Once she was in the kitchen, she put her things down and decided to grab something to drink while she tried to make sense out of the mess that the previous nurses left behind. Four hours later, with the file that his sister had provided, Sloane had managed to put the pieces together and once she did…
She decided to confirm her suspicions.
After a quick search of the bathroom, his bedroom, and the kitchen, she found herself staring back down at the list of injuries that her newest patient had endured, noting the number of broken bones, stitches, and surgeries that had been needed to save his life and tried to wrap her mind around the fact that he’d been trying to self-medicate with Advil.
When she’d spotted all the half-empty bottles of Advil and over-the-counter antacids laying around the house last night, she’d been concerned, but now…now she was really hoping that she was wrong. Five phone calls and an hour later, she found herself sitting at the kitchen table, rubbing her temples as she slowly exhaled, wondering how he’d managed to go ten months without seeing a doctor, having physical therapy, or pain killers to help manage the excruciating pain that he had to be in.
A small chime had her throwing her cellphone an annoyed look before she looked back down at the notes that she’d made and–
“Robert seems happy that you’re back in town,” Chase said, drawing her attention to find him holding her phone.
“I see we have a problem with boundaries. Good to know,” Sloane drawled, biting back a sigh as she held her hand out in silent demand.
Ignoring her hand, Chase tossed her phone back on the table and headed to the fridge to grab another beer, making her wonder how much he was drinking. Probably too much, Sloane thought as she picked up her phone and reluctantly deleted the message before tossing it back on the table so that she could focus back on the list that seemed to be getting longer with every passing minute.
As much as she would love to see Robert while she was here, it didn’t look like that was going to be possible, not with everything that she had to do for this patient. She didn’t have time for herself, never mind seeing a guy that she’d gone out with once five years ago. Sighing heavily, Sloane rubbed her hands down her face, wishing that she’d taken time off like she’d originally planned before taking on another patient, but when she saw the job posting for Emerald, Florida, she’d decided to apply so that she could spend more time with her family. But right now, that didn’t look like it was going to happen. She’d been here less than a day and she was already exhausted, Sloane thought as she forced herself to focus back on the list that she needed to get through today.
“You’re wasting your time,” came the bored announcement as she glanced at her watch, wondering if she should go now on the off-chance that the pharmacy was able to fill his prescriptions early.
“And how’s that?” Sloane absently asked, grabbing the list of physical therapists that the rehab had sent home with him, deciding that she’d wait a little while longer.
“I don’t need help,” Chase bit out, saying the four words that she expected to hear a lot over the next few days.
“Okay, then what do you need?” she asked, glancing up just in time to see Chase grab a bottle of Advil off the counter.
“For you to leave me the hell alone,” he said, tossing a small handful of pills in his mouth.
“I’m afraid that I can’t do that,” Sloane said, biting back a wince when he swallowed the pills dry as she noted the strain around his eyes, the way that his lips were pressed into a flat line, and noted that he looked paler than he had a few minutes ago.
“You really can, though,” Chase murmured, finishing off his beer before tossing the empty can in the kitchen sink.
“Exactly how much pain are you in right now?” she asked, not really surprised when he ignored her question and settled on glaring at her.
“Just stay out of my way,” Chase said evenly as he rolled back over to the refrigerator and grabbed another beer as he shot her one last glare before he headed back to the living room.
Knowing that wasn’t an option, Sloane released another heavy sigh as she focused back on her list even as she couldn’t help but wonder how she was going to get the stubborn man to give a damn whether he lived or died.
*-*-*-*
“Fuck!” Chase managed to get out as he grabbed hold of the edge of the bathroom sink and–
Bit back a scream of agony as more pain shot down his spine and the muscles in his back and thighs continued to spasm before cramping down and tearing a groan from him that had him releasing his hold on the counter so that he could grab the small wastebasket and lose his breakfast of beer and Advil. Gasping, he opened his eyes, absently noted the blood in the wastebasket before he dropped it on the floor and reached for the antacids that stopped helping a long time ago.
He popped two pills in his mouth, swallowed, and tossed the empty box on the bathroom counter before pushing himself toward the shower. He shoved the armrest out of the way with trembling hands, reached over and grabbed hold of the white plastic bench and moved to transition himself only to end up tightening his hold on the bench as another wave of nausea tore through him as black spots danced along his vision.
For several minutes, he sat there, struggling to catch his breath as nausea and pain battled for control until it became too fucking much for him to handle. Releasing his hold on the bench, Chase dropped his head in his trembling hands as he struggled not to lose his fucking mind. He released a shaky breath as he sat there wondering what he’d done to deserve this.
Every day was worse than the last and he honestly wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this fucking wheelchair, but the pain…
God, the fucking pain was slowly killing him.
Something had to fucking give, Chase thought as he heard the bathroom door open behind him. Releasing another shaky breath, he said, “Get the fuck out,” only to bite back a groan when more pain shot down his spine.
“Sorry it took so long, but the pharmacy was backed up,” Sloane said, ignoring him as she walked into the bathroom and placed two white plastic bags on the counter with a sigh.
“Don’t fucking care,” he managed to get out, praying that the pain swallowed him whole before he lost it.
“They were able to fill all of your prescriptions,” Sloane said while she sorted through the bags, pulling out prescription bottles and placing them in the medicine cabinet as he sat there, struggling to breathe as he watched her, so fucking close to begging her for something that would stop this.
Just when he felt himself about to do just that, Chase ground his jaw and told himself that the pain would be gone soon. He didn’t need her help, didn’t want it, and he wasn’t about to fucking beg for it. He–
“This should help with the pain,” Sloane said as she placed a small plastic cup with three pills in one of his hands and pressed a bottle of water in the other.
He waited until she turned her back before he tossed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them along with half the bottle of water, damn near sighing in relief because it had been a long time since he had anything stronger than Advil to deal with the pain. While he waited for the pills to kick in, he watched her as she went to throw away the empty bags only to pause when she saw the bloody mess in the wastebasket.