He shook his head. “I don’t share it with anyone.”
She touched his arm and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, but if you ever decide to share, I’d love to know what keeps you so focused.”
He nodded, not sure there would ever be a day when he felt safe enough to share his doodles with someone. By the time they were finished cleaning, everyone was saying their goodbyes. Sam locked the cabin and Arthur followed Gretchen off the boat. His prosthetic foot caught on the slight lip on the edge.
Time slowed as he tripped. First, the pain as his prosthesis ripped off. Then he flailed, trying to stop his forward motion. Desperately hopping on his good foot, he crashed into Gretchen, the movement catching her by surprise and they both fell. The thump on the hard, cold, metal ground and more pain. Gretchen’s warm body crashing on top of him. Glancing across as his prosthesis teetered on the edge of the boat before tipping over and falling into the water below.
Fuck.
Gretchen groaned and Arthur forgot about the leg. He’d hurt her. “Sorry, are you all right?”
He sat up, helping her to a seated position. She rubbed her elbow. “Fine. What about you?”
He shrugged. His stump throbbed and somewhere below him in the water was his leg. Sam offered Gretchen a hand up and then turned to Arthur, his gaze stopping on the missing limb. He looked around.
“It went under,” Arthur told him. He’d have to go in after it.
“I’ll get it.” Gretchen stripped off her shirt, tossing it to the deck, and slid off her shorts. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, preventing him from speaking. She shimmied down a nearby ladder and into the marina.
Damn it. Rescuing him again. Way to make him feel helpless. He shuffled to the edge and looked down. She was under the jetty, but the leg was nowhere to be seen.
“Toss me some goggles,” she called.
Sam brushed by him as he stepped back on to the boat to fetch them. Arthur just sat there like a cripple, unable to help. Anger, frustration and despair clashed together, all battling for dominance. A scream crept up his throat and the urge to release it was strong. He fought it down as Sam threw Gretchen a pair of goggles and she put them on and disappeared beneath the water. Arthur held his breath.
“Do you want to get up?” Sam stood above him, arm outstretched.
No, he wanted to be whole again. To not need anyone.
Gretchen surfaced with his leg. “Got it!” She thrust it upwards, and he grabbed the foot, pulling it towards him. “Thanks.”
He emptied the excess water from it. It would need a thorough rinse as soon as possible. Sam handed him a towel and then one to Gretchen as she climbed out of the marina. Arthur shoved the prosthesis back on his stump, not wanting her to see it.
“Do you need a hand?” Gretchen asked.
“No,” he barked. He needed a leg.
“Thanks for your help, Gretchen,” Sam said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gretchen nodded and smiled. “Bye.” Her phone rang. She fished it out of her bag and glanced at the screen. Her face paled. She looked at Sam, nerves clear, then waved and strode away.
What was that about? Was she in some kind of trouble?
“What is wrong with you?” Sam demanded, dragging Arthur’s attention back to him. “Stop being a douche.” His friend stared down at him, hands on his hips. “Gretchen was only trying to help.”
Arthur focused on putting on his leg.
Sam was right, but he wasn’t used to needing help and deep down he didn’t understand why Sam hadn’t given up on him yet, why none of them had. It made no sense that Amy and Brandon invited him to stay with them after the way he’d behaved. He’d failed all of them.
And he’d failed himself.
Did he deserve a better life?
***
Gretchen strode down the jetty, all thoughts of Sam and Arthur forgotten as she found the courage to answer her phone. “What do you want, Kurt?”
“Who’s the cripple?”
