Page 66 of Damaged

“Fuck,” I whispered. I couldn’t stop the few tears that managed to escape. If I’d just kept up with my routine appointments…

“You already know that in the long term, you do have to make a decision,” Ronan said as he leaned over the bed a bit and held my gaze. “It’s not one to take lightly and it’s not something you have to decide today or tomorrow.”

“The pain,” I admitted shamefully. Without drugs and alcohol, how would I do it? Could I do it? The idea of having to drive to Baltimore every day for a supervised injection of meds seemed impossible. Which meant I’d need to move closer to the city. I’d have to give up my house, my boat. Maybe I could find a doctor closer to home who could medically manage my pain?

“I spoke with Dr. Blacklock, Dalton. As much as he’d like to do this now rather than later, he understands that the outcome will be life-changing whether the surgery works or not. We think we can give you a little time to think about what you want to do. Do you know what a nerve block is?”

I nodded because the doctors had tried them several times immediately after they’d finished taking out what shrapnel they safely could.

“They never worked,” I muttered.

“What is that?” Silver asked.

I let Ronan explain because I didn’t have the heart to. I hadn’t missed the hope in Silver’s voice as he’d asked the question.

“It’s not a cure, Silver,” Ronan began. “Nerve blocks are used in many cases to ease or even take away a patient’s pain. In Dalton’s case, a special kind of doctor would inject medicine in certain spots in his back that would hopefully lessen or eliminate the pain he’s been feeling. Unfortunately, it’s not a long-term solution because the nerve block wears off. Sometimes it doesn’t work at all. In Dalton’s case, it won’t get rid of the pain altogether because the shrapnel is too close to the nerves, but a nerve block could ease some of his pain.”

Ronan looked at me. “I know they haven’t worked for you in the past, Dalton, but that was when the doctors were trying to get rid of your pain altogether. If they were successful this time, the best outcome would be that you’d feel the same level of pain that you did right after you recovered from that first surgery when they took out all the other shrapnel. That means you’d still be in pain, but it wouldn’t be as debilitating as it is now. You might even be able to control that level of pain with over-the-counter medications that target inflammation. As I said, there’s no guarantee it will work and if it does, it could last weeks or months but probably not more than three.”

Three months? God, the things I could do in three months. I remembered the pain when I’d first gotten through with the physical therapy that had been part of my recovery from surgery right after the IED. It had been a cakewalk compared to the pain I was feeling these days. Did I want to get my hopes up like that, though?

Who was I kidding, my hopes were already up.

“Even just a few weeks would give you time to think about what you want to do,” Ronan continued.

“Are there any risks with the nerve block?” I asked.

“There are always risks when you’re dealing with the nerves around your spinal cord, but they would be low with the right anesthesiologist. We’ve already found one of the best in the country. She’s located in Boston, and she’s agreed to fly down here to do it if that’s how you want to move forward. You’d still need to attend AA meetings and follow up regularly with counselors so you have the additional support you need to stay sober,” Ronan added. His eyes had shifted to Silver with the last few words.

Silver nodded in understanding.

“Silver, you don’t?—”

“I know what I do or don’t have to do, Dalton,” Silver said firmly. That defiant look was back in his eyes. The one he’d had when he’d stripped in the gas station parking lot and when he’d confronted me about the alcohol and pills.

“If Dalton chooses it, how long until we know if it worked?” Silver asked.

“It could take a couple weeks, but it varies by patient. He could find relief sooner, later, or not at all,” Ronan warned.

Silver looked at me. There was no denying what he wanted me to do, but he said, “You have to choose, Dalton. You can’t do it for me or for Jace or for anyone else. You have to do it for yourself because it’s what you want.”

It was in that moment that I knew.

I knew what decision I would make.

But there was something even more important that I knew. I didn’t care that Jace and Ronan were in the room when I pulled my hand free of Silver’s so I could ease his head down. He accepted my soft kiss and didn’t move when I kept my hand on the back of his head.

“I love you,” I whispered. My words brushed his lips as I spoke them.

It felt like a lifetime before he responded. He kissed me just as softly as I’d kissed him. “Me too, Dalton. I love you too.”

Something in my chest that had been locked up from the moment I’d walked through the front door of the home I’d lived in when I’d been fifteen suddenly loosened and then disappeared like it had never been. I kissed Silver slow and deep so he could feel everything that was radiating out from my heart. We were both breathless by the time I forced myself to break the kiss.

I held Silver’s gaze for a long time because I wanted to memorize every second of this moment. I knew Jace and Ronan were still in the room, but I didn’t care. I kept my eyes on Silver as I asked, “Ronan, how fast can that anesthesiologist get here?”

“Tonight. She can perform the procedure first thing in the morning,” he responded simply.

“Then let’s do it,” I said and then I was kissing Silver again. I faintly heard the glass door to the room sliding open and then closed again, so I knew we were alone. “Come here,” I urged Silver. He didn’t hesitate to climb over the safety rail, but he was very careful as he fitted his body against mine.

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