Dom X - the Complete Box Set

  The father left me alone after pointing everything out, and I started looking through closets and drawers, making a mental list of the things I'd brought with me, as well as the things I would need to get. Then I cautiously made my way back downstairs and out to the car to get my things. Part of me was relieved when I made it there and back without seeing X again, but I couldn't deny that another part of me was slightly disappointed. My insides were still tense from his words, and I wanted to know if he'd been sincere when he'd said he wanted me to go.

  If he didn't want me here, honestly and truly wanted me to leave, then I didn't think I was the person the priest needed after all.

  The thought that X might not have been thinking about me as much as I'd been thinking about him bothered me more than I cared to admit. Father O'Toole had been so sure that X would care about what I had to say, about my presence, that I'd believed I hadn't imagined the connection we'd shared back in Texas.

  Now I wasn't so sure.

  * * *

  As the weekend wore on, I began to think that my parents were right and this was a giant mistake. I didn't see X again until Saturday morning when Father O'Toole told me at breakfast that I should go to the therapy room to meet with the temporary nurse who would be filling me in on the progress X had made in the week since I'd seen him last.

  Hador Kotcheff was a straightforward, competent nurse who seemed to be impervious to the insults X was heaping on him even as I walked into the room. They both looked up as I got closer, and I couldn't have gotten more different responses. X's entire expression hardened, his azure eyes going cold. Hador gave me a professional smile and came over, holding out his hand.

  “You must be Nori,” he said.

  I nodded as I shook his hand. “I am. I understand you're going to tell me what I need to know?”

  “I've been here the past few days, but I heard you were one of his nurses in Texas, so you're at least familiar with his previous treatment.”

  “I am,” I started to say.

  X cut me off. “I'm sitting right here. You two might try talking to me instead of about me.”

  I looked over at him, keeping my tone cool as I spoke, “If you have anything to add that isn't a complaint, I'm listening.”

  Hador's lips twitched as X glared at me for a moment before looking away. Apparently, he wasn't going to be any more well-behaved today than he was yesterday.

  I turned back to Hador. “Any complications in the past week?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing except the sloppy dressings he applied himself after taking a shower.”

  Right. The shower. The image of X's lean body, those defined muscles, the water...

  I gave myself a mental shake and hoped that my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. I shouldn't have been thinking about X that way, not even if I intended to leave at the end of two weeks. Granted, I wasn't exactly going to be his nurse, but I still needed to maintain a professional distance.

  Except the fact that I was here said that I was already caring too much.

  “The room is really well stocked,” Hador continued. He stepped around the hospital bed where X was sitting, jaw clenched, face stony.

  “How do I order more supplies?” I asked, forcing myself to look away from him.

  Hador gestured toward a computer at the end of the counter. “It's set up to record all of the stats you take so you don't have to count on a paper or your memory. Father O'Toole also has an account set up for medical supplies. It automatically charges the trust for whatever you order.”

  I wondered if Father O'Toole had measures in place to prevent anyone from mis-using the account, or if he was just that trusting. I hoped it was the former, even if it had only been a week that he'd had things set up. Someone could seriously take advantage.

  “Anything that needs refrigerated or frozen, that goes here.” Hador tapped the small mini-fridge. “It's mostly ice packs.”

  I nodded, not saying anything as I made mental notes about where things were. I knew I wouldn't remember them all, but I'd, at least, have an idea.

  “I was just getting ready to finish putting on the bandages,” he said. “If you'd like to take a look.”

  I wanted to say no, to leave X in his sullen mood and hope that he'd be better on Monday when it was just me and him. I couldn't balk though, and I knew it. I had to face it head-on, so I nodded.

  By the time we were finished, the polite smile I'd kept on my face felt like it was going to crack. Hador had kept his professionalism and hadn't reacted to any of the nasty, snide things that X had said. I supposed it was a bit easier for him since he knew he wouldn't have to deal with X for much longer. Me, on the other hand, was getting a good look at what I had to look forward to if I decided to stay.

  I walked with Hador to the door a half hour later. When we reached it, I expected him to leave with a polite farewell, but instead, he paused and looked down at me with a concerned expression on his face.

  “I worked at a hospital for ten years before moving to home healthcare,” he said. “And it's a completely different thing. At a hospital, you have staff to support you and you make rounds and have shifts, but here, from what I understand, you're going to be on your own, living here.”

  “I am.” I twisted my fingers together. The nerves I'd been trying to keep down were threatening to burst out.

  “I don't know how well you knew him at the hospital,” Hador continued. “But he's in a dark place, Nori. He's not going to be easy to care for alone.”

  My stomach tightened and I suddenly felt sick. I'd been sixteen when Logan had come home, unrecognizable. I knew all too well how bad things could get. Mom and Dad had tried to shield me, but I'd known more than I should have. And then...occasionally at work, I'd had flashes of memory, but this...what was happening here was feeling too much like deja vu.

  I wasn't going to let it end the same way.

  “Thank you,” I said, my voice firm. “I'll be fine.”

