“You’re doing great, Finn,” Micah said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to take time.” He remembered well the frustration of wanting his body to respond when it wouldn’t. “Keep working at it.”
The chart next to Finn’s bed listed numerous intervals of his eyes being open and closed. It also included an increase in the shifting of his hands. Those were all really good signs, yet they provided no insight into the future.
An action adventure movie played on the TV and he’d already gone through his leaving routine. He was lingering when he should be heading to work, worrying about Grady keeping him around.
A fresh shave and washed hair gave Finn an almost-healthy appearance if he ignored the paleness. A part of him wanted to wail at Finn to wake up if only to ease Grady’s suffering. But waking up wasn’t a cure and Grady was the only one who could let go of his own guilt and fears.
He knew all about that as well.
“Later, dude,” he said, voice stilted around the hurt crowding his throat.
He turned to leave, still reluctant yet out of time and any reason to stay. Grady obviously wasn’t going to make an appearance. It wasn’t a surprise given his lack of response to any of Micah’s returned calls or texts. Damn it. He’d called Grady back as soon as he was free. He couldn’t stop thinking of every bad scenario that could play out if Grady’s meeting with Kick hadn’t gone well.
Had they found him guilty? Was he on his way to jail right now? And that was dramatic paranoia talking—which wasn’t like him. But it was certainly possible that Grady had simply fled. That he’d hit the road like he’d done in the past. Would he really leave Finn though?
Micah had almost called Dane to have him reach out to his Marine buddies at Kick, but Grady would resent him for going over his head like that. Given his past, he’d most likely take it as a controlling act instead of one based on concern.
And the continuous circle of doubts and questions wasn’t getting him anywhere.
Hope sprung up when his phone vibrated in his pocket, heart hitching on a held breath. His harbored fear of never hearing from Grady again redoubled when he didn’t recognize the number.
He answered the call even though he didn’t want to. “Hello?” He’d given his number out to a lot of coma patients and their families over the years, and his bad mood shouldn’t stop him from helping them.
“Um. Hey.”
“Grady?” Relief charged through him and he stepped deeper into the room, phone pressed tightly to his ear.
“Yeah. I, ah, forgot my phone.”
The uncertainty and strain in the clipped words tore at his own guilt. Had he caused it? Had he pushed too hard? Asked for more than Grady could give?
“Okay.” He kept his voice even, his worry locked behind a calm he didn’t feel.
“So…” A grunt followed by a pause came through the line before Grady continued. “Um, are you at the hospital by chance?”
“Yes.” The word dragged out with his confusion. “Are you?”
“No, but…” A sharp sniff and stifled groan. What the hell? “I was, ah, wondering if…Can you drive?”
He frowned at the sudden question. “Yes.” He didn’t do it often, but he had his license. “Why?” He’d gravitated to the window, hunting outside for Grady even though he’d denied being there.
“Well, I was running and…took a digger on a trail,” he said after another pause, strain tightening his words. “My car’s near the hospital.”
Micah was already moving toward the door, voice pitched low as he entered the hallway. “Where are you? How bad are you hurt? Should I call—”
“No,” Grady cut him off. “It’s not that bad. Just twisted my ankle. A few scrapes.”
He dodged past the nurse’s station, a hundred thoughts and scenarios racing through his mind. “What do you need?”
“Can you pick me up?”
The uncertainty in his voice solidified Micah’s response before he doubted himself. “Yes. Where?”
“Do you know where the Audubon Society visitors’ center is?”
“Sure.” Not exactly. But he’d figure it out. “Where’s your car?”
“Up two streets on Pettygrove. Off of 22nd.” Another grunt and low curse drifted through the line. “Halfway down on the right.” More breathy gasps. “There’s a key in a magnetic case under the rear passenger wheel well.”
“Got it.” He paused outside the stairwell, hand on the crash bar. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Adrenaline fed his determination and masked his fear, but love had him diving in without a thought to his own limitations.
“Hey, Micah?” Grady caught him right before he lifted the phone from his ear.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
The emotion in those two words wrapped around Micah’s heart, the promise lifting him. “No problem.”
