He watched as Eric carefully lowered himself into the chair and raised his eyebrows in Joey’s direction.
“Like I said, I apologize in advance.”
“No need.” He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, clasping his hands across his stomach as it deflated in a long sigh.
“Please let there be something here,” Gideon muttered before opening the cabinet in the bathroom. He didn’t want to face the stairs again so soon, but he wasn’t having any luck finding what he needed besides a nearly empty bottle of vodka that he could use as a disinfectant if pressed.
He pulled open the cupboard door and sighed, his chin dropping to his chest. “Great.” It took him almost a minute to get back to the living room. “Sorry.” He grimaced against the pain. “I thought he’d have what we needed. I’m going to have to run to the store.”
“Run? Won’t that hurt?”
“Didn’t you say pain was subjective?”
“I said it wassometimessubjective.”
“I’m glad to see that, through your pain, you have a sense of humor.”
“You don’t?”
“It’s best if I stick to pragmatism for now. I’ll leave a note for my dad in case he wakes up.”
“You’re putting yourself through a lot for nothing. I don’t need anything.”
“Maybe you’re still in shock.”
“I was never in shock in the first place.”
“Then you’ll have to trust me. You haven’t seen your face yet. You’re in bad shape.”
“If you insist on going, I can’t stop you. But I’m telling you, it will be a wasted effort.”
“Let me worry about that.” He scratched around on the coffee table, settled on an abandoned envelope, then found a pen in a kitchen drawer. It dug into the paper but didn’t leave a mark. He tossed it in the garbage and tried another, which also didn’t work.
“You can leave your dad to me, you know,” Eric said.
Gideon’s laugh was breathy and uncertain. “Trust me on this one too.” He found a pencil, but the tip was broken off. He speared it into the garbage, then found a thick permanent marker. “He probably won’t wake, but if he does—” He finished the note and brought it to Eric. “Show him this.”
Eric read it, then folded it and laid it in his lap. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“And he’ll agree to read it?”
“Why wouldn’t he? He has a stranger in his house.If you tell him what happened, he’ll be curious enough.” Gideon turned for the door but stopped. “A word of warning. He’s not wearing anything underneath that blanket, so…”
“Ah. Got it. Thanks for the heads up.”
Gideon scanned the room, uneasy about leaving Eric alone with his dad. There was no way to know how either man might behave. He chewed on his lip but decided Eric was too injured to move from his spot in the chair.
Chapter 9
The pain radiatingup Gideon’s leg made it almost impossible to walk. His pant leg was tight around his knee where it was swollen. He gritted his teeth as he shuffled down the aisles and gathered the disinfectant and bandages along with a bottle of mild painkillers. If he could convince Eric to go to the hospital, he could get the professionals to assess both his body and his mind. But if not, the negative experience should be enough to convince him to move on.
By the time he returned to his dad’s, he had to lean all his weight on the railing to lift his good leg so he could drag the other up the step with the least amount of pressure.
Halfway up, he heard a bark of laugher. It sounded like his dad’s. He grunted, forcing himself to move faster. Sweat had formed on his forehead from the exertion and pain by the time he reached the door, and he nearly fell through as his weight propelled him forward.
Eric was sitting forward in the chair, saying, “And that’s when he fell through the floor.”