward beneath the stream of hot water while Sloane ran the facecloth over his back, forcing him to bite back a groan.

  God, that felt so fucking good.

  “Can’t,” she said, slowly working the tension from his muscles.

  “You really can, though, because I’m not fucking going,” Chase said because the last thing that he needed right now was another doctor telling him that he was lucky to be alive.

  “If you don’t go, they won’t refill your pain medication again,” Sloane explained, running the facecloth over his shoulders.

  “That’s too fucking bad because I’m not going,” Chase bit out because there was no fucking way that she was going to make him leave this house.

  Absolutely fucking none.

  Chapter 4

  “I want to go home,” Chase bit out again.

  Sloane barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “We’ll go home as soon as we’re done here,” she said, tossing several packs of boxer briefs in the cart.

  Not that she would ever admit it or anything, but she really and truly loved Super Wal-Mart. Where else could she get tube socks, new windshield wipers, and a pint of ice cream all in one place and save money? Since she was a secret shopaholic that loved to save money, this place was perfect for her.

  “You didn’t need to drag me along,” Chase bit out, not really looking all that happy to be spending his morning buying underwear.

  With a shrug, she said, “You needed to get out. Besides, wouldn’t you rather pick out your own clothes?” Neither one of them mentioned the fact that she got up early this morning, hid all the remote controls for the televisions, and threatened to throw them in the trash disposal if he didn’t come with her.

  He looked pointedly at the shopping cart. “I haven’t put one goddamn thing in there.”

  “No one’s stopping you.”

  “Fine,” Chase bit out, keeping his glare focused on her as he grabbed a package of boxer shorts and threw them in the carriage.

  With an impatient sigh, Sloane pulled them out of the carriage and returned them to the rack.

  “Hey!”

  “They’re ugly and they’re about three sizes too small for you.”

  The scowl that he’d been wearing since she’d mentioned Wal-Mart this morning quickly turned into one of the cockiest grins that she’d ever seen. “Noticed that, did you?”

  Rolling her eyes, because it would be so wrong to admit that she’d noticed, she grabbed a pack of socks and threw them in the cart. Her job was to get him back into the swing of things and that meant taking care of him until he wanted the job.

  “Why don’t we grab some food?” she suggested, steering the cart toward the other end of the store.

  “How about we fucking don�
�t?” Chase shot back, but he did follow her, which she took as progress.

  They started in the dairy aisle, where she gave him enough time to pick out what he wanted, but he didn’t look interested, so she continued to the next aisle. As soon as they reached the chip aisle, he headed straight for the Doritos display, grabbed several nacho cheese party-sized bags and tossed them in the cart. She had to bite back a smile at the satisfied look on his face. He looked adorable, but if she told him that he’d probably tell her to go fuck herself again.

  She heard a small gasp and turned around to find a middle-aged woman staring at Chase.

  “Oh, you poor man! What happened?” the woman asked, shocking the ever-living hell out of Sloane.

  A muscle beneath Chase’s eye twitched as he glared at her. “A drug deal gone bad,” he finally said.

  The woman’s eyes widened in horror as Chase’s words registered and left Sloane cringing because this probably wasn’t going to end well.

  “That’ll teach me to switch suppliers based on the word of a hooker,” he said, clearly enjoying the nosy woman’s reaction.

  “That’s horrible!” the woman gasped in outrage.

  Chase snorted. “You’re telling me. The bitch gave the worst blowjobs. It only goes to show that you should never trust a woman that doesn’t swallow.”

  She let out a horrified gasp, shoved her carriage away, and practically ran from the aisle, leaving Chase chuckling after her.

  “I’m glad to see you’re having fun,” Sloane said dryly as she grabbed a bag of pretzels and tossed them in the carriage.

  All signs of humor disappeared and Chase was back to glowering. “Hurry up, my show is starting soon,” he bit out, and with that, he was rolling toward the next aisle.

  Sighing heavily, Sloane followed him. She really had her work cut out for her with this one.

  *-*-*-*

  “For fuck sake, woman! Can’t we go home yet?” Chase demanded as Sloane parked the black minivan that his sister had traded in his truck for. He hated the damn thing. It was big, slow, and worst of all, it had fucking handicap plates on it, announcing to one and all that he was a fucking cripple.