He ended the call and raced down the stairs. His pulse pounded with urgency, yet he forced himself to slow down. To think and plan before tearing headlong into a situation he couldn’t manage.
He gulped in a large breath of fresh air when he hit the sidewalk, blew it out, and did it again. His hands trembled when he called up his point-to-point navigation app and found the best route to the Audubon visitors’ center. He took another moment to read through the route even though it wouldn’t help if his brain decided to blip.
Which it did more frequently when he was stressed. Like now.
He had to calm down and function logically instead of like a madman. Grady wasn’t critically hurt. He simply needed a ride home. And he’d called him for help.
Micah wouldn’t let him down.
He continued his breathing exercises as he hunted down Grady’s car. The key was exactly where he’d said it would be. His heart jumped when he slid into the driver’s seat, nerves twisting in his stomach. He refused to acknowledge them though. It was better that way.
Be confident. Don’t question or overthink what he was doing.
He turned on the audio navigation for his app, started the car, and shifted his brain into autopilot as much as he could. The blips didn’t happen as often when he functioned like that.
“Continue on Pettygrove,” the mechanical female voice instructed as Micah pulled out of the parking space. Follow the directions and get to Grady. He’d do that. The app would get him there even if he had no clue where he was.
Fifteen stressful minutes later he turned into a small parking lot, the navigation voice telling him he’d arrived at his destination. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel hadn’t slackened once, but he’d made it.
The foggy sense of being in foreign territory went deeper than having never been there before. The surrounding trees, a single-story wood structure, and a covered walkway fit his concept of where he should be, yet his bearings had fled about five minutes back. It’d taken a hundred percent of his concentration to keep the car on the road. To ignore the dizziness and not freak out when the road seemed to go on and on without end.
He twisted his wrist, the stiff rub and firmness of the cuff calming him. He hoped like hell the app was right.
He spotted Grady sitting on a backless bench and his lungs filled with his first deep breath since he’d slid behind the steering wheel. He was in the right spot, thank God. The twisted knot in his stomach loosened slightly, one fear slipping away.
Grady raised his head when he pulled into an open parking spot. A tired smile lifted his lips as Micah parked the car and got out, legs shaky but holding.
“Hey,” he said, coming to stand before Grady, head swaying only a little. He took in the sweat and dirt-stained clothing along with the bloody scrapes on his right knee and forearm. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“Thanks.” Grady stood, bobbled, and winced.
He dove forward to stabilize him, arm slipping around his waist. “Stubborn ass,” he mumbled. “Sit back down.”
Grady shook his head and tried to limp forward. “I’m fine. I just need to go.”
“I’ll get you home,” he insisted, exasperated at the obstinate fuck. “But let me take a look at your injuries.”
“I already did.” Grady favored his right side, each step a lopsided hitch forward. “I’m a medic, remember? I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine,” he mimicked, but determinedly steered him to the back of the SUV, opened the hatchback, and lowered the tailgate one-handed. “Sit.” He shoved Grady down and reinforced it with a glare. “What’s your deal?”
Grady’s derisive snort cut through the increasing tension. “It’s been a long day, okay?”
One that’d started with Micah. He ignored the stab of hurt and flipped open the clearly marked medical kit. Stocked and labeled, it was easy to find the antiseptic wipes. He could do that at least.
“Then sit there and let me do this.” He tore the package open and crouched to get a better look at the wound on his knee, but Grady jerked it out of his reach.
“Jesus.” He glared down at Micah. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” He held out a pair of medical gloves, scowling. “You should always use gloves. Especially with a stranger.”
Micah’s brows winged up. “So you’re a stranger now? I kind of thought we’d passed that stage after I’d had my dick in your ass a few times.”
“Har, har.” Grady shoved the gloves in his face. “Use them.”
He slowly took them, anger simmering. “Should I be worried? I’d assumed you would’ve said something by now if I should be.”
“I’m clean,” Grady snapped.
