Page 103 of My Secret Bandit

The heavy guilt piled high with anger felt horrible.

I needed to rid myself of it.

Fast.

“Okay. It’s not the end of the world, right? He’s fine, he’s going to get better. It could’ve been a lot worse. Honestly, we’re lucky he didn’t get trampled to death. And he needs us now more than ever. So. Let’s get our big girl panties on and do what we need to do.” The rambling was really more of a pep talk for myself than Xander, but he nodded along, anyway.

“That’s the spirit.”

I grabbed the comforter off the bed and walked toward the hall. Back downstairs, everyone had left and Mateo slept on the couch, his leg still propped up in the chair. I figured there was no way he’d be making it upstairs to the bedroom, so I brought our bed to him.

“Mateo.” I nudged him awake. “I need to move your leg.”

He nodded sleepily and lifted it. I moved the pillows from the chair to the inner corner of the L-shaped couch. I helped him twist his body, good leg tucked under the pillows and the injured one resting on top. Once he got settled, I fit myself against him, covering us both with the comforter while Xander made himself comfortable on the other end.

Sleep came easily, but it was far from peaceful.

My brain replayed the entire game. The pushing. The taunting. The hit. All of it on repeat. I sprung up in the dark room after Mateo’s scream sounded off, leaving me fully awake and breathing hard.

“Baby. What’s wrong?” Mateo asked groggily.

“Just a bad dream.” I shook my head, trying to catch my breath.

“Come here. Let me hold you,” he whispered against me, pulling me back down into his arms. He turned me to face him and rubbed circles against my back until he fell back to sleep.

I stayed awake the rest of the night.

I watched Mateo, watched my fingers twirl in his dark curls and trace the lines of his face until the sun came through the front door.

Eightdayspost-opandthings hadn’t been that great. The first day was easily the best out of all of them, and I was pretty sure that was because Mateo was still high on anesthesia. After that, a new Mateo introduced himself. This version was snarky and bitter and even a little rude. All characteristics I never thought lived inside the normally charming, lovable, adorably sexy Mateo.

In the eight days, we saw fits of cursing, tears, and more frustration than one person should have to go through in such a short amount of time.

And I hurt for him.

I knew the poor attitude wasn’t personally aimed toward me, Xander, or anyone else that stopped by to check on him. And while the ever-changing emotions were exhausting, we were patient with him.

Dr. Baker warned us after the surgery that he’d go through a kind of grieving process. So, we gave him space when he needed it and comforted him when he wanted that.

Easily the best part of our day was rehab. He hated being cooped up in the house, unable to do anything on his own. So the time spent in the training room, while obviously painful, provided a much-needed change of pace.

*text notification*

Jeffrey: Hey Flynn. Just doing my daily check-in. How are you guys holding up? I saw Pretty Boy at practice.

Me: Oh no.

Jeffrey: Damn right, oh no! I gave him an ear full for leaving you to handle everything by yourself. What if he falls??? Two hundred and thirty plus pounds is a hell of a dead weight to be trying to lift by yourself.

Me: Relax. No one’s falling. Xander needed to get back to work. Mateo isn’t his only responsibility.

Jeffrey: Yeah, whatever. I’m just looking out for my best and favorite employee.

Me: I appreciate that. When do you want me back?

Jeffrey: Take your time. I may miss you, and Kyle may be bugging me, but Mattie comes first, I guess. Just keep working. I’ll send you some leads I need researched to keep you busy.

Me: Thanks and be nice to Xander. Please.

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