“I don’t need nothing from you, lady.” His eyes burned into mine.
“If you say so, but I’ll be out there making myself comfortable in your home.” I smiled as I walked out the door with the pills in my hand. Suddenly, I felt something hit my back. I turned around and saw the pill bottle lying on the floor. “You can throw whatever you want at me, but you cannot hurt me.”
I walked into the living room of the apartment and looked around. The walls were painted in a taupe color with dark wood flooring. Area rugs in a dark gray sat under the cream-colored couch that was displayed in front of the dark wood-trimmed picture window. A beautiful wood encased gas fireplace sat across from the couch with an eighty-inch large-screen TV that hung on the wall above it. The rectangular glass table that sat in front of the couch displayed hardcover books about hockey and it looked like it hadn’t been dusted in months. Walking into the kitchen, I took note of the light oak cabinets with the dirty black concrete countertops that were in desperate need of polishing. A round table that seated six sat on the opposite side in front of a large window, which captured the view of the Hudson River. I decided to take the first bedroom on the left. It was bigger than the other two guestrooms. I had my work cut out for me because I could tell that Logan Jackson was definitely going to be a challenge.
After scrubbing down the kitchen and putting things in their proper place, I heard Logan yell out to me.
“Hey. What the hell are you doing? What’s all that noise?”
“Cleaning up this mess in the kitchen. It looks like a grenade went off in here.”
“Nobody asked you to fucking clean. By the way, I need a pain pill. It’s time and I want to go to sleep.”
“If you want a pain pill, then you’re going to have to ask nicely for it.”
“Jesus Christ. Just bring me my fucking pill!” he yelled.
“No. You can either ask nicely or you can get your lazy ass out of bed and get it yourself.”
He mumbled something, but I couldn’t understand what he said.
“Can you please bring me a pain pill and some water?”
I smiled as I took a pill from the bottle and poured him a glass of water. Walking into his bedroom, I handed both to him.
“Was that so bad to ask nicely?”
“I’m warning you, Brooke.” He scowled as he shoved the pill in his mouth and chased it down with water.
“Well, at least you’re not calling me ‘lady’ anymore. That’s a start.”
He lay there, shaking his head with an angry look on his face. I’d give him three days. Three days to start helping himself, and if he didn’t, he was in for a rude awakening.
After I took a shower and changed into my nightshirt, my phone rang. It was Brandon.
“Hello.”
“How are things going?”
“Things are going just fine. He’s reacting and lashing out like I expected he would. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
“I need you, Owen, and the rest of your family to stay away from Logan for a while. Do not call him, answer his calls, or come visit him.”
“Why?” he asked with concern.
“Do you know the story of Helen Keller and her teacher Anne Sullivan?”
“Umm. Just bits and pieces.”
“Watch the movie tonight and you’ll understand why I asked you and your family to keep away from him for a while.”
“That’s ridiculous, Brooke.”
“Just do it, Brandon. You’re paying me to help your brother and that’s what I’m trying to do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
The next morning, I climbed out of bed and went to check on Logan. He was still asleep. Making my way to the kitchen, I made a pot of coffee and took down a mug from the cabinet. Hearing a moan come from his room, I went back to check on him.
“Good morning.” I smiled as I leaned up against the doorway with my arms crossed.
“I need a pill.”
“No you don’t.”
“What do you mean ‘No you don’t’? I said I need a fucking pill. I’m in serious pain.”
“Starting today, you won’t be needing your pills anymore. I’m starting you on something that will help you just as effectively without the dependency factor.”
He laughed. “You can’t do that.”
“Yes I can. You will also be drinking tea. No coffee. Caffeine is bad for healing purposes.”
“Are you on fucking drugs or something?” he asked with an irate tone. “If you think I’m taking and drinking your shit, you’re crazy.”
I shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you want to stay in pain, then so be it. But I will tell you this, by now, the pain is tolerable. You’ve grown to depend on your pain medication. Your brain is telling you that you’re in severe pain when you’re actually not. You have enough trauma in your life to deal with right now and adding a drug dependency on top of it isn’t cool.”
“Are you for fucking real?” He glared at me.
“I am.” I took the bottle and dumped all the pills into the toilet. As I flushed them down, I heard him yell “no” and a thump on the floor.
“You fucking bitch! I swear to God I’m going to kill you.”
Walking back into the bedroom, I saw him lying on the floor with a look of hatred and rage in his eyes as he stared at me.
“When was the last time your sheets were washed?” I asked as I stood at a distance.
“Fuck you!”
“You wish. Now answer my question.”
“Fuck you!” He flipped me off.
I shrugged. “Fine. You can stay on the floor.” I walked out of his room and into the kitchen, where I poured myself a cup of coffee.
