Page 94 of Alpha & Omega

“Sir?” Alpha laughed. “I’m not that old yet. It’s nice to meet you, Oliver.”

He was much more outgoing than Hudson, which made them a good match. They balanced each other.

We talked with them for a while before they headed off to help out.

I leaned into Kingston and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Should I call you ‘sir’ the next time we fool around?”

He snorted a laugh, nearly choking on his punch. “Don’t you dare! Besides, you’re older than me.”

“Then you can callme‘sir.’ I wouldn’t mind.”

He rolled his eyes as we both laughed.

The day was an absolute success. By five in the evening, it had wrapped up and shutdown. His Rejects gathered around Kingston, and they all held each other for a long time. They finally pulled away before it got overly emotional.

“I love you all,” Kingston said. Then he ruffled Aiden’s hair, who pretended to scowl. “You, too, Aiden.”

The young man turned around to hide his smile, but Ajax saw it and pulled him into a hug.

Between the fundraiser and donations, we raised eighteen thousand dollars. It didn’t cover everything, but it got Kingston caught up on rent with enough for next month, paid off some of his medical expenses, and there was enough left over to pay for his part of the prosthetic. It didn’t fix everything, but it allowed Kingston to relax and have some financial breathing room. Hopefully, the event would bring more people to his bar from now on.

“Howareyoufeelingafter everything that’s happened, Kingston? It’s been a month since your accident,” my therapist said. She was an attractive older woman with gray hair cut into a pixie with kind green eyes.

Dr. Michelle Ambrose had been my therapist for years. If anyone knew my deepest, darkest secrets, it was her. And she’d never steered me wrong. I should’ve come to see her sooner, but when you’re so buried in your own shit, you don’t want to do much of anything. Depression was a slog to get through. It was only through the push and uplifting from Harley and my family that I got myhead out of my ass.

“Physically?” I shrugged. “I still hurt off and on. The phantom pain is getting better, but there are moments when I have to brace myself, feeling like my leg and foot are being set on fire or electrocuted.”

“You’re keeping up with your mirror therapy?”

“Yes, every day.”

“And how are you emotionally?”

My sigh was heavy. “Much like my phantom pain. Some days are better than others. Not having my leg and having to readjust my life hasn’t been easy. Some days, I get by just fine and try to normalize things, but there are times my loss leaves me suffocated. My mind toys with me, reminding me I’ll never skate as I once did. I’ll never be a part of a championship again or keep up with my family. I’m still financially struggling, but it’s getting to where I can breathe a bit easier. Losing my independence has been even harder. I’ve been so used to doing everything on my own. But mostly, I hate looking at my leg. I hate not being able to see it anymore. I hate being off balance all the time. And I especially hate when I’m itchy, but have nothing to scratch.”

“These are all reasonable feelings, King. Losing a part of your body is nothing to scoff at. It can make you feel perpetually incomplete. But remember that this doesn’t define the man you are. The man who took in a bunch of skaters when they had no one. The man who gave them a safe place to work. The man who supports the LGBTQ+ community. The man who will still be remembered for his skateboarding skills. And a man who finally has love in his life. What I’m saying is to try to remember who you are and all the good you’ve done. It can be easy to forget when you’re struggling, but you’re still you, and you’re still special. It’s no easy thing climbing out of the foster care system to be successful.”

I nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, I’m trying. Harley and my family also like to remind me of that. But then there’s the fear… I’m still really struggling with getting in a car. I mean, I can do it if I have to, but I feel the panic to the point where I can barely think and breathe. I’m not sure I’ll be able to buy a new car and drive again. It’s easier to be a passenger, I think, than a driver.”

“I think with continued therapy, you’ll be able to do it once more. It’s not unusual to be nervous or even have panic attacks after an accident such as yours. But you’re on the right track, Kingston. You’re realigning your priorities,moving forward instead of backward, and focusing on what’s important. The rest will come with time. Do you feel you would do better on antidepressants?”

I’d been on them before, but I assumed she asked me because she felt I didn’t really need them.

I huffed a humorless laugh. “No, I’m on enough drugs as it is. Honestly, I already feel better talking about this. Talking to Harley helps, too. He always listens and never judges… I’m not sure what I would’ve done without him.”

“I’m pleased you’ve found someone who makes you happy.”

“Thanks. Me, too. He does more than make me happy. He makes me feel whole, even when I’m not. He’s been a goddamn saint. I love him.”

After strength and range-of-motion physical therapy, I sat in the kitchen to eat a sandwich Harley had made while he took a shower. He had to work tonight since it was Friday.

My body grew stronger every day, and all this therapy got me ready for walking and using a prosthetic. It was tedious, but where I was reluctant at first and wanted to resist, I was eager to get around without crutches. I’d still have to use them now and again, and probably for the rest of my life, but soon, I’d have more mobility freedom.

As I listened to the water run through the old building as Harley showered, I realized there was something important missing in my life, and it wasn’t my leg. It was Harley. He took such good care of me while juggling my business, his business, and Hudson. I swore he became my fucking superhero. And he never once complained. Even worse, I rarely asked how he was doing through all this, so wrapped up in my own issues. I felt like such a shit.

I plopped my sandwich on my plate, determined to give him something in return. I couldn’t give much, but maybe my love would be enough for now.

Grabbing my crutches, I hobbled back to my bedroom, stripped out of my clothes, and headed toward my bathroom. After leaning my crutches against the wall next to the shower, I pulled back the curtain. Harley suddenly turned around wide-eyed before his expression softened when he smiled.

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