Page 52 of Shattered

Finally when I have managed to calm myself down, I dry my face of all the tears. “Okay, what can we do?” I ask, still out of breath.

“I don’t know!” He’s pacing back and forth across the floor now.

“Ice! We’ll get you some ice.” I rush to the fridge and pull out an ice tray, emptying it into a bag.

He moves to sit on the couch, and I hand him the bag that he places on his crotch.

I sit down beside him and we both blankly stare at the TV. I turn to him. “So, three times?”

“Three fucking times! And that was after we had sex!”

“How many brownies did you eat?”

He breathes deep. “The whole plate.”

I turn my head away from him and cover my mouth to laugh.

“Ha ha ha,” he mocks bitterly, only making me laugh harder.

* * *

“It says here if you have an erection for four hours to seek medical attention. How long has it been?”

“Six hours,” he answers flatly.

I stand. “Let’s go.”

His eyes flash to mine, his eyebrows are drawn together, and his jaw is flexed with tension. “I can’t go out like this.” He lifts the bag of nothing but water now, showing me the tent in his boxers.

“If you like your little man you better. It says an erection lasting over four hours can permanently damage the penis.”

“What do you mean little? Look at this thing!” He raises his eyebrows indignantly.

I stifle back my laugh, knowing it will only anger him more. “Oh, I got an idea.” I rush around and grab my bag. I dig until I come up with a thin scarf. “Pull your boxers down.”

He rolls his eyes but pulls them down. I wrap the scarf around his thigh. “Okay, push it down against your leg.”

He does so and I wrap the scarf around it, tying it down. It tries to spring back up, but the scarf holds it in place. “There, now get your clothes on and let’s go.”

“I can’t stand up straight.”

“Why not?” I question.

“You try having your dick tied to your leg and see if you can stand up straight!”

I snicker but nod with understanding. “Okay, I’ll help you, sit down.”

He sits down and I grab his jeans and sit on the floor at his feet. “Slide your feet in.”

“You have them backwards.”

I look up at him. “A dare is a dare!”

His nostrils flair and he grounds his teeth together, but he allows me to put them on backwards.

I grab my purse and hold onto his arm, leading him to the car.

We get to the hospital a short while later and River tries turning around the second we’re inside and at the desk.

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