Chapter 8
Logan
I couldn’t believe she flushed my pain meds down the toilet. Looking up at my nightstand, I saw my phone was out of reach. Stretching my arm out as far as I could, I still couldn’t reach it. I took in a deep breath. I was now a prisoner in my own home. How could my brothers do this to me? I would never forgive them for this. Needing to use the bathroom, I scooted my way to the wheelchair and struggled to climb into it. Feeling a hand firmly grip my arm, I jerked away.
“Don’t you ever fucking touch me!” I yelled in her face.
I wheeled myself into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. When I was finished, I wheeled myself back out to the bedroom and noticed my sheets were off my bed.
“What are you doing?!” I screamed.
“This room smells. Your bed smells and you smell. Do you have an extra set of sheets?”
“In the linen closet down the hall,” I spoke in an irate tone.
This was a losing battle. If I didn’t show some kind of decency, she would never put my sheets back on my bed and I would be stuck in this damn wheelchair. When she returned, she asked me to go back into the bathroom.
“Why?”
“Because I need to make your bed and I don’t like your attitude at the moment. So, if you want your sheets back on, you will go into the bathroom, shut the door, and wash up. I’ll call for you when I’m finished.”
Her attitude pissed me off. She was bossy in my home and I wasn’t standing for it. With that being said, she certainly was sexy. Especially in those cropped yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. I wheeled myself into the bathroom and shut the door. After a few minutes, she told me I could come out.
“Your bed is made.”
“Thank you.” I looked down.
“Do you need help getting back into bed? Or would you like to come into the kitchen while I make breakfast?”
“I don’t want to go out there. Could you just bring me some coffee? You already threw my pain pills away. Please don’t take my coffee away.”
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”
As soon as she walked out of the room, I wheeled myself over to the bed and climbed in it. My leg hurt and I needed my pills. Grabbing my phone, I dialed Bra
ndon. No answer. I dialed Owen. No answer. So I left messages for both of them to call me. A few moments later, Brooke walked in with a coffee mug and set it down on the nightstand.
“Cream? Sugar?” she asked.
“Just black.”
“That’s how I drink mine too.” The corners of her mouth curved up.
“Can you please get out of here and leave me alone? I really don’t give a damn how you drink your coffee.”
****
Brooke
Walking to my room, I changed my clothes and told Logan I was running down the street to the store to buy some groceries. He ignored me. He would be fine on his own for an hour. It wasn’t like he was getting out of bed anytime soon. I purchased what I could carry back, and when I returned to Logan’s apartment, I set the bags on the counter and cleaned out the refrigerator.
“Is there anything you want?” I asked as I stood in the doorway of his room.
“Yeah. Get the fuck out of my house,” he growled.
“Well, that’s not happening. Are you hungry?”
“No! I don’t want anything from you! What part of that do you not understand?”
“I understand more than you’ll ever know,” I spoke as I walked away.
As I finished putting the groceries away, there was a knock on the door, and when I answered it, a girl stood there staring at me.
“Hi. Is Logan here?”
“I’m sorry, but he can’t have any visitors right now.”
“Oh. Okay. Just tell him that Gretchen stopped by.”
I gave her a small smile and shut the door.
“Who was that?” he yelled.
“Some girl named Gretchen.”
“And you didn’t let her in?”
I folded my arms as I walked back to his room.
“No. You can’t have any visitors right now.”
“What? Why the fuck not? Who the hell do you think you are?”
“As long as you’re lying in that bed, you can’t see anyone.” I walked away as he started screaming obscenities at me.
****
A couple of days passed and Logan’s behavior was still the same. He had barely eaten and he was finally getting to the breaking point. The point he’d needed to get to in order for me to help him. He did nothing but yell all day long and still refused to get out of bed, except to use the bathroom.
Pouring some water into a glass, I took it to him with a couple of pills I had brought with me from California.
“Here,” I spoke as I handed him the pills and the glass of water.
“I don’t want them. I want my other fucking pills!” He threw the glass of water at the wall. “You had no right throwing those out!”
I didn’t say a word because this was the reaction I had expected out of him. I calmly walked over to the broken glass and began cleaning up the shattered pieces. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain down the side of my hand.
“Fuck!” I held on to it with my other hand as blood started to run through my fingers.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked.
Getting up, I walked into the bathroom without saying a word and grabbed a washcloth and a box of butterfly Band-Aids.
“Brooke, let me see if you’re okay.”
“You don’t get to ask me if I’m okay and you certainly don’t get to see if I’m okay,” I spoke with an attitude as I walked out of the bathroom and out of his room.
“Get back here!” he shouted so loud that it made my ears hurt.
I ignored him and went into the kitchen to examine my wound. After running it under warm water, I placed a butterfly Band-Aid over it and then I heard a loud thump. Rolling my eyes, I went to check on him and found him lying on the floor.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Is this what you fucking want?!” he screamed. “Is this what you wanted from me? Ever since you came here, you’ve made my life a living hell! You kept my family from seeing me, you sent my friends away, and you took the only thing away from me that kept me from feeling anything. I HATE YOU!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “You have no idea what it’s like. You don’t have a clue in that fucking head of yours what it’s like to have your dreams taken away from you. To have everything you’ve worked so hard for vanish in the blink of an eye as if it never existed. You don’t know the feeling of being so alone that you hate yourself and want to die. You don’t know what’s it’s like to be told that you’ll never walk normal or without assistance again and to get used to it. YOU DON’T HAVE A FUCKING CLUE!”