  Hador gave me a searching look, as if trying to decide whether or not I was posturing or actually confident. It was a bit of both, so I hoped he'd see whatever it was he was looking for. Finally, he nodded.

  “If you need any help, Father O'Toole has my number.”

  “Thanks.” I shook his hand again and watched as he left.

  For a moment, I rested my forehead on the door, wondering if I'd made a huge mistake. After a minute, I headed upstairs. I couldn't go back into that room, not even to let X know where I'd be. If he needed something, he was definitely healthy enough to find me.

  I needed to get out of my head, remind myself why I'd taken this job. When I officially started work on Monday, I needed to be clear-headed and unemotional. I had to be able to see the big picture in order to make a smart decision.

  I took a shower, letting myself enjoy the multi-spray shower head as well as the vastly larger bathroom than I had back in Texas. I put on comfortable clothes and settled on the stylish sofa in my maybe-temporary living room and attempted to find something on tv to numb my mind. I already knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on a book.

  After an hour, I had to concede that I couldn't focus on tv either. I sighed as I turned it off. I had to get this shit out of my head or I'd never be able to sleep.

  I needed to talk to somebody. It couldn't be either of my parents because they'd take it as a concession that I was wrong to move. I'd spend more time defending my motivations than I would actually assessing things logically. For years now, there had been one person who I'd gone to when I needed to talk, one person who I considered my closest friend.

  Tanner.

  I'd tried hard not to go to him, not to push the friendship we were able to end with. I didn't want to lose that, even if I didn't love him. Times like now were why.

  I picked up my phone, hesitated for a moment longer, and then pulled up his number. The phone rang twice before he answered.

  “Nori?”

  “Hi.” I closed my eyes, a lump suddenly in my
throat.

  “Are you okay?”

  He still knew me well enough to ask after I'd spoken only one word.

  “Not really.” I felt the burn of tears against my eyelids. “I was wondering if you had some time to talk.”

  “Of course.”

  The kindness in his voice undid the last of my control and everything came pouring out. I told him about my parents and my job offer, about how I'd moved across the country to take care of a man I barely knew...but felt like I wanted to know more.

  Except I didn't.

  Maybe.

  I didn't know anymore.

  All of it came out in a rush, and he just listened at first. Let me get it all out.

  When I finally fell silent, he spoke, “Babe, you know you could've come to me to talk this through before you left.”

  I loved the fact that there was absolutely nothing sexual or condescending about anything he said. It was friendship and compassion, exactly what I needed right now. I felt some of the tension inside me start to ease.

  “I thought I knew what I was doing,” I said. “But now...I don't know.”

  “Why did you move?” he asked. “I know you gave me all of your reasons leading up to it, but if you had to choose one thing that would be your make-or-break reason for agreeing to fly to a city where you don't know anyone, and take a job within forty-eight hours of being offered it, what would it be?”

  I made myself answer without thinking about it. “X.”

  “The soldier.” It wasn't a question.

  “I can't let him...” My voice cracked. “He's just so broken, Tanner. I can't...”

  “I know.” His voice was soft. “I know.”

  I brushed at my cheeks. He did know. He completely understood what I meant without me having to say all of it.

  “If you came home, what wouldn't you be able to live with?” he asked.

  “If something happened to him,” I said without having to think about it.

  “Can you live with what will happen if you stay?”

  I didn't answer this one right away. I had to think about it. Think about whether or not I could handle living here, doing work that I hadn't done before. Putting up with the shit I knew X would throw my way.

  Could I live with those things?

  If they meant I never had to live with X hurting himself, then yes, I could.

  “Yes,” I said finally, my voice soft.

  “Then you know what you're supposed to do.”

  We exchanged a few more words, mostly pleasantries that proved we still cared about each other, and then ended the call. I set my phone aside and sat for a few minutes in the silence. I didn't know if Father O'Toole was still here or if X was awake, but this floor – my floor – was quiet. I let myself soak it in, all of it.

  The job.

  The city.

  X.

  I let out a slow, long breath.

  I wasn't going anywhere.

  Chapter Eleven

  Xavier

  I was pissed off when I'd found out that Father O'Toole hired Nori without even discussing it with me. Seeing her had been...I couldn't say I hadn't loved seeing her again. But it hadn't been easy.

  And it hadn't gotten any easier.

  All weekend, I'd been torn between wanting to see her and wanting to stay hidden in my room, like some sort of freak, the monster my nightmares said I was.

  I'd never been a big reader, and being stuck in a bed for most of three months hadn't really changed that, but it hadn’t kept Father O'Toole from reading to me when I would just lie in bed and do nothing. One of those books was The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

  The relevance of the subject matter hadn't been lost on me.

  The irony was, I may have been a monster on the outside like Quasimodo, but I was far from as pure as heart as that noble character as could be.

  Which meant I definitely didn't deserve sympathy or compassion. And I sure as hell didn't deserve love. Especially not from someone like Nori. No one was perfect, I knew, but she was a genuinely good person. Kind. Strong. The sort of person who deserved a man just as good and strong.

