“How do you figure?” he asked, watching her as she climbed out of his wheelchair and grabbed his shampoo off the shelf.
“Why do you think it should have been you?” Sloane countered with a curious look as she squeezed some shampoo in her hand.
“Because they were just kids,” Chase said, taking another sip as she reached over and ran her hands through his hair.
“That doesn’t mean that you deserved to take their place,” Sloane said as he found himself closing his eyes as he savored the feel of her fingers running through his hair.
“It means that it was my job to protect them,” he said, deciding that they’d talked enough about this. “Are you going to stay?”
“I’m thinking about it,” she said, rinsing her hands off before she helped herself to his bottle of water.
“Fair enough,” Chase said, nodding as he leaned forward and rinsed his hair off.
“Are you going to hold up your end of the deal?” Sloane asked as he sat up, stealing his water back in the process.
“I’m thinking about it,” he said, watching as her eyes narrowed on him.
“You’re thinking about it?” Sloane asked with a mock glare as he finished off the water.
“Mmmhmmm, I’m thinking about it,” Chase said, handing her the empty bottle so that he could finish his shower.
I see,” Sloane murmured thoughtfully as she got up and placed the empty bottle in the small trash can by the bathroom sink.
“It depends,” he said, turning the shower off.
“On what exactly?” Sloane asked as she grabbed a towel off the shelf and handed it to him.
“On whether or not you can stop beating yourself up over what happened. It was a mistake and I’m not expecting it to happen again, but I can’t deal with you acting like it’s the end of the world,” Chase said, drying off.
“Fair enough,” Sloane murmured in agreement as she placed a towel on the seat of his wheelchair for him.
Nodding, he dropped the towel across his lap, reached over and grabbed hold of his wheelchair and transferred himself over. “Then I guess we have a deal.”
*-*-*-*
He was going to kill her, Sloane thought as she sat there, staring down at the iPad in her hands as she debated hitting “Send.”
“Are you planning on giving me back my wheelchair anytime soon, Pookie?” Chase asked as Sloane relaxed in the wheelchair that was surprisingly comfortable.
“Probably not,” she mumbled absently even as she glanced up to find Chase chuckling as he grabbed a twenty-five-pound weight and held it against his chest as he continued doing crunches.
For a moment, Sloane watched Chase as she sat there telling herself that she was crossing another line, but
She honestly didn’t care anymore.
He needed help and she was going to make sure that he got it. If she thought that any of the therapists that Melissa was shoving his way could help him, she wouldn’t worry, but since most of them ended up running out of the house crying or calling Chase an asshole, she needed to help him. With that in mind, Sloane returned her attention to the email that she was writing.
She didn’t know this therapist, but from everything that she’d read about him, he was probably Chase’s best hope. The problem was that he wasn’t accepting new patients yet. He was opening a private practice through Shadow House, a nonprofit therapeutic center aimed at helping people get through trauma, which would also be a perfect fit for Chase, but it wouldn’t be opening for another month.
She considered looking into seeing if anyone else could see him sooner, but she would rather have someone who focused on treating trauma patients work with Chase rather than someone who only offered it as part of an extensive list of services. Chase needed someone who was focused on trauma. Sloane wasn’t sure how she was going to convince this man to help, but she was going to try.
She double-checked the link to Chase’s story online, read through her email, and…hesitated as she glanced back down at Chase to find him pushing himself to get better, making her realize that she really didn’t have a choice. Slowly exhaling, she hit “Send.”
“Everything okay, Pookie?” Chase asked as she moved to close her email app only to find herself frowning when she saw an email from her boss with the name Joshua Wilkins in the subject line.
Wondering why her boss was writing to her about Joshua since she hadn’t worked with him in four years, Sloane opened the email and immediately wished that she hadn’t when she finished reading the first line. Slowly exhaling, she forced herself to read the rest of the email. When she was done, she released a shaky breath and climbed out of the wheelchair.
“Pookie?” Chase said, frowning as he watched her.
“I’m fine,” Sloane mumbled absently as her trembling hands dropped the iPad in Chase’s wheelchair and
“I’m fine,” she repeated, because she was fine, more than fine.
This was just part of the job, Sloane reminded herself as she found herself heading to the kitchen door. She needed to make lunch because that was also part of her job and that’s why she was here.
To do her job.
“Pookie?” Chase called after her. “Sloane?”
“I-I’m going to make lunch,” she mumbled hollowly as she made her way to the kitchen sink and…and…
This was just a job.
Sloane knew that the cancer could come back. She’d been prepared for that to happen, had told herself that it might happen, but she just didn’t think that it would happen this soon. She’d told herself that the happy little boy that used to make silly faces while he had chemo was going to be fine.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
The cancer came back and Joshua hadn’t been strong enough to beat it this time. It happened, Sloane reminded herself as she grabbed hold of the edge of the kitchen sink. Sometimes her patients died. It happened. It was sad, but it was part of the job.
This was just a job.
This was just a
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Chase said as he pulled her down onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s okay.”
Shaking her head, she choked out a sob. “I-I have to make lunch,” Sloane said, struggling to climb back off his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“No, you don’t,” he said softly as he held her tightly against him, kissing her forehead as she sat there thinking about Joshua, thinking about the way that he used to smile whenever they drove in the ambulance and the EMTs would put on the sirens just to make his day, the late-night movie marathons they used to have when the pain was too much, the way that he used to laugh when they raced wheelchairs down the hallway when they had to wait for an appointment, and
“I can’t keep doing this,” Sloane said, burying her face against Chase’s chest as she wrapped her arms around him while she lost it.
“I know,” Chase said, holding her tightly as she closed her eyes, wondering when it was going to stop hurting this much to lose a patient.
Chapter 16
Maryhale, Florida
“Why did you do that?” Kylie asked, watching helplessly through their office window as the unfortunate individual that the agency sent over for an interview stumbled toward his car while he struggled to hold it together.