Finally, he broke and a piece of my heart broke with him.
“You’re wrong,” I softly spoke as I got down on my knees in front of him. “I do know what it’s like to feel so alone that you want to die. I do know what it’s like to be angry at the world and feel like you got dealt the worst possible hand in life. I do know what it’s like to have your dreams taken away from you and what it’s like to feel that rage inside and to want to give up. But I don’t know what it’s like to be told that I’d never walk normal or without assistance again. Because what I was told was that I’d never walk again in my life and to get used to sitting in a wheelchair and to adapt the best I could. But here I am today, walking, using both my legs when all the odds were against me.”
He looked up at me, his face red from anger and soaked with tears. This was what he needed. This was what I’d been waiting for and it hurt deep in my soul that I had to bring him to this point. I slowly wrapped my arms around him and held him, bringing his head down to my lap. He didn’t pull away.
“It’s okay. Let it all out. You need to let it all go before you can start healing,” I whispered as I ran my hand through his hair. “I know you feel like your life is over, but it’s not, and I can help you.”
As he lay in my lap and let the tears fall, the memories and pain I once felt crept up inside me.
“My life sucks,” he spoke in a soft tone.
“I know it does, Logan. I get it. I know your pain and every emotion you’re feeling.”
After a few moments of silence, he lifted his head and looked at me.
“I don’t understand. How are you—”
“Hard work, dedication, and the will to fight to get my life back.”
“I don’t have any fight left in me, Brooke.”
“Yes you do. You haven’t even begun to fight yet. You have more fight in you than you’re giving yourself credit for. You have a power inside you that you haven’t even tapped into.” I gave him a small smile as I wiped the tears from his eyes. “Let’s get you back in bed, and if you’re ready, we can talk and I’ll explain everything to you.”
He slowly nodded his head and I helped him back into bed.
Chapter 9
Brooke
After helping him get into bed, I went to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. Handing him the bottle, he gave me a slight smile.
“Seriously?
“You earned it. Would you mind if I sat next to you?”
“No. Please do.” He patted the side next to him.
Twisting the cap from the bottle, I set it down on the nightstand and then I tipped my bottle against his.
“Here’s to moving forward and starting the healing process. No more going back into the past.”
The corners of his mouth curved up. “I will admit that you’re the best-looking nurse I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed. “Thank you, but I’m not a nurse.”
“What? You’re not?”
“I’m a physical therapist. I’m going to work on getting your leg back to normal function so you can play hockey again.”
“The doctors said I’ll never play again. How am I supposed to skate when I’ll be walking with a limp the rest of my life?”
“First rule: never listen to what the doctors say. They stick by what they’re taught. The fight and the will to change what they said comes from inside you. If you believe you will never play hockey again, then you won’t. Only you
have the power to defy the odds and prove everyone who didn’t believe you could wrong.”
“I’m scared.” He looked down. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
“It’s normal to be scared, and you need to let your feelings out. If you don’t, they will hold you back during your rehabilitation.”
“Tell me about what happened to you.”
“I will, but first things first. You need to get cleaned up.”
He brought his hand up to his beard. “Yeah. I know. It’s been a long time.”
“I’ll tell you what, get in that wheelchair, and let’s go into the bathroom so I can shave off that messy beard of yours.”
His eyebrow raised as his eyes stared into mine. “You’re going to shave it off? Thanks, but no thanks. I can do it myself.”
“Rule number two: you have to trust me. If you don’t trust me, I can’t help you.”
“What if you cut me?” He smirked.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“How’s your hand? I’m sorry I threw the glass and you cut yourself.”
I held it up and showed him the Band-Aid. “All better.” I smiled. “Now come on; let’s get rid of that beard.”
****
Logan
Climbing out of bed, Brooke held the wheelchair steady while I climbed in. She was a beautiful woman and I felt horrible for the way I had treated her. She told me that I needed to trust her. Did I? I didn’t know her at all, so how could I trust her? I thought she was just another nurse my brother hired to take care of me. Boy, was I wrong. I never dreamed in a million years that she was a physical therapist. She was tough and she pulled things out of me that I’d kept locked up inside since the accident. I needed to know more about her and what happened to her. When she said that she was told she’d never walk again, but yet, here she was standing in front of me, I had a small, very small vision of hope. In a way, I was relieved and happy she was here because if anyone understood what I was going through, she did. My family, team, and friends didn’t get it. They always looked at me with pity, but Brooke never did. Never once since she’d been here did I see that in her eyes.
She wheeled me into the bathroom and faced the wheelchair in front of the mirror.