  The worst part of it was, the more I tried to convince myself I wasn't good for her, the more I wanted her. And that didn't make the weekend any easier.

  The one time I'd seen her was for a short time on Saturday, when she came in with Hador. I'd wanted to see her smile, laugh. I wanted her to be here because she wanted to be near me. But I knew that wasn’t her reasoning. She was here because I was broken, and she'd been hired to try to fix me. The more that thought resounded in my head, the more I hadn't been able to look at her without seeing her pity.

  When she'd sequestered herself upstairs, I'd allowed myself to fall deeper into the darkness than ever before. I hadn't even bothered to get out of bed yesterday, and I probably wouldn't have done it today if my physical therapist wasn’t coming in. Kipp Hendy was the only person Father O'Toole had hired who I didn't despise and who didn't care what I said to him, or how awful I behaved. If I wasn't down in the room to meet him, he would've come into my bedroom and dumped water on me.

  I knew that because he'd done it last week.

  So, even though I didn't want to, I forced myself down the hall and into the therapy room to wait for Kipp to let himself in. I didn't, however, bother to shower. I didn't give a damn if Kipp thought I smelled bad.

  I was in the room alone for less than five minutes before Kipp arrived. He was a little older than me and had served in the Navy to pay for college. When he graduated, he'd turned his attention to treating veterans from all branches of the military. He might not have been army, but he got it in a way no one else could've.

  “Did you do your stretches over the weekend?” he asked as he entered the room. When I didn't answer, his pale eyes narrowed. “I'm not wasting my time on some pansy-ass who doesn't want to work for it. They teach you that in the army?”

  I glared at him. I knew what he was doing and why, but I let it motivate me anyway. “I'll show you pansy-ass,” I grumbled. “Let's get this over with.”

  I was half-way through the usual series of stretches when I heard someone knock on the open door. My concentration slipped as I turned. Father O'Toole had gone into the city first thing this morning. There was only one person it could be.

  “Excuse me.” Her voice was professional but warm as she looked at Kipp. “I'm Nori Prinz.”

  Kipp straightened and grinned. “Kipp Hendy.” He walked over to her and put out a hand.

  I scowled when she took it, giving him a smile that was completely unnecessary. I stopped what I was doing and waited for her to acknowledge my presence. But she didn't. She kept looking and smiling at Kipp as he explained to her the different exercises he had me doing.

  I was suddenly and painfully aware of how good-looking Kipp was, with his copper hair and stupid smile. He wasn't like Zed, the sort of attractive that turned heads everywhere he went, but he had the kind of chiseled good looks that women liked.

  I pushed myself up and headed over to the speed bag he'd set up in the corner. I'd never really been one for boxing, but I had to admit, hitting something was a lot more satisfying than weight-lifting or running. Especially if I was picturing people's faces on the bag. Usually, it was my asshole father, but at the moment, there was someone else I wanted to hit more.

  “What're you doing?” Kipp asked before I started on the bag. “We need to work on your leg and side.”

  “My leg's fine,” I snapped. I did a deep knee bend and managed not to wince when the skin on my hip pulled. “See.”

  “Bullshit.” Kipp glanced at Nori and gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If I got offended by everyone who swore around me, I'd never be able to work.” She glanced at me, but her gaze didn't hold. “Besides, I've let a few slip myself, thanks to problem patients.”

  Kipp's smile widened. “Let me show you the data entry for X's daily PT.”

  He motioned toward
the computer and, as she walked in front of him, I watched his eyes slide down to her ass, lingering there for a moment before coming back up.

  My hands curled into fists and I turned back to the punching bag. If he was going to ignore me, then I would do what I wanted. My entire arm protested as I bent it slightly, the tissue pulling taut. I ignored it and started to work the bag with my right hand, alternating in my left every so often. The rhythm was choppy, awkward, and instead of making me feel better, it just made me feel worse.

  I'd been in great shape before the accident, in the top ten for every physical fitness test the army had given. Now, I was lucky if to make it through a single set of stretches without breaking into a sweat.

  “X, lay off the bag.” Kipp interrupted my thoughts. “We need to get your side and back stretched.”

  I hit the bag more violently than necessary. “Well, if you'd stop flirting with her and start doing your fucking job, maybe I wouldn't have to do this shit on my own.”

  I had my back to them, so I didn't see their faces, but for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Kipp broke the silence.

  “Head back over to the bed so I can show Nori the stretches I have you doing.” His voice was even, without even a hint of annoyance.

  For some reason, that pissed me off even more. I stomped over to the bed, aware that I was behaving like a child. “You want to see? Fine, see.” I yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it onto the floor, waiting for one of the two of them to say something about my actions.

  Neither one did.

  Kipp moved over to stand at the side of the bed, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were on Nori. “Father O'Toole mentioned that you have some background in physical therapy.”

  “I do.”

  I risked a glance at her, but she was watching him. I hadn't known that. Then again, I didn't know anything about her that she hadn't volunteered. I'd never asked about her life, about anything. I'd been so caught up in my own shit that it'd never occurred to me to find out more about her. Not even after I'd found myself thinking about her more and more.