Page 11 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part 2

When the dry heaving has subsided, Charley takes the pan into the bathroom and rinses it clean. Great, this is exactly what I need, her waiting on me hand and foot like this, cleaning bedpans full of vomit.How sexy.

I would do the same for her in a heartbeat if the situation was reversed.

When she re-enters the room, she frowns at me and I have to look away. With her around, it’s too easy to fall right back into what we were. The need to be with her, to hold her—protect her—is too strong.

Sweat from tossing my guts up is forming on my forehead. I wipe it away with the back of my hand as I sit back and also wipe my mouth. There is an awful sour taste now and I could really use a toothbrush. Charley hands me a styrofoam cup with a straw that’s bent in my direction.

“Have some water,” she orders as she props her ass on a sliver of the hospital bed. Once settled, her hand seeks my leg, and she wraps her fingers around my calf. This ridiculous gown I’m wearing leaves me naked from the waist down, but I’m covered in blankets. I wish I wasn’t because I’d love to feel her touch on my bare skin.

I’m sure if you gave in and told her, she’d touch more than just your leg.Nope, not going to happen.

“Thank you,” I say and take a couple gulps, the cool liquid refreshing as it slides down my dry, scratchy throat. The pillow behind me is calling my name as sleep beckons me. Sleep is the last thing I want. I need to get out of here. The charges are piling up and I’m sure the bill is already through the roof. Hospitals are good for that. I’d bet water is a hundred dollars an ounce. “So, when can I leave?”

“The nurse will want to see that you’re awake and check your vitals again. Then she said she can draw up your release papers and take your IV out. Just press that button”—she points to a little button that has a red cross on it—“to call her and get it started.”

The nurse is really nice. She confirmed I am indeed an idiot, but it’s not for landing myself in here. No, she thinks I’m an idiot for not letting Charley in. She even stated it in front of Charley so that she could agree with her. I explained that it’s complicated, to which she laughed and told me it didn’t look very complicated, that Charley was here to take care of her man. She said it looked pretty standard, if you asked her.

I didn’t.

Now, I’m sitting in a goddamn wheelchair waiting for Charley to pull her Jeep up to the curb.

“As much as I enjoy having you and Charley around, Riggs, let’s not get into any more fights, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Trust me, after this I hope you’ll never see me again. I can’t afford to come here, as much fun as I’ve had. No offense to you.”

“No need to worry about that. A donation to the hospital paid for your stay,” she mentions. I stare forward, looking at nothing in particular as my fingers curl into fists.

Fucking Jensen. I should’ve known. When is he going to mind his own fucking business?

“Dang, your friends really know you well. They said you’d get mad when you found out.” The nurse laughs, the sound soft and dainty. “A tip, Riggs, coming from a woman who sees many people without a support system…”

“No offense, but I don’t need any tips,” I grumble.

“Let them help you.” She lays her hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, then she walks to the Jeep as Charley stops it and opens the passenger door. After releasing the brake on the wheelchair, she pulls it closer.

I’m a little wobbly when I stand, my balance iffy, and it takes a second for the pounding in my throbbing head to subside so I can see straight. The nurse backs the chair away and Charley moves in to offer silent support, guiding me into the seat.

“Mr. Sutton, get lots of rest, stay hydrated, and stop being so grumpy. You’ve got a good woman here.” She pats Charley’s shoulder, and I chew the inside of my cheek. People are really getting on my nerves with this shit.

“I know, but she’s not my woman.” I mumble and rest my head back and close my eyes, already wanting her to go away so I can sleep again. The thought makes me cringe. I can’t be comfortable enough around Charley like this. If I sleep, I am only proving her point that I can’t do this on my own.

“If you have any questions, call us.”

“We will, thank you,” Charley says, then a moment later, she is climbing into the driver’s seat. “Just relax, Jester. I’ve got you. Lean the seat back and keep your eyes closed.”

The words I want to say are on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her I’m not her Jester, that she can’t use nicknames like that, but my eyes are already closing and my consciousness is slipping away.

Fuck.

CHAPTER5

RIGGS

The memoriesof how I got into my room are vague and I’m sure it’s been years since my hospital visit, but when I open my eyes that evening, my headache has lessened. Though there isn’t much light in the room because Charley has placed something over the window to black it out, I can already tell my eyes aren’t as sensitive either. Thank fuck, because that shit sucked. I’m achy now, probably from the lack of activity, but the bruises on my torso and face don’t want me to move much.

Soft snores break through the silence from right next to me, and I can’t help but groan. She’s in my damn bed? Well, not in it, but on it. Why is she still here? She has class and practice. Not my concern, really, but I make it. I don’t need her changing her schedule on account of me. She doesn’t need to do anything for me.

Before I fell asleep, she made sure I had everything I could need, then I told her to leave and let me sleep.

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