Page 23 of BillionHeir
I nod, comfortable with the white lie given the fact that he does look slightly better.
“We need to get you upstairs and into bed. I don’t want to have a repeat of what happened earlier.” I look over at Maxwell’s friends. “I would prefer if you guys could do the heavy lifting. He really is quite weak right now, and all this moving has tired him out considerably.”
“No problem,” Tristan says, pushing up his sleeves in preparation.
I size up the two men, each towering over six feet tall with more than their fair share of muscles, and deem them fit enough for the job. They are far more suited to this than I could ever be. I am a good nurse, but when it comes to lifting something heavy, I am out of my league.
“Whatever you need,” Liam says, walking over to Maxwell’s side without an ounce of annoyance or frustration. It is clear that these men are very close.
“You ready for this, man?” Tristan asks Max who looks slightly paler at the thought of being manhandled all the way up the stairs.
He nods. “It is not like I have another option.”
“We got this, Max,” Liam says, reassuring his friend.
“Now,” I say, preparing to instruct them on the proper way to pick him up. “This needs to be done carefully. Use one arm to support his back, and one under his knees to support his legs.”
“Like a chair?” Tristan asks, frowning as he tries to envision what I am describing.
I hold my arms out, miming the position I want them to use. “Yes, exactly.”
“Oh, that will be easy,” Liam says, locking eyes with Tristan. “You ready?”
“Let’s do this,” Tristan confirms.
“You know the way to his room?” I ask, confirming that the men know where they are going.
“Of course. You think we are new here?” Tristan asks confidently.
That draws a chuckle out of Max who has been quietly watching us talk. I get the sense that he is usually the one calling the shots. But when it comes to his medical care, I am the expert. I appreciate that he is letting me take control here.
“Okay, easy now,” I say as they gingerly lift their friend off the couch. Maxwell grimaces but doesn’t complain. If his injuries are any indication, he is probably in a great deal of pain right now, especially after the long car ride. His self-control is impressive, I will give him that.
The two men slowly make their way to the stairs with Maxwell suspended between them. They are lifting a fit, 6’ 2”, 200-pound man, and yet, neither of them looks like they are breaking a sweat. In fact, they both have a Zen-like look of ease on their faces, as though lifting such weight is an everyday occurrence. I don’t know what they do for a living, but I am sure it isn’t some kind of construction. Clearly these men spend a lot of time in the gym, and though Maxwell has lost quite a bit of weight due to the accident, he is no slouch himself.
I follow them up the stairs closely, prepared to help if needed, but I don’t really know what I would do if these three men came tumbling down the stairs on top of me.
“You alright, bro?” Tristan asks as they make it to the large set of stairs that leads to the second floor.
“Wishing I would have taken that contractor up on the offer to put in an elevator,” he says, deadpan.
Everyone laughs.
“You never think you are going to need an elevator, until you need an elevator,” Maxwell continues as the men efficiently carry him up the stairs. I can tell that he is in a great deal of pain, but he is handling it like a champ and still managing to make a joke.
I never imagined him as much of a jokester when I met him at the rehab. Actually, I thought he had a stick shoved so far up his arse that there was no way he could laugh about anything. I am only now realizing how unfair that was. He had just been through a traumatic experience. It makes sense that he was lashing out at anything and everything that frightened him.
“Nearly there, now,” Liam says when they reach the top of the stairs without incident.
They carry him down the hallway, navigating through a set of double doors at the end, and then delicately set him down on the bed.
I came in earlier while Maxwell was sleeping on the couch and got the room prepared for him with what he had available.We still need some equipment, like a shower chair and potentially a walker, but I was told that his assistant ordered what I needed.
“Thank you,” I say to the men as they step back from the bed.
I take their place, pulling the covers over Maxwell and making sure he is settled in the oversized bed of the enormous room. I am starting to sense a theme in this place.
I give him his nightly medications and offer him a glass of water I filled earlier. Once I am sure that he is as settled in as he is going to get, I turn to his two friends.
