Page 8 of The Neighbor's Son

It was also really cute when his face would turn red.

I wolf down my tasteless food and hurry back out to greet my next patient. Riko Valentine scowls, long legs sprawled out in front of him, as he sits in a waiting chair.

This is the second time this week to see Riko. He recently suffered a grade II hamstring strain, and like every teenager, is in a hurry to get back to the soccer field. Unfortunately, the human body doesn’t work on sheer willpower alone. His injury wasn’t severe enough for surgery, but he’ll need repeat sessions to get him back to where he needs to be.

“You got to leave school early,” I say, gesturing for one of the therapy tables. “Why are you pouting?”

He grunts as he slowly rises to his feet, not bending his right knee. As much as he tries to hide it, I notice the slight grimace of pain.

“I’m not pouting,” he states, voice booming, as he limps over to the table. “Just over this shit.”

An elderly woman recovering from wrist surgery frowns at his language. I would usher him into one of the private rooms because he’s so loud, but they’re all full.

“I know,” I tell him kindly. “We’re going to get you fixed in no time.”

Once he settles on the table, I begin working on him with a soft tissue mobilization massage. With gentle movements, I knead the tightness in his hamstring. This will help with the blood flow so we can stretch it in a bit.

“Fuuuuuuck,” he cries out. “You’re a sadist, woman.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I’ve barely started. Don’t be a baby.”

He grits his teeth, thankfully keeping his big mouth shut for a minute, as I increase my massage intensity. I know he wants to get back to playing soccer, but he’s in a lot of pain. Unless we address the issue and get it to heal, he’ll only make things worse.

Eventually, I’m able to reduce some of the stiffness in his hamstring. Now on to the next part.

“I want you to relax while I stretch you,” I instruct. “Don’t tense up, even if it hurts. I’ll go slowly.”

I start with a straight leg raises stretch and slowly lift his leg until his face twists in pain.

“Too much.” He curses again, earning a few more nasty looks. “Why are you so cruel?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not taking it past what you can handle. We’re going to hold it here for a few seconds. All we’re doing is lengthening the muscle.”

Sophia grabs a rolling chair and wheels it over to us. Riko groans again, this time because of her.

“A sadist and a psychopath. What do I owe the honor?” he grumbles. “Seriously, don’t you have other people to torment?”

Sophia laughs. “No way. I only torment babies and you’re the only one crying right now.”

“Not crying.”

Drew stalks over to us, grabs the back of Sophia’s chair, and wheels her over to his office. Riko praises Drew for being “the real MVP.”

The next half hour he curses at me and his stupid leg, but by the end, when I’m no longer pushing his muscles to their limits, he’s back to his happy self.

“Hope to see you never, Casey,” he says as he leaves.

Our receptionist, Jenna, grins evilly at him. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re scheduled for the day after tomorrow.”

We both laugh as he leaves, shooting us the bird.

Work is fun. If only I could stay here all day. It’s when I go home, everything is hard.

The house is so quiet.

Not that Derek was an especially noisy man. There’s a certain emptiness that I can’t seem to fill with just me. It sucks. Really sucks.

When I walk inside, though, a blur of orange darts past my feet, once again hiding out at my place.

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