He didn’t doubt him either, which didn’t explain Grady’s snarling attitude. He held his glare as he deliberately slipped on the gloves, irritation mixing with his growing confusion.
“Better?” he asked before dabbing the wipe on the scrape. He took a bit of pleasure in Grady’s hissing intake of breath. “Oh.” He feigned innocence. “Does that hurt?”
Grady’s angry grunt flew over his ducked head. He focused on his task, doing his best to sanitize the wound without inflicting more pain. Grady grabbed another wipe and used it on his forearm, the silence festering.
“What happened?” he finally asked to break the growing strain.
“I tripped and fell,” Grady snarked as he shoved the garbage into a plastic bag. He held it out and waited for Micah to put the removed gloves in before sealing it shut.
And that apparently was all the explanation he was going to get. “How’s the ankle?” It was hard to tell with his sock and shoe still on.
“Fine,” Grady bit out, but pulled an instant cold pack out of the medical kit.
Done being patient, he stepped between Grady’s spread legs, blocking him in. “What’s going on?” There was more here than being pissed at being clumsy. He cupped Grady’s face in both hands, searching his defiant eyes for any clue. “Was it the meeting?” Had the Marine Board come back with a guilty verdict? Had something else happened?
Grady’s jaw flexed beneath Micah’s palms, lips pursing and flattening, but no words came out. Indignation screamed from his tight muscles and drawn brows. Combined, it did a great job of masking the fear and hurt that gleamed in the depths of his eyes.
His stubborn silence was only broken by a hard swallow. Jesus. Such strength and pride beneath that willful obstinacy. Kindness too. A tender vulnerability that only made him stronger. Human.
“What can I do?” he asked, wanting—needing—to help. His heart ached with everything he couldn’t say or do. His own limitations hammered at his soul, yet he was here. And he wouldn’t push him for answers Grady wasn’t ready to give.
Grady wet his lips but didn’t break his determined silence. His uninjured foot bounced next to Micah’s leg in time with his fist on his thigh. Energy contained but dying to break free.
He leaned forward and settled a kiss on Grady’s lips, not pushing for more or taking it deeper. A promise from him to Grady. Battered heart to battered heart.
“Come on,” he urged, stepping back, arm easing around his waist to help him off the tailgate. Grady leaned on him as he shuffled around to the passenger seat, eyes downcast the entire time.
Micah closed the back end, then typed out a quick text. Grady’s refusal to ask for more help wouldn’t stop him from giving it. He took a few slow, deep breaths, searching for the calm control he needed to get through the coming drive before he slid into the driver’s seat. The hollow slam of his door rang through the cab, seeming to amplify the pounding beat of his heart.
Determination alone kept his movements calm, his hands from shaking.
He started the car and flicked on the music to fill the silence. Grady stared out the passenger window, lips pressed flat, expression stony, his jaw stubbornly lifted. But his leg was bouncing again, the locked-up energy seeping out of him to charge the close quarters.
Another long minute passed before Micah got a response from Dane. His chest tightened, held, and eased with his breath. There was no way to know if this would work, but it was the only idea he had. He texted back a few more quick notes until everything was set.
He switched over to his navigation app and added his destination. This could blow up in his face. But there was also the chance of it being exactly what Grady needed.
And that alone made it worth trying.
He started the voice guidance on the app and backed out of the parking spot before his doubts charged in. The list of things that could go wrong was too long to define.
“Turn left on Cornell Road,” the mechanical navigation voice said.
Grady jerked around, eyes wide but saying nothing. Micah held his gaze for a moment, questions flying unsaid between them. He clenched the steering wheel, chin lifting. Not once had Grady mentioned Micah’s disability or questioned his ability to get there. Was this where the normal treatment ended?
Grady’s gaze shifted to Micah’s phone and held for a beat before he turned back to stare out the passenger window, jaw flexing but silent.
Another round of questions and reservations battled up to squeeze the air from Micah’s lungs. He couldn’t give in to them though. They were all his own and right now, he had someone else to focus on.
Grady needed him to be strong.
And he refused to fuck this up no matter what his screwed-